She swallowed and went to the coffee machine to get herself a cup. Gran was her primary worry, of course, but the night was a long one while a battery of X-rays and blood tests were run. She was assured that her grandmother was stable, and she had been allowed to sit by the gurney for a while until Gran dozed off. That left Jenna with plenty of time to worry not only for her sole living relative, but the god who had popped into her life as a hero and then vanished. Maybe she shouldn’t have let him kiss her the way that he had. It wasn’t their first kiss, but there was no denying the groping and making out had pushed things to another level between them. So had what they’d done together inside that factory, for altogether different reasons. He’d helped her free innocent creatures, giving her an important glimpse into his character. He believed in her cause because he’d once been a captive himself. Her heart ached to think of it. Now he was the god of a pagan holiday she’d never heard of, and he chose to honor it by releasing someone who had been treated unjustly. He may not be an angel, but he was definitely a hero.
He’d wanted to celebrate their victory with something her body ached for now, and as she pictured the way he’d pushed her up against the van, a tingling sparked between her thighs. She wished she was beneath Anduron in her bed right then, clinging on while he thrust into her, sharing himself on a level she now desperately wanted to explore. Even knowing it would only be one time, and that once they had both cried out in climax, he would leave and go back to his own world forever. How stupid was that? It definitely wasn’t like her. But now, even that much apparently wasn’t going to happen between them.
Had he changed his mind? Had something about her kiss put him off? Maybe she’d been more into it than he was. That could have been why he broke things off first. Had he decided to run down his list of other candidates and find another woman instead? Was he kissing someone right then, deciding whether she was better suited than Jenna? Her gut actually churned at that thought, and she threw the bitter coffee away.
Gran was declared fit enough not to need admittance to the hospital, just an adjustment to her blood pressure medication. There was only a couple hours left before dawn by the time Jenna finally got her home and tucked in with promises to call if she needed anything. Once back at the guest house, she felt a flicker of disappointment that there was no sign that Anduron had ever returned. She let Andy out of the bathroom, mopped up an accident while she left a message at work explaining why she was taking the day off, and then fell into bed exhausted.
***
Anduron’s mind whirred with thoughts of how to extricate himself from his current predicament, but the task was more easily imagined than accomplished. His first instinct had been trying to break out of his restraints while in back of the police car. The strange plastic cording securing his wrists rather tightly proved difficult, however, despite his greater-than-human strength. With the policemen’s heads facing forward, he could have phased out of the realm without them seeing, though leaving them to wonder how their prisoner had vanished from a moving vehicle. But he couldn’t reach the pendant with his hands bound. He could have attempted to kick the door open and hurl himself from the car. It would hurt, but he would not sustain permanent damage. But without access to the pendant, he would not get far before they turned their vehicle around and recaptured him.
Captured. His heart pounded unnaturally, driving panic to the forefront of his thoughts. He tried to take slow, even breaths, but found himself gulping air. Being snatched up, bound, and taken away for the second time in his life drove sweat from his pores and stabbed at his chest like the sword of Apollyon, artifact of Samhain. And he was stuck letting things play out until he could phase safely.
His thoughts turned to Jenna. He saw her easy smile in his mind, her determined expression while they had joined together to rescue the caged animals. She was so alive, so aligned with many of his beliefs, and yet she could hold her own to challenge him on others. And then there was the way she’d thanked him for his help with her kiss and her ripe curves. He had never intended on stumbling into her existence in the first place, and yet she had quickly become an intrigue that he could spend the next hundred years unraveling. Much of it preferably in bed.
Would she realize what had happened to him? Or would she believe he had abandoned her? His stomach tightened at the thought. She did not deserve such a thing. Whatever transpired here, she needed to know he had not left her behind deliberately. He still wanted her. He wanted nothing more than to phase to her side and convey that truth to every naked inch of her body. But first, he had to extricate himself.
Once at the police headquarters, things became more complicated. He was still bound while they initiated a procedure they called “booking” despite the lack of any actual books. While the authorities had been far less than pleased with him from the moment he’d been caught, they became downright surly while they attempted to question him.
“Name,” said a policeman with as much nose and ear fuzz as hair on his head.
“Anduron.”
“Last name.”
“Son of Herne.”
“Sonahern. How do you spell that?”
“H-E-R-N-E.”
“Address.”
“I do not have one.”
“Date of birth.”
“Summer of the fiftieth year of the dragon’s horn.”
The man looked up. “What the fuck? Don’t play games, Sonahern. Date of birth.”
“I told you.”
The policemen grunted. “Keep this up and your cavity search will have to be extra thorough.”
“I do not take your meaning.”
A laugh followed. “You will, elf man.”
And so on it went until Anduron was shoved in front of a wall of numbers and lines. He was photographed, both the front of his face and in profile. That would not sit well with the counsel. The worst, however, came while they began attempting to take his possessions. After some deliberation, they decided to do so while he still had his hands cuffed behind him. Would this never end?
First, a policemen with J. Andrews engraved on a metal nameplate tugged Anduron’s ears in a most undignified manner. “What are these, some sort of rubber Star Trek ears?” he said, pulling at one rather hard. The guy looked at his fuzzy partner. “Can he wear those in lockup?”
“Hell, no.”
“Ouch!” Anduron said, wincing with the next tug.
The officer frowned. “How do you get them off?”
Anduron gritted his teeth. “I assure you, they do not come off. They are quite real.”
“Sure they are.” The officer peered into his eyes. “What about those contact lenses? Did you get them on sale? They don’t even match.”
“I have no lenses.” Anduron shut his eyes. “Please do not attempt to pull my eyes out as well.”
“Shut up, smart ass.” He huffed a sigh. “One black cloak,” the guy said with a snort, undoing the clasp and handing it to a second officer, who folded it.
Then he stopped and stared. “One weird as fuck necklace.” He leaned closer. “What the hell is that stone? Why’s it glowing like it’s got radiation?”
“Do not touch that,” Anduron warned. “Leave the pendant alone.” He raised his chin. “Remove my bonds and I will take care of it.” By phasing right out of this madness, witnesses or no. This whole thing had gotten out of hand.
Andrews didn’t listen. He grabbed for it and tugged, and it came away from Anduron’s neck. As he pulled back with it, Anduron saw that the policemen was clutching the stone in his palm.
“Do not hold it that way!” Anduron exclaimed. “It is possible you might...”
The man winked out of existence.
Two other officers in the room gasped and jumped forward. “Andrews? Andrews!” His eyes narrowed at Anduron. “What happened to him? Where did he go?”
“What the hell was that thing?” the other one yelled. “You vaporized him!”
“He is not harmed,” Anduron said
. “He just went somewhere else.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” the officer said, his face red and his eyes wild. “Where?”
“I have no idea.”
The other one had called for backup, and the room was filling with more officers. Anduron was grabbed and shoved down on his knees.
“No, wait!” the first man said. “Everyone else get out of here. This whole room is probably full of radiation. Call Hazmat. Everyone who was exposed needs to be checked out.”
“No one here is in danger,” Anduron said. “One phase will not harm your partner, either. It is not that kind of radiation.”
“You son of a bitch.”
Another officer pulled him back when he lunged at Anduron, though not before he was knocked to the ground. Hard floor connected with his cheekbone. With some difficulty, he got up, his face throbbing.
“Jansen,” someone said from the door. “Andrews just called in. He’s on the line.”
Jansen whipped around. “Is he all right? What happened?”
The guy blinked at Anduron. “He says he’s fine. He’s at home with Angie.”
“Home?” Jansen turned back to Anduron. “How the hell did that happen?”
Anduron shrugged. “Clearly his thoughts were focused on his home when he took hold of the pendant. Was there some compelling reason for him to want to be there?”
“Angie’s ready to have the baby,” a female officer offered.
“Quiet,” Jansen said. “Don’t tell him shit.” He pushed Anduron into a hard wooden chair. “Sit your ass down.” He nodded to another officer. “Secure him to the chair.”
Several officers lingered by the doorway while he overheard Jansen speaking to a man who was clearly in charge. “That kind of tech...military, maybe? We may need to call the Feds in on this.”
So many fearful and angry eyes were turned Anduron’s way, and he shook his head. How had this spun so far out of control?
Suddenly, the air thickened, and all activity in the room stopped. Five immortals phased into the booking area, two of them mage-seers distinguishable by their bald heads and flowing white robes. Their presence in the group was no doubt the reason the rest had all phased in so precisely. The seers moved through the room with their arms up, whispering ancient words. The mortals were all frozen in place, eyes open and unblinking, unaware they were being visited by gods of another realm. Counselors Munsola and Rathmar were there, along with Martauk, who rushed forward.
“I do not recall getting arrested on the list of courting suggestions,” Martauk said to him, bending over to examine Anduron’s restraints.
“What are you doing here?” Anduron asked.
“Are you surprised the Counsel had to intervene?”
“No, but I am surprised they brought you along.”
“I’ve long warned the Counsel that bodyguards should be used when sabbat gods travel to this realm,” he said, coming around behind him. Perhaps now they will listen.”
“You have not been my bodyguard for hundreds of years.”
“Exactly.” With quick action on Martauk’s part, Anduron was free of his bonds.
He stood up, rubbing at his sore wrists. “Thank you.”
Martauk leaned close and whispered, “I was able to inform your brother what was happening.” He straightened when Rathmar and Munsola approached.
They stood before Anduron, hands tucked inside the arms of their dark gray robes, wearing expressions of narrow-eyed disdain.
“This does not bode well,” Anduron murmured to Martauk.
Martauk lengthened the cord of his veil pendant and wrapped it around both their necks. “I am afraid not, my friend.”
“Take me to Jenna,” Anduron whispered. “I have to see her with all haste.”
Martauk paused before tightening his grip on the pendant. They materialized right in the inner counsel chamber, and Martauk removed the pendant and squeezed Anduron’s shoulder. “I am sorry, but your presence was required immediately. Good luck.”
“But Jenna,” Anduron said.
“She will have to wait.” The man looked at him. “If you wish to speak afterward, I am here.”
“Leave him, Martauk.” The voice was Herne’s.
“As his personal guard, I request that I be allowed to remain,” Martauk said.
“Fine,” Sandovar said, waving a hand. “Stand over there by the door. And hold your tongue, or you will be removed.”
He nodded and moved away, standing beside the door with his arms crossed.
The entire Counsel was again assembled, Anduron’s father included. His eyes burned with golden flame, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped his gnarled wooden staff.
Anduron glanced around at the faces staring at him, the sour looks not dissimilar from those he’d been weathering from the earth policemen.
“You can be at no loss to fathom why we are gathered once again,” Rathmar said. “Your actions surrounding this sabbat have proven of grave concern.”
“If you are referring to my arrest...”
“We are referring to the entire manner in which you have conducted preparations,” Herne said. Aside from Anduron, he was the only one standing. “Beginning with your interference in a human dispute.”
“You mean the capture of a helpless old woman for no reason other than to steal from her purse?”
Herne scowled. “Speaking of theft, you went on to wrongfully claim earth property, give information about your true identity to mortal authorities, and allow a human to secure and use a veil pendant, a rare and powerful artifact.”
“And a most dangerous one for humans to claim,” Sandovar said. “Your encounter has the mage-seers working overmuch to adjust numerous memories and correct the damage from your night of stealing.”
“I stole no earth property.”
Munsola chuffed. “The policemen who took you into custody have a different opinion.”
Anduron raised his arms. “I am the god of Mabon. I freed unjustly imprisoned animals from barbaric treatment suffered at the hands of humans.”
“A gesture that was both foolhardy and wholly unnecessary,” Rathmar said.
“Unnecessary?”
“Indeed,” Sandovar replied. “Considering you had already made an unsanctioned goodwill offering by saving the crone.”
“Taking it upon yourself to act on a whim on behalf of mortals is forbidden,” Rathmar said. “Removing the animals from their human caretakers was at best an unnecessary risk.”
“I spared them from their torturers, you mean,” Anduron said. “And I did not act on my own whim. The witness asked for my help in freeing the creatures.”
“She was not within her rights to do so,” Herne said.
“Why? Because gods no longer answer the prayers of humans?” Anduron folded his arms. “Perhaps it is time they did.”
His father’s eyes darkened.
“You cannot be serious,” Veramus said.
“I prayed for release from my prison,” Anduron cried out, the bitter words bouncing off the chamber walls. “For years. Nobody listened.” He met his father’s eyes. “You did not come. The god Mabon did not hear my pleas. I was alone and abandoned. That is not a fate I wish for anyone.”
Herne’s staff struck the floor with a thunderous blow. “That is not true.” His voice broke. “I searched for years. I never gave up.”
“Nor have I, Father.” He turned to the Counsel. “I vowed never to give up on those who have been tossed into prison and forgotten. From the smallest animal to the greatest warrior, the fate of the unjustly imprisoned has weighed heavy upon me for centuries. Mabon is a time of rejoicing in the blessings the year has bestowed. What better rejoicing can there be than in freedom for the oppressed?”
“Open the window,” Munsola said. “See the consensus for yourself.”
Anduron strode to the long, narrow window at the far end of the chamber. He pushed it open and stared out at the crowd that had gathered. Angry immortals stood
below outside the entrance to the Counsel of Sabbats, their voices raised in protest. Someone pointed at him and shouted, and many faces turned upward, spouting epithets in the ancient tongue, shaking their fists. He closed the window, shutting out the din.
“Do you see rejoicing out there?” Sandovar called out. “No. You see chaos.”
“Your cause is stirring the realm into madness,” Herne said. “It cannot be allowed to continue.”
“Perhaps it was worth it,” Anduron said. “At least I have spared innocents from suffering.”
“You did not,” Rathmar said. “The animals have been returned.”
Heat flared in his chest. “Why? Why should they suffer for this?”
“The seers adjusted memories of your presence,” Sandovar said. “They had to erase your crime as well.”
“Reversing my actions would be the crime. They should at least have let my gesture stand for something.”
“Your gesture has cost much,” Munsola said. “It is as I have been saying for centuries. The ritual of Mabon is in need of new practices.”
“Or a new keeper to serve it,” Sandovar said.
Anduron whirled on him. “If a simple act of justice can rouse the masses into such indignation, then perhaps this is no longer a realm worth serving.”
“Then the matter is settled,” Rathmar said. “Anduron, son of Herne, is no longer fit nor willing to be the god of Mabon.”
Anduron clenched his jaw.
“A new sabbat keeper must be selected immediately,” Veramus said. “One who will not bring his personal influence to the task.”
“All sabbat keepers bring their influence to this task,” said a familiar voice. Anduron’s brother stalked into the chamber. “It is what makes us able to perform our duties.”
Anduron: God of Mabon (Sons of Herne, #7) Page 8
