Sensuous Summoning (2 page)

The gods monitored things with the human world, but once the industrial revolution had begun, he’d stopped checking on their advancement. Too many forests had been eaten away in the name of progress. Plants died and animals were displaced and starved to death in an environment that no longer supported them.

Dismissing his concerns, he sat back, and with a wave of his hand, released the vines that held the young woman captive.

She quickly scooted away from him. “Look, I’m really sorry about all this. I didn’t mean to take you from wherever you were, but…thank you for coming.”

Gwydion couldn’t just leave. Not until his purpose for being summoned was fulfilled, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he simply watched her hurry away through the gnarled trees toward a small house in the distance. As she vanished into the darkness, it occurred to him that he didn’t know her name. But it didn’t matter. This wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.

Cloaking himself in invisibility, he left the wooded grove and explored the surrounding area. The small patches of snow that hadn’t yet melted were so filthy and gray he almost didn’t recognize it as snow. Bits of debris and garbage clung wetly to the roadway and the odor of passing vehicles filled the air with foul-smelling filth that clung to the insides of his nostrils and tasted bitter on his tongue. It was nearly as bad as the scent of 19
^th
century London.

The small town near the girl’s home looked relatively clean, but impurities tainted the air in greater numbers. There were more vehicles here than there had been closer to her home, more chemicals, more people with more waste. He projected himself to one place after another, exploring larger towns and cities. Garbage rotted in containers behind restaurants while vagrants picked through the rancid-smelling remains. Tired-looking whores plied their wares along shadowed street corners. Even from a distance, he sensed the toxins and contaminants in their systems.

The air in this larger place was even thicker with pollution. It clogged his lungs and burned his eyes. He ventured out farther from the busy center of the city, past the empty, soulless buildings whose windows stared outward like so many vacant eyes. Groupings of houses were scattered across the countryside. Smaller homes were tightly packed on narrow roads, but the farther he moved from the city, the larger the homes became. It was as if one settlement had something to prove to the prior one. And oddly, the bigger the buildings got, the more they all looked alike. It was a curious thing.

There were a few farms spaced here and there between the groupings of houses, but even the cows seemed different than the cows he was used to. There was something almost unnatural about them. The longer he traveled the more confused and concerned he became. This wasn’t the earth he remembered. It was not the one he’d been given stewardship of—at least, not the same as it had been.

He had failed.

Chapter Two

Rowan attempted to warm her hands around her steaming cup of tea as she scanned the text on her computer screen. She hadn’t been able to stop shivering since she’d returned from the orchard. It was worse now that she’d actually found a few scraps of information on the man she’d managed to conjure in the woods.

According to the research, Gwydion was a little-known, Celtic deity, The Lord of the Trees—one of the lesser gods. Remembering his sculpted body and piercing green eyes, she thought there had been nothing “lesser” about him. The way he’d stared at her still sent shivers of need careening through her body. She was pathetic. A remotely interested look from a hot guy and she was a quivering mass of want. The sensation of him cradled between her thighs, pinning her to the ground, should have terrified her. To be honest, it had, but it had also aroused her. And the vines…god, the vines. What the hell was the matter with her that she found that at all arousing?

What the hell was wrong with her that she found
any
of this arousing? She’d summoned a god. An actual god. For the briefest of moments, she was tempted to convince herself that she’d imagined it, but her clothes were still damp from where he’d secured her to the earth, and there was no way she could have come up with a man created from dead leaves and vines. She didn’t have that kind of imagination.

Her friend Meaghan wandered into Rowan’s room, carrying the teapot and a plate of warm, peanut-butter cookies. Meg set the plate of cookies in front of her and refilled the mug Rowan still clutched.

“Find out anything?” her friend asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Other than the fact you’re crazy enough to bake cookies at one in the morning? Not a ton. If this info is right, he’s a little-known, Celtic god of the forest.”

“Sheesh. I mean, I get the concept of gods, but to actually conjure one? I’m in awe of you.”

“Don’t be. All it means is that I screwed up the spell and am apparently capable of summoning mythological creatures. Not necessarily a skill I wanted.”

Meaghan shrugged. “I dunno. He sounded hot.”

Rowan hid her smile behind the rim of her mug. “I’ll give him that.”

“Seriously, think about how handy that would be. No more dating drama. Need a hot date? Just conjure one up. Forget getting your degree. You could have a whole new career opportunity here.”

Rowan sighed and took a bite of a still warm cookie, stifling a groan at the nutty, sugary taste.

“In fact, I haven’t had a date in forever,” Meaghan continued. “Let’s see…I’m thinking…tall, dark and bad boy. Can you set me up?”

A sudden pounding at the door had them looking at each other and checking the clock. Who would come over in the middle of the night? Rowan followed Meaghan through the kitchen to the back door.

“Oh. My. God.” Meg glanced at her, brown eyes wide. “I’m pretty sure it’s for you.” Turning back to the door, she opened it a crack, leaving the chain engaged.

“I would speak to the red-haired wench. Bring her to me.”

At the sound of Gwydion’s rough voice, Rowan’s stomach trembled nervously then dropped to her feet. What the hell? How had he found her? Well, he was a god. She supposed finding a particular human wasn’t that difficult.

“Um, Rowan…he’s naked.”

With dread-tinged excitement, she switched places with Meaghan and met his sharp, green gaze. Swallowing heavily, she said, “You’re still here.”

“I won’t leave until my purpose for being called for has been fulfilled. I have questions, and I need answers.” She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, he added, “From you.”

“I’m not really comfortable letting you into my house.”

He arched a chestnut-colored brow as he stared at her. “I think we both know that if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already.”

“Did you leave out important details?” Meg whispered harshly from behind her.

“Look, it’s almost two in the morning. I’m tired. You’re…naked.”

A wicked grin curved his lips. “Normally, that would lead to a pleasant way to greet the dawn, but you’ve already expressed your feelings on that, too.” The rumble of his voice lodged in her center, turning her insides to liquid.

“You
did
leave out details!”

Rowan fought the urge to roll her eyes at her friend and kept her gaze on the man—god, she amended—in front of her.

With a wave of his hand, he set the leaves in her back garden swirling around him. With a dull flash of light the vegetation transformed into jeans and a cotton, button-down shirt worn over a T-shirt that stretched snugly across his muscular chest.

“Ho-lee shit,” Meaghan breathed behind her. “I’ve seen a lot of stuff…but nothing like that. Tea isn’t going to cut it. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

With trembling fingers, Rowan slid free the chain and slowly opened the door.

He stepped through the doorway and stood mere inches from her. “Thank you, Rowan.”

Another flutter of desire riffled through her at the sound of her name crossing his lips. Forcing herself backward, she led him into the kitchen and gestured for him to sit at the small, wooden table. Meaghan circled the table, staring at him in awe. She reached out and touched his shoulder.

He glanced at Meaghan’s hand then pointedly up at her face.

She snatched back her hand and took a few steps away. “It feels like normal fabric,” she muttered, looking at Rowan. “This is crazy.”

Crazy didn’t begin to cover it. Rowan sank into the chair opposite Gwydion. For some reason she couldn’t explain, having him dressed and sitting across from her in her kitchen was more unnerving than having him pin her to the loamy earth while naked. She nervously wet her lips, unable to take her eyes from his face.

Meaghan, seeming somewhat more in control of her faculties, set the plate of cookies in the center of the table. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume you can eat human food?”

He gifted her with a staggering smile and nodded. “Thank you, wench.”

Meg frowned, slightly. “It’s Meaghan. Not wench.”

He bowed his head slightly and the light glinted off the faint golden strands in his brown hair. “My apologies. Thank you, Meaghan.”

He turned his attention back to Rowan. She clenched her hand under the table to keep from reaching out and stroking his hair to see if it looked as soft as it felt.

Gwydion picked up a cookie and bit into it, his groan of pleasure filling the small room. Rowan shifted in her seat, the sound dampening her panties. She met Meg’s gaze as the other woman mouthed,
O. M. G.
behind his head.

“What is this?” he asked, finishing the first one and picking up another.

“A peanut-butter cookie.”

“I would have more. They are delicious.”

Meaghan poured a glass of milk and set it in front of him. He swallowed, grimacing. “What is wrong with this milk?”

Rowan checked the date. It wasn’t expired. She lifted the glass to her face and sniffed. It smelled normal. “I’m not sure what you mean. It smells fine to me.” Needing to put some distance between herself and the man at the table, she moved to the sink and filled a glass of water before returning to her spot and sliding it toward him. “Maybe this will be better.”

She watched as he lifted the glass to his face, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the liquid. He took a tentative swallow and scowled. “Are you trying to poison me?”

Rowan grabbed the glass and drank from it. “It’s stuff they put in the water to purify it and make it safe to drink.”

“You people have polluted the earth to the point where your only recourse is to purify the water.”

“Pretty much,” she said.

He frowned, his eyes clouding with anger.

“Well, we didn’t do it personally,” Meaghan rushed to add. “This has been going on for years.”

Rowan wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard him growl under his breath.

He smelled the water again before taking a sip and grimacing. “What is it tainted with?”

“Chlorine and god knows what other chemicals.” Moving to the chair in front of the laptop, she pulled it closer and opened the lid. Bringing up a new search page, she Googled water purification. Gwydion scooted his chair closer and watched her intently, his gaze darting between her fingers tapping at the keys and the information scrolling across the screen.

Paging through the links, she found one that seemed promising and clicked on it. Gwydion’s eyes remained glued on the screen.

She cleared her throat and began to read. “Due to the proliferation of—”

He shot her a withering glance. “I can read.”

“Oh.” She turned the computer toward him. “Sorry.”

If the guy could appear at will and direct the actions of plant life, she supposed his ability to read shouldn’t be a surprise. He was, after all, a god. Apparently. She still couldn’t quite get her head around that. But she also couldn’t deny what she’d seen.

She smothered a yawn with her hand and glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning, and she had to work at nine.

Gwydion had stopped reading and gazed at her, his eyes blazing. He gestured impatiently toward the screen. “There is more.”

She stared at him blankly for a moment until she figured out what he wanted and showed him how to scroll down the page. He continued reading, his eyes narrowing occasionally. She assumed it was due to the unfamiliar words and chemical compounds listed in the article. When he finished reading, he sat back in his chair. “I would know more.”

Turning the laptop toward her once again, she showed him how to use the search function before laying her head on her arms and closing her eyes.

“Don’t you have to work in the morning?” Meaghan asked.

Rowan nodded sleepily.

“Go to bed. I’ve got the day off tomorrow. I’ll stay up with Gwydion and help him if he needs it.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I need to study anyway.” Forcing herself to sit up, she pulled a botany textbook from the backpack hanging off the back of the chair and placed it on the table. Propping her head on her hand, she tried to focus on the text. But more often than not, her attention drifted to the man—god, she corrected herself—sitting at in the chair kitty-corner from her.