Blessed by Ann Mayburn Read Free Book Online Page B

irritation. “Come now. You're attracting attention.” The owl ruffled its feathers and managed to appear annoyed.
    Professor Klemenson was suddenly at her side, pulling her to her feet. She was momentarily distracted from her panic by being so close to him. When she turned to look, his gaze captured hers even as part of her mind was shrieking that a fucking bird was talking to her. She hadn’t been close enough to notice it before, but Professor Klemenson had small flecks of amber in his green eyes. Even the presence of the yapping owl couldn't distract her from the tingle that went through her hand and straight to juncture of her thighs at his touch.
    “What happened? Are you hurt?” Professor Klemenson asked in a low voice. Noticing the crowd watching them, he added loudly, “It's okay. She saw a rat in the tree, and it scared her.”
    A few of the guys laughed and returned to their football game. The other students went back to their studying once they realized there wouldn't be any drama. Just a girl scared of a rat. Didn’t he hear the owl? Was she going crazy?”
    With a shaking hand, she pointed to the tree. “Talking owl in the tree. Am I losing my mind? I swear an owl talked to me from that tree.”
    She winced as she realized the words sounded a little, no a lot, insane when she said them aloud. “I'm so sorry, Professor. I must still be drunk from last night.”
    She gave her cheek a light slap and looked at the tree. Nope, the owl was still there, and it was glaring at her. Now that she looked closer she realized it wasn’t like any owl she’d ever seen. It was pure white and the gleam of its feathers had an almost iridescent sheen. And she was pretty sure owls didn’t have glowing purple eyes, at least not the owls where she came from.
    “Drunk from last night? You're too young to be drinking.” Professor Klemenson appeared distracted.
    “Priest of Odin, are you this woman's Mentor? Why have you been so slack in your duties? She knows nothing of me, or the Chosen.” The bird scolded him and ruffled its feathers. “How am I to evaluate her for my goddess when she's chattering like a scared monkey?”
    She stared at him and to her surprise he gave the owl a small, differential bow before tugging her along with him so they returned to her spot beneath the tree. Bending to gather her books and sunglasses, he said softly, “My apologies. I haven't had the chance to approach her yet.”
    What in the hell was going on? Was he talking to a bitchy owl, or was she having some kind of mental breakdown? She pinched her arm to see if she was still dreaming, but everything stayed the same.
    Turning to look at Professor Klemenson, the owl said, “Get on with your training, Mentor. We cannot have her screaming every time I visit.” With a poof of amethyst light, the owl vanished.
    Professor Klemenson handed her sunglasses back. “What's your cell phone number?”
    “Huh?” was the most intelligent thing she could come up with. She stood staring at him with her sunglasses dangling in one hand. He smelled so good, warm and masculine. He was close enough to run her hands over his broad chest and down the flat surface of his stomach. Yep, she’d officially lost control of both her mind and her hormones.
    “Your cell phone number. You do have a phone, don't you? I never see a girl these days who’s not talking or texting on one of those things.”
    “Uh, cell phone. Yeah. I have one of those. My number is 555-1354.”
    Professor Klemenson shot her a look as though he was unsure about her mental capacities, and she strived to appear normal.
    “Good. Now sit down and go back to reading your book as though nothing happened. I'm going back to get my things, and I’ll call you before class starts.”
    Professor Klemenson handed her the book she’d dropped, gave her a polite smile, then shook her hand for anyone watching to see. The rush of desire filled her body again as her fingers lingered in his after the