Shadow Revealed (The Enlightened Species Book Two) (35 page)

“When was your last normal menstruation?” His manner was professional in spite of the humorous T-shirt.

She tried to keep her hand steady and legible. She wasn’t a great writer anyway—she had very little formal education. With a barely legible scribble she wrote: “Time is hard for me to gauge, my master was nomadic. It was sometime during the Nazi war, I remember the uniforms.”

He nodded, somehow reading her writing. “What about estrus?”

Oh, Fates, she knew this would happen someday. She’d refused the gynecological exams when she’d first been rescued, which Abby had chalked up to her being a rape victim. “About ten years ago, I think,” she wrote. Luckily she hadn’t gotten pregnant that time.

He nodded again, a confused look on his face. “How many times have you been pregnant?”

She blinked the tears away so she could focus on writing her answer. The sooner she got it all out, the sooner she could try to forget … again. “A lot. most of them were Hulven and didn’t last more than a few months. One Hulven pregnancy went seven months, and I got pregnant during an estrus; it nearly went four months. That was the last time. I never menstruated again and I only had one more estrus, but it only lasted a few days.”

She handed the notebook to Herme; he read through it twice, flipped to a new sheet and handed it back to her. Full of dread anticipating his next question, she palmed the pad, waiting. “Did you self-terminate any of them?”

The memory of the day Etana spoke to her of how she had released her unborn daughter’s spirit energy into the universe right before Zakel had taken her last drop of blood played through her mind. It was Etana’s way of both explaining to her how to do the horrific deed and giving her some comfort for having to make such a difficult choice. At the time, Umbrae was already full of guilt about the death of the two-month premature Hulven son.

She’d know he would be born dead. She hadn’t felt him move for weeks before she went into labor chained to a tree. Zakel had been gone for over a month. He didn’t even realize she was pregnant; she barely showed. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink the whole time he’d been gone. After the baby was born, she held its lifeless body for hours before burying it next to her and hiding all trace of the birth before Zakel returned. She’d lain over the baby’s grave, in and out of consciousness, for days, wishing for death.

“I released the Elven baby’s energy from my womb,” she wrote, shame filling her. As much as she wanted the child, Zakel would have killed it for the high.

“That was in the nineteen-forties? I mean during the Nazi war?” She nodded; inside she knew she didn’t deserve to ever have children after what she had done.

“Am I barren?” she wrote, handing him the pad to read as hopeless acceptance plunged her mind into a dark place. She still needed to have it confirmed by Herme, the final nail in her coffin. Eros would be hurt; she knew he hoped for grandchildren. She had no idea how Enlil would take the news. He had lost so much already.

Herme snorted incredulously at what she had asked and grinned at her. “Not hardly. I’d say you are extremely fertile.” He tapped the pad with his finger. Her mind went into complete confusion. A list of why’s, and how’s—too long for her to ever write down. “I see the questions running across your expression. Let me explain what I know, and if you still have questions when I’m done, we can go over them.”

Rising, he pulled a touch screen computer from the drawer behind him, fiddling with the screen before stepping next to her head and holding the screen so she could see it. The bones of her lower ribs, spine, lower wings and hips were clearly visible; there was also what looked like a baseball in the center of her stomach. Herme pointed at it. “That is the calcified remains of your Elven pregnancy.” He pointed to a tiny spot at the top of the ball-looking thing. “Those are where the fetus’s wing fingers clung to your uterus. It is rare, but I have seen it before. Essentially this has been working like a form of birth control in your body for over five decades. It tricked your human reproduction into behaving as if you were already pregnant, stopping your menstrual cycles completely. Your estrus began and then received the same message; that is why it only lasted a few days rather than weeks. The only way to remove it was surgically.”

He set the mini computer aside and sat back down. “I hope you don’t think this sounds cruel, but I think that dynamic was a gift of the Fates, considering the situation you were in.” His comment pulled her back from the awful idea that her dead child was inside her all this time. Maybe he was right. “For what it’s worth, your uterus is perfect, I see no reason why you can’t have children in the future if you desire them, though it may take a few months before your hormones balance. I would not be surprised if you dropped into estrus in the next few months.” He’d linked his hands behind his head and lifted a cowboy boot to rest on the bed frame as he delivered news that filled her with hope and joy. She was not damned after all.

Tears flowed down her cheeks and a smile lit inside her that she couldn’t contain. Herme returned it. “So do you have any questions for me?” he asked casually.

Umbrae glanced at the pad still clutched in her hand. There was only one she could think of, and it brought a blush to her cheeks: “How long till I can be intimate with my mate?”

Herme leaned forward to read it from her hand, grinning. “I’d give your throat a few more days to heal; passionate cries are a no-no right now. Other than that, you are cleared to enjoy yourself. I do have one request.”

She lifted an eyebrow in question. Herme chuckled. “I’d like to be your personal healer when you conceive. The child of a siphon and a shadower, added to the amazing fortitude that both you and your mate have demonstrated in your lifetime …” He shook his head in wonder. “That will be a child to be reckoned with, I daresay.”

Umbrae nodded vigorously at the healer’s request. The image of the child she and Enlil might one day pushed everything else into the past. She scribbled one last time on the pad: “Thank you so much for saving my life and my dreams.”

Herme plucked the pad from her fingers and tore the page out, folding it into his back pocket and handing the rest of the pad back to her. He swallowed loudly and took her hand, bowing low over it in an old-world style. “My pleasure, my lady.” He headed toward the door. “I will let your family in now.” His eyes took in the cots scattered about the room. “This is the longest any of them have been away from you all week.” With that he left the room.

The door hadn’t even swung fully shut before the parade of loved ones started back in. Umbrae couldn’t contain the smile she had, didn’t want to if she could. Each of them returned the smile with a curious one of their own. The last one in was Enlil, who took his spot at her side once more. She could tell him telepathically, but she wanted to share her wish in writing.

Flipping to a clear sheet, she wrote a short sentence and held it up for him to read: “I want a baby!”

Enlil read it and then looked around the curious faces in the room before returning his beautiful green eyes to her. “Right this minute?” A happy teasing grin lit his face; oh, how she loved him.

She ripped out the sheet letting it fall on her legs where everyone would be able to read it. She scribbled again: “Estrus in a few months.” She held the new page up to him, and the tender way he looked at her filled her with happiness. Plucking the pad out of her hand, he tossed the whole thing face up on her legs, leaning over to kiss her soundly in answer.

****

Had he ever been this fucking tired in his life? Gil trudged his way up the stairs toward his suite. The construction crew had repaired the wall, and a new frame and door awaited him; all that needed to be done was paint. The image of Innanna’s ferocious expression when she blew his door to smithereens floated to the forefront of his mind. The female was drop-dead, stop-your-heart gorgeous when she was angry, though she hit like a girl. His dick got hard every time he thought about it. He’d even gotten the courage to tell her he loved her before all hell broke loose.

Innanna had gone behind closed doors with the Oracles shortly after Herme had taken Umbrae to the Hospe. Gil had been busy securing the campus, interrogating the prisoner, and interviewing the kid who just wanted to be a good guy and was born to a monster. He’d been able to distract himself from missing her somewhat. He’d never gotten to dance with her, not once. Hell, the most physical contact he got was her fists hitting his face.

Pushing open the new door, he was glad to see the mess had been cleaned up. Spackle marks on the far wall had replaced the shrapnel that had penetrated it. Gil dragged his ass into the shower, letting the water rinse the last few days off him. Half asleep, he hit the pillow, wishing Innanna’s sweet body were here to curl around. Would she come to him when she was finished with the Oracles? Thoughts of waking up to her sweet night-jasmine scent had him going to sleep with a smile.

****

The clock next to the bed told him it was after midnight, either that or noon. The sound of music from the living room woke him. Groaning, he wrapped the pillow around his head. Couldn’t they paint later? The door to his room opened and the light hit him in the face. “Get out,” he grumbled a second before Innanna’s scent wafted to him. The door started to close slowly.
Aw, hell
. He snapped his eyes open and sat straight up. “I dinna mean you, Darlin’. I thought ya were the painters, donna leave.” She was illuminated from behind, so he couldn’t see her face, just the outline of her lovely curves.

“I brought you some dinner. Are you hungry?” His belly rumbled his answer and Innanna giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Her indrawn breath when he stood up, completely naked and hard as a rock, was an ego boost. He stretched, preening like a peacock under her inspection, and then threw on a robe, which tented over his erection. Her arousal made her scent stronger; he drew the intoxicating aroma deep into his lungs. She backed into the living room as he approached, giving him his first real look at her.
Great balls of fire
. She wore a hot-pink, baby-doll teddie. The top barely covered her nipples, leaving the rise of her breasts bare and her cleavage daring him, and it was sheer over her midsection, giving him easy view of the matching panties. The soft outfit was in perfect, scandalous contradiction to the pair of six-inch, come-hither, thigh-high boots. Welcome to happy fucking libido land, he mentally hoorad his dick.

“Well, well, well, Darlin’, make my night an’ tell me yer not plannin’ on teasin’ me ta death, ‘cuz that outfit’s a heart attack waitin’ ta happen.” He tried to grab her; she dodged out of his reach.

“Dinner first.” She pulled out a chair from his tiny, two-seat table, holding it for him like a gentleman. Sitting, he tried to grab her again when she slipped by, but she dodged him again. The lights dimmed leaving the table bathed in candlelight. A plate piled high with roast beef and russet potatoes sat in front of him. Sighing he lifted his fork, his goal to eat his fill in thirty-five seconds flat so he could have Innanna for desert.

Gil had the first bite in his mouth when the music changed to a sultry song. Innanna started to sway her hips erotically. With slow, cat-walk steps, she peered at him over her shoulder. Every part of him wagged enthusiastically watching her. He set his fork down. With an exasperated sigh, she stopped dancing. No fair—why did she stop? She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her sexy heel in annoyance. He picked up his fork and took another bite. The sexy dance started again. The little vixen was tormenting him. His plan to wolf it down was mute in the face of the benefits to eating slowly. Talk about a win-win.

He made it through half his dinner, the slow removal of the teddy top, her sweet ass clad in silk panties rising up toward him from her position on all fours for his viewing pleasure. It was the slow sensual removal of her panties, leaving her in nothing but the boots, that was his undoing. Her sinful innocence was heaven on earth and more than he’d ever envisioned. Pushing back from the table, he turned his chair to face her. His robe had long ago gaped open, and he’d spent the last few bites with one fist wrapped around his fork and the other his manhood.

Standing, he pulled her against his chest. Finally he would get to dance with her, she was in his arms. He led her through a slow dance. She fluidly followed the moves. They’d always danced well together, any style and speed. Her back arched over his arm in a complicated dip, her hair sweeping the ground, and he captured her nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth. Sliding his fingers down her body, he lifted her leg by the ankle and released her breast to nibble and lick up her sternum, her neck, and capturing her lips when she rose, balanced on one foot, her ankle still firmly in his hand, so flexible. He cupped her butt and lifted her fully against him.

She whispered, “You should ask me now.” Her breathy voice played across his skin, wrecking havoc in him.

“I love you, Innanna. I will love you for the rest of my life. Be my bloodmate, make me the luckiest male alive. Be mine, forever.” Gil stared into the depth of the purest shade of violet.

“I’ve always been yours Gilgamesh. I love you with all that I am.” She leaned to his neck, her sheath slowing sliding over his erection. Gil’s heart melted at her words. “I take thee as my bloodmate.” Her dentes sank into his vein. Thrusting into her fully, Gil took her to the wall.

His voice thick with love and passion, he repeated, “I take thee as my bloodmate,” and sank his dentes deep into her neck. Her ancient blood coursed through him with the power of her psychic energy. Fully gone to rapture, he thrust his hips, riding their mutual pleasure. Innanna’s muffled cries at his throat took him to a whole new level of heaven. Higher they climbed, her inner walls clinging, pulling him to his hilt, squeezed tighter as she tore from his throat. “Gil!” The deep pulse of her climax dragged the most powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced from him; he roared as his seed pumped into her core. She was his and he was hers forevermore.