Shadow Revealed (The Enlightened Species Book Two) (10 page)

Surprisingly it was Laliel, who leaned forward. She was one of the seated that Enlil had never heard speak before. It took Enlil a minute to remember what she was High Ones adviser to within the panel. When he did remember it was with a groan. The Fates. Fuck.

Laliel’s voice was gentle and clear. “When the new information about this Morsdente came in, it was of course you who were to be given the assignment for execution.” She showed genuine compassion. “Truth is, if the Fates had not insisted upon your discipline when your Bloodmate was murdered, you would have been allowed to hunt down the Morsdente then. However, the Fates were adamant: allowing you to go free then would have resulted in far-reaching and devastating consequences.”

Enlil had known that already. Durian, the High-Ones panel enforcer, had told him when he led Enlil, grief stricken, to the forced dormancy chamber. Enlil had asked him why they couldn’t let him hunt down the Morsdente and ensure that Etana’s spirit wasn’t suffering before the punishment?

Durian had answered him, though Enlil was pretty sure the male violated his directives by doing so
.
“Because the Fates are demanding it. For what it’s worth, the panel went back and forth on whether or not to disregard the Fates and forgo your punishment. They only agreed when the Fates declared that the decision would set in motion a chain of events that would either destroy or save the Volaticus species. Your mate’s death has set into motion something monumental, my friend.”

Last year, Enlil had thought that whatever had been set in motion had reached fruition with the SOSC’s united battle and the discovery of Jess and his other descendants. Etana would have gladly laid her life down for either reason. Enlil had even felt a slight reduction of the resentments he’d felt toward the Fates. That small degree of understanding had been negated. His hatred for the “voices of the universe”—hell, the universe itself—burned through his bloodstream.

“That was then. I will kill the Morsdente now, and to hell with the Fates.” He expected Laliel to get angry. She surprised him when her expression softened with a nod.

“That is your right.” Laliel sighed. “Honestly, Enlil, we aren’t sure what the Fates are saying in this. It is all very ambiguous, even to me. I am going to give you full disclosure of the events leading up to this gathering. Perhaps you have insight that we don’t.” Her simple acceptance of his statement kept him in place to hear her out.

Elbows on the table, fingers steepled in front of her chin, the Fates adviser continued. “When we first received the information, we broached giving the execution order to you and your Lil family bloodline warriors. The Fates were adamant that you and yours must not kill the Morsdente. Then, when we sought an alternate warrior unit for the execution order, the Fates again presented to me that it was the wrong course. Since then, the entire Oracle sect and I have been diligently trying to figure out what the Fates would have us do. They have refused to give any direction. They are not saying the Morsdente
cannot
be killed. I fully understand your rights and your fury, Enlil. No one here will stop you.” The tiny female sent a nod toward Adonia, including the speaker in her directive. It seemed the Fates advisor disagreed with Adonai’s “we are demanding it” statement. Good to know that the panel was more than a group of sheep who followed the speaker blindly. “The Morsdente must be destroyed once and for all.”

Okay. Now Enlil just had more questions. Obviously the adviser was even more frustrated and confused than he was. “Let me see if I understand this.” Anger still coursed through him. “The beast is supposed to die … only not by my hand, and not by the hand of any member of my line or a hunter unit. How does that make any sense?”

“It would appear the universe has a specific person in mind to perform the execution.” Laliel glanced away from him to the face of the gray-eyed female. “That is why we asked Umbrae to join us.”

The gray-eyed female took several deep breaths, and her jaw ticked from being clenching. She stood proud with obvious effort. Finally, with furrowed brows, the female met his gaze. “I give up my right of vengeance to Enlil.” How could this female have a greater right than him? The Morsdente had murdered his bloodmate. Nothing trumped that, unless she too had lost her mate to the beast.

“Did you lose your bloodmate?” Enlil addressed the female directly; the thread of jealously that snaked through his anger surprised him. Laliel had addressed her as Umbrae, the Latin word for shadow.

Her gaze never wavered, though she flinched at his question. “No,” she responded through gritted teeth. Enlil couldn’t look away from her. She had a unique look. Her simple, carefree hairstyle contradicted the seriously determined expression on her narrow face. Her high cheekbones further pronounced her clenched jaw. A slight overbite gave emphasis to her fuller upper lip. The line of her jutted jaw quivered as she swallowed, and her tongue peeked out to wet the thinner lower lip. She let out a sigh of defeat that Enlil couldn’t understand. “May I speak with you in private?” The Tellus male, Hans, touched Umbrae’s arm, pulling her attention to him. Enlil felt the pulse of the two communicating, and his jealousy increased. Why? His reaction to her went beyond simple appreciation of her prettiness.

Laliel spoke again. “Enlil … Umbrae … the Oracle conference room is at your disposal. I will pose Umbrae’s offer to the Fates while you are talking.” Enlil nodded and stomped in the direction of the second chamber, passing by the female. She followed, shutting the door behind her. His inappropriate attraction to her was irrelevant. Every minute was one more minute too long spent humoring the fucking Fates rather than destroying Etana’s killer so he could be spiritually re-united with his bloodmate.

****

Umbrae’s first sight of Enlil had been nothing like she’d expected. He had a hard, angry emptiness that had not been there in Etana’s memories. Yet if anything, it called to her more. She wanted to run into his arms and hold him till the emptiness went away. Enlil was a true warrior once more. Gone was the gentle side Etana had found in him; it had died with her murder. She was shocked when the predatory, dangerous side she now saw intensified her one-sided feelings for him. When he had looked at her, she’d nearly shadowed under his piercing gaze. His gaze held a flash of interest for a split second before morphing into a blank canvass, and then he’d quickly dismissed her without introduction.

The more Laliel spoke, the more it had dawned on her that whatever the Fates intended included her. She too had every right to dispense justice, perhaps more right. The temptation to take the honor from Enlil had occurred to her until she saw the twitch of his brow, the same twitch she remembered from one of Etana’s memories of Enlil as he held back tears from the loss of someone he’d cared about. Without realizing it, Enlil had betrayed, to her, the agony he veiled behind fury.

The sound of her pounding heart blocked out everything and everyone else in the room. The choice to tell Enlil her history was no longer an option. He needed to understand her connection to the Morsdente; otherwise he might hesitate at the wrong moment and place himself in danger. Perhaps the reason the Fates didn’t want Enlil to be the one had nothing to do with her. What if the Fates were protecting Enlil somehow? If he knew
why
she had rights, he might be more inclined to follow the Fates’ directives. She didn’t fully understand the Fates, Universe, and Oracles. What little she did know inclined her to believe going against them proved detrimental. How was she supposed to tell him that Etana still suffered within the killer?

Umbrae couldn’t help taking the defensive pose she’d donned during her time with Zakel, fists held against her heart. She worked hard to break the habit, but this time she didn’t even try, though she noticed Enlil glanced at her fists, then back to her face. He leaned against the table in the center of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his ankles crossed casually. She wasn’t deceived; he was anything but relaxed, and tension permeated the air.

“Why you?” he finally asked. His blank, unreadable expression was unrecognizable from Etana’s memories.

“I was his victim.” Her voice caught and she had to swallow to continue. Enlil looked her length, meeting her gaze again. “Irsu’s unit rescued me, but Master Zakel escaped. I had been held by him for more than seventy-five years ... I’m not sure of the exact number of years.” Not that the number of years mattered, yet her mind started reconciling time rather than go to the place it was heading.
“Be strong, Umbrae-girl. This moment will be difficult for Enlil too.”
The released subliminal/compulsion-initiated voice of Etana spoke to Umbrae. How many helpful prompts had her friend placed to aid her in meeting Enlil?

Enlil gave a swift intake of breath, though his face remained an unreadable mask. The gold of his eyes thinned around his pupil. “You were his blood slave?” Umbrae couldn’t help it, she had to look away as she nodded. “Did he also use you in other ways?”

She felt her shoulders slump as the false pride she’d erected crumbled and the memories she worked so hard to bury flooded her mind, taking her back in time. Enlil watched her silently, awaiting her response. When the tears fell, she shadowed, not wanting him to see her cry, but incredibly he never looked away. She stepped closer to the door, and Enlil’s gaze tracked her movements like she was visible. How was he still seeing her?

He stood, stepping unerringly to her, and pulled her shadowed form into a hug. Shadowed and shielded, she clung to him, tears racking her body in a release she’d never allowed before. Every one of the horrors she’d been subjected to broke free and her tears ran unchecked down Enlil’s solid chest. With one hand to her middle back and the other cradling her head, he held her to his chest. The beat of his heart centered her throughout the rush of pain. Enlil rested his cheek against her hair in silent understanding. Their pain may have originated from different sources, but the depth of agony they both felt was the same.

The memories released their hold on Umbrae, leaving her with the feeling of strong arms holding her. Her shadow retreated and she could see her arms wrapped around him too. In the calm after the emotional storm, she relaxed her fist against his back, the aching digits open to feel his heat beneath her hands. It should have been awkward being in the arms of a male willingly for the first time in her life, yet it felt so right. Her belly fluttered, and her nipples hardened against the thin halter that separated them. He was aroused; she could feel his erection against her stomach. Was he attracted to her? Or were their bodies simply responding to the shared emotional release? His silence had not hidden his commiseration of her pain.

Reluctantly she pulled away, keeping her eyes averted. What if she saw pity? That was one thing she never wanted from this particular male. He caught her chin in his hands forcing her to meet his eyes. “We will kill the beast together.” She didn’t see pity; she saw ruthless determination. “I will hold him, you’ll chop the fucker’s head off, and then I’ll piss in his skull.”

At first Umbrae thought he was being completely serious till he half-grinned, and she realized he was only semi-serious. He probably wouldn’t piss in Zakel’s skull. She mirrored his grin and nodded. “Can I pee on it too?” Her voice stammered—she still had a hard time utilizing sarcasm in conversation.

Enlil barked out a laugh, startling her. “Hell, Umbrae, I’ll help you aim.” His whole face changed when he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes, infused once more with the gold. She wished she could hold this moment forever.
“Enlil is a male of honor. He will do what’s right even when he disagrees. When the time comes, you must trust in him.”
Etana’s memory came rushing forward, dampening her joy.

“Enlil, I wouldn’t have lived through Zakel if I hadn’t had—” she swallowed, meeting his gaze to judge his reaction “—Etana.” Her clenched fist rose to press against her chest again, effectively driving a wedge between them. “She’s my friend. She refused to let me give up.”

Enlil pulled away. His face transformed from confusion to a dawning realization, followed quickly with shame and pain. “Tell me everything,” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

This was not how she’d hoped to have this conversation. She leaned heavily on the reassurance and strength Etana had placed within her psyche. Every memory Etana had ever gifted her, whether they involved him or not, poured from her lips. She even told him what was happening with her at the times that Etana would come to her, since all of Etana’s memories usually countered the horror of whatever she was facing. Enlil never moved or showed a single reaction, though the gold of his eyes would widen or constrict. The emerald green took on a soft glow when she told him of Etana sharing her grief over the release of her and Enlil’s daughter’s spirit mere moments before she took her final breath. Umbrae left out the reason why Etana had shared that particular memory.

When she’d finished, she felt emotionally rung out. Even with Etana’s voice encouraging her to share her and Etana’s history with Enlil, she knew her words hurt him. Despite his blank, controlled expression, this ranked amongst the most difficult things she’d ever done. Fates, he was handsome even now. Could he hear her heart pound?

“Do you think Etana might have passed after your rescue?” Enlil finally spoke. His voice was rough. Umbrae shook her head. “Why?”

“She has a reason to remain within Zakel. She never told me why. I have compulsions from her. I think that might be why the Fates want us both there when Zakel dies. I think she remains to tell you goodbye,” Umbrae whispered.

Enlil dropped his face in his hands. “I have failed her in every way,” he admitted shamefully. Umbrae felt her breath being sucked out of her. She didn’t know what to do. This was not what Etana would have ever wanted Enlil to feel. Her nails had left moon-shaped imprints in her palms when she tried to release her tightly held fist. Her elbow popped with tension as she forced them to relax from her chest. Her exhausted arm muscles shook as she hesitantly hugged him, mimicking the kindness he had shown her earlier.