Jessabelle's Beast (Shadows in Sanctuary Book 3)

by Susan Trombley

  All of the other males were relatively young. They were the weakest of the umbrose, and therefore smaller, the ones least likely to win a Challenge for an umbrose female. Until they grew older, wiser, and stronger, a human female was their best opportunity for a concubine. Thus, they were eager and excited about this meeting.

  Lady Lilith had arranged the numbers so as not to intimidate the females—because there were many more warriors on the list waiting for their chance—so these warriors had an excess of females to choose from. Except for Gorzo, who’d been lucky the women hadn’t run screaming from the room when they saw him.

  Though his features had always been fierce—even when he was a spawn—among his tribe, he’d been considered reasonably handsome and had never had a problem finding a willing woman to share his bed and then eventually a true-mate to share his life and bear his spawn.

  Among the Sanctuary umbrose, his ritualistic scars set him apart. What had been an attractive feature to his people was an abnormality to the city umbrose.

  Among the humans, he not only had to overcome the bias against the typical umbrose features, but also what set him apart from his own kind. It was hopeless, and though Gorzo wasn’t the type to give up easily, he knew when a battle was lost before it had even begun.

  Lilith was speaking, and he knew he should be listening, but he’d already tuned out the entire process. He just wanted this meeting to be over with.

  The soft, alien scents of the human females were almost completely masked by the chemical odors—artificial fragrances and cleansers— they always wore. Scents which offended the sensitive noses of the umbrose.

  His primal disliked the pungent, sharp odors immensely; though he caught an intriguing whiff of fragrance beneath it all that he considered trying to sniff out, before abandoning the thought. Even if he could pinpoint the female—who smelled almost like the summer breeze blowing over the wildflowers that dotted the grasslands of his tribal land—he doubted she’d be interested in looking at him, much less speaking to him.

  His primal objected to his decision to abandon the search for the evocative scent, and the female it belonged to. Usually he was in complete accord with the primitive part of his nature. It was another thing about him that set him drastically apart from the city umbrose, who had spiritually mutilated themselves during a terrible rite of passage in an effort to distance themselves from their primals. And they object to my physical scars when the ones they bear are so much worse.

  Lady Lilith completed her speech. A smattering of noise from the human side of the room erupted as the females clapped their hands together for some reason. Perhaps it was a ritual he hadn’t heard of, but Lilith seemed comfortable with it, so it must not be a sign of aggression.

  He started paying attention as Lilith and her handmaiden, Sari, moved to the umbrose side to speak to the warriors, and another human female who had stood with Lilith during her speech moved to the human side.

  Lilith led one of the warriors to the center of the room where the other woman was leading a handful of the females. Soon, Lilith abandoned the male to the females, who were giggling in an annoying way.

  Despite his size in comparison to theirs, the flustered male seemed surrounded as the women closed in, talking to him in excited voices that were translated to Umbrose through the tinny sound of Lady Lilith’s translator devices, which all the males wore around their necks.

  Lilith pulled more males into the center of the room, and more females joined them. The noise level rose as both umbrose and human voices echoed off the concrete walls offset by the mechanical translator sounds.

  Before long, the women weren’t waiting to be led. Instead, they were making their own way to the center of the room to introduce themselves to the males. The warriors still on his side continued to hesitate, uncertain of their reception and content to let Lilith lead them into the fray.

  Gorzo had no intention of joining the knot of people now crowding the center of the room. He’d already caught several glances of fear cast in his direction. He had no desire to see the human females scatter as he walked among them.

  Still, Lilith would expect him to make some effort before allowing him to escape. With that in mind, he studied the females to see if any caught his interest. He didn’t expect any of them to.

  With skin colors ranging through a spectrum from very dark brown to a light-peach color, and hair and eye colors in an even greater variety, they were, despite that diversity, all small and fragile. Most of them would only stand to the middle of his chest. There was one female who might actually be able to look over his shoulder if she stood on the tips of her strange toes.

  To his surprise, his searching gaze revealed a female sitting apart from the others, still on the other side of the room, whereas all the others had joined the crowd in the center. It looked as if the human coordinator was trying to get her to join the crowd, as the woman stood next to her talking and gesturing.

  The seated woman simply shook her head and picked up an almost empty glass of sparkling gold liquid. She put it to shapely lips and gulped back the last of the drink before offering a weak smile to the other woman.

  His primal reacted to the sight of the seated woman, urging him to walk over to her even as her eyes lifted from her glass and met his. She quickly looked away, and he wished he’d been close enough to her to see what color her eyes were. He’d been told that humans had many different colors of eyes. He’d personally only seen brown and blue.

  Her hair was a deep reddish-brown that gleamed in the light shining on her side of the room. It was tied back in a single plait that lay over one shoulder, but there was a waviness to it that suggested it was curly—another oddity for the umbrose, who all had straight black hair.

  Despite the paleness of her skin, she was beautiful, a rival of any umbrose female he’d ever seen. It was clear that she’d tried to downplay that beauty as it looked as though she wore no makeup to accent her eyes and no sign of jewelry. The clothing on her petite body was also plain—what Lady Lilith called a tunic and pants—yet it accented generous curves on both her chest and hips that were wholly human, as umbrose females were almost always very lean and muscular.

  He had a strange feeling of recognition as he watched her sitting by herself, pretending that she wanted to be in this place where she was obviously not comfortable. He wondered what had brought her here, since she didn’t seem to be looking for what the other females wanted.

  He couldn’t imagine why she would be without a mate, as she didn’t look very young, though she wasn’t old either. According to Lilith, there was no shortage of human females in Dome City, but she was a beauty in comparison to the other females present. Surely she could have found someone among her own kind to care for her and protect her.

  “General, are you ready to join the others?” Lilith asked as she came up to him.

  Though he knew she’d approached him, he’d been unwilling to take his eyes off the seated woman to address the lady. Now he turned to meet her curious eyes above her veil. “I’ll stay here.”

  Lilith sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes on him. “You really haven’t seen anyone who interests you?”

  He wondered if she’d caught him staring at the woman, or perhaps she was reading his mind. His primal nearly took hold of his tongue to tell Lilith that he had found one female interesting. Instead, he shook his head, keeping his mouth shut to avoid blurting the truth.

  Tapping one slipper-clad foot, she stared at him for a moment longer. Then she sighed again and shook her head. “All right, then. I promised I wouldn’t force you to talk to anyone. Thank you for coming, General. You don’t have to remain if you don’t w—”

  “Um… excuse me?”

  They both turned at the sound of a tentative voice. Gorzo had sensed the woman’s approach, but he’d expected her to veer off towards the other males and not continue on to him. Now that she was close enough to speak to him, he could smell her clearly
over the other scents in the room. She was the one with the wildflowers-in-summer scent. His primal spurred him into taking a deep breath until her fragrance filled his head.

  “Well, hello!” Lilith turned to the woman, clapping her hands together in front of her. “It’s Jessabelle, isn’t it?”

  The woman nodded, glancing at him with eyes that were light gray, nearly the same color as a silverlight moth. “I usually just go by Jessa.” She dropped her gaze to the floor as if studying her reflection in the tiles.

  Gorzo could see the fine trembling in her muscles as her fingers twisted together in front of her. She looked afraid, yet she was standing close enough for him to touch. Perhaps she had only come to speak with Lilith.

  “Jessa, I’m glad you came over here. I’d like you to meet General Gorzo.” Lilith turned back to him and winked before facing Jessa again.

  Since Gorzo spoke DC Common reasonably well, he didn’t have to wait for the translator around his neck to tell him what Lilith had said. He didn’t miss the stress she’d put on his title, either. For the umbrose, titles meant a great deal, especially to a concubine seeking a protector. None of the other warriors present came anywhere close to his rank. If he had been considered more civilized, and had chosen to sunder his primal, he probably would have had his choice of umbrose females based on his rank alone.

  Instead of having a positive effect, his title seemed to unnerve the woman. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her skin turned even paler. “General?” she whispered in a choked voice.

  Lilith seemed to realize she’d miscalculated and hurried to reassure the other woman. “He’s an absolute gentleman, I assure you.”

  Gorzo wondered if he should intervene and say something in his own defense before Jessa ran away screaming from the war-mongering barbarian umbrose. His primal recommended that he grab her up and steal her away to someplace hidden where he could get to know her without any outsiders interfering. He was tempted, although that sort of thing would definitely get him into trouble with the prince and princess. Not to mention that he wasn’t certain it would have the desired affect with Jessa. She seemed skittish already.

  Proving that she couldn’t actually read minds, Lilith said, “I’ll leave you two alone to chat,” and then hurried away before either of them could react.

  The exit wasn’t that far away. He could have her in his arms in seconds and be out the door before the guards could draw their weapons.

  “I’m not very good at this,” she said, interrupting his tentative plan to abduct her.

  He understood that completely. “Did you want to speak to Lady Lilith?” Because he still couldn’t believe she’d crossed the room to speak to him.

  She looked startled for a moment. “You speak DC Common?”

  “Some.” More than some. He’d started learning the language as soon as he’d arrived in Sanctuary, sensing that the humans were formidable as either ally or foe, and their language should be understood by those who might one day need to fight them. Still, his accent was heavy, and some words were difficult for him to say. There was no need to let on that he understood far more than he spoke. He switched to Umbrose to avoid tripping over any difficult words, figuring the translator—as annoying as it was—would pass on his meaning. “You seemed bothered by my title.”

  Jessa shook her head. “Oh, no! I think it’s very impressive! You must be very skilled as a warrior.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?” He watched her face carefully. As unnerving as it was to see so many unveiled females, it helped that he could read her easily because of it.

  “Not at all,” she said. The way her eyes shifted told him she was lying.

  She’d come to meet an umbrose male, but warriors unnerved her. Again he wondered why she was here. His primal didn’t care. It had already decided that she would be his. She was fragile and small. She was pale and skittish. She was afraid of him. None of that mattered. It took every ounce of control he had to stop his primal from leaning him forward to whisper the word: “mine” in her ear.

  *****

  Jessa wondered if she should have her head examined. She’d already been intimidated by the idea of taking a warrior as a lover, especially an oversized warrior like an umbrose male. So her contrary libido decided to choose the largest of them, and he was also a general. For the umbrose, that meant he had fought his way to his rank. That made him some kind of super-warrior.

  She was supposed to be looking for an umbrose mate who was weak and easily manipulated. The males at this mixer were supposed to be the lowest ranking of the umbrose, those who didn’t have the strength and status to claim an umbrose female. The general looked anything but weak, and since he apparently spoke and understood DC Common, he would not be easily manipulated. He would not be easy for her to handle at all.

  Still, of all the males present, he was the only one who appealed to her, and he appealed on a much stronger level than she’d anticipated. Not only did his woodsy musk smell good, but being closer to him, she could see his eyes beneath the shadows cast by his brows. They sparkled with good humor at odds with his fiercely serious expression. Judging by the way her stomach fluttered and her body flushed being this close to him, she suspected it wouldn’t be a great sacrifice to share his bed—as long as he was gentle with her.

  The idea had always frightened her, though she’d accepted that it was part of being claimed as a concubine. If she was going to have an umbrose protector, she would have to share her body with him. She wasn’t very experienced in that area, though she’d done plenty of research that had left her blushing and uncomfortably warm and damp between her legs.

  He was studying her with piercing eyes which made her realize that she’d fallen silent. She cursed her lack of people skills. If she was more outgoing, she could keep a conversation rolling along, like so many of the women were doing with the other umbrose males. Instead, she was standing there trying not to ogle him and think about what might happen if he liked her enough to claim her. “Have you ever been to Dome City?” she blurted out, just to fill in the silence.

  Gorzo’s nod was just a slight dip of his scarred chin, his gaze never leaving her face. “I saw your Hub.” He shrugged. “It was… different.” His tone implied that was the nicest thing he could think of to say about it.

  Jessa scuffed her shoe on the tile as she groped for another conversational salvo. This was so awkward. He would certainly grow tired of her and seek another woman to entertain him. Too quiet and solemn. More comfortable with books than people. That was her. What am I doing here?

  “Why are you here?” he asked in his deep, accented Common, echoing her own thoughts so closely she had a brief fear that he could read her mind, before reminding herself that there’d never been any evidence of umbrose having that ability.

  “I don’t know,” she said, without thinking.

  He chuckled. “Perhaps, like me, you were forced into coming.”

  A brief moment of panic assailed her as she examined his words, searching for an accusation. “You were, um, forced to be a part of this?”

  Gorzo looked around the room briefly. “Out of respect, I have attended.” He returned his gaze to her. “I am grateful for that, now.”

  When she met his eyes, they were steady on her face, as if he could tell all of her secrets just by reading her expressions. Perhaps he could. She should’ve been better prepared for this, but even what information she’d found on the umbrose had denied empathic capabilities. Perhaps the umbrose were simply extremely perceptive. Or perhaps this one was, which made him even more dangerous.

  Stupid choice, Jessa! Walk away now! Yet her feet didn’t obey her desperate command. Her mind was ready to beat a hasty retreat, but her body was enjoying his proximity too much to leave.

  “What makes you grateful that you attended, General?” she asked to distract herself from her treacherous body, not entirely certain she wanted to hear the answer. The level of her confusion was mounting with each stilt
ed word they exchanged in this incredibly awkward mixer. She was only trying to make conversation and had grabbed at the last thing he’d said in order to craft a reply that should be innocuous and inoffensive.

  In response, General Gorzo’s gaze sharpened on her, losing that sparkle of good humor for a recognizable glimmer of curiosity in the depths of his all-black eyes. “I had not thought to find a female I’d wish to claim or who might wish to accept my claim. I told myself it was unimportant and that this,” he gestured to the decorated bunker, “is all a waste of time for me.” Then he looked down into her face, and Jessa almost took a step back at the teeth he bared in a mockery of a smile. Sharp teeth, flanked by massive canines, which left no doubt as to their purpose. “Yet, here you stand, with hair the color of the igamnis ligmolz tree, eyes as silver as any adura moth, skin so clear and pale that it rivals the finest alabaster, and you don’t cringe away from me or look upon me with fear or disgust. I’m beginning to think perhaps this was not such a waste of time. Do you find me tolerable?”

  Some of her earlier boldness, like approaching him in the first place, had been prompted by the champagne that she’d gulped down after everyone’s backs were turned. She’d drunk the champagne with the complete certainty that she wouldn’t be able to do what she’d come to do sober. Now as she listened to his own self-deprecating remarks, she wondered at his humility. Indeed, she couldn’t imagine why the other women were keeping their distance from him. He had the proportions of a god. None of the other warriors in the room were his equal, and they knew it. Jessa could tell by the way they kept their own wary distance from Gorzo.

  Granted, his face was different from the others, but she found it interesting to look at. The other males seemed bland in their handsomeness. Gorzo’s face had character, and the pattern of scars decorating it was intriguing. She felt an unaccountable urge to trace the line of his jaw, touch his lips, stroke her finger over his heavy brows and flattened, oft-broken nose, and maybe— if she had more champagne—she could dare touching the horns that crowned his head. I shouldn’t have drunk all that champagne! Still…