Read Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) Online
Authors: Jill Braden
Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3)
Tempt the
Devil
Copyright © 2014 by Jill Braden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
the copyright owner.
Published in the United States by Wayzgoose Press.
Edited by Dorothy E. Zemach.
Maps by Will Mitchell.
Cover design by DJ Rogers.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously.
the Devil
________________________________
Jill Braden
_________________________________
Note
:
The glossary contains terms and names from all three books:
The Devil’s Concubine
,
The Devil Incarnate
, and
Tempt the Devil
. Terms from
Tempt the Devil
(except characters and
place names) are hotlinked to the glossary the first time they appear. Click on
the link to go directly to the glossary definition; then use the ‘back’ button
on your ereader to return to your place in the novel. You may also enjoy simply
browsing through the glossary before or after reading the novel, to immerse
yourself more fully in the world of Ponong. The glossary comprises
Foreign Words, Terms, and Cultural Notes
;
Races and Beings
; and
Places
.
Chapter 2: The Governor’s Favor
Chapter 8: At the Dragon Pearl
Chapter 10: Reporting to
Grandfather Zul
Chapter 13: In QuiTai’s Office
Chapter 15: Voorus Learns the
Law
Chapter 20: At the End of Their
Ropes
Chapter 21: A Dungeon
Deception
Chapter 22: The Murderer
Revealed
Chapter 23: And for Her
Final Trick, a Disappearing Act
Chapter 1: A New ArrivalShe was
vapor:
insidious, addicting, forbidden.
She was QuiTai, the Devil’s right hand – and often
his left one too. Former actress, former prostitute, former mistress to kings
and prime ministers, she was a dangerous mixture of ruthlessness, charm,
intelligence, and cunning.
And she
was in Kyam’s dreams again.
This time, she wasn’t a lover or his partner in adventure.
Instead, she showed him the slums of Old Levapur, and forced him to look at the
bodies of executed prisoners hanging from the fortress walls. Nothing he said
would stop her from revealing horrors.
He woke relieved to find himself alone, yet he reached
across the sheets to make sure she wasn’t beside him. It was his ritual after
dreaming of her.
Birds chirped happily in the snakeflower tree outside his
window. He pulled the pillow over his head, but there was no way he could fall
back asleep.
He sat on the edge of the bed a long while. From the angle
of the sunlight coming in through the typhoon shutters, it was already late
morning. He had to be at the wharf when the
Golden
Barracuda
arrived, and according to the
farwriter
message he’d received last night, they expected to be dropping anchor about
now.
Still, he didn’t rise. Sighs lifted his shoulders. Time
slipped past and he let it go.
He ran his hand over his face. He could rub away sleep,
but he couldn’t erase his sense of dread. It clung to him every day that he was
stuck on this infernal island. The worst of it hit him in the morning as he
walked across the town square to his office. The sight of the gold sea dragons
wrapped around the red columns of the government building was like piling stones
on his already sinking heart.
It was QuiTai’s fault. She’d condemned him to this when
she’d made him look like the hero of the rice riot, and Thampur’s grateful king
had named him governor of the colony. Grandfather had made sure of that.
He had to escape from this damned island. Last night, he’d
seen a glimmer of hope; this morning, he couldn’t decide if he dared think of
freedom. He would make up his mind later. For now, he would go through the
motions as he did every day. He would get up and shave. He’d get dressed. Any
moment now.
Eventually.
Kyam pushed aside the mosquito net and rose from his bed.
The household staff he’d brought to Levapur had already deserted him for better
positions, so he didn’t have a valet to pick a sherwani jacket that conveyed
the right message for today. What did one wear to greet one’s wife when she
appeared uninvited on one’s doorstep? In their eight years of marriage, Kyam
and Nashruu had never spent a full day in each other’s company. Now they were
to live under the same roof. They’d be trapped together in hell. No jacket, no
matter how perfect, was going to make that any easier to endure.
~ ~ ~
The Zul family compound had been the first one erected in
Levapur after Thampur claimed the island archipelago as a colony. It was on
flat land—a rarity on the mountainous island—near the sea bluffs.
It was also a rather long, hot, walk from the town square, much further than
the less exclusive neighborhoods. By the time Kyam reached the Dragon Bridge,
which connected his neighborhood to the outskirts of the Quarter of Delights,
his collar was already damp with sweat.
The jungle had reclaimed the ravine under the bridge like
an invading army digging under fortress walls. It climbed the steep dirt walls
and spilled out into a small stand of trees. Somewhere in the undergrowth were
the remains of a drainage system and stone walls from the pre-colonial days,
when the native Ponongese had farmed this land. He averted his eyes when he
passed the ruins, but that didn’t stop him from knowing they were there.
A flash of bright yellow through the trees reminded him of
Ponongese eyes. The first year he’d lived in Levapur, he’d spent far too much
time wondering if it were the Ponongese’s oval pupils or the narrow yellow irises
that made their eyes seem so alien. Since meeting QuiTai, he’d decided it wasn’t
her eyes but what lurked behind them that chilled the heart.
He stopped abruptly and darted into the trees as he
realized what the yellow was.
QuiTai was heading downhill to her brothel, the Red
Happiness. She wore the latest Continental fashion – a form-fitting
jacket with military flourishes over a long, narrow skirt that hugged her legs
to below her knees.
Longing for her pained him. He hated himself for wanting
to hear her voice, for wanting to speak to her. She was vapor, and he was an
addict. He had to get as far away from her as he could, far from this island,
where he wouldn’t be tempted by his desires anymore.
With some difficulty, QuiTai climbed the first step to the
wide, white veranda that wrapped around the pink building. Her skirt was too
narrow. He heard the seam rip as she forced the step. Frowning, she twisted
around to look at the back of the skirt. A flicker of annoyance passed across
her face. As she turned back to the brothel, something on her sleeve caught her
eyes. She lifted her arm to peer at it. Her frown deepened.
Kyam hadn’t noticed the two men in the white wicker chairs
until the former colonial governor, Turyat, rose and staggered to QuiTai. The
other one appeared to still be asleep, but from that distance, with the veranda
railing and the side of the chair blocking his view, Kyam couldn’t be sure.
Since Kyam had been named as Turyat’s replacement, the
avuncular man had turned from a causal user of
black lotus
into a
vapor ghoul
. His belly no longer filled his
jacket. Pale skin made his addict’s red lips seem brighter.
QuiTai unlocked the typhoon shutters as Turyat advanced on
her. Her shoulders tensed. Turyat smoothed a lank strand of hair across his
balding head. He had the look of a kicked dog. As QuiTai opened the shutter,
she shook her head in one, firm motion. Turyat shouted. He gripped the shutter
so she couldn’t close it.
Kyam held back. If he swooped in to save her from Turyat,
she might be grateful, but more likely, she’d give him that look, the one that
always made him feel like an idiot. She could take care of herself. He needed
to talk to her, but this wasn’t the place or time. She looked busy. Besides,
meeting with her inside the Red Happiness would give her the advantage. It was
better to bring her to his office.
Who was he kidding? She held all the tiles. Always. He
would be at her mercy no matter where they talked.
~ ~ ~
The
Golden Barracuda
,
pride of the Zul clan’s merchant fleet, had already set anchor before Kyam
arrived. The painted eye on the hull watched disapprovingly as he stepped out
of the funicular car. Maybe he should have worn the blue jacket.
The briny scent of the harbor taunted him. As he crossed the
white sand beach, waves surged toward his boots and then merrily slipped away.
They could return to the sea. He was marooned here.
The wharf sat on a narrow band of beach under fern-dotted
red dirt cliffs. A miniature marketplace did a lively business on the weathered
wooden walkway in front of the warehouses. Cargo men shouted at vendors to get
out of their way.
Kyam shoved his hands into his pockets and lowered his
chin as he walked past a sailor haggling over a caged gray monkey. He could
have told the man that Captain Zul wouldn’t let him bring it on board, but he
didn’t want to explain how he knew. He glanced up at the hull towering over
him. His cousin, Hadre Zul, captain of the
Golden
Barracuda
, was probably still on board. They’d once been the best of
friends; then QuiTai came between them, but not in the usual way. Hadre had
sided with her and Grandfather in the conspiracy to make him Governor. That
stung deeper than anything QuiTai had done. After all, only a fool trusted her.
Then again, when you were a Zul, only a fool trusted family.
Yet, he understood why Hadre had lent QuiTai his support.
One day he’d forgive his cousin and extend a hand. His hands shoved deeper into
his pockets. Today was not that day.
As the gangplank lowered, unexpected worry gripped Kyam.
What if he didn’t recognize his wife Nashruu and her son Khyram? The wharf was
crowded. Everyone would witness his mistake, and the gossip might fly as far as
Thampur.
He’d lain awake many nights dreading this moment since
receiving Grandfather’s message that Nashruu would be joining him in Levapur.
He had no idea how to be a husband or father. He couldn’t even pretend well.
What if they hated each other? He’d seen too many family compounds at war
within their walls. What if she blamed him for taking her away from her posh
life in Surrayya and bringing her here, to exile and imprisonment? What did she
expect from him? He felt as if he owed her apologies, some for other things he
couldn’t even think of yet.