Tempting Flame (The Jendari Book 1) Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 DJ Michaels

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-273-8

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  TEMPTING FLAME

  The Jendari

  DJ Michaels

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Arrival

  Tallis Ba'reha stalked down the corridor of the starship that had been his home for the last two years—most of which had been spent in stasis. His most recent bout of wakefulness started seven cycles ago, but it felt more like forty. His planet-loving skin itched as he walked along a sterile passageway that reeked of metal and machine.

  Like all Jendari, Tallis was a being of earth and trees. And as much as he hated living on this ship, he was profoundly grateful that the craft was still holding together. The space fissure that had transported them to this galactic wasteland had almost ripped the vessel apart and the entire ship's company was lucky to have survived. Itchy skin was a small price to pay for the safety of the seed ship's priceless cargo. Every person on this vessel, every sample of flora and fauna, was a treasure from his home world. It was the only piece of home any of them would have.

  Stepping around an overworked repair crew, Tallis ducked under a fallen steel beam and continued on without missing a beat. He was a Jendari warrior, a rhe'hashan, and within days of waking from his long sleep his body had regained fighting form. The meeting he was about to attend would tell him if those battle skills were going to be put to use.

  This briefing was invitation only, yet the small, windowless room was packed. Four Elders sat on a raised platform at the top of the chamber, accompanied by Borini K'ahel, the leader of the rhe'hashan. Around the chamber were a mixed contingent of diplomats, politicians, strategists, and warriors. All the Jendari came from different regional clans and their skin color reflected their diversity. From the pale clansfolk of the Ice Plains to the ebony hues of the Sea of Sand, every territory was represented. Tallis's black hair and light-brown skin marked him as a member of the Flame Mountains, and while he was proud of his ancestry, he was—first and foremost—rhe'hashan.

  The physical proportions of the warrior class made their profession obvious. Not just their height or their powerful bodies, but in the way they moved—watchful and predatory. Every rhe'hashan had a secondary form, an animal or bird that was as much a part of them as their two-legged state. Tallis could transform into a tigaren at will and, for those who knew what to look for, that feline aspect showed in every move he made.

  He scanned the room, automatically searching for threats or anomalies. He knew every person in the chamber, if not personally then by reputation, but that didn't mean he would let down his guard. His people had been fighting for survival for so long that vigilance was second nature.

  Five years ago his home planet of Jendar had fallen under attack by a race bent on conquest and genocide. Despite the best efforts of Jendari magic and off-world technology, the slide towards defeat couldn't be halted. In a desperate bid to salvage what they could, those in power ordered four galactic cruisers to be cannibalized into arks. When the hour they all feared arrived, thousands of Jendari took to the skies, each ship carrying the seeds to begin a new life on a new world. Men and women from every strata of clan life—young and old, skilled and unskilled—were included in the exodus. The seed ships also carried as many botanical samples as possible, as well as cell samples of the animals and birds native to Jendar.

  As far as Tallis was concerned, it was the most precious cargo to ever fly the skies. It was why so many rhe'hashan were on board. And Tallis was honored to be among their number, itchy skin not withstanding.

  As he made his way into the crowded meeting room, he noticed his best friend Deasun standing off to one side. Like every other warrior in the room, he wore the standard rhe'hashan battle-leathers of black trousers and vest. Dea also sported heavy combat boots that were currently planted squarely on the tiled floor. Tallis made his way to the section of wall Dea was taking up with his too-wide shoulders and mirrored his pose, doubling the amount of occupied space.

  "How's that chef you've been chasing?" Tallis's voice was little more than a murmur.

  Deasun's mouth kicked up at the corner. "She's as delicious as the food she cooks."

  "And what happened to that girl in hydroponics?"

  "She's pleased we parted on good terms." Dea leaned a little closer. "When both parties want the same thing, everybody's happy. We play for a while, then we part ways, and it's all good."

  Tallis turned his head to stare at the male who was his brother in all but blood. "We've only been awake for seven cycles, and you've already bedded two women."

  Dea's grin got wider. "Three actually. Although the lovely Genna didn't actually require a bed."

  "For the love of Badria, stop talking." Laughing, Tallis held up his hand in protest. "My poor ears can't bear any more."

  "Relax. I'm a male of honor, I'd never kiss and tell."

  That statement was so fraught with truth and half-lie that Tallis didn't even want to touch it. Thankfully Borini K'ahel chose that moment to stand and bring the meeting to order. As he took his position behind the lectern, the hush was instantaneous. Borini was the senior warrior on this mission, and he was the kind of male who led by example. By long-lived Jendari standards he was in his middle years, but only a tiny smattering of gray marred his closely cropped hair. Every member of the rhe'hashan looked up to him, and Borini wore his authority with quiet ease.

  "As you all know, we're barely holding orbit. The ship took a lot of damage in that last battle and our desperate escape through the space fissure knocked out whatever systems we had left. Our repair teams are working double shifts to maintain the integrity of the ship, but we're barely sustaining life support. It seems we've reached our final destination whether we like it or not."

  Tallis closed his eyes against the grief squeezing him like a vice. His people had fought long and valiantly, and this ship might well be the last gasp to save an entire race. Each seed ship had been tasked with finding an empty planet and starting over. No one wished to compromise that goal, especially when they had no idea if the other arks had survived.

  "I'm sorry it's not better news." Borini scrubbed his hand over his cropped hair, looking tired and out of options. "And there's worse to come."

  Shifting slightly, Tallis edged closer to Deasun, pressing arm to arm in a silent moment of support and solidarity.

  Borini's eyes scanned the room. "The rest of what I'm about to say stays in this chamber." He looked over to the Elders and got a nod. "There's only one green planet in this system, and it's already occupied. It's heavily populated by a race that seems happy to wreak havoc on their world as well as each other. Their natural resources are under threat and large sections of their society are at war. Some of them live in comfort and luxury while others die from famine and disease."

  "Sweet Badria," Deasun murmmered. "Do we even want to go there?"

  Tallis was thinking the same thing, but he suspected there was no real choice to be had.

  Borini stepped out from behind the lectern and leaned his hip on th
e corner of the Elder's table. "Time is not on our side, and we can't afford to put the Earthers in a position were they can refuse us. We've gathered as much data as we can and we've had the finest minds on the ship go over every detail. The plan is high risk, and there are a hundred ways it could go wrong. We’ll be nominating landing parties, not calling for volunteers, and this plan is a go."

  Borini nodded to one of the Elders. "Kharvek, the floor is yours."

  Like most of the civilian clansfolk on board, Kharvek wore a knee-length tunic and loose trousers. The embroidery at neck, cuffs and hem was finely wrought and beautifully detailed—a testament to Kharvek's place of honor as an Elder.

  "Good morning, everyone." Kharvek nodded to the room. "As Borini mentioned, our only haven is overpopulated, but there are large tracts of wild land that we believe will accommodate us. We plan to split the ship's company into six groups of between five and six hundred people to be placed in settlements on most continents of the planet. We'll keep families and important relationships intact where we can. Every settlement will have a full cross section of clansfolk as well as a contingent of rhe'hashan."

  Hadar S'alaun, Tallis's friend and one of their fiercest warriors, raised his hand. "Kharvek, won't small settlements leave us vulnerable?"

  "No, in fact they'll aid in our security. According to our engineers, it's better for us to have five smaller, effective systems than attempt to create one so large it becomes unmanageable. And if one settlement falls, for whatever reason, the others will remain intact. The Earthers are advanced enough to be a real threat should they have a mind to. However, they still use percussion weapons for the most part, and our shields will hold against that kind of threat." Kharvek returned his attention to the room at large. "Smaller settlements also mean less drain on planet resources. And spreading across the world gives us an opportunity to understand a variety of cultures. It will also enable us to get a faster handle on global politics."

  "So what's the plan?" someone shouted from the back.

  "We have a list of what we believe are the ten most powerful nations, and we have the coordinates for their leaders' seat of power. In a synchronized action, we'll transport ourselves into the most important offices of their world and we'll open negotiations."

  Tallis took an instinctive step forward. "And what's to stop them blasting us back to the Goddess?"

  Kharvek acknowledged the question with a nod, keeping his smooth politician's mask intact. "We will prevail by using a combination of rhe'hashan muscle and advanced tech."

  "Oh for the love of the Mother," Deasun breathed.

  Kharvek carried on. "Just before the landing parties transit to the Earth coordinates, we'll send in a pulse weapon that will immobilize anyone in the vicinity. Then, while the Earthers are paralyzed, we'll transit down, secure the area and disarm any guards they may have. The leader alone will be freed, and then landing parties will begin negotiations. We intend to ask for a stretch of wilderness and complete autonomy in exchange for advanced tech and medicines."

  Tallis couldn't quite catch his breath. The audacity of this plan stole the air right out of his lungs. "They can't be serious," he wheezed.

  "Nobody's laughing." Deasun didn't sound happy either. "And as crazy as this plan sounds, it’s clear we're not going to be given a choice."

  The plan was insane. High risk and with so many variables there was no way to account or prepare for them all. But they couldn't stay on the ship either. One way or another, they had to secure a place for themselves on the green planet—because nothing but death awaited them in space.

  Chapter Two

  Hope Tower, New York City—eighteen months later

  Jasmine Teale was sweating bullets. As she walked along the sidewalk, every step took her closer to the spiraling glass and chrome architecture of Hope Tower. The building had gone up almost as soon as the aliens had arrived on Earth, and a version of Hope Tower resided in almost every major city in the world. The elegant buildings housed all manner of businesses—both human and alien—and they were the only place mixed race interactions occurred.

  Since their arrival, the Jendari had kept almost entirely to themselves. They lived in small settlements across the globe, in remote areas and national parks, and so far they'd made no effort to integrate into human society.

  The aliens had a couple of spokespeople who fulfilled all media requirements, but the rest of them kept almost exclusively to their territory, never to be seen by human eyes. The only exceptions were those who worked at Hope Tower. A handful of Jendari operated from here, keeping an eye on the aliens' various business interests and doing … well, Jaz had no idea what else they did. How could she when they were so secretive they made the Freemasons look like publicity hounds?

  Hope Tower loomed over her like the finger of doom. It rose from the pavement in an elegant twist, spiraling up into the busy New York skyline. It looked like an ice sculpture, crystal-white and sparkling in pristine glory. Rather than simply reflecting the summer sun, the endless glass panels seemed to absorb and diffuse the light, giving the building an unearthly glow. It was beautiful and imposing—and as intimidating as hell.

  Jaz walked up the front steps, trying not to wobble under the weight of all that authority. Dredging up her scant reserve of courage, she did her best to steady her racing heart.

  She was about to risk everything in this last-ditch effort, including her freedom if someone decided to press charges. She'd been backed into a corner and now she was desperate, running out of time and out of options. Even the threat of jail wasn't enough to make her turn around and go home. The sick kids she worked for were counting on her to do her job. And she'd be damned if she'd let another one of them down.

  So she lifted her chin and lengthened her stride, a private go-to-hell to the assholes who had driven her to these extreme measures.

  As she drew closer to the revolving doors, Jaz smoothed her expression and tried to appear as though she was just another bored professional. As though her knees weren't shaking and there wasn't a hot prickle of fear shuddering down her spine.

  Hopefully she'd camouflaged her exterior well enough that no one would see what a mess she was on the inside. Her light brown, waist-length hair was bound in a sedate bun—carefully crafted to hide her hot-pink ombre highlights. Her usual boho style had been put aside and she'd squeezed herself into a skirt suit that rarely saw the light of day. The fitted jacket and pencil skirt did nothing for her overly curvy figure, and her sensible pumps pinched like a crab on crack.

  And it was hot. One of those horrible, sweaty, humid days that were the downside of a New York summer. She could almost feel her understated makeup sliding off her face.

  Tucking her tote bag under her arm, she turned off the sidewalk and paced carefully up the steps to the revolving door of the tower. As she walked into the foyer she was hit with a wall of deliciously cool air. She tried to take a deep, refreshing breath, but she was too anxious for her lungs to cooperate.

  The entrance of the tower was a vast space of marble, greenery and plush chairs. Immediately to her left stood the dreaded security desk, and the other side of the foyer housed a bank of elevators. Her holy grail.

  Pasting on her best professional smile, she tried not to throw up as she faced the on-duty security guard. "Good morning. I'm Jasmine Teale. I have a ten o'clock appointment with Owen Landry."

  "Just a moment, ma'am." He scanned the names on a clipboard and when his eyes ran down the list a second, then third time, Jaz knew she was going to be disappointed. Again.

  "I'm sorry Ms. Teale, your name isn't on my list. If you wait a moment I'll call upstairs and see what's going on."

  Jaz smiled at the guard even as her stomach churned. She knew exactly what was happening. The same situation had been repeating itself for the last five months, which was why she was risking her reputation and perhaps even her freedom.

  She dipped her shaking hand into her tote bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs,
keeping them out of sight. Talk about desperate times.

  The guard hung up the phone and turned to her with a casual apology. "I'm sorry, ma'am, Mr. Landry isn't here today. You'll have to reschedule."

  She did her best not to curl her lip in disgust. Of course the asshole wasn't here to take her meeting.

  Doing her best to act the innocent, she gave the guard a vague smile. "Oh, excuse me a moment, that's my phone." She turned sideways and walked further down the counter. Right at the end there was an ornate brass bar bolted to the corner of the desk. As soon as she reached it she yanked her handcuffs free and clicked one end around her wrist and the other around the bar.

  She dropped her tote, waited until the security guard looked in her direction, then lifted her cuffed hand. According to the very helpful girl in the sex shop the restraints were cop grade, so Jaz planned to be here for a while.

  "What the hell are you doing?" The guard rushed down to her end of the counter, flustered and without a "sorry, ma'am" in sight.

  "I'm making a stand." Despite the anxiety that was surging through her body, Jaz managed to keep her voice even. She was committed now, and if she hadn't been tied to the bench top she would have jumped up on the counter to make this sacrifice truly worthwhile. On her best day being the center of attention made her nauseous, but making an exhibition of herself in this environment scared the hell out of her.

  She'd been wracking her brains trying to come up with a plan, and when her best friend suggested a public protest it had seemed like a stroke of genius. Winter was a journalist and she understood the power of the mob and how to get them on her side.

  It was just a shame that Jaz found the idea of a mob utterly terrifying.