Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) (2 page)

Despite his worry, he knew Nashruu immediately when he saw
her on the deck. She was nice. He remembered that now. You could tell by
looking at her that it wasn’t in her nature to be cruel. His smile grew.

Her boy, Khyram, hung over the junk’s railing. She pulled
him down gently. The boy had grown so much in the past three years. No longer a
toddler, his face had thinned. His boney wrists showed as he pointed at
everything interesting on the wharf. Questions spilled from his mouth, but he
didn’t seem to expect answers from his mother or the cluster of servants
huddled on the deck as if afraid to set foot on the island.

Nashruu lost her grip on Khyram as he darted down the
gangplank to gape at a man’s articulated leg. Before she could catch up, he’d
moved on to poke at a basket of spiky
huwewe
fruits. She
called after him, but the noise of the crowd swallowed her voice.

A cargo net swung over the wharf directly over Khyram’s
head. Kyam lurched toward him but the crowd held him back. He shoved people
aside.

“Khyram! Careful!” Nashruu yelled.

Khyram looked up, and then bolted out from under the net.
Still running, he looked back over his shoulder at his near miss. Kyam and
Nashruu shouted warnings as the boy raced toward the edge of the wharf.

Khyram came to a sudden halt as someone gripped his arm.
Startled, he stared up at the person who’d saved him from plunging into the
shark-infested harbor.

Kyam’s temper boiled. Why was QuiTai here?

Khyram shrank back from her.

She wouldn’t hurt a child, would she? Had she come here to
meet his wife? Did she plan to make a scene?

The corner of QuiTai’s mouth curved into a smile as she
looked down at the boy. She said something to Khyram that made him stop
squirming. He glanced at the water, then tugged on the hem of his jacket and
spoke to her.

Despite her narrow skirt, Nashruu edged around the cargo
net and through the men unloading it before Kyam thought to move. She hurried
over to QuiTai and Khyram.

His heart froze. They were talking. His wife and his… he
could hardly call QuiTai a former lover. She was his obsession. His enemy and
passion. His ticket off this island.

Fate had a nasty sense of humor, and he was the butt of
her joke.

“Excuse me.” Kyam scrambled around a black lotus seller
talking to the ship’s doctor.

QuiTai let go of Khyram. She bowed to Nashruu with her
palms pressed together. Whatever Nashruu said seemed to strike her as funny,
but her expression was polite enough.

Three sailors strolled down the center of wharf as slowly
as they could, boasting about their plans for the Quarter of Delights. No one
could get around them. Kyam shoved them out of his way and hurried to Nashruu’s
side to protect her.

QuiTai craned around as if she’d lost sight of someone.
The hairs at the nape of Kyam’s neck rose when her gaze fixed on a shadowy
warehouse doorway. He didn’t see anyone, but there was a subtle shift in her
face. She turned back to appraise Nashruu, as if suddenly finding her
interesting. Her gaze dropped to Khyram. Kyam’s heart caught in his throat. He
knew that expression. It was the most frightening look he’d ever seen, and he
knew it all too well. QuiTai was thinking.

Her gaze flicked up to him. Now her face was a mask. Did
she know? She couldn’t know. There was no way she could know from a glance.

QuiTai said something to Nashruu, inclined her head, and
stepped away. He would have followed her and demanded to know what she was
thinking, but the crowd closed behind her and he lost sight of her.

Nashruu turned and seemed surprised to see him. “There you
are.”

Kyam offered his arm as his spirits sank. This was real.
She was here, anchoring him to the island more firmly than before.

He had to talk to QuiTai. Today. It was probably too late
already. He’d waited too long. Again.

~ ~ ~

On her mother’s side, Nashruu Zul was third cousin twice
removed from her husband, Kyam. They were also first cousins on her father’s
side, at least on the family’s official scrolls. Her true sire had been
recruited for breeding, without his knowledge or consent, from the crew of a
Zul junk. The donor had not been chosen by her mother. Rather, her grandfather,
Theram Zul, had selected him because he possessed three prized qualities:
intelligence, excellent health, and no Zul blood.

From her unknown father, she’d inherited her enviable
nose, gracious nature, and hair that could not look bad under any circumstance.
Her height and elegant hands came from her mother. Grandfather Zul took credit
for honing her native intelligence through his unconventional tutoring, but
stopped short of claiming he’d taught her how to think. Her sense of humor was
entirely her own.

Nashruu hadn’t expected a warm welcome when she stepped
off the
Golden Barracuda
, but Kyam
barely seemed to notice her. He’d behaved atrociously to that native woman,
barking at her like that when all she’d done was save Khyram’s best suit from a
dunking. As they walked to the funny little shack on the beach to buy tickets
on the funicular, he glanced behind them several times, presumably to glare at
that woman.

“What did she say to you?” Kyam snapped.

For a moment, she thought about pretending she didn’t know
whom he meant, but until she knew him better, she didn’t dare provoke the Zul
temper. “She said, ‘Welcome to Levapur, Ma’am Zul.’ Her Thampurian was quite
good. I told her we had no need of staff right now, but to keep in touch. Oh, I
suppose I should have asked for her name.”

Kyam pinched his nose and coughed as if he’d swallowed one
of the tiny gnats hovering about. “What did she say to you, Khyram?”

She fretted that her son might let the strange land
distract him, but he seemed as wary of Kyam as she was. He answered as if he
were addressing Grandfather.

“I said her eyes were strange, Sir. She said she was
Ponongese and that I would see a great many people with eyes like hers. Then she
warned me to be more careful on the wharf.” Khyram’s thin chest puffed out. “I
reminded her that I’m a sea dragon, and I’m not afraid of falling into the
water. She pointed to a shark and said my parents would probably want to know
about them.”

Nashruu was glad to see Kyam relax.

“Is that all?” he said.

“Then Mother came over.”

More tension ebbed from his shoulders. “Very well. Uh, how
was the weather on your trip?” His gaze already rose over her head.

“It rained fish and the main sail caught fire,” she said.
He’d asked already. She saw no reason to answer truthfully if he wouldn’t
listen.

“Splendid.”

Her forlorn servants were gathered in the sparse shade of
a palm tree. Piles of luggage surrounded them. Khyram dug the toe of his boot
into the sugary sand. She despaired that everything would be left to her, but
Kyam finally stopped peering off into the distance and focused. He spoke to
native men lounging about by the station and arranged for them to carry the
luggage to the compound. She was now quite pleased with him.

“As soon as we’ve settled in, I’d like for you to arrange
an introduction to Lady QuiTai,” she said.

Kyam seemed to have swallowed yet another fly. “Lady
QuiTai?”

“Grandfather wants me to have tea with her.”

“Tea?” He didn’t seem to know if he wanted to laugh or
cringe.

“I’ve heard so much about her. I assume she already knows
I’m coming. She seems to have excellent sources of information.”

Kyam lost the battle with his control and laughed out
loud, though not unkindly. “She most assuredly knows you’re here. She’s the
woman who stopped Khyram from taking an unexpected swim.”

“Oh, the green sarong! I should have known.” Nashruu stood
on her tiptoes and peered back at the wharf. She felt stupid for not realizing to
whom she’d been talking. Somehow she’d expected the infamous QuiTai to be more
intimidating. Haughty. And much taller. Instead, QuiTai had been polite, even
though she’d clearly known who Nashruu was.

Her cheeks burned under her palms as she tried to hide her
shame. She’d actually told QuiTai she might hire her as a servant. Grandfather
would be furious. Had QuiTai been insulted? She’d seemed amused, but not angry.

“Do you see her?” she asked Kyam.

His eyes swept over the crowd. He tensed. The change on
his face frightened her. He looked too much like Grandfather.

She couldn’t tell where he was looking. She looked over
the sailors and dock workers but couldn’t see anything that would anger him.
Mityam Muul, a fellow passenger from the
Golden
Barracuda
, shuffled down the gangplank, but an elderly legal scholar wasn’t
anything to get upset about. Besides, she doubted Kyam knew the man. Her gaze
continued over the crowd.

She sucked in her breath.

Captain Voorus was standing behind a stack of crates at
the entrance of a warehouse. She hadn’t expected to see him yet. Why hadn’t she
seen him on the wharf?

He bent down as if listening intently to someone.

The crowd parted enough to show her a flash of virulent
green. Jealousy surged over her as Lady QuiTai placed a finger against Voorus’
lips. It was such an intimate gesture. He bent closer to her face. Were they
kissing?

Kyam’s jaw clenched as he, too, watched the couple.

QuiTai caressed Voorus’ cheek. He captured her hand in his
and pressed it to his heart. Nashruu gasped at the anguish on his face. He
tipped back his head and laughed, but she knew it could only be bittersweet.

She would have given anything to hear what they said. She
wasn’t prepared for this. Her corset strangled her as she fought for her
breath.

Khyram tugged on her hand. “Mama, what’s wrong?”

She forced a smile onto her face. Her hands shook as she
opened her little coin purse and drew out a perfumed lace square. “It’s the
heat, darling.” She waved the lace before her nose.

Voorus and QuiTai peered around the crates before emerging
from behind them. As they walked down the wharf, they made no effort to hide
that they were having a conversation, so why had they ducked behind the crates?

They stopped in front of Mityam Muul. For a moment, she
thought they’d parted so the elderly man could hobble by, but from her
gestures, QuiTai was introducing the men to each other. Then she gently took
his arm, and Voorus picked up Mityam’s valise. They headed toward the
funicular.

“What the hell is she doing with a man like that?” Kyam
growled.

Nashruu wasn’t sure if he meant Voorus or Mityam. She
wondered about both. Mister Muul had said nothing on the trip over about
working for the most notorious woman on the island. Their spies had never
mentioned that Voorus had taken a lover, much less QuiTai. They’d been too busy
trying to catch Kyam in her bed.

Grandfather would want to know about all of this.

Kyam
crushed the invitation
he’d been writing into a ball and tossed it in the
wastebasket under his desk. He reached for another thick card embellished with
the colonial government’s chop in gold leaf – another waste of money they
didn’t have. He dipped his brush into the ink tray and tried again to find the
words that would bring QuiTai to him. Something that wouldn’t arouse her
suspicions. Something polite.

He splashed a thick, angry line across his latest attempt.
Polite wasn’t coming easily for him.

He dropped the card into the trash with the others. The
brush clattered against the crystal ink tray as he set it down. He put his feet
up on his desk and leaned back to stare up at the delicate gold filigree in the
center of the ceiling, something he did for hours most days. He hadn’t changed
anything in the office since he’d become governor. The fussy, overstuffed furniture
reminded him of his mother’s salon, but he couldn’t be bothered to replace it. After
all, he didn’t intend to stay.

Last night, he’d received a communication from his old
masters in Intelligence. They wanted him to recruit QuiTai to work for Thampur.
A simple matter, they seemed to think. They had no idea what they were asking.

Unless he counted shouting at her earlier today, he hadn’t
spoken to her since the rice riot. Levapur was a small town, so it wasn’t as if
he could avoid her entirely, but he could nod curtly and move on. She didn’t
seem to care that she was being shunned, though, which made it pointless.

He tapped his bottom lip.

How was he supposed to convince her to become an agent for
Thampur? She hated the Thampurians. She’d never forgiven them for stealing her
people’s land or for the injustices heaped upon the Ponongese by the colonial
government. She only had one loyalty, and that was to the Devil.

Leaning forward again, he picked up the brush. It hovered
over the card.

Convincing her to work for Thampur would be simple
compared to writing this invitation. The first meeting with her would not go
well. She’d smile coldly at him. She’d give him that look. He might as well get
the humiliation over with, but how? Nearly a year of silence made it awkward.

Except for the dwindling stack of invitations and the
inkwell, Kyam’s wide desk was clear. He’d stashed his reports in the cabinets
behind his desk, but if she came now, it would look as if he didn’t do anything
all day. She didn’t need to know that he was idle.

He spun around and opened the drawer under the map of the
Thampurian Empire. Surely something would be safe enough to leave out. He put
the dullest report he could find on his desk.

He spread the papers around artfully.

I’m using props, he thought with disgust. QuiTai would
mock him for that, because she could always tell. He shoved the papers away.