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

by Jill Braden

  Now she’d ask what he’d been busy with and make sharp comments about how little he’d accomplished.

  Except that she didn’t.

  “Two bodies found mutilated in alleyways in the past week. Both alleged smugglers. Does that sound familiar?” she asked.

  Now he remembered Voorus telling him about the grisly findings. “Oh. Those. I didn’t suspect you… much. I’m sure the Devil–”

  “You shouldn’t blame me at all. They were my people.” Her anger cracked, and pain shone through it so acutely that his breath caught.

  The criminal network in Levapur existed outside the Thampurian sphere. Kyam had no idea what happened in the alleyways of the Quarter of Delights. She shouldn’t expect him to know.

  She composed herself. “Are you going to see to it that these murders are properly investigated?”

  Here was another potential bargaining tile. He could offer to investigate the deaths in exchange for her help. It seemed to be something that mattered to her. Maybe this was her real reason for coming today.

  He decided to be frank. “I have limited powers here. I’m up against every government clerk in this building. They make glaciers look fast. They demand obscure forms that can never be found. They get offended if I ask them to do anything, but I can’t fire them. Besides, I can’t create a police force out of thin air. We don’t have the money. Turyat drained the treasury. I don’t even have enough to remit taxes to Thampur.”

  There it was at last, the wicked little smile that haunted his dreams. She was laughing at him, but he thought it was with some fondness. What a relief that she didn’t seem to hate him.

  “Does the Colonial Government need a loan?” she asked.

  He laughed.

  “You won’t like my terms, but if you’re desperate enough, let me know.”

  He was desperate, but not for coins. He kept his tone light. She liked banter. He’d give it to her. “What are your terms?”

  She gave him an appraising look. “Repealing the assembly act is out of the question?”

  “Yes.” Not really, but negotiations always began this way.

  “What would it take to convince the colonial government to go through the pretense of giving a damn and investigate the murder of my lieutenants?” She rose and walked across his office to open the typhoon shutters. Indicating the marketplace below with a sweeping motion of her arm, she said, “Show them that you’re the governor of everyone on this island, not only the Thampurians. Show them that justice is for everyone.”

  “I can’t–”

  “Don’t be such a coward. Anger your own people. Make enemies. Prompt them to write outraged letters to the papers back in Thampur and denounce you to the King. After all, when the war comes, you don’t want my people to side with the Ravidians against Thampur.”

  Kyam jumped to his feet. His hands clenched into fists. He pressed them against the desk and leaned on them. “You wouldn’t dare. The Ravidians would enslave you.”

  “The Ravidians swear that putting the Rhi in chains was Turyat and Cuulon’s idea, not theirs. And after the Ravidians were gone, the Thampurians tried to keep my people in slavery, so don’t preach to me about Thampur’s moral superiority.”

  He took deep breaths and slowly sank back into his chair. Too much was at stake. He couldn’t afford to lose control. He swore she made him angry on purpose.

  After several false starts, he was able to speak calmly. “How do you know what the Ravidians said?”

  She sauntered back to her chair and sat down. “I asked them.”

  “The Ravidians?” She was not to be believed. He couldn’t even begin to make sense of her thinking. The Ravidians were pure evil. You didn’t talk to Ravidians, you killed them.

  “When you want to know a person’s version of the story, you ask them, not their mortal enemies. A most enlightening conversation.” She looked pleased with herself.

  He wasn’t sure he could speak without sputtering. “You’re committing treason by even thinking of talking to them.”

  She shook her head. “As I told you long ago, they’re your enemies, not mine.”

  “But you’re a Thampurian citizen.”

  “I’m a Thampurian subject, not a citizen.”

  Knowing he’d regret it, he waved a hand dismissively. “Same thing.”

  “You can gather with friends in the marketplace without the militia beating you. I can’t.”

  “You have friends?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she let it pass. “Tomorrow, Thampurians will celebrate a very minor festival with feasts and balls. My people have been warned that if we gather at our ancestors’ altars for the Day of the Spirits, our most holy day, we might be arrested. I could go on, but I can see that you’ve already stopped listening. You think that you’re a good man, and none of this is your doing – but it is, because you won’t stop it.”

  He hated how uncomfortable she made him.

  She growled in frustration. “Your face shrinks against your skull as you try to hide from the truth. Your eyes can roll back in your head so that you no longer have to see. You can hold your breath so you don’t have to smell your corrupted soul. But your ears can’t stop you from hearing this: I am not a Thampurian citizen. I’m a native of an occupied land. To call me a citizen is to insult my intelligence.”

  “Spare me your political lectures.” His temper was almost beyond his control.

  “Are you going to seek justice for my murdered lieutenants?”

  He struggled to calm down. She was right, he shouldn’t let murders go unsolved, no matter who the victims were. But at present he was tired of being the hero and getting nothing for it.

  Abruptly, he recalled the events of the morning, and his anger dissolved into meanness. “Why don’t you talk your Captain Voorus into investigating the murders?” he asked.

  So that’s what she looked like when taken by surprise. She blinked rapidly and seemed confused. “Captain Voorus?”

  “The two of you were behind the crates at the warehouse. You reached up to touch his lips. He bent down–” He swallowed the lump in his throat. The jealousy was as raw as it had been this morning.

  She laughed derisively. It was like a knife twisting in his gut. “He’s not smart enough for me.”

  That had been his first reaction when he’d seen them together. He’d almost convinced himself he’d misunderstood what he’d seen, but then she ruined it by adding, “Not that I’m looking for conversation in bed, as you may remember.” Her gaze dropped to his waist as she smirked.

  It wasn’t fair that her cruelest smile could make him clear his throat and cross his legs. He remembered, all right. Every delicious moment.

  He glanced at the folder on his desk and thought about dragging it into his lap. He was supposed to have better control over his body at this age.

  If she’d been Li instead of Ponongese, she would have purred. She certainly looked content. “Captain Voorus has such a strong body. A lot like yours. Almost exactly like yours. Not surprising, since you have the same father.”

  Was she guessing? Even he hadn’t known Voorus was his half-brother until recently.

  She didn’t seem so amused now. If he felt mean, she must have felt vicious. It showed in her eyes. “That’s only one of the Zul clan’s dirty little secrets I stopped him from spilling at the wharf, where spies might overhear. Would you like to know the others?”

  He remembered the long look she’d given his wife, Nashruu, and her son. The gears had been spinning in QuiTai’s mind, he’d seen it. How much did she know? Was she bluffing?

  She flicked her hand and looked around his office. “This bores me. Are you going to investigate the murders, Governor Zul?”

  One of the Devil’s sidelines was blackmail. Was she hinting that she’d spill the Zul clan’s secrets unless he investigated the deaths of her lieutenants? There was only one way to find out.

  The game excited him more than it should have. “No, I won’t.”
>
  “Very well, then. I suppose I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. I gave you a chance, Governor. Remember that.”

  Kyam rested his forehead against his hand. This was not the conversation he had wanted to have with her. She didn’t use threats unless she had to, but what exactly had she warned him about? As usual, when she was around, his head was swimming. “What do you have planned?”

  “Something impossible.” She sounded annoyed. He knew for certain she was when she bowed her head and ran her palms over her sarong, smoothing the bulky fabric as if the task required her complete attention. She lifted her head. “Governor Zul, I very much regret to inform you that you must arrest me and take me to the fortress.”

  He peered at her through his fingers as he tried to decide if she were joking. “For what? What have you done?”

  “Me? Nothing.” She looked so innocent. He didn’t believe it for a second. “This time,” she conceded.

  “I’m sure it makes perfect sense to you, but why do you want me to arrest you?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “No, I’m fairly sure that I want to hear a reason.”

  “No, you don’t, Kyam. You never do.”

  He was about to argue with her, but he realized there were so many crimes she was suspected of, including several disappearances he believed she’d arranged, yet he’d never investigated because he couldn’t bear to put her at Cuulon’s mercy. He justified everything she did as necessary. She was right – he didn’t want to know.

  Kyam spread his hands. “Let’s say you’re right, and it’s none of my business why you want to be taken to the fortress. Why would I arrest you? I need a reason.”

  “I’m Ponongese. That’s good enough for the militia.”

  He would not take that bait. He wanted to reach an agreement with her, not fight.

  “Assuming that’s true – not that I agree with you – I hope you realize that once you’re in the fortress, I can’t protect you. You escaped once. You can’t possibly hope to leap from the ramparts a second time. And as you are well aware, you’re the only Ponongese who has ever left the fortress alive. Why would you risk it again? The odds are not in your favor.”

  Her eyebrow rose at his pleading tone.

  He couldn’t decide what to do. The neat plans of the morning had gone to hell already. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her die, at least not until he’d used her to escape Ponong.

  He walked around his desk. “If I do as you ask, I want something from you in return.”

  “A deal?” Her mouth curved into a smile as she sat back. “What do you want?”

  “Agree to work for Thampur.”

  Her face became a mask. He knew her better than almost anyone, and even he couldn’t tell if she were outraged or amused… or even surprised.

  “If it’s not too crass to ask, what do you get for delivering me to your old masters?”

  There was no hate or malice in her eyes. He decided to be honest. “I get to leave this island.”

  “Ah.” Whatever she was thinking, it took all her concentration. She tugged on her bottom lip as she scowled at the floor. The wrinkles across her forehead eased as her eyebrows suddenly shot up. “May I make a counter offer?”

  “You can try, but I don’t think I’ll change my mind. You know I’ve been trying to escape from Levapur since the moment I arrived.”

  “I can give you what you’ve been searching for since the rice riot. The Devil’s name.”

  She knew him too well. That was the only temptation she could dangle before him that was almost as enticing as his freedom. He’d always thought if he could capture the Devil, she’d be free.

  “I always wondered why you protect his identity when as far as I can see, he’s never done anything for you. I know you’re going to hate me for this, but between Jezereet and the Devil, you’ve had terrible taste in lovers.”

  “Don’t you dare speak ill of Jezereet, Kyam. Ever.”

  He’d never seen such blazing anger in her eyes, but he wouldn’t back down or apologize. “They treated you so badly, and you excused it away.”

  “Is asking me to bow down to Thampur for your sake any better?”

  He wasn’t betraying her, he was giving her a choice. That wasn’t the same at all. Jezereet and the Devil used her. “You always say such heartless things.”

  “It only stings because you know it’s true. Don’t think for a minute you’re such a paragon of virtue. Jezereet’s corpse was still warm when you insisted I help you find the Ravidian’s bioweapons farm. Even now, you dare tell me not to mourn her death.”

  From the moment they’d first met, they’d been able to find each other’s weak spots.

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t mourn her. I’m saying that she didn’t…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He shouldn’t have brought it up. They would always have different ideas about Jezereet.

  She mastered her anger. “If I survive the fortress, you have my solemn word that I will give you the name of the Devil. No tricks. No games. No sleight of hand.”

  “You’re assuming I care about him.”

  QuiTai prepared to leave. “You don’t have to choose now. Arrest me, take me to the fortress. We’ll work out the details later.”

  She acted as if they had a deal, but he didn’t understand any of it. “You want to leave the fortress at some point, don’t you?”

  “Of course. You can come get me before the sun sets. I expect that will be enough time.”

  She was the most maddening person ever to walk on the face of the planet. “Time for what? What exactly am I agreeing to?”

  She patted his cheek. “In exchange for getting me in and out of the fortress, I will give you the name of the Devil– Calm down and listen to my full offer before you go off on one of your rants.”

  It was nearly impossible, but he held his tongue.

  “Thank you. As I said, I will give you the name of the Devil, or I will agree to work for Thampurian intelligence for the term of one year. Is that an acceptable deal?”

  There had to be a catch. Was it going to be this easy? Hope was a cruel mistress, and he knew better than to trust it. But this might be his only chance, and she always kept her word.

  He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. She gave him a fleeting smile. Then her fingertips were trailing across his palm as she withdrew her hand from his.

  “I know you’re manipulating me. I only wish I knew what’s really going on,” he said.

  “You’ll figure it out, eventually. You always do.” She paused at the door. “I’m ready if you are. Shall we go to the fortress?”

  “Right now? Don’t you have to get your affairs in order?” He didn’t know why he wanted to talk her out of her plan – whatever it was. This was good for him. He’d get to leave Ponong. Why did he want to stop her?

  “You know me, Kyam. I came prepared.” She gestured for him to come along. “It’s nearly midday already. I can’t afford to waste a moment from now on.”

  Chapter 3: The Marketplace

  “Pui, Mister?”

  Ponongese boys surrounded Kyam and QuiTai as the government building’s brass doors clanged shut behind them. Hands pushed too close to Kyam’s face.

  “Pui?”

  “I’ll carry anything for pui, Mister, no matter how heavy.”

  “Pui, please, Mister.”

  Their hands quickly dropped as he shook his head. They scattered, returning to sit on the steps. He stepped carefully over their pitifully thin legs. Most boys that age didn’t wear blouses like their fathers. Their spines showed each bone, while their distended bellies bowed over their threadbare sarongs.

  They used to carry packages for Thampurians, but few were hired anymore. No Thampurian would ever admit it, but they didn’t want the boys to know where they lived.

  “You have to be so careful nowadays,” everyone said. At dinner parties, the guests nodded sagely. If one of t
he ladies confided that she’d felt uncomfortable around a servant, compassionate friends said, “But what can we do? Are we to cook our own meals, too? Our lower castes here are spoiled. We never should have allowed them to leave service.” And the women whose parents had come freely to Levapur as servants but now owned shops stared at the tightly clutched hands in their laps as anger and shame in equal parts glowed on their cheeks.

  In their dark-paneled bars, men swished their walking sticks about furiously and swore to “show them a thing or two.” And what they had to be shown, of course, was their place. They had to be kept there by force. What was needed now were harsher measures, so Thampurians might sleep at night when the sounds of the jungle made them pull the covers up to their chins.

  A year ago, Kyam wouldn’t have thought twice about the teen boys loitering at the fringes of the marketplace. He might have even nodded to a few of the lads he knew by name. But ever since his grandfather had pushed the Ponongese dangerously close to the point of rebellion, he worried when the boys laughed, and moved his hand to his baton when they fell silent.

  QuiTai surveyed the marketplace from the top step as if awaiting her audience’s attention. She stretched the fingers of both hands into painful poses like a temple dancer with golden fingertips. He went down the steps, and then realized she still hadn’t moved. He extended an impatient hand to her. She was the one who’d said she was in a hurry. She finally deigned to take it.

  He would have gone around the edge of the marketplace to the funicular station, but she plunged ahead of him into the midst of the most chaotic section. He ducked beneath red and orange festival flags slung between leaning poles and swatted banners out of his way to keep her in sight. The aisle meandered like an ill-planned labyrinth. Noisemakers blared too close to his ears.

  Sellers didn’t call out to QuiTai as she glided past their stalls. What use would a Ponongese have for costume fangs, a wig of wooly hair, or lenses to give her eyes a reptilian shape? But they held out to him cheap sarongs in colors too somber for any real Ponongese. When he’d been an itinerant artist, he’d shoved the costumes away; but now that he was governor, he had to be more polite about it and not rant about how much he hated this ridiculous festival.