Breaking Ice (The Jendari Book 2) Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Delwyn Jenkins

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-431-2

  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.

  BREAKING ICE

  The Jendari, 2

  Delwyn Jenkins

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Kasim Ta’nehr crossed the empty foyer of Hope Tower and used his security pass to exit through a small side door. It was two o’clock in the morning and the New York traffic still droned without pause. And, despite the fact it was early fall, not one wisp of freshness marred the air.

  Doing his best to block out the sounds and smells, Kasim walked through the gardens surrounding the tower. He’d told his human colleague he was doing an external sweep, but the truth was he couldn’t bear to be inside one more minute.

  Kasim was born on Jendar, a planet galaxies away from this one. He grew up on a vast, pristine expanse of ice and snow where only the hardiest creatures survived. His preferred habitat was quiet, solitary, and white—the very opposite of New York City, where he was currently serving his penance.

  When his people had boarded their ships and fled into space, their only concern was the survival of their species. The Jendari had fought long and hard to defend their world from a voracious and numerically superior enemy. When it became clear their fight was doomed, a desperate plan was hatched by the Elder Council. Four ships were prepared, each one carrying the seeds to create a new Jendar. The retrofitted green houses were filled with Jendari plant life, and storage banks housed genetic material from all kinds of birds and animals. But the most important cargo the seed ships carried were the men, women, and children who volunteered to brave the unknown. Representatives from every clan and every walk of life boarded the ships—young, old, skilled, and unskilled. From politicians to farmers, every strata of Jendari culture was represented.

  Including the members of the rhe’hashan, the warrior class to which Kasim proudly belonged. The rhe’hashan were the Swords of the Goddess, bound to defend and protect the clans at all costs. Kasim had fought many battles on Jendar, and he liked to think he’d saved many lives. He’d put himself in harm’s way without a second thought not, only because it was his job, but because he was good at it. And defending those who could not defend themselves satisfied a deep need in him. In all his years as a rhe’hashan, he had never found that duty onerous.

  But then his people came here, to Earth. Battle-damaged and barely maintaining life support, the seed ship had limped into this star system with nowhere else to go. Rather than fulfilling their mission to find an uninhabited planet, they were forced to seek asylum on a world that was already bursting at the seams.

  And then, much to Kasim’s disappointment, the Jendari Elders decided to build their US headquarters in one of the most densely populated cities in the country. Hope Tower was an elegant spiral of sparkling glass, piercing the skyline with its cool beauty. To Kasim’s eye, it was a triumph of art, form, and function. Unfortunately, it had to complete for space and attention with every other towering building in the city.

  New York. Where everyone was in a hurry and the city never, ever slept. Where buildings crowded the sky and the horizon was a distant memory. And the streets were so crowded his skin itched every minute of the day.

  All rhe’hashan had to take their turn working as security at the tower. A twelve-month rotation that took them out of the Jendari settlement, situated in a glorious expanse of national parkland in Washington State. The territory claimed by New Havilah was big enough that he could get away from everyone and everything. And it would be another nine months before he could go back there to live.

  So, he did his duty, tried not to complain too often, and counted down the days.

  He also volunteered for night shift as often as he could. Though the small hours were still busy, they were a huge improvement on the manic hustle of a human working day in an over-crowded city.

  Prowling through the gardens, Kasim made his way around to the back of the building and headed for a bench almost hidden under the boughs of a large tree. Shrugging off his suit jacket, he unknotted his tie and released the top two buttons of his shirt. He’d spent his entire adult life wearing battle-leathers, and the restriction of human business wear chaffed him—body and soul. Not to mention the fact that his shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it made his scalp ache.

  Scrubbing at his face, Kasim consoled himself with the fact the Elders had let him keep his close-trimmed beard. Small mercies, indeed.

  As a rhe’hashan, Kasim had a second form, and his lepardine half didn’t like the city any more than the Jendari side did. The feline in him was desperate to run, to feel the cold, sharp air of the ice plains ruffle through his fur. Both man and beast yearned for space, but the man was more sanguine than the cat. Which was to say, not sanguine at all.

  Leaning back against the tree trunk, Kasim closed his eyes and tipped his face to the starless sky. He did this most nights, stealing a few minutes of solitude for himself in the midst of a city seething with humanity.

  He registered an odd noise a split second before a sharp object pierced his thigh. Jerking into an upright position, he flinched when another dart hit his shoulder.

  Lurching from the seat, Kasim crouched to defend himself, but his legs wouldn’t hold his weight. A third dart came fast on the heels of the second, and he fell forward onto the grass, his arms too useless to break his fall.

  The poison raged through him, paralyzing his body and cutting his senses dead. He fought the lethargy, but it was a battle he was doomed to lose. Less than a minute after the first dart pierced his skin, he was pulled into the darkness.

  ****

  Kasim was slow to wake. He kept his eyes closed and his body still, waiting for the sedative to wear off. His environment registered in fragments as his brain tried to piece everything together. He was lying on a hard bed, bound to the surface by wide straps. Kasim forced his mind to skate over that detail—he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now. Already his heart was racing and a cold sweat coated his body. The feel of the restraints took him back to the worst day of his life, and the sensation of helplessness began to swell inside him.

  Desperate to avert the impending tremors, Kasim opened his eyes. Blinking against the harsh light, gasping for air, he held himself together until his brain registered the here and now. He was in a large white room, sterile and with the kind of accoutrements he associated with an infirmary. A lab of some sort, perhaps. “Not a cave,” he whispered to himself in Jendari. Not a cave. Not a cave.

  Allowing his head to fall back to the table, Kasim breathed deep, forcing his heart to slow into a steady rhythm.

  He wasn’t a boy anymore, he was an adult male. A fully trained rhe’hashan perfectly capable of dealing with scientists and leather restraints. All he had to do was keep his focus on the present—because if his past got a grip on him now he’d be utterly useless.

  So he focused on one thing at a time. The details of the room, possible exits, potential weapons. He looked at the wide leather straps pinning him to the table and tried to assess their tensile stren
gth and the positioning of each buckle. He was wearing trousers of some kind, the fabric coarse against his skin. A light sheet covered his body, overlaying the restraints that held him. His feet were bare, which would be problematic when he made his escape.

  He went through the process twice, going over every detail, making sure he hadn’t missed anything the first time around. When he was done, he closed his eyes and debated his next step. To mentally call for help or not?

  Every Jendari warrior had a me’hendra, a feline companion who was more than a friend or battle partner. They were kindred in a way that made them family, despite being a different species. They were fierce and clever, sometimes annoying, and loyal to a fault. Kasim knew if he called to his me’hendra, Shallamar would come running with all the reinforcements she could muster.

  But if she did that, Kasim would never know who it was that had captured him or what they hoped to achieve. If the people who took him wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be tied down on a table. So, they were after something. But what? Forcing himself to remain calm, Kasim assessed the situation like the warrior he was. If he could keep his shit together, he might gather some important intel. It appeared the Jendari had an enemy bold enough to take a rhe’hashan, and the more information Kasim could find out about them, the better.

  He could speak to Shallamar mind-to-mind across any distance, at any time. So for now, he decided to wait. Shielding his mind, he blocked the connection to his me’hendra for the time being.

  ****

  Hours passed before the door clicked open and two white-coated men walked in. Kasim turned his head, assessing the newcomers with a warrior’s gaze. “I hope your affairs are in order,” he said, his voice husky from lack of use. “Because when the Jendari are done with you, nothing will remain but a pile of ashes.”

  The short, heavy-set man nodded his head. “We’ve had first-hand experience with your soldiers. They came into one of our facilities and killed twelve good men.”

  Kasim kept his face expressionless. “Those men were party to a kidnapping, and they were guarding their prize with weapons drawn.” He didn’t mention that he was a member of that rescue party, nor did he elaborate on the importance of the woman the humans held hostage. Jasmine had bonded with Tallis, a fellow rhe’hashan and one of Kasim’s closest friends. Tallis would have done anything to save Jaz and, in Kasim’s opinion, the humans were lucky they only lost twelve people.

  The other white coat moved forward. He was older, thinner, and there was a soullessness to his eyes that Kasim didn’t like. “I’m Doctor Metcalfe. Doctor Ferrera and I will be your exclusive point of contact from now on.”

  Kasim raised an eyebrow. “No guards?”

  “Of course there are guards,” Ferrera said. “We have no intention of underestimating your skill or your abilities as a soldier. But you will not be permitted to converse with anyone but the two of us, for now at least.”

  Kasim understood the subtext. The doctors would poke, prod, cut, syphon, and experiment. And when they were done, Kasim would be handed over to someone who understood the true meaning of interrogation. Which meant he had to tread a fine line—playing their game long enough to find out their agenda, but not so long that he was too weak to escape.

  Kasim wasn’t arrogant, but he was confident in his skills as a warrior. The rhe’hashan were well-trained, and he had faith in his ability to survive the white-coats. He’d give himself a day or two to find out what the humans were after, then he’d make his break. And if he couldn’t get away on his own, he could always call on Shallamar for help.

  Kasim watched as Metcalfe turned, walking over to a bank of drawers and pulling out several vials and a syringe. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  Kasim shored up his defenses and bared his teeth. “Let’s.”

  ****

  Over the next few days, Kasim discovered the white-coats had bigger plans than he’d first supposed. Not only did they take blood and tissue samples, but they also experimented on him, trialing different drugs to make him docile and manageable.

  They would dose him up and allow him to stagger into the bathroom where he used the facilities under the watchful gaze of three armed guards. Then they would strap him down and wait for the sedatives to wear off before recommencing their experiments.

  As soon as they had the right combination of drugs to keep him under control, their tests became more physical. They sweated him to unconsciousness in a steam room, and they froze him into a stupor in an ice bath. They assessed his tolerance for pain with a clinical detachment that scared the hell out of him.

  And through it all, he’d learned nothing useful from them. Nor had he seen an opportunity for escape. He was physically exhausted, mentally frayed, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep his lepardine half at bay. If he lost control and phased into his feline form in front of the humans, no Jendari on Earth would be safe from the fallout.

  As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was losing the battle. He’d put himself through days of misery and pain and had nothing to show for it except two names—which probably weren’t even real.

  So on the third night, tied down in the dark, he conceded defeat and called for his me’hendra. In a habit as easy as breathing, he reached for their link. Shallamar.

  He waited a beat, then called again. Shallamar?

  Nothing. He could feel his side of the link, but there was nothing but emptiness in the part of his mind that Shallamar occupied. She always answered when he called. Always.

  Kasim’s pulse picked up speed and he broke into a nervous sweat. Shallamar was his one constant, the only being he could count on in every way that mattered. She’d found him when he was a broken, terrified boy of fourteen. And she’d been by his side ever since.

  Now his arrogance and stupidity had cut him off from the one soul who kept his emotions anchored.

  When Kasim realized just how alone and vulnerable he truly was, he started to shake. The tremors flooded his body, filling every cell with the need to fight. His heart beat loud in his chest, the erratic rhythm thundering through him until it was all he could hear. Suddenly, he was back in his fourteen-year-old body, back in that dank cave. Restrained, brutalized, and terrified. Certain he would die. Even more frightened he would live.

  He didn’t know when he started screaming, but when he felt the prick of a needle in his arm, he flung himself into the chemical oblivion with the speed of a coward. A part of him hoped he’d never come out.

  Chapter Two

  Winter Nayar gave herself one final check in the mirror before she left her apartment. Her dark hair and brown eyes—courtesy of her French-Algerian father—were currently hidden under a blonde wig and blue contact lenses. She’d vamped up her preferred smart-casual style, wearing heeled boots instead of flats and releasing one too many buttons on her form-fitting shirt.

  She’d taken on many roles in her job as an investigative journalist, but none had ever been as important as this one. None had ever been so personal.

  The Humans for Earth Coalition, or their lackeys, had kidnapped Winter’s best friend. And they’d done it to trap Jasmine’s Jendari boyfriend. Tallis and his friends had mounted a rescue and brought Jaz home unharmed, but the whole incident had left a bad taste in Winter’s mouth.

  Using an innocent woman that way offended her sense of justice, but scaring the hell out of her best friend created a need for retribution that wouldn’t be denied. She was determined the HEC would pay for what they did, in the most public, embarrassing way possible.

  The Humans for Earth Coalition had been formed from the many—and vocal—pro-human groups that had formed since the Jendari’s arrival two years ago. When the aliens first landed, they’d turned the entire world upside-down. Everything the human race knew to be true was up for grabs, and the first few months were tough for everybody.

  But as time progressed, most people started to settle. They went about their business, spent time with their families, continue
d their hobbies and interests—just like always. The Jendari kept to themselves on protected settlements all over the globe, and the lack of daily interaction made it easier for most people to just continue on.

  Of course, that didn’t include the fringe elements. There were noisy minorities both for and against alien settlement. The frequency of public demonstrations from both groups had died down, but they still hit the news from time to time. The pro-alien camps were the same disorganized mishmash they’d been when the Jendari had first arrived. But the pro-human groups had been melded into a large, professional, high-profile organization that had gained a great deal of credibility. The spokesman for HEC was a former Marine who was smart enough to field any question thrown at him, and down-home enough that he could be anyone’s next door neighbor.

  The membership of HEC was vast, covering everyone from senators and movies stars to truck drivers and janitors. Regardless of their diverse makeup, the members of the HEC had one thing in common. They wanted the Jendari gone—not just from the US, but from the entire planet. They were convinced the aliens had an agenda that would result in the decimation of the human race. And, Winter had to admit, some of their concerns seemed to have merit.

  The Jendari had been here for almost two years, yet they’d made no effort to integrate or develop deeper ties to humanity. Hope Tower was the only place the two races mixed, and that was under tightly controlled conditions. If Winter hadn’t been friends with Jaz, if she hadn’t met Tallis herself, she might have been swayed by HEC’s propaganda. Of course, the whole kidnapping thing had squashed any empathy she may have felt for the anti-alien point of view.

  So, in pursuit of her story, Winter had spent weeks knee-deep in research. She’d gone to rallies, talked the talk, joined chat rooms and forums—all under the assumed name of Wendy Cartwright. But it wasn’t until she attracted the attention of Ben Greavy that things started looking up. Ben was intelligent, well-educated, and very firmly ensconced in the middle management of HEC. He was exactly what she’d been looking for—high enough in the organization to have access to information, but not so high up that he was a public figure.