Dragon's Temptation: A SciFi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 15)

  DRAGON’S TEMPTATION

  RED PLANET DRAGONS OF TAJSS BOOK FIFTEEN

  MIRANDA MARTIN

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 Miranda Martin

  All rights reserved.

  1

  ASHLEE

  Walking into the lab my shoulders slump and my feet start to drag. I sigh and trudge my way over to my station, flopping heavily onto the raised stool. Pushing some slides around on the workstation, I try to push past the mind-numbing monotony.

  It isn’t that I hate the place, exactly. Being productive is good. I like the people, and some of the work is interesting. But every time I step inside the lab my chest tightens, my heart thumps, and the weight on my shoulders returns.

  Starting the moment I open my eyes, the realization that today, like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that I’ll go to the lab hits me. It continues through breakfast—which I linger over as long as I can, trying to push away the inevitable moment.

  My morning walk through the city seems longer each day as every step takes me closer to another day of doing the same damn thing I did the day before, with only the slightest changes. I thought science would be… exciting. The thrill of discovery, pushing on the boundaries of the unknown. In the old vids, on the ship, it was always thrilling. What I wouldn’t give to have something exciting happen now!

  It isn’t hate. It’s less intense than that… more a gradual wearing away of myself. All right, that sounds almost more depressing than hate.

  “Good morning, Ashlee,” Errol says without looking up from the workstation in front of him.

  “Hey,” I respond, shifting on my hard stool.

  Maybe I should bring in a cushion, my butt is going numb already. Errol doesn’t seem to mind the hard stools in there. There isn’t the slightest sign of discomfort in the way he sits. Of course, with the Zmaj being so dragon-like and replete with tails and wings, I don’t think he could sit in anything resembling a “normal” chair. Normal for a human anyway. Everything on Tajss is harsh, even the furniture.

  “Ugh,” I grunt.

  Errol is the resident “mad dragon scientist” visiting from the Tribe once again. The Tribe is another group of Zmaj dragon-warriors that live in a cave system a ways off from the City. Fortunately the Zmaj have managed to get along, mostly, which goes against their natural instincts.

  Errol is hard at work again, which is way more often than I would’ve expected considering he doesn’t live here. Nothing can stop the guy. His dedication is downright impressive. He clearly doesn’t have the mixed feelings I have coming in here. At least it doesn’t seem like it.

  Realizing I’m stalling—again—I tear my eyes from Errol and look at the piece of meteorite glass on the bench in front of me. This one’s from the batch that was collected after the light show in the sky. Errol and Addison thought maybe the meteorites from after the colored streams of light in the sky might produce a different kind of glass when they hit the sand and melted it.

  That prediction turned out to be true.

  Problem is, there’s still no clear indication pointing to exactly how we could utilize that difference. Nothing in the lab can measure its frequency, though one of the lights in the Invaders’ ship had a reaction when Errol ran initial tests on the material.

  Perfect.

  Now all we need to do is ask one of those sweet Invaders who are always attacking our settlements what that changing light could mean. I’ll get right on that. Staring at the sparkling glass, I try to fight sluggishness that settles on me every time I enter the lab. I’m bored. So, so bored. I want to throw things, stomp my feet, and yell until it all goes away. Like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. Great, exactly how I want to be thought of.

  “Ashlee?”

  My name pulls me out of the black spiral of despair. Sarah is standing next to my station, smiling. Sarah was Rosalind’s right-hand gal, before she hooked up with Drosdan. Now she lives with him over at the Tribe’s Caves. What is she doing here?

  “Yes?” I ask, standing with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

  The hair on back of my neck stands on end and my stomach roils. It’s got to be another attack by the Invaders; something’s happened. Why else would she be here?

  “No, nothing like that,” she says, waving away my concerns. “Rosalind wants to speak with you, if you have time.”

  Oh. I don’t even have to think about it.

  “Sure, when?”

  “Now, if you can,” she says, looking around.

  There’s no stopping the smile on my face.

  “Sure!” I say, failing to keep the enthusiasm out of my voice.

  I’ve secretly been hoping I’ll be posted somewhere—anywhere—else, for quite a while. Science was never anything I thought I would pursue with any kind of seriousness. It’s fascinating, but I kind of ...fell into it when I got here. A basic understanding and mild aptitude were all it took for me to be assigned to work in the lab. Realistically, I would say my interest has always been more at a hobby level.

  Actually practicing it... yeah, not really my jam.

  It’s damn near mind-numbing designing and running the same experiment over and over again with only minor tweaks between each iteration of it. Carefully noting each variable, each slightest change, all under Addison and Errol’s watchful, ever-present eyes.

  I know the reason for it, know why experimentation has to be so methodical, why results have to be repeatable under the exact same conditions. I know all that, can appreciate the logic behind it, and the fact that emotions don’t enter the equation at all.

  But that doesn’t mean I like doing the same damn thing day in and day out. Even it is for the greater good. For our greater good.

  Even Addison, one of the most dedicated people I know, looks like she’s ready to move past the meteor glass and back onto the writs. I can’t blame her either. Deciphering that language we found in the City seems like a much more stimulating endeavor than continuing to stare at this glass.

  Besides, why do we have to assume everything on Tajss has some hidden frequency that the Zmaj can harness as a resource? Once they figured out the regular meteor glass can be used to power the old technology, it’s like we’ve decided that the sky will continue to rain miracles down on a regular basis!

  It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but we all seem to go along with it. Including me, I guess.

  “What brings you to the city?” I ask Sarah, pulling my thoughts out of the downward spiral.

  The weight lifts from my shoulders the moment we step out of the lab doors.

  “I was checking in with Rosalind on my way back from the mining settlement,” she explains. “I’ll head back to the caves right after this. Drosdan is waiting for me so we can head out.”

  I’m sure he is. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed with all the Zmaj-human matings, it’s that the Zmaj are both protective and possessive of their mates.
They don’t like to spend time away from them, which none of the women seem to mind. In fact, they seem to have a glow to them, which is nice to see.

  “How’s the mining settlement?” I ask.

  She frowns, shaking her head.

  “Same,” she says, resignation in her voice.

  That settlement happened before my time here in the City. Apparently there was some douchebag named Gershom who led a Zmaj hate campaign that a lot of the humans fell in with. No one talks about it much, at least in the City, but what I gather is he was a grade-A tool. Dead now, but the remnants of his followers live in a settlement southeast of the City.

  “They still hating on the Zmaj?” I ask.

  “Not so much hating. They’re scared,” she sighs, motioning futilely with her hands. “I don’t know what it will take to get them over it.”

  “Fear is a powerful emotion,” I agree.

  “Yeah, no matter how many times the Zmaj have saved them, brought them supplies, everything really, they’re still frightened. They don’t show it, not as much as they did, but it’s there.”

  “Maybe in time they’ll get over it,” I force a smile.

  Sarah nods. The corners of her lips strain up but her eyes narrow and twitch and a vein on her forehead throbs, giving away the lie. What else can we do? Some people need to accept reality. We’re on Tajss, our home. The generation ship we were all supposed to live and die on crashed. It’s over, face reality, kids. This is it. Kind of like my having to go to work every day in a lab. It’s not the life I dreamed of, ever.

  “City is looking better,” she says, clearly changing the subject.

  “Yeah, Rosalind has several crews doing nothing but cleanup,” I say.

  “That’s been going on for a while. Lot of work,” she says.

  “Probably more than we’ll ever see done,” I say. A bit morbid but it’s true.

  “Unfortunately,” Sarah says. “These Invaders aren’t helping anything either.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “It’s not as if Tajss was bad enough without the extra threats… oh wait, it was.”

  She chuckles at my dark joke.

  “Desert planet, check. Blasted wasteland, check. Some of the deadliest flora anyone could ever dream up, check,” she smiles, ticking off items on her fingers.

  “Don’t forget the shipwreck that stranded us here in the first place,” I grin, holding up a finger.

  “I guess it’s just like Dr. Malcolm says in Jurassic Park. Life does find a way,” she says.

  “I’ve never seen that one,” I say.

  “Really? I loved those vids,” she says.

  “Nah, wasn’t my thing. Firefly, now there’s a show I could get into,” I say. “That second season…”

  “So many people talk about it, but I never did see it,” she sighs. “Apparently I really missed out.”

  “Oh God you have!” I exclaim, blood rushing in my ears.

  Sarah and I chat a little more, but part ways when we reach the building Rosalind’s office is located in. A massive fountain dominates the center of the square, in the middle of which sits a huge stone statue of a Zmaj. The basin has water in it now and is the central place everyone comes to get their supply of that precious resource.

  The fountain is one of a handful of very rare remnants of art that survived the “Devastation” as the Zmaj call it. It’s evidence of a past that is mostly lost. The Zmaj who survived it have spotty memories at best.

  The epis plant that all of us humans also take now helps us adapt to the harsh climate here, but it also lengthens lifespans. The Zmaj we’ve encountered have lived a long, long time. None of them seem to know how long it’s been. Their answers are vague at best. The trauma of everything that happened left them with large chunks of missing memory.

  “I’ve got to go,” Sarah says. “Rosalind is in her office and Drosdan is waiting for me.”

  “Thanks for the company,” I say.

  “No probs!” She waves, then turns and walks off toward the edge of the city.

  The protective dome that covers the City sparkles in the distance. The dome not only keeps out the innumerable predators that roam Tajss looking for something to eat, but it also filters out some of the double red suns’ rays. Which means it’s only steaming hot underneath it, not boiling.

  Taking a deep breath, I hold it for a second, then exhale slowly. As I reach for the door my hand trembles. Nerves? Seriously? I know Rosalind. It’s not like she’s that intimidating.

  Okay, well, she is, sure. It’s not that, though. I want this. I don’t know what this is but I want it. Change, any change, to the boring monotony that my life has become. Rosalind is the center of the budding political scene here on Tajss. That would be an interesting area to be in! Sarah is off with Drosdan now, so maybe Rosalind is looking for a new “right hand.” Oh yes, please, dear god let it be that!

  Okay, the Lady General has a lot on her plate. No point in keeping her waiting. Stepping through the door to the City’s central command post I’m more than familiar with how to get to her office now. Here perhaps more than anywhere the work done on the City shows. Rosalind’s office is several floors up and of course there are no elevators or lift tubes.

  The stairs are almost all repaired. It’s apparent where the construction teams have put in new material to replace what was missing. Glowing pieces of meteorite glass light up what otherwise would have been a nightmare to navigate. I can’t imagine having done this before the glass and repairs.

  Reaching her floor, the door is open when I get there, so I rap on it briefly before walking in. Two steps in and I stop, surprised to find Visidion sitting next to Rosalind.

  His deep emerald eyes lock on me, and they seem to look right through me, straight to my soul. At first I thought the feeling was something that would go away with more exposure to the intimidating Zmaj, but it hasn’t happened yet.

  The Zmaj Tribe Commander has just as much presence as his beautiful mate, her queenly aura matching his intensity. They really are a good match. I can’t imagine anyone besides him that could go toe to toe with Rosalind. She’s demanding, imperial, and at times cold. She’s a leader, through and through, but Visidion matches her while not being challenging. They’re equals, in every sense of the word.

  Hesitating, I look between the two of them. If they’re both here, this must be an important meeting. The dim flicker of hope blooming in my stomach brightens. This has to be something big. It has to be! Biting my tongue hard enough to hurt, I keep an inappropriate grin from spreading across my face.

  “Thanks for coming, Ashlee,” Rosalinda murmurs, gesturing for me to take a seat. “Please, sit down.”

  “Of course,” I say taking the offered seat in front of them.

  “How do you feel about putting your people skills to good use?” Visidion asks.

  Don’t smile, don’t smile, don’t smile.

  The question is straight to the point while not explaining anything really.

  “My people skills?” I ask, thoughts racing.

  “Yes,” Rosalind says, leaning forward. Her face is sincere and focused. “Would you be open to accompanying Nora and Archion to this group that he says he’s from? The Order?”

  My heart pounds and I’m lightheaded. It’s hard to breathe. This! Accompany Nora and Archion back to the Order. I’ve heard rumors—everyone has—but to be asked to go?

  A Zmaj showing up that isn’t a part of the Tribe or living here in the City with us doesn’t happen. Only a handful survived the Devastation, and those that did had become so primal that they couldn’t stand to be around each other. Well, that was the common belief. The Tribe proved that wrong though.

  Archion himself is an enigma. Gossip travels fast in our close-knit circles. I’ve heard how many times Archion has been a clinch player when he came across a group from the Tribe. Heck, he even helped us the last time we had Invaders sniffing around the perimeter of the city. He’s one hell of a fighter with skills even the other Zmaj
have commented on.

  He’s been nothing but helpful and he certainly doesn’t have to be, especially after the Tribe Elders have been so suspicious of him.

  I don’t know that his intentions are completely pure either, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t hope they are really above reproach. That he’s a good person, a hero who simply wanted to help. Maybe I’ll be able to find that out and more.

  It’s obvious that he’s a highly trained warrior. All the people who’ve seen him in action have commented on it. That combined with his references to this “Order” begs the question: what kind of training did he receive? Was it from this mysterious Order? Are they all as good as he is? And why are they so focused on fighting if they are? What objective do they have?

  If only thinking of survival, I honestly don’t think people would be spending so much time learning how to engage in battle. Case in point, the Zmaj who have joined us so far. Not that they aren’t excellent warriors, but everything points to Archion being a cut above.

  All of these thoughts run through my head quickly, a rapid-fire process that has me sitting up straighter. Man, this is so much better than I could have expected!

  If I were alone, I’d likely be squeaking with delight, maybe dancing around my quarters, trying to expend this unexpected surge of energy. I might be out of that lab for a good period of time. That thought has me wanting to stand up and fist-punch the air, but I contain myself.

  This is a kind of political advancement, and jumping up and down with joy won’t exactly give Rosalind and Visidion confidence in my diplomatic abilities. This calls for a certain sense of gravitas and decorum. I don’t want to lose the position before I get it.

  Taking a deep, deliberate breath, I let it out slowly in an effort to calm myself. It’s difficult, but I manage to hold in my exuberant reaction. Careful. They may be offering me the job, but I have to treat this like an interview.

  “Yes, I would,” I say. proud of how calm my voice sounds, forcing myself to accept their offer with just the right amount of ease.