The Wanting (D'Shar Men)

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2011 Shyla Colt

ISBN:
978-1-926950-89-1

Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

Editor: Dana Horbach

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.

DEDICATION

As always I have to give thanks to the man upstairs. He’s the one who gifted me with my over active imagination, and the passion to write. I am so grateful for all his blessings!

Thanks to my family who put up with the late hours, divided attention, and deadline crunches. Without your support I would not be able to do this.  

Ladies and Gents of Evernight! You are all wonderful.  I am so glad to know you and call you my friends. You really help keep that writing spark burning bright.  

B.H. and Christine of the To Be Read Pile you help more than you know. Thanks for taking a new author under your wing and offering up your fantastic site as a launching platform.

Jess, M, y’all always read the rough drafts I send and offer up feedback. Thank you for that.  

Last but not least, I want to say thank you to the editors who helped make this book the best it could be. Your hard work is so appreciated, and the lessons you’ve taught me will be remembered and used in the future.

THE WANTING

D'Shar Men, 1

Shyla Colt

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

“Zasha, do you have a minute?” Phelan D’Shar said. D’shar’s voice was unmistakable, a smooth baritone that made her want to shiver with delight. A stream of colorful swears left Zasha’s lips as her hurried steps came to a halt twenty feet from the doors of the conference center behind her. Damn! She’d been so close to making a clean get away! After an entire day of discussions and debates, Zasha was anxious to begin her date for one, with a six pack of Rolling Rock and a stuffed crust pizza. The meeting surpassed its intended six-hour mark. It was one issue after another, until her brain throbbed inside her cranium. Mentally exhausted and overtaxed, she was desperate to leave. If it had been anyone other than Phelan, she would have pretended not to hear the call, picked up her pace, and escaped to the safety of her car.

But she always had a soft spot for the alien King. He managed to carry a heavy load on his shoulders with the grace and dignity that had earned her admiration from day one. She sensed a dark sensuality lurked beneath the surface, and despite her best efforts, she longed to tap into it. Her preoccupation with Phelan had begun years ago during her training at the Paranormal Investigation Academy. Intelligent and witty, Professor D’Shar held the ability to explain the alien anatomy and psychological make-up in a way that was unparalleled. Many of his kind had tried to recreate his witty banter and descriptive explanations, but they failed to deliver with the same warmth and ease.

When she’d learned his skill with weapons and hand-to-hand combat was exemplarily as well, her respect shifted to want. Brains and brawn were a rare combination. Her secret longing had been kept in check by the rules set in place. Fraternization between an instructor and a student was forbidden. Years later, she didn’t have that luxury to police her desires. Transfixed by his amber eyes, she felt a dull throb begin in her core.

She drank in his broad shoulders and tousled chestnut hair, and her mouth went dry. Kentucky evenings in the fall were notorious for being crisp and chilly. It was a fact she had never been more grateful for as she stood beside him doing her best rendition of someone who was unaffected.

Zasha had always been a sucker for tall, dark, and handsome. But her libido couldn’t have picked a more off-limits person to go wild for. She still remembered the first time she saw him, on the day known as
The Awakening.

Five years earlier…

Zasha called to her roommate.
“
Taye, come look at this.” She set her homework to the side as she focused on the newscast.

“What, Z? I just stepped out of the shower.”

“The president and some tan Roman god are about to address the nation,” said Zasha. She giggled when Taye rushed from her room, tying a knot in her pink robe before she flounced down on to the couch beside her.

“My name is Phelan, and I am ruler of Tagget, a solar system light years away from your own,” he said. Zasha gasped.
Had he just admitted to being an alien on a television broadcast?
“For many years my people have lived among you and studied your culture. But now that our sun is failing, we seek safe passage, and assistance.”

Zasha leaned forward as he continued talking, completely captivated by the man on the screen. What he said should fill her with shock, maybe even horror. But instead it validated everything Zasha had seen the night her mother was murdered. Her mind filled with the image of a mysterious blue glow and the sight of her mother’s burned body before it collapsed into itself. The only physical evidence left for the Covington Police Department to recover had been a mound of ash that no one could explain. Liberation washed over her like a wave as the question of her sanity was finally laid to rest. After years of being told what she saw wasn’t possible she was vindicated.

After the incident had occurred, she’d been sent to countless psychologists to help her cope with the slaughter of her mother at the hand of her mother’s boyfriend. Each doctor was driven to the diagnosis of a psychotic break caused by the reality she couldn’t handle. Eventually she’d learned to keep her thoughts about that night to herself. But she really never drank the Kool-Aid they offered. In the end, the unsolved crime had motivated her to pursue her major in Criminal Justice.

“Now is the time for all of those here to step forward and be revealed,” the man on the television said.

Her heart beat in her chest like humming bird’s wings when people in the press conference stood to reveal hands that glowed blue. She needed to learn all she could about these people and hopefully, in turn, herself. Strange things had occurred in her body after her mother’s death.

****

Present Day

Since that day, Phelan and his royal siblings labored nonstop to form a peaceful union between the aliens, known as the Shar, and humans. It was the goal the Alien Alliance Committee strove toward. In addition to the A.C.C., the government provided law enforcement designed to deal with aliens.

The Paranormal Investigation Unit, or P. I. U., was sent to the site of all situations thought to involve otherworldly beings. Each agent underwent specialized training and had been born with talents that needed to be kept off the record. From telepathy to predicting the future they possessed mixed bags of tricks. Their weapons and protective gear were modified to stand up to the Shar. Phelan was gracious enough to reveal a portion of their weaknesses which helped place them on a more even playing field. The agents were the only humans equipped to deal with the Shar one on one. Rumor had it, the P.I.U. agents were a group of humans abducted at some point in their lives and sent back to Earth with a little something extra. Zasha would have called bullshit on the story, but she often wondered where her team’s unexplained gifts came from, and why those talents had manifested.

Each state received a number of P.I.U. units, but hands down, the crew she led was the best and brightest for Kentucky. Phelan had vehemently denied any abduction, which government officials believed. It was common knowledge that there were rogue aliens out there who didn’t jive with his co-habitation plans. The rogue aliens had made their opposition known via broadcast and acts of terrorism. So far the attacks had all been small scale events, but it was a matter of time until they did something more drastic.

“What can I do for you, D’Shar?” she asked. Her voice steady and cool despite the party the butterflies were having in her stomach. He always brought out the feminine aspect she normally kept under lock. One didn’t get as far as she in her career unless they blended in as one of the guys.

“I wanted to thank you for backing me up in there,” he said. A slight smile curved his delectable pink lips up as she held his direct gaze. There was power in the Shar’s eyes that rendered most humans vulnerable to mind control. Zasha possessed a resistance to mental tampering, but it was a skill set she didn’t use often. She did so as a show of respect for the former mentor who helped train her.

The Shar landed with more than different DNA. They came equipped with extraordinary abilities that scared the hell out of the general public. Mind persuasion and molecular manipulation were the most common.

“Well, I agreed with you. There’s a fine line between invasion of rights and the enforcement of the law. Because someone doesn’t share my DNA doesn’t mean they should be guilty until proven innocent,” she said.

Zasha had been glad they vetoed the motion to use precautionary measures on all aliens. The minute you started to head into that gray area, it was a slippery slope.

“All the same, you’ve always been fair. It’s one of the many things I admire about you.”
Phelan D’ Shar admired her?
“But I digress. I have a Halloween ball on the thirty-first that I’d like you to attend.”

The hope she had tamped down a million times previously rushed to the surface. It was insane to think he wanted her. She wasn’t sure if the Shar dated outside of their race, and she had a reputation to uphold. A relationship with the King of the Shar would be a major conflict of interests. It would inhibit her ability to be impartial in the eyes of many. Too bad a large part of her didn’t care. She would take Phelan anyway she could get him. Ride him until she was too sore for more and live off the memories for the rest of her life.

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion when his eyes grew as round as saucers. His hands shot up in the universal sign of surrender, and his face glowed a pale blue. The cerulean coloring was identical to a blush in a human.

“Not as a date or anything, just as a show of good will towards us, and to help even out the human to alien ratio,” he said.

She shoved her hands into her pockets and struggled to keep a straight face. “When and where?” she asked.