by CK Dawn
After she slowly drained half the cup, she pushed it away. With a sigh, she snuggled against his chest that bulged tightly against a Versace shirt. He smelled of wood, shampoo, and summer flowers on a hot day.
“You smell of Sphinxes,” she said. He smelled of home.
“I know.” Smiling smugly, Vladimir said, “I took a shower before coming back to see you. You have a thing for scents, as do I.”
Lucienne blinked, conscious of her own odor. If she’d slept for forty hours, she hadn’t bathed for over forty hours.
“Don’t worry,” Vladimir sniffed her hair and kissed it. “You smell of sweat, blood, and hospital, but none of them come close to masking your natural perfume. It can drive a man mad, but, as we both know, I’m the king of control.”
Someone eased the door open. Out of modesty, Lucienne pulled away from Vladimir.
Nurse Mary came, smiling. “You’re awake, Lucia. And your fever is gone.”
Vladimir grunted, “I thought we could have some privacy in the middle of the night.”
“Thanks, Mary,” Lucienne cut in before the nurse snapped back at Vladimir. “Please don’t let Dr. Wren know I’m awake.” Then, over Mary’s rueful expression, she asked, “You’ve informed him, haven’t you?”
“He’d throw a fit if he found out,” Mary said.
Before Mary left the room, Kian, Orlando, the elite commandos, and Ziyi, appeared at the door. The recovery room, designed to feel like a ladies’ lounge instead of a hospital room, became a full house.
“This isn’t a party,” Vladimir said. “She just woke up. She needs more rest.”
Dr. Wren stormed in. “What are you boys doing here?”
“You called us,” Ziyi said. “You woke all of us up to tell us Lucia has awoken.”
“I wanted you to hear the good news. And I wanted all of you to be aware that it was under my excellent care that she recovered quickly,” Dr. Wren said, red-faced. “But I didn’t call you to come pester her. I’ll give her a thorough checkup, and then she’ll have something appropriate to eat before she rests again. Now, off you go. Let her rest.”
No one moved.
“Go!” Dr. Wren barked, looking at Vladimir, who had slipped into a chair beside the bed. “Including you, prince!”
“Since you’ve woken them up, Dr. Wren,” Lucienne said, surveying the faces, “let them stay a little longer. I need to talk to them anyway. Have someone bring coffee.”
“Most of the military personnel are here,” Kian said. “Who else do you want to see?”
“Weapons specialists. I want them here in five minutes.”
Lucienne had been brooding about what Seraphen had said about her and Ashburn, and what Ashburn had said when he activated the Eye of Time. Everything related to it came alive. Seraphen must be one of the byproducts.
After the weapons specialists arrived, Lucienne briefed her team about Seraphen.
“Seraph means ‘the burning one,’ ” Ziyi said, “a type of six-winged angels in the Christian Bible.”
“He’s far from an angel,” said Lucienne.
“A machine then?” someone asked.
“A cyborg, more likely. Some military factories have started building a second generation, but the models are still crude,” an engineer said. “Maybe someone else built the perfect model.”
“Or a genetically enhanced human. There are a few experiments on the black market.”
“He’s none of those.” Lucienne said. “We don’t know what he is.”
“Whatever he is,” Orlando said, waving a fist, “let’s nuke the Ghost House and bury the thing inside.”
“That would only piss him off,” Lucienne said. “Earthly weapons can’t kill him.”
“No one is indestructible, not even Superman,” Vladimir said. “Suppose he’s an alien. What if we use elements from meteorites to build weapon?”
“The elements are the same as those on Earth,” said a tall weapons scientist. “Even if he’s extraterrestrial, we’ll need to determine which planet he’s from. If earthly weapons can’t kill him, then rocks and metals from planets outside his homeland would be useless, too.”
“If we can’t find a way to eliminate him soon,” Vladimir said, “then we trap him. We put him in a cage, an unbreakable cage.”
“An excellent idea!” the tall scientist said. “Once he’s contained, we can study him until we find his weakness. We could make a breakthrough on quantum physics.”
“He’ll be too much trouble for quantum,” Lucienne said.
“Then we’ll sink him to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean,” Vladimir said viciously.
“I can use carbyne to build a cage,” said a round-faced weapons engineer.
“Build it, then,” Kian said. “What can we use to trap him?”
“A net made of Inconel 625 will do,” said an engineer sitting in the corner of the room.
“Add iridium from asteroids,” the round-faced engineer said, “and we’ll make several net launchers that can sustain maximum thrusts of 220, 000 PSI.”
“Do whatever it takes,” Kian said.
The weapons engineers left to begin building trapping devices.
When Lucienne woke up in the late afternoon, she wanted to leave the patient room, but no one would allow her.
“Am I a prisoner in my own home?” she demanded.
“You are,” Kian said. “Until you’re well.”
“I’m not a bed ridden maiden. A warrior doesn’t lie in bed.”
“When a warrior is injured in the field, she must stay in bed and listen to the doctors,” Kian said. “Dr. Wren’s prescription is two weeks. You’ve been in bed less than three days.”
Aida nodded. She’d been treating Lucienne like a five–year-old girl, coaxing her to drink her soup of chicken and ginseng.
“You know how crazy Dr. Wren is,” Lucienne protested.
“If I were him, I’d order you stay in bed for a month.”
Lucienne pouted.
“Kian can be overprotective,” the nanny said, “but I agree with him on this.”
“I regenerate much faster,” Lucienne said. “Have you forgotten?”
“Do you want to go to war in a week or not?” Kian asked.
“The men will be able to build the devices in a week?”
“We’ll push it. I know how eager you are to get rid of the mutant and secure the Fury kid. Let’s just get it over with.”
“And then we can focus on the war at the Red Mansion.”
“So you’d better stay in bed until you fully recover,” Kian said.
Lucienne didn’t want to argue with him again, so she turned to her nanny, “Aida, you should stay in bed and rest more. You were poisoned.”
“My sweet girl, I’m well enough,” Aida said, sending another spoon toward Lucienne’s mouth. “I don’t like so many people disturbing your rest. Kian, you must order the guards outside to block everyone other than me. Especially that Czech kid. He’s almost moved in here.”
Lucienne laughed softly. “Did you make him go home to shower again?”
Just then, Vladimir strolled in with a grin. His expensive cologne flowed to every corner of the room. “I just had my second shower today. Aida, you can leave now. I’ll feed Lucia. My hands are tender, and my smile sweeter.”
Aida shook her head in disgust. “I can’t stand to stay in the same room with him. His cologne is killing me. I can’t understand how my Lucia can take it.” She left for the door.
“I’ve been wondering the same since day one,” Kian said, covering his nose and following Aida out.
Lucienne knew that Vladimir intentionally wore the perfume to drive the men away, so he could have her all to himself. She looked at him disapprovingly.
Vladimir called after Kian and Aida. “You should thank me for not smelling of garlic.”
“If you do, I’ll kick you out,” Lucienne said with a straight face.
Lucienne, Kian, Vladimir, Orlando, their commando army,
and their weapons engineers landed at Hell Gate. The tents they had left behind flapped in the wind.
The commandos only went out in groups of seven. They carried net launchers with them at all times. The plan was to transport Seraphen to the Sphinxes’ cage after capturing him. BL7 would carry the net with the captive trapped inside in the open air to Sphinxes. No one cared if the high velocity and altitude would kill him. It probably wouldn’t.
The warriors sought Seraphen everywhere except the Ghost House. The first week went by unproductively, and the men became restless.
Ashburn stayed one step ahead of them. Whenever Lucienne and her men went into town to lure him and Seraphen out, Ashburn would hide inside the Rabbit Hole.
Kian called for a second military meeting, and the men gathered inside the commander’s tent.
“I’ll take Squad One to the Ghost House to flush them out,” Orlando offered.
“You go in there,” Lucienne said, “you won’t come out alive.”
“I say we take the chance,” Orlando said. “We have the best combat commandos. Plus, we’re all wearing our impact suits. We’ll drag him out with the net launcher.”
Boiling with battle zest, the men shouted support. “We can handle one mutant!” Cam the giant was the loudest.
“You didn’t fight him as I did,” Lucienne said. “You didn’t see what he was capable of. And there’s so much about the Ghost House we don’t know. All that robot junk could come alive and go on a killing frenzy. I’m not overly cautious, but I won’t lose my best soldiers without good reason.”
Orlando wanted to argue, but Lucienne held a hand in the air. “We’ll not fight inside the enemy’s lair. That’s final.”
“How does Ashburn know our every move?” Vladimir asked.
“I was wondering that, too.” Orlando looked around sharply, as if trying to find a mole he could whack. “Whenever we set out in his direction, he’s already fled to the Ghost House.”
“Ashburn has powers beyond our perception,” Lucienne said.
Eyebrows up, Vladimir stared at Lucienne, waiting. Lucienne blew out a sigh. She couldn’t keep this from her men anymore. “He can access your memories, even remotely, which means, he can constantly read your thoughts. He knows everything you know.”
“I met that kid,” the giant said. “He doesn’t look that impressive.”
“He can block the satellite,” Duncan said. “That sounds impressive to me.”
Kian turned to Lucienne. “What else do you know?”
“I’m the only one who can shield my mind against him,” she said. Over her men’s puzzled, awed looks, she added, “I’m the Siren. My bloodline is one of the most ancient, like his. We need to change plans. I need to go to him alone.”
“Absolutely not!” Orlando said. Then everyone rose, objecting fiercely.
“It’s the only way,” Lucienne said. “I need to talk to him first. I’ll radio when I need you.”
“Don’t allow her, McQuillen,” Vladimir said. “She’s behaving carelessly again.”
Lucienne narrowed her eyes at Vladimir, and he glared back. “Don’t put us in this impossible position,” he said.
The rest of the warriors murmured in agreement. For the first time, all the men united to oppose the Siren’s decision.
“We must take the risk,” Lucienne said. “Ashburn won’t hurt me. I’ll only go to the Fury house and wait him out. He’ll come home eventually if he knows I’m alone, and he’ll never allow Seraphen to go near his parents. As long as I stay with his folks, I’m safe. And when Seraphen is out of his lair, you take him down.”
“We can hold his parents or his girlfriend hostage,” Vladimir said. “That way we’d get Ashburn first, then the mutant, and you’d stay safe.”
“That will work,” Kian said.
When it came to fighting wars, the two men closest to her thought the same way, more than they wanted to admit. But if Lucienne used Ashburn’s family against him, he’d never forgive her. “No,” Lucienne said. “The Furys are sheep, and I’m not a butcher.”
“We’re at war, Lucienne,” Vladimir said. “We do whatever it takes to win.”
“Blazek has a point this time,” Orlando agreed.
“We’re at war with Seraphen, not with Ashburn Fury,” Lucienne said.
“What’s the difference?” Vladimir rolled his eyes. “They’re the same.”
“Not to me,” Lucienne said.
Vladimir’s jaw tightened and his eyes went hard.
“I can’t just think in terms of war,” Lucienne said. “We need Ashburn to help us figure out the puzzles and then we can all move forward.”
“I hope that’s the only thing you need from him,” Vladimir said.
“What does that mean?” Glaring at Vladimir, Lucienne slammed her hand onto the table. A map on it trembled.
“You know exactly what I mean, Queen of Secrecy.” Vladimir struck out his jaw, glaring back.
This was their first public fight. Lucienne bit her lip. “If you don’t want to be around me, take off.”
“It’ll be sooner than you want,” Vladimir barked back.
Lucienne swallowed, her face reddening.
“Time out,” Kian called. “Both of you.”
Vladimir and Lucienne still glared at each other, tense as steel, though Lucienne softened first. “I won’t corner Ashburn and burn the bridge. I know exactly what I’d do if anyone ever used you to get to me. There’d be no forgiveness.”
Red anger faded from Vladimir’s eyes, but bitterness remained. He tried to mask his helpless look, but Lucienne knew it too well. He hated letting her walk into danger alone.
“If you won’t go for the hostage plot, then we’ll play politics. We can use the king and the natives to force his hand,” Kian said.
The Sphinxes team had been monitoring the natives through cameras in Nirvana. Consequently they had been privy to a recent inspirational speech made by Prince Felix in the tavern. “The gods’ light does not shine as brightly as it once did because Ashburn the Extra has brought curses to Nirvana!”
“Some nights the light suddenly goes out,” someone had murmured.
“Everything went downhill after the filthy outsiders came,” said the guard who had been humiliated by Vladimir in the Fury house. “That witch queen put a spell on the kingdom.”
“The outside queen isn’t too bad, though she does have a terrible temper.” The prince turned his fire on his one true enemy. “Ashburn led the outsiders here. He betrayed us!”
“One of the most lethal weapons is to manipulate the masses and brainwash the populace by planting fear,” Kian had said as he had viewed the footage.
“That bonehead knows we can stop the king’s guards,’” Lucienne had agreed, “but we can’t stop a mass attack by the town’s civilian ‘vigilantes’ on Ashburn.”
Now Kian also wanted to make the natives threaten Ashburn, so the Fury boy would seek asylum in Sphinxes.
“Ashburn is only vulnerable when it comes to Violet and his parents,” Lucienne said. “Peder and Clement would rather die than leave their home.”
“If you’re so worried about hurting him and his folks, then you should know snatching him away will hurt them just the same,” Vladimir said coldly.
“That’s not the same. His parents lost him once, and they actually benefited,” Lucienne said, but she wouldn’t explain. Over Vladimir’s weary look she said firmly, “I’ll meet Ashburn alone, and I’ll come back to you safely.” She laid her hand on his arm, and her touch calmed him. The edge gradually eased out of his eyes. “I’ll have to borrow your motorcycle, Vlad,” she added.
“You ask too much,” Vladimir grunted. But the next day, Lucienne rode Vladimir’s motorcycle to the Fury house alone.
She brought the Furys gifts and told them she’d like to live with them for a while, to learn their customs and the tongue of Nirvana. Clement and Peder insisted on giving Lucienne their master bedroom, but Lucienne responded that sh
e would take the spare room next to Ashburn’s.
From the absence of the auto-light that night, Lucienne knew Ashburn was inside the Rabbit Hole. Before bedtime, she shrugged off her motorcycle jacket and wool pants in favor of a ribbed top and pajama pants. The material was soft against her skin; the blend of silk and spandex allowed her to practice her nightly Tai Chi for the next hour.
When the Fury house became quiet, Lucienne snuck out of her room and slipped into Ashburn’s. Holding a specimen bag, she headed straight into the bathroom adjoined to his bedroom. She found a wooden hairbrush in the cabinet, but there wasn’t a single hair on it. She swept the flashlight over the sink, and then the floor. Everything was clinically spotless. Empty-handed, Lucienne moved back into the bedroom, hoping to find a hair or two on the pillows.
“What are you looking for, Queen Lucienne?” a voice called from the bed. “Perhaps I can help you find it?”
Lucienne jumped, almost dropping her flashlight. “Ashburn?” she asked in a small, incredulous voice, shoving the specimen bag into her pocket in a hurry.
“Who else would you expect to find in my bed?” Ashburn asked.
Lucienne turned her flashlight toward the bed.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shine it directly into my eyes. If you need light, all you have to do is ask, nicely,” Ashburn said. The room instantly glowed with a natural, warm light.
Blushing, Lucienne turned off the flashlight. She’d never been caught spying before. Ashburn seemed to catch her every vice.
From her position in the bathroom doorway, Lucienne took in the length of Ashburn. He lay in bed, his hands crossed behind his head on two pillows. He wore a peacock blue sweater and black sweatpants. His silver hair flowed gracefully down his broad shoulders, creating an image more beautiful than any male model on the cover of Esquire.
This was the first time she’d seen him in person since her injury three weeks ago. Lucienne was suddenly self-conscious about dressing in her pajamas as his ice blue eyes roved over her.
Then, before she could stop herself, she advanced toward him, acquiescing to her urge to get closer to him, envisioning herself tracing the outline of his beautiful lips before resting her head in the crook of his strong shoulder. It’s the pull. It’s manipulating me again. Lucienne stopped in her tracks. It was getting harder to deprive herself this pleasure, let alone enduring the throbbing heartache every time she resisted the pull. She tugged at the hem of her pajama top. “When . . .” she stuttered, “when did you get in?”