Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  Her blood boiling, Lucienne charged at Seraphen.

  “Leave, Lucienne!” Orlando shouted at a few soldiers furiously. “Get the Siren out of here! Take the copter!”

  Cam managed to drag Lucienne back as he staggered and fell.

  Orlando shot out the metal net. It tangled Seraphen. “More net!” Another warrior launched another net. Seraphen was fighting his way out of the mesh. The warriors closed in on him, trying to pin him down. Some stabbed him, but to no avail. Through the net, Seraphen yanked the warriors along the rocky ground brutally.

  Lucienne’s blood pumped hot and hard in battle frenzy. She knew it was only a matter of time before the mutant would overpower them all. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply so she could think logically.

  The mutant, no matter who he was, wasn’t a god. Even angels, good or fallen, had a weakness. That was the divine design of God. Lucienne would cut every inch of the mutant’s flesh to find his weak spot if only she had the means and the time. In her dire desperation, her eyes wandered toward Ashburn a few feet away.

  He had mentioned when he activated the Eye of Time, the TimeDust also brought Seraphen back. If she deactivated Ashburn, she would terminate Seraphen. That was why the mutant would do anything to preserve Ashburn. Lucienne’s eyes lit with the revelation. Ashburn is Seraphen’s Achilles’ heel.

  She hurried toward Ashburn, but then stopped. This was Ash lying on the ground.

  A warrior flew by her, his blood spilling onto the ground. The rest of the warriors were still tangling with Seraphen, knowing they couldn’t defeat him, knowing they’d die here, yet no one retreated.

  Two soldiers begged Lucienne to take the copter and leave. “I’ll never leave my soldiers behind!” she snapped.

  Every minute, Seraphen would break out and one of her warriors would die under his brutal force. She had to choose—either Ashburn or her royal warriors and friends. Many of them had followed her for a decade, ever since she was a little girl. Only by killing Ashburn, could she save her people. She stared at Ashburn, unconscious at her feet. But if she destroyed him, she’d never be the same. She’d never recover. She knew that deep in her bones, but that was her burden to carry.

  Lucienne squatted beside Ashburn. Her hand touched the side of his neck, her eyes steady on the curve of his beautiful white throat. Her thumb found the acupoint of death. Just a hard press, and her people would be saved. Her fingers shaking, Lucienne closed her eyes.

  Just then, Lucienne felt a stir under her hand. She fluttered open her eyes in surprise. Ashburn looked straight at her, his silver eyes clearer than the cloudless sky.

  She’d shot him with enough narcotics to knock him out for at least two hours. How could he wake up in the middle of this? And how could she murder him like this, with his eyes wide open? But this was war. There’d be casualties. Lucienne hardened her heart.

  Peeking into Lucienne’s eyes, Ashburn said quietly, “The TimeDust has gone into automatic protect mode. It woke me up.” As he spoke, black lightning emerged from his fingertips. “You want to kill me.”

  “It was either you or me,” Lucienne said, waiting for him to make the first move, to strike her, then she’d end him before his lightning reached her. He was more powerful, but she was quicker and better trained.

  Ashburn held back his lightning with effort. “Do what you have to do,” he said. “It’ll come to this anyway.”

  “Fight me, then.”

  “I won’t fight you.”

  Lucienne swallowed. “I don’t want to choose myself over you, but I want my men to go home safely.” Her conscience immediately asked, What about Ashburn? Don’t his parents and Violet want him to come home safely, too?

  “Just do it,” Ashburn said. “I’ll close my eyes if it’s easier for you.” And he shut his icy blue eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Ash,” Lucienne said, going for the kill.

  A voice tingled in her head. The two of you are a genetic match, destined to be one to achieve the greater good. Kill him, and you’ll lose the only mate you can ever have.

  Her shaking finger halted. “Did you just send a message into my mind, Ash?” Her voice was hoarse and trembling.

  Ashburn opened his eyes. They had turned gunmetal blue, hard and cold, flashing dangerous light. “I told you, I can’t get into your mind.” Black lightning hissed in his fingertips, desperate to strike, but Ashburn restrained it with gritted teeth. “What are you waiting for?” His voice was guttural. “I was programmed for evil. Just finish me off. Do it now before I change my mind.”

  Did he know that if she slew him, she’d carry something worse than death with her all her life? Breathing hard, Lucienne ordered her cold, shaking finger to press the Meridian death point on Ashburn’s neck, but she just couldn’t carry through with it.

  Then Seraphen reached her. His mighty fist shot out toward her like a spear, about to punch through her heart. Hovering over Ashburn, Lucienne was in no position to dodge the inevitable strike.

  “No!” Ashburn cried, but there was nothing he could do. She was kneeling over him, between him and Seraphen. If he let out his lightning, it would go through her first, and he was still half immobile under the influence of the drug.

  A brute force threw Lucienne aside. Orlando hurled himself before Seraphen’s fist, and it stabbed right through him. Ashburn let his lightning blast out, striking Seraphen and Orlando, who was beyond help, sending both flying.

  Screaming Orlando’s name, Lucienne rolled on the ground, got up on fours, and ran toward him. Blood pooled around Orlando’s chest and soaked through his uniform. With a rueful look that said he was sorry he couldn’t protect her anymore, Orlando shut his eyes forever.

  “No!” Lucienne cried, “Orlando Sutherland, stay with me! You can’t go!”

  Seraphen recovered from Ashburn’s electrocution and advanced on Lucienne again.

  Her eyes blazing red rage, Lucienne leapt in the air, spinning and kicking Seraphen in the face with all her wrath, hitting the Meridian point of pain. Though it might be in vain—she had seen what little effect acupoints had on Seraphen—she nevertheless tried to inflict as much pain on him as she could.

  Wincing, Seraphen lunged toward the warrior girl. Lucienne yanked out her steel whip, sweeping it across the pain point on Seraphen’s face.

  “Haven’t we tried this already, Siren?” Seraphen said.

  Suddenly, Vladimir and the other survivors from the mountains joined them. They were bloody and ragged, yet alive and willing to fight. “Get your hands off my girl, you greasy pig!” Vladimir slashed his sanjiegun at Seraphen’s skull. The mighty force would kill any human, but Seraphen only wheeled and kicked Vladimir. The mutant was faster than Vladimir, her, and all the warriors combined. Vladimir ducked, but not quickly enough. Besides, he was already wounded jumping from the helicopter. Seraphen’s foot connected to the base of Vladimir’s skull.

  Blood spurted from Vladimir’s mouth. His handsome face went ashen as he collapsed to the ground. Seraphen immediately went for the remaining soldiers.

  “Vlad!” Lucienne moved toward him as tears streamed down her sooty face.

  Seraphen strolled toward Lucienne, slowly and purposefully. There was no one standing between them now. All her warriors were down.

  She needed more time to find a way to terminate the mutant, but time was another luxury she didn’t have. Her fists raised. Her legs parted. Lucienne bent her front knee and sank her weight down into a halfmoon Karate stance, waiting for the final showdown.

  Then in front of her, Ashburn appeared, still swaying from the narcotics, but blocking Seraphen. “Enough killing!” he said.

  “You can thank me later,” Seraphen said, giving Ashburn a hard shove.

  Ashburn shoved Seraphen back. “You’ll not kill her!”

  “She lied to you, tricked you, and nearly killed you,” Seraphen asked, “didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did all those despicable things.”

  “Th
en let me remove her.”

  “She doesn’t deserve to die. I can see the real her underneath her hard shell,” Ashburn said. “And she protected my parents, and that means everything to me.”

  “Heaven and hell, this is worse than I expected,” Seraphen said. “Does she smell like night blossoms mixed with fresh milk? I remember the scent well. Her ancestor Niahm emitted the same scent. You’re an eighteen-year-old boy. Of course you can’t think straight when she’s around.” The mutant pushed Ashburn aside. “Let me do this for you.”

  Ashburn jumped in the air and punched Seraphen in the face. “You’ll follow my order. You’ll not touch her!”

  Seraphen shrugged at Ashburn’s strike. “You’re her prey,” he said. “I came into existence again to keep you safe. When you don’t take your own life into consideration, I override your command.” Seraphen grabbed Ashburn and threw him over his shoulder. Ashburn fell to the ground with a thud.

  Seraphen charged.

  Lucienne’s eyes fixed on the creature. A killing rage boiled inside her, but she controlled it. She must play cat and mouse with him, until she bought enough time. Until she found a way to reduce him to dust.

  When Seraphen was nearly four feet from Lucienne, she shifted to duck, but Seraphen stopped in his tracks, his bulky body bending backward. A net of black lightning wrapped around him, binding him. Ashburn stood behind his protector, his hands up, dark electricity shooting from his fingers.

  Clenching his teeth, Seraphen inched toward Lucienne to claw at her with focused determination to wipe out the last Siren, but the harness of electricity kept him at bay. Lucienne remembered Ashburn saying he couldn’t kill Seraphen, but he could weaken him. Then the same voice that warned her not to kill Ashburn chimed in her mind again. The combination of the lightning and the Eye of Time is a lethal weapon.

  Wildfire spread inside Lucienne.

  Her heart pounding, her blood rushing in her ears, she strode toward Seraphen.

  “Lucienne, what are you doing?” Ashburn said anxiously. “Get away. Now! Take your helicopter and fly far away!”

  Lucienne stopped before Seraphen, whose head and neck had gradually emerged from the black net of lightning. He smirked at her, showing his even, white teeth. In a few seconds, he’d break out, and no one could stop him.

  Lucienne’s left hand was behind her back, holding the open locket. She must set free the Eye of Time at the perfect moment, so it wouldn’t go after Ashburn instead.

  “Lucienne, go!” Ashburn called in desperation. “I can no longer hold . . .”

  Lucienne leapt into the air, swung her arm and at the same time, pushed the pin in on the locket. Free from the Twilight Water, the Eye of Time lunged.

  Seraphen’s eyes went wild. “Ashburn, release me!” he shouted. “She’s letting out—”

  The Eye of Time’s power pulsed in red as Lucienne rammed it into Seraphen’s chest where his heart would be—if he had one—and all the way through, just before he was able to get his hands around her throat. A blazing light radiated from her, lit her like the goddess of wrath, savagely beautiful. “Die, Seraphen!” Lucienne shouted.

  The Eye of Time seared a hole through the mutant’s chest as Ashburn dropped his lightning. The shock on Seraphen’s face was more than any reward to Lucienne. Thick, dark smoke sprouted from him. The air smelled of scorched flesh, but it was the sweetest scent Lucienne had ever known.

  Seraphen crumpled to the ground, staring up at Lucienne, who towered over him with a honeyed smile. “It has begun,” the mutant murmured in grief. “I failed, twice.” His eyes were murky glass.

  “And there’ll be no third time, Seraphen,” Lucienne said, “though they say the third time’s the charm.”

  Ashburn lurched forward, looking at Seraphen in horror. Shock still lingering on his face, he faltered like a drunkard and threw his hands up to grasp his head in agony. Lucienne realized the Eye was now going after Ashburn. She slammed the locket shut, despite the Eye’s growl.

  Ashburn calmed, and then his eyes brimmed with sorrow. He dropped to his knees beside Seraphen, holding the mutant’s hand in his. “Seraphen, I’m sorry. Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?”

  “You chose her. The Exiles will win this time. The Exiles are the most formidable enemy. They have more power than you can imagine.” Seraphen let out a ragged breath.

  “What do they want?” asked Ashburn.

  “Earth. They want it back. They need you two to erase time so that they can return. Once time is removed, so is every species.”

  “No one can erase time. You’re absolutely crazy,” Lucienne rebuked.

  “If you two are together, it will happen,” Seraphen said.

  “We won’t allow it to happen,” Ashburn said.

  “Then kill her.” Seraphen breathed out his last vicious words.

  Ashburn turned to Lucienne, who stared back. Revenge had left her brown phoenix eyes; in its wake were desolation and grief for her men.

  “I can’t. I won’t,” Ashburn said. When he turned back to the mutant again, Seraphen’s unseeing eyes stared up at the sky.

  “Seraphen?” he called.

  “He’s gone,” Lucienne said.

  “He came to protect me,” Ashburn said, weeping, “and I killed him.”

  “No, I killed him. He and I can’t coexist, and you saved me again.”

  But they both knew without Ashburn’s lightning, she’d never have put down Seraphen.

  Ashburn looked at Lucienne, then his protector, and back to her again. A blur of emotions ripped across his face—fear, enchantment, remorse, self-loathing, desire, and then pain. She had never seen him so vulnerable, and in such pain. She’d lost people she loved over the course of her life, but she knew it was the first time he had lost someone. Even though that someone was her fatal enemy, she respected his sadness.

  She owed him her life. This boy believed she would be his ultimate demise, and yet he let her see into his dark memories. He had exposed his weakness to her. Choosing her cost the life of his only protector, the one who could shield him from any danger, from the world itself. From everyone but her. At the brink of life and death, he put her above himself. And he called himself a monster.

  Lucienne sat on her heels beside Ashburn. All her walls tumbled down. She leaned toward him, reaching for him. “Ash,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  Ashburn dropped his resistance and pulled Lucienne into his arms. The magnetic forces finally pulled them together.

  Her body arched and curved toward him, responding to his touch like a fiddle under its masterful fingers. Wind, light, and heat pushed through her, and then the world, the battlefield, her wounded soldiers, her fear and responsibilities fell behind her. Right here, right now, Lucienne saw only Ashburn Fury.

  “I feel I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” Ashburn said as he leaned down to kiss her.

  Fear and desire seized Lucienne. She remembered another kiss, the kiss of disaster. “No, I can’t . . . you can’t,” she said, but she wanted that kiss more than anything—at that moment she wanted it more than her life and his life together.

  “Trust me,” Ashburn said. His lips met hers, pressed hard. There was little tenderness, only raw passion. His mouth scorched hers, demanding, powerful, and desperate, amid the smoke and fire and bodies that littered the battlefield around them.

  Lucienne slid a hand through Ashburn’s silvery hair. A bridge of light flew across the wild river, connecting the two sides. Lucienne sensed what Ashburn sensed, and his wanting and needing became hers. Everything was clear now—he had always wanted her, from first sight, from the beginning. Ashburn’s kiss deepened; his desire ignited hers. It was the kiss of the fires from heaven and hell, and with it, she felt all the rightness, and at the same time, all the wrongness of it.

  Lucienne felt she was going to go up in flames. Still, she clung to him. She had lost herself and didn’t care. All she ever wanted was to want Ashburn, and that unleas
hed want, so intense and unnatural, made her every nerve begin to burn and ache.

  And most wonderful of all was that Ashburn didn’t collapse. Her kiss was meant for him, reserved for him. For him alone.

  Someone called her name, a voice like a drowning man adrift in the ocean. Lucienne sensed a deep shadow, and in its center was a newly conscious mind that contained great pain. A beating heart bled amid broken pieces. Its anguish was so enormous and bottomless that it shot to her like arrows of ice.

  Vladimir, bloody, rose in time to see the passionate kiss.

  The world swirled back to Lucienne.

  “Vlad?” Her joy soared. Her prince was alive! Then shame and guilt bombarded her like a rain shower, drenching her cold and wet. How was it possible for her to forget about Vladimir, Kian, and her men lying dead and injured in the middle of the battlefield while losing herself in Ashburn’s smoldering kiss?

  Mortified, Lucienne touched the bottom of her swollen lip and wrenched away from Ashburn with the heat of passion still coursing through her veins.

  Vladimir looked at her as if she had just eaten his heart. The light in his hazel eyes went out completely. They looked as dead as Seraphen’s. Vladimir averted his lifeless gaze from Lucienne as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her, but reserved one last glance of pure hatred for Ashburn, before stumbling away.

  Worse than the kiss of betrayal was learning the brutal fact that she could kiss another man without injuring him. “Vlad, I . . . I’m sorry.” The words tore out of Lucienne’s burning throat. Her hands reaching out, she moved toward him. “I can . . . explain.”

  Vladimir held his bleeding hand in the air as if warding off the fiend from hell and fled from her. New hurt sailed to Lucienne’s eyes. She quickened her pace, going after Vladimir, but then, stirring arose around her—groans of pain and angry curses. Some of the survivors had gained consciousness and struggled to get up. This wasn’t the time to chase after Vladimir and beg him to listen, to forgive her. The wounded warriors needed her now. Some managed to stand and stagger toward her, still endeavoring to protect her. Some lay dead; others dying.