by Meg Xuemei X
Bayrose’s face reddened in anger. How dare he show this disrespect?
“You want the deal or not?” McQuillen asked.
“Even if I want it, I can’t grant it to you.” said Mirrikh, his smirk gone.
Rage flashed by Kian McQuillen’s hard eyes, but he was in control of himself the next second. “Send me the one who can say the word,” he said. “My business with you is finished.”
“Our business is far from over, McQuillen,” said Mirrikh. “You see, you’ve come to the wrong place. You’re in a military fortress, thousands of miles away from where Samantha is held.” He looked pleased at watching McQuillen suffer distress. “Now I know you staged your own capture, but your plan went awry. True, it’s a tradition we put the most dangerous animals like you and Samantha in Abaddon 5, but the founder has a different vision when it comes to you and your little Siren. Don’t look so disappointed. Even if we threw you into the North Korean prison, you wouldn’t be able to see her. No one but the founder has access to Samantha.”
Or the one who had the founder’s ring. Bayrose flashed a ruby ring on her index finger, the original Sealers’ symbol of an arrow piercing an all-seeing eye engraved atop the priceless gem.
“Inform your founder that I’ll trade the second scroll for a talk with Samantha,” McQuillen said. “Thousands of miles are nothing. Modern transportation can make the mileage as narrow as the space between your eyes. Bring her to me, or me to her, and you’ll have the scroll.”
Mirrikh shook his head. “We want the scroll, but Samantha is more important than that.”
“I won’t hurt her,” McQuillen said.
“You won’t hurt her?” Mirrikh threw back his head and gurgled. “She’ll hurt you. That’s how her reputation precedes her. When we put her in Abaddon 5, we had to take extreme care with her.”
We? Bayrose rolled her eyes to the back. You’re not at that rank, Mirrikh Schwartz.
“Isn’t your founder interested in what I’m going to say to Samantha?” McQuillen said.
“You want the information about the cure,” Mirrikh said. “What else?”
“Samantha’s long-buried secrets.” McQuillen leaned back in his iron chair. “But I’m done talking to you. You have no real power or access to the founder. Why don’t you fetch me Bayrose Thorn, the new speaker girl?”
Bayrose felt her heart skip a beat at McQuillen’s mentioning of her name, then winced as Mirrikh delivered a punch to McQuillen’s jaw. McQuillen rattled his chains, straining to strike back, but he was bound completely. McQuillen spat blood at his antagonist, and Mirrikh kicked his captive in the chest. With a raging yell and a violent pull, Sphinxes’ chief half broke free one of the chains. That was incredible! Mirrikh reeled back, and his jihadist guards sprang forward like a pack of mutts toward McQuillen, their weapons pointing at the prisoner.
Mirrikh picked instruments of torture from a nearby operation table and closed in on Sphinxes’ chief again.
Bayrose jumped as a chortle rose behind her. She verbally commanded the hologram to turn off, and the violence in it faded out. She wheeled around, facing Mirrikh Schwartz with a syrupy smile. “Mirrikh!”
“You’ve arrived, my lady,” Mirrikh said fondly.
Another holo-screen played a live feed of Kian McQuillen in his cell. He shut his eyes—one of them swollen— in meditation. The man obviously knew he was being watched.
“Since when must you call me that?” Bayrose chided Mirrikh, but she stretched her hand for him to kiss—a respect all elders paid to the speaker for the founder.
Mirrikh kissed the founder’s ring. His mouth opened wider to wrap her ring finger in it. Bayrose shivered and pulled back her hand. Being licked by Mirrikh felt like committing incest.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Showing my respect to the new speaker for the founder.” He peeked into her eyes with a spark of amusement. He must have mistaken her shiver as pleasure despite her clipped tone. “Any words from the founder?”
Bayrose didn’t answer him. “Our enemy has Nickolas M. Poles,” she said. “Do you think they’ll demand to exchange him for McQuillen?”
“If they do, they’re kidding themselves,” Mirrikh said. “Nickolas has no one but himself to blame. He trusted the wrong people. In this business, you can’t count on your own family. His first cousin Laura is next in line for the elder’s seat.”
“So McQuillen threw himself at us for nothing.”
“He wouldn’t be so desperate to give up his own life if his Siren queen wasn’t running out of time. Didn’t Prince Vladimir once act equally desperate for her? It’s quite ironic that in order to gain back her grace, he actually delivered the poison down her throat.”
Bayrose gave him a sharp look.
“He broke your heart, didn’t he?” Mirrikh shrugged. “You’ll have your revenge. They’ll all die. First McQuillen, then the Siren of Sphinxes, and then the Czech prince.”
“You’ll not touch him.”
“Still harbor feelings for the prince,” Mirrikh sounded jealous and angry, “after what he did to you?”
“No more than I did to him,” she said coldly. “And he’ll be sorry when he meets me again.”
“He’s already sorry that he met you.”
Bayrose’s eyes narrowed to slits. If she had claws, she’d use it to ruin Mirrikh’s vicious, good-looking face.
“His relationship with you cost him his Siren.” Mirrikh placed his hand against the small of her back as if wanting to sooth the tension out of her. “He never imagined an innocent, sweet-looking girl like you could outsmart him. You were really sweet to him when he was around, weren’t you?”
Sidling out of his reach, Bayrose fixed her gaze on McQuillen on the holo-video. He opened his eyes and stared ahead as if he could see through her via the camera lens. There wasn’t any human warmth in his steely eyes. Bayrose shuddered, but soon recollected herself. She could be that way too. She could be cold, hard steel, and no one could ever hurt her again.
Her world had shifted overnight when Vladimir had deserted her, and when the Siren bitch had blown up Rose with her father Immanuel Thorn inside.
She could no longer live a sheltered life full of roses without thorns. She’d been thrown under the wheel of a war machine thanks to the power-hungry Siren. The pain hadn’t stopped for even a second ever since she’d lost her love. It would lessen when she had the Siren’s head, literally. It was time for Bayrose to return the favor. Actually she’d revenged the Siren with Blood Tear. She only needed to make sure there was absolutely no antidote for Lucienne.
Her enemy wouldn’t last long. It was a wonder Lucienne hadn’t died on Bayrose’s ancestors’ altar in the Temple of Lemuria after taking the ancient poison. The Siren’s power preserved its host. Jimmy Lam, the Siren’s biological father, had reported back that he’d never seen any power like that. His daughter had brought down the ancient force field and destroyed the temple after he’d escaped. Of course, his daughter had let him flee.
No matter, Blood Tear was the most potent poison, its antidote far beyond the reach of this world. Lucienne wouldn’t escape the horrible ending she deserved. After she was gone, would Vladimir return to Bayrose? They had unfinished business. His careless laugh that had once drawn her heart toward him echoed in her ears, and the image of the mischievous light dancing in his hazel eyes swung back and forth before her.
He betrayed her, but she’d betrayed him first.
“You’re moody today, my Lady,” Mirrikh said, cutting off her trance. He glanced at McQuillen on the holo-video. “Will you actually consider his bargain?”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Bayrose said. “We don’t make peace with them. It’s been our motto since the beginning. I’ll dance on the Siren’s grave. I’m only thankful she won’t go down easily. The ancient poison is the worst kind. It’ll burn her inch by inch until she has no skin left. I hear it’s already burning her.”
“Who
would expect a girl who looks so sweet and lovely contains such venomous hatred. Hell hath no fury like a woman—”
Bayrose controlled her urge to kick him in the balls. He must have seen the scorching look in her eyes, so he cut out the final words. “However,” he said. “I adore your ferocity. The fire in you has finally ignited.”
All it had taken was pain and loss, and Lucienne was the source of them all. Bayrose glued her eyes on the injured McQuillen. “How will the Siren react if I send her McQuillen’s head in a box?”
“My lovely Rose,” Mirrikh leered, “let’s find out.”
CHAPTER 11
DESERT WRAITH
Valkyrie flew across the Mediterranean Sea, then over the green and brown mountains of Greece.
Lucienne’s blood ran colder every second she couldn’t get to Kian.
When she arrived at the operation office inside a high-tech corporate building in Athens, Bansi Soni, the Indian computer genius, and his team had set up the network. She had him secretly shipped to Athens op to aid her. And now she was sharing Director Pyon’s encrypted communication channels.
“Director Pyon will execute me if he finds out,” Bansi Soni said. When he was nervous, his Indian accent became thicker.
“Who hired you?” asked Lucienne. “Who picked you up from the dirt?”
“You,” Bansi Soni said.
“Then who do you want to please—me or him?”
“You’re nice,” said Bansi Soni. “Director Pyon is a formidable man.”
“I can be very formidable,” Lucienne stared down at Bansi Soni. “I’m sweet to you ‘cause you’re my friend. I can drop all the niceties if you prefer.”
“Don’t drop it,” Bansi Soni grunted. “I’ll do what you want.”
Through the satellite Dragonfly, Lucienne watched Sphinxes’ force attack the Sealers’ thirty outposts and military bases. General Fairchild and Admiral Enberg led the global assaults.
“Director Pyon is on,” Bansi Soni called.
“Stay with him and his team,” Lucienne ordered.
The hologram showed the team landing in Libya’s desert. They each wore a white robe and black cap outside a mosque, disguising themselves as desert tribal men.
Being blocked by the enemy technology, the satellite couldn’t see through heated objects inside the thirty-seven acre military compound. The base had a remote-controlled steel door, two razor-wire fences, and anti-tank traps. Outside the last fence, a two-mile radius was laced with landmines.
As soon as the Desert Wraith team deactivated the minefield, a dozen TanTrks—a hybrid tank and attack truck—sped over the dark sand dune carrying Sphinxes’ commandos. A minute later, dogs barked from the enemy’s fortress. The alarm went off and gunfire broke out. Two enemy militants fell from the watch tower. Missiles and counter-missiles from both sides met in the air like a rain of fire. The militants shot several missiles toward the rows of TanTrks.
One TanTrk flipped in the air and toppled down.
Acid flooded Lucienne’s stomach.
The rest of the TanTrks didn’t break rank as they pushed toward the enemy’s camp, leaving twists of smoke and a storm of sand behind.
Cameron III and two fighters—Hornet I and II—whirled above the war camp but didn’t drop missiles or bombs.
Lucienne slammed her fist on her palm, wishing she could join the fight. Thaddeus, standing behind her, appeared equally restless.
“Lucia,” Bansi Soni called, “news from Abaddon 5 just came through.”
“Let’s hear it,” Lucienne said.
Bansi Soni switched the channel, and a mission leader reported through the encrypted communication channel, “The chief isn’t in Abaddon 5. We suffered a great loss, but we caught the head warden. He swore they never admitted the chief. And Sealers elder Samantha escaped three days ago.”
Kian is in Libya border. Lucienne turned back to the screen just as Hornet I dropped a chemical bomb. In a blink of an eye, the enemies’ stronghold ceased fire and turned into a silent zone.
“Black Coma, isn’t it?” Thaddeus said. “Cousin Patrick mentioned it.”
Black Coma—designed to knock out any living thing—was a new chemical weapon Lam’s Industry developed a few months ago. The Lams would get a huge contract after Pyon’s Desert Wraith assault.
“Why didn’t Pyon use the sleeping bomb earlier,” Thaddeus asked, “so none of our TanTrks would have been hit?”
“Director Pyon must have wanted the enemy militants to be aware of the attack but not have enough time to organize an efficient counterattack,” Adam said. “That way, Chief McQuillen would be alert and get ready.”
“Black Coma is costly,” Lucienne said. “We haven’t put it into mass production. Pyon was only testing it. He wouldn’t use it to knock out our chief unless he had no choice.”
The steel gate to the enemy’s compound swung open.
“Ziyi hacked into the terrorists’ system!” Bansi Soni pounded the table with a cheer. “I told you that girl is good.”
The Desert Wraith team, wearing special masks, passed the electric fencing and sped through the door without any resistance. Gray-haired Pyon was among them.
Lucienne’s heart raced erratically as hope and fear took turns running through her mind. The scouts were inside the compound now. Every step they took led them closer to Kian. Until she heard a team leader’s brief buzz through Pyon’s radio, “Chief McQuillen isn’t here.”
Lucienne’s limbs went icy cold, fear in her every vein. Where is Kian? Had she already been too late? A red wave rolled in. No, not now! That was why Pyon had refused to let her be in the field. She could jeopardize the men’s lives if she went mental. Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. I’ll take ownership of my fear. I’ll take ownership—
Still, she couldn’t exorcise the black fear stuck to her bone marrow.
“Cousin?” Thesaurus clutched her shoulders. “Snap out of it, cousin! Kian needs you!”
“He’s not there,” she panted, her voice muffled in her ears. “Kian isn’t there. Where is he?”
“We’ll find him,” Thesaurus said. “Look at me, cousin!”
Lucienne looked into the warrior’s eyes. His loyalty, bravery, and determination lent her the strength she desperately needed.
“The chief is alive,” her captain said, “and we’ll find him!”
The red wave passed through Lucienne and was gone.
CHAPTER 12
THE SHADOW
HOURS BEFORE THE ATTACK OF
THE DESERT WRAITH
Bayrose studied a half-conscious Kian McQuillen.
Once he went free, he’d become the Sealers’ nightmare again. But he wouldn’t become hers, because she’d be his.
“I’ve had a change of heart,” Bayrose said. “I don’t want McQuillen’s head. I want the Siren bitch’s, and I want it before the poison ends her. So I’m giving her back McQuillen in exchange for her head.”
“And she’ll be so grateful that she’ll cut off her own head and hand it to you,” said Mirrikh.
“I won’t reciprocate your sarcasm,” Bayrose said. “If we execute McQuillen, we’ll only maim Sphinxes. Its arms will grow back. To win this war, we must cut the snake’s head. Of course, our enemy won’t hand us what we request, so I’m going to take everything from them. We’ll set McQuillen free, and he’ll grant me access to Sphinxes. When Lucienne Lam expires, which won’t be long, I need to be there for the harvest.”
Mirrikh guffawed.
“You wouldn’t laugh if you have a higher vision like the founder and I do,” Bayrose said haughtily.
Mirrikh stopped.
“You aren’t the only reckless one,” Bayrose continued. “I can be bolder. Even you said that I have this innocent, sweet look. I once tricked Vladimir. I don’t mind turning it on Kian McQuillen too.”
“McQuillen’s heart is the coldest, hardest rock, and completely black. I doubt anyone could touch him except his Siren queen. Besides, all of
Sphinxes is calling for your blood. They’ve been out hunting you as we speak. Should I remind you that you poisoned their Siren, or do you prefer they do it if they can catch you?”
“I’ll deny it,” Bayrose said. “I’ll convince them I’m also the victim of the founder and my late father. After I rescue McQuillen, he’ll support me. Everything is perception, and perception changes. Sphinxes will view me as the hero who saved their chief. I’ll worm my way into their hearts before Lucienne dies.”
“So this isn’t an impulsive whim. You want to turn fantasy into reality.”
Bayrose gave him a scorching look. “McQuillen delivered himself to our door. Will we ever find a better opportunity?”
“You might fool them with your innocent, pretty looks and a plausible story,” Mirrikh said, “but what makes you think Sphinxes—an emerging nation with battle-hardened warriors—will follow the lead of a sixteen-year-old girl?”
Bayrose’s eyes burned with dark rage. “The Siren is only one year older than me. I’m no less than her. Her background isn’t that different from mine. She inherited the Siren’s seat just as I inherited the elder’s.”
“She fought through fire and blood and defeated twelve bright boy candidates who had a river of powerful supporters and resources, to reach the Siren’s crown when she was only eight years old. At the time, she had only Kian McQuillen.”
“Do you realize the consequences of underestimating and humiliating me, Mirrikh Schwartz?”
“I’m reasoning with you because I care about you.” He’d once told her that she was the only person on this planet whom he cared about and she believed him.
“Then you’ll watch my back when I’m gone.”
“Haven’t I always looked out for you?” He sent her a sidelong, amused glance before turning serious. “You’re now the speaker. Will the founder let you take such a risk?”