Nexus Tear (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 2)

by Meg Xuemei X

  Something clicked.

  Vladimir was using all the keywords. It was as if he was sending her a disguised warning about a supernatural weapon.

  Lucienne narrowed her eyes. Could he still be hers while deep in the enemies’ lair? Had he hit her minor operation in Brazil as a smoke screen to gain the Sealers’ trust?

  But the image that had haunted her dream flashed by her—the pure hatred in Vladimir’s eyes as he watched her and Ashburn kiss.

  No, he couldn’t be hers. He hated her. He was a hothead. Attacking her, then bragging about it, was his style. Sending her a messenger had been intended to strike terror into her.

  But the Sealers and their new Czech ally had underestimated her. Sphinxes would strike back harder.

  Lucienne stuffed the beads into her pants’ pocket and ambled back to the messenger.

  “What weapon?” Kian asked. It was the first time he talked to the captive.

  Cooker smirked.

  Kian bent his towering figure toward the messenger, looking at him with his murderously cold eyes.

  People feared Kian for a reason.

  “What weapon?” he asked again.

  The messenger flinched, the muscles in his jaw twitching nervously, but he held his tongue.

  “The Sealers were bluffing,” Lucienne said. She had picked the information from Cooker’s mind. Now she was playing him. “We’re wasting time with this weasel.”

  “It’s called Nexus Tear,” Cooker blurted. “Prince Vladimir said he and the Brotherhood wouldn’t mind letting you know. He can’t wait to blast you to kingdom come!”

  Nexus Tear? A stream of ancient memories whirled around her before ramming into her like a speeding train. It exists. Lucienne concentrated to retrieve more data from her Siren’s mark, but found nothing of solidity, only a broken link. And this wasn’t the first time that she was aware of the mark’s inadequacy, as if it had a leaking pipeline.

  Lucienne laughed in mockery. “I wonder if I should admire the traitor’s optimism or pity him.”

  “Prince Vladimir expected you to ridicule him,” the messenger said eagerly. “He said to tell you, ‘All has been activated, as is Nexus Tear.’”

  Kian sent Lucienne an alarmed glance.

  “Blazek is a jokester.” She looked back at Kian. “And he sent us an extra. Since we don’t collect people like him anymore, we’ll send his boy back.”

  Discrediting her enemies’ message was the way to frustrate them. From peeking into Cooker’s mind, she had known he hadn’t joined the Brazil raid. Her men’s blood wasn’t on his hands. If the Sealers treated him as disposable, then Sphinxes would not dispose of him. “Do not kill the messenger” was tradition, after all.

  Lucienne left the dungeon without looking back.

  Treading along the castle’s stone hallway, Lucienne replayed Vladimir’s message. When the captive said, “All has been activated, as is Nexus Tear,” he’d had absolutely no clue what that meant. The message was a riddle to all but Kian and her.

  Deep in thought, she rotated a bead in her pocket. Vladimir probably hadn’t told the Sealers about the Eye of Time and its connection to all things ancient, including the weapon Nexus Tear.

  What game was Vladimir Blazek playing?

  ~

  The night sky above was a pool of sparkling stars. Below, shadowy waves rolled against the rocky cliff. The calm night solaced Lucienne, yet unsettled her. Then she heard boots scrambling up the stairs toward the rooftop of her white mansion. She knew it was Kian.

  She spun to face him. Kian stopped at the entryway, studying her. Starlight shone behind him. “Hey, kid,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

  Lucienne gestured for him to sit on one of the Biarritz patio chairs. “Shot of vodka?”

  Kian shook his head. “We have a problem.”

  “Nexus Tear or Vladimir?”

  Kian settled in a patio chair. “War has come to our door.”

  Lucienne sat across from him. “Hauk wants to settle an old score.” Her half-brother would use anything to hurt her, and throwing the Vladimir card hurt like bloody hell.

  She shouldn’t have let Hauk walk away years ago when he placed a bounty on her head. She had been merciful, as her grandfather Jed Lam, the former Siren, had asked. But look what being the bigger person had brought her.

  Her enemies had formed the Sealers cult, unified by their fervor to dethrone a female Siren and make the world the domain of man again.

  Vladimir had joined the enemy’s force with a personal vendetta.

  Showing her enemies mercy had weakened her. She would never make that mistake again.

  “The war doesn’t concern me,” Kian said. “I’m worried about Nexus Tear. The Sealers wouldn’t have come forward if they didn’t have the weapon, but—” The crease in his forehead deepened. “—if it’s a lethal weapon, they’d have already attacked.”

  Lucienne watched him try to win a debate against himself, as if winning would make the threat unreal. She had rarely seen him so distressed. Vladimir’s warning had rattled Kian to the bone.

  She counted the hard lines on his forehead. When did those worry lines claim him? He was eighteen years her senior. At thirty-five, he was in his prime and should look it. Worrying about her consumed him.

  “Nexus Tear is nothing. It’s a sham,” she said. “You shouldn’t pay too much mind to it.”

  “It’s not nothing!” Kian slammed his fist onto the wooden table between them. A red clay teapot and its matching teacups clattered. The leftover Dragonwell tea swayed in a cup, its ethereal fragrance floating in the air. The salty wind from the ocean swept away the scent in a second. “We must destroy the weapon. We’ll no longer focus on the Eye of Time. We’ll put all our resources on Nexus Tear, and then open a full-scale war on the Sealers and eliminate every one of them. We—”

  “That’s exactly what the Sealers want,” Lucienne said. “They want to distract us from our true calling. We have enough resources. Two other satellites will be at your disposal, but Dragonfly will always search for Eterne, and we’ll never stop decoding the Eye of Time. The Sealers is but a thorn in our side. We just need to pluck it out.”

  “They aren’t just a thorn, Lucienne,” Kian said. “Pyon and I have combined our resources. He agrees that the Sealers are a powerful force with many nations behind them.”

  Director Pyon was a half-retired lieutenant colonel from the First Chief Directorate of Russia. He would soon join Sphinxes as the head of the Intelligence Division, S.I.D.

  “I don’t care about your vision of Eterne,” Kian continued, “if your safety is under threat—”

  “Kian.” Lucienne laid her slender hand on the rough, powerful fist that had pounded the table. “You’ve kept me alive for seventeen years. No weapon can get me. You won’t let it happen. I don’t want you to worry all the time. You already have crow’s feet.”

  Kian waved his free hand to dismiss her. “I’ll not take this lightly. Neither should you,” he said sternly. But his eyes had warmed. “We’ll find where the Sealers hide.”

  “When we find Blazek, we find them.”

  Kian nodded but didn’t say anything further. Lucienne was surprised at his meek reaction.

  Shouldn’t he punch the table harder, curse Vladimir profusely, and swear to make the Czech boy’s blood flow as freely as a river?

  Even before Vladimir sold them out, Kian never saw eye-to-eye with the traitor.

  “What are you going to do with him when we find him?” she asked.

  Again, Kian didn’t curse Vladimir, though his eyes went cold. “We’ll see,” he said. “I don’t envy what he’s going to face with—your wrath.”

  What about your wrath? Lucienne thought.

  “I want him alive,” she said. “Tell your men whoever takes him out before bringing him to me will have to answer to me, and I have no mercy on those who defy my instructions.”

  “The men knew.”

  “You’ve given an order?”


  Kian nodded.

  He was hiding something from her. Lucienne desperately wanted to know what. It had to do with Vladimir Blazek. But she would never pry into Kian’s mind.

  He was the only person she would never violate.

  ~

  Having implanted a tracker in the messenger without his awareness, Kian’s men sent him back to Brazil and set him loose on the streets of São Paulo.

  Cooker didn’t carry any message from Sphinxes. Lucienne knew exactly how to get back at Vladimir.

  Her silence conveyed absolute contempt for him and the Sealers Brotherhood.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lucienne’s open bedroom was larger than a basketball court and was a world of rich white—vanity, crystal chandelier, and a rug with silver lilies. Her most valued piece was a Chinese Shui-mo painting on the wall Nymph of the Luo River(洛神賦). It told of a doomed romance between a river goddess and a prince.

  “Never open your heart, especially to those closest and dearest to you.” Lucienne sat before the dressing table and pondered her grandfather’s warning. “They’re the ones who have a chance to bleed you dry. They will if you let your guard down for half a heartbeat.”

  Jed had been right.

  Aida, her nanny, stopped combing Lucienne’s hair with an ivory comb and pointed toward the bullet-proof window wall. “What is that?”

  The orange sun hovered over the rim of the ocean until a streak of light and shadow blocked it. The speck grew bigger and flew in the direction of her mansion.

  “Is that the Fury boy?” Aida gasped. “Is he flying? He glows?” She shook her head. “I should get my glasses.”

  “Your eyes are fine,” Lucienne said. “It’s Ash.” Letting out a sigh, she rose to her feet. She hadn’t been a good hostess. The funeral, the Brazilian raid, Vladimir’s betrayal and the imminent war were occupying her mind. Now was the time for her to make up to him for having neglected him.

  She scrambled to the porch that half-faced the ocean. “Ash!” She waved.

  Ashburn pulled his ride near her, floating in the air.

  He wore a gray T-shirt and jeans. He had abandoned his Nirvana attire and now dressed like any regular guy. His face was marble white and perfect. Involuntarily, Lucienne sucked in a breath at his beauty.

  A sudden gust ruffled his silver hair. That small detail told that Ashburn had dropped Spike’s energy field. Lucienne had believed the power was her birthright, but now it was Ashburn’s.

  She suppressed a stab of jealousy and said, “I haven’t seen you lately.”

  “You’ve been busy,” Ashburn said, his gaze raking over her vintage silk gown.

  A blush crept up her cheeks. She had rushed out to catch him and completely forgotten how thin her morning gown was. If she went to change it right now, it would be obvious to him that she had seen the desire in his eyes. She needed to remain inconspicuous.

  Ashburn swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and tore his gaze from her chest and fixed on her face.

  The Lure materialized.

  Lucienne could tell from Ashburn’s hungry, dark look that he felt its strong presence, too.

  It was forming an invisible ring around them, arousing heat from her belly. She grabbed the rail and bit her lower lip, but had no will to flee this temptation.

  “It’s happening again,” Ashburn said.

  “What?” Lucienne murmured dreamily.

  “Like I’m being hit by a jet when I resist the pull,” he said.

  Lucienne’s eyes flew wide at his confession of the negative effect of their supernatural attraction. “Will it ever go away?” she asked.

  “Do you want it to go away?”

  Lucienne opened her mouth, wanting to say yes, until a sudden shot of longing filled her.

  The departure of the Lure would be like the whole world’s pleasure abandoning her for good. It had become a narcotic on which her body depended on. Despite its vile hold on her, it always gave her an incomparable electrifying rush if she didn’t fight it so hard.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked, trying her best to diffuse the tension by sounding businesslike.

  “Some place,” Ashburn said. His pale eyes darkened a shade at her evasiveness.

  “So you flew around the world to advertise yourself?”

  “Do I need permission to go anywhere?”

  “You’re not my prisoner,” Lucienne said. “But your safety is important to me. I have a war coming, in case you didn’t know.” Of course he knew, with all the data in his head. And she didn’t need to tell him how much Vladimir wanted to take him down along with her.

  “I can protect myself,” Ashburn said, and then paused. “And you.”

  “You have powers no one else has,” Lucienne said wearily. “But if the world knows about you, about what you can do, everyone—nations, militaries, and especially my enemies— will tear down everything to hunt you.”

  And they would level Sphinxes to dust.

  He gave her a defiant look. “I think I can handle the whole world as long as you don’t come after me.”

  Shame shaded Lucienne’s brown eyes. The memory of how she sent the Eye of Time to go after him and sunk the syringe into the vein of his neck was still raw.

  “Ash, I won’t hurt you again. You know that.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Ashburn sighed. “But will you ever see me as anything more than a farm boy?”

  He worried about how she perceived him? A smile curled at the corner of her lips. “What’s wrong with being a farm boy?”

  “Opposed to a warrior, a farm boy isn’t manly.”

  He’s comparing himself to Vladimir. An idea floated to her mind. This could be the perfect time to bring it up. He’d hate it, but he might do it if he were in a competitive mood.

  “I’ll not think of you as a farm boy,” she said, tilting her head, “if you’ll accept the challenge.”

  Ashburn’s eyes sparkled. “What’s the challenge?”

  Lucienne evened her breath. “We’ll need to run some tests on you. You promised to help me break the bond, so I’ll have the freedom… to choose.”

  A sudden irony stared her in the face. She didn’t need to choose anymore. The Czech traitor had lost her forever.

  Her eyes darkened for a flickering second. “Help me decode you—no, the TimeDust. You told me you have a bio database on almost every human on Earth, living or dead, but not yourself. The tests will help you understand yourself, too.”

  “I knew it would come to this,” Ashburn said. “You’re Lucienne Lam. You have to know everything. You can't resist your nature. Haven’t you already ordered your scientists to prepare for testing me?”

  He had said “your nature” with spite. Lucienne's face turned a deep shade of red. She could shield her private thoughts from him, but her actions still spoke. As a living encyclopedia of the world’s memories, he often had impressions of her through others’ minds.

  “I won’t force you to do anything,” she said. “I made that promise and I’ll keep it.”

  “If I agree to your challenge,” he said, resignation gleaming in his ice-blue eyes, “I want something in return.”

  Lucienne’s heart leapt. What would he ask? Would he demand her affection now that Vladimir was out of the picture? She didn't know if she could give him what he wanted. The Czech traitor had shattered her heart, and she hadn't had time to patch up all the broken bits.

  “What do you want?” she asked in a husky voice.

  “Relax,” Ashburn said. Amusement replaced the calculation in his eyes.

  “I'm always relaxed,” Lucienne said, leaning forward to rest her hands atop the rail to show her carefree pose.

  Ashburn’s smoldering gaze swung to her breasts again. Lucienne at once realized the neckline of her gown had opened. He could see everything, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Blushing furiously, she straightened. Her hands folded across her chest to half cover herself and half show her ind
ignation.

  Ashburn dropped his gaze and exhaled slowly. “I can hear your racing heartbeat.”

  Lucienne arched an eyebrow.

  “I can’t have your memories. You hide your thoughts well,” he said, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “So I’ve practiced and developed this new ability. If I focus hard enough, I can sense the changing rhythm of your heartbeat. That’s how I detect your emotions.”

  Damn him! Besides fighting the Lure, she now had to be on guard at all times and control her body’s reactions whenever he was around.

  While Lucienne brooded on this gloomy prospect, Aida appeared behind her with a thick robe in a hand. The nanny covered Lucienne. “Young lady, you don’t want to catch cold.” Aida usually called her “my sweetest girl.” When she addressed her as “young lady,” it was to chastise her. Having clothed Lucienne, she gave Ashburn a hard stare, as if he had taken advantage of a naïve girl.

  Faint pink appeared on Ashburn’s face.

  “Thank you, Aida,” Lucienne said. “I’m warm now.”

  Aida exited after throwing Ashburn another look of warning.

  “I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side,” Ashburn murmured.

  Lucienne smiled. Her thoughts flitted to Vladimir. He always tried to rile up her nanny, as if they were constantly competing against each other for her attention. Her smile shrank away at the invasion of Vladimir’s ghost.

  “I won't ask something you can’t give,” Ashburn said.

  “Then ask away.”

  “I want to see your secret chamber, unedited. Which means now. And I want to take a look at the Eye of Time while it’s inside the Twilight Water.”

  Ashburn detested the Eye. He tried to stay as far away from it as possible. What had changed? Suspicion rose in Lucienne like a puff of bad perfume, followed by an insane possessiveness toward the Eye of Time. “You said you wanted to have nothing to do with it.”