by Meg Xuemei X
“Empty Space and Black Moth have been trying to breach our networks. I’ve been setting up a delicate trap for these two for a year and a half now, but they’re foxes. They’re among the best, but I’m better. They don’t know that I’m the invincible White Noise. Long story short, my diligence and patience paid off. I followed their trails back to their lairs last night.”
Lucienne’s eyes narrowed. “You think they associate with Blazek?”
Ziyi looked up at Lucienne. “I believe they all work for the Sealers.”
Finally they had a breakthrough. “You’re my ace, Ziyi.”
“I let Blazek go, and he came back to bite you.”
“You trusted him, as I did,” Lucienne said. “I couldn’t chain him to the desk if he wanted to leave. So if he wants revenge on me, I—”
“He won’t get a chance,” Ziyi hissed. “I’ll bleed him personally.”
“You can’t stand blood. You can’t even kill a mosquito.”
“That jerk changed me. Anyone who hurts you hurts me ten times more.”
“And anyone who wants to hurt you will have to get through me,” said Lucienne.
Ziyi looped her hand around Lucienne’s arm. “Blazek is hiding in a submarine in international waters. That’s what I found through Black Moth. I haven’t nailed the coordinates yet. The submarine is on the move all the time.”
No wonder Kian and his team couldn’t get a fix on the Sealers’ headquarters. For three years, they had been chasing a ghost. Not anymore. Sphinxes would search every inch of the ocean to fish out Vladimir and his Sealers friends.
Lucienne kissed Ziyi’s cheek. “What am I going to do without you?”
Ziyi beamed. “Not too much. I’m your ace.”
The girls reached a café at the castle’s ward.
The maître d' caught a glimpse of Lucienne and rushed out to pull open the door for her. “Lucille,” he called in French. “Café au lait, comme d'habitude?”
“And red tea for my friend,” Lucienne answered in French. “She likes cream and a lot of sugar.”
“Croissants. Blueberries and bananas on top of yogurt for us both,” Ziyi said in English, then yawned from getting up too early to watch Ashburn fence.
CHAPTER SIX
Lucienne hopped on a windsurf board, hoping windsailing would clear her mind as fencing had failed to.
Jed once said, “The Siren must thrive in the bleakest climate.”
She had once thrived as a little girl. She overcame the impossible to become the first female Siren in an eon. She had achieved more than any predecessor and obtained the Eye of Time.
But then everything went backwards—the Eye of Time chose Ashburn, Vladimir turned on her, and the Sealers were bringing war to her door with Nexus Tear—a weapon tailor-made to end her.
Lucienne grabbed the rig and pulled, feeling at one with the sea, but she knew her solitude was an illusion. Her naval fleet rested at the border of the Sphinxes water. Further in the international waters lurked her nuclear submarine.
Without the coastal defense around, Kian would never have allowed her to go this far. Lately, he had become obsessed with destroying Nexus Tear and keeping her inside the ivory tower. But he wasn’t in Sphinxes now.
He was in international waters searching for Duncan and Vladimir.
The wind was coming, good for tacking—a skill Vladimir taught her. Lucienne sailed the board right into it, placed a hand on the mast, and leaned the sail back toward the tail. She made a successful 270º turn and was pleased with herself until she saw a sailboat and two motorboats cutting through waves directly toward her from the distant shore.
Her guards found her. She had ditched them this morning. Kian had dismissed all of her old guards and replaced them with a new platoon, which made it impossible for her to charm them to get her way—they were too busy trying to impress Kian and not to be fired.
The three boats approached Lucienne.
Captain Blare Marloes stood on the deck of the Witch, a Neel 45 sail boat, watching Lucienne with the level of disapproval shown to a spoiled teenage girl.
Really? Lucienne sent Marloes a glare of resentment. Must you bring the Witch?
Vladimir used his trust fund to buy this sailboat for her seventeenth birthday. He loved its super-fine bows and roachy mainsail and named it Witch. “She sails like a witch, kotě.” Kotě was a Czech word for babe.
Marloes, a thirty-eight-year-old veteran, was like a female version of Kian. The only difference was her hard eyes didn’t radiate warmth when they fell upon Lucienne.
“Shouldn't I at least get to pick my guards?” Lucienne had demanded.
“We’ve gone through this,” Kian said with a weary look, as if she were wearing him down. “With this Nexus Tear targeting you, you’re no safer than when you were in the Red Mansion. So stop fighting me when you have to sacrifice a little convenience.”
“A little convenience? I had to give up my morning jog. Do you know how ridiculous it looked to have a squad of armed guards stomping behind me?”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“And that captain almost wants to move the guards into my bedroom!”
“Then she’s doing her job.”
“Get rid of her. I’ll take the rest.”
“No,” Kian said, and walked away.
The boats now formed a protective ring around Lucienne, barely giving her enough room for her idea of wild surfing. The captain had intentionally wrecked her windsailing.
Lucienne pulled the sail, heading toward the shore. She didn’t get the storm out of her system. It was now whirling inside her. Until a familiar energy pulsed through the air.
Ashburn. She looked up as an arrow of light shot down from the sky.
The guards shouted warnings. Two boats sped toward the pillar of light, training their weapons on it.
The Witch sailed toward Lucienne.
“It’s just Ashburn!” she yelled, gesturing toward the guards as Spike dropped beside her. Its force created a mild whirlpool, overturning the sailboard and tossing Lucienne into the sea.
She broke the surface as three guards swam toward her like those California beach lifeguards.
Righting her sailboard, she held the mast, balanced herself on the deck, and maneuvered the boom. The board skimmed over the waves.
“You have a penchant for making a dramatic entrance, Ash,” she said, blinking sea water out of her eyes. Her sulky mood vanished at the sight of him.
“Sorry for the surprise. Spike has been naughty,” Ashburn said, letting the machine sail above the waves beside her. “I was looking for you.”
She had been avoiding him for three days now, ever since a new emotion arose in her after fencing with him. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” she said. “I’ve been busy.”
“I thought you no longer needed me.”
Was he going to leave her? Anxiety hit her like acid rain. “What made you think that?” she asked in alarm. “Are you not comfortable here? Did Ziyi and Oliver neglect your needs? Or is the food not up to your standard? I gave the chef your mother’s recipes. I promise I’ll look into these things myself.” She sailed closer to him, ready to grab him if he planned to take off.
“None of those,” he said. “I can’t help you with anything. I’m useless here.”
“Ash, you have no idea how much I need you,” she said. “Now more than ever.”
Ashburn looked surprised and pleased. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” she said. Worries ebbed from her. He was just as insecure as she was and that made her feel much better. She had discovered another weakness she could exploit when necessary.
Ashburn gestured at the guards around them. “I don’t think you need me as your bodyguard.”
Lucienne gave him a sour look.
The guards who had jumped from the boats were swimming back. Less than ten yards away, Marloes stood on the Witch’s deck looking relieved yet annoyed.
Lucienne intended to
ignore her captain. Since Kian refused to remove Marloes, maybe her icy demeanor would make the woman warrior quit.
Her logical mind admitted that she was partly to blame for her awkward relationship with her guards. She refused to warm up to them. Vladimir’s betrayal and the deaths of Orlando and her warriors had changed her. She put up a wall now, shutting out her people.
Jed warned her that the attachment could cause unnecessary pain, and he was right again. Had she not gotten so close to her guards, their deaths would not hurt so much.
“How did you know I was here, Ash?” she asked. “Did you find me through the guards’ memories?”
“Sort of,” Ashburn said. “I put a tag on you.”
“A tag?”
“Any memory concerning you rises to the top of my database.”
“Are there a lot of people on your list?” she asked.
“Only you.”
Lucienne arched an eyebrow.
“It takes time to sort out an individual’s memories from zillions’,” Ashburn said. “I’m on a learning curve. If I can’t get rid of TimeDust, then at least I should put it to some use.”
Lucienne swiveled her eyes around, calculating what kind of use she could put it to.
“Whenever you move your eyes like that,” he said, “I know you’re scheming.”
“I’m not scheming.” Lucienne blushed. “I don’t scheme. I plan.”
“Okay, you’re planning,” Ashburn said with a smile. “And that always scares me.”
“Want to try my sailboard?” She changed the subject. “I can show you the ropes. It’ll be fun.”
“I have mine,” he said.
Spike dissembled and reassembled, transforming into a translucent sailing board with rig, mast, sail, and boom. The guards on the boats let out awed cries. Ashburn grabbed the boom and sailed beside Lucienne.
“It defied the law of physics,” Lucienne asked. “How?”
“The manipulation of atoms,” Ashburn said. “Thoughts over matter. You know the concept.”
“Marvelous.” Lucienne’s awe was mingled with bitterness.
She wanted everything he had. And what he had reminded her of everything stolen from her.
Seraphen’s scorn resonated in her ears, “The Eye of Time was never your birthright and never will be. Everything is his. It’s never about you. It’s always about him. And you took what’s rightfully his. You are his downfall.”
“Spike is one of the few good things the Eye of Time left for me,” Ashburn sighed. “But I’d give it up in a heartbeat if I could remove that thing in me.”
I wouldn’t, Lucienne thought. “May I try on Spike?”
Ashburn hesitated until Lucienne tilted her head. “Afraid I’ll steal it?”
“Spike only responds to me and—Seraphen.”
Lucienne caught sorrow flashing through his darkened eyes at the mention of his protector. She had killed Seraphen, leaving the true connection between him and Ashburn forever locked in the dead creature’s head.
“It might respond to me, too,” Lucienne said.
Seraphen mentioned she was the other part of the equation. According to the prophecy, the Eye of Time would kill anyone who touched it except for the Destined One, yet it spared her when she first laid a finger on it.
Ashburn sighed, then said, “Sure, why not.”
She knew he wanted to test whether Spike would respond to her.
“In exchange, I’ll sail your board,” he added.
“That’s only fair,” she said. “Let me find you a wetsuit first.” She darted her eyes toward the Witch.
Vladimir should have a spare wetsuit on the boat. The traitor would hate letting Ashburn wear his wetsuit, which was a good reason to let him.
“I don’t need it.” Ashburn pulled his sweatshirt over his head and threw it toward the Witch. It landed on the boat’s deck.
Lucienne couldn’t help but stare at his naked torso. He was beautifully formed, his every muscle manly. She wasn’t the type whose heart would flutter at a pretty boy, but his sexiness exuded power. His skin, its texture, the proportions of his body—she hadn’t seen anyone finer. How would it feel to run her fingers over his firm abdomen and trace the curve of his hips? She inhaled. Would he shudder at her touch, too?
Stop it! she screamed at herself. When did she start ogling a half-naked man just because he had a nice body? She hoped she could blame the Lure, and on cue, it came, eagerly responding to her desire.
It spun around her, put a leash on her, and yanked her toward Ashburn.
Lucienne jerked back on her board, her knuckles turning white on the boom. You’ll not treat me like this! she hissed. If I go to him, it will be my choice, not yours.
Ashburn went to snatch off his trousers.
“Hey!” Lucienne blushed furiously. “You don’t need to remove those.” His exposed torso was already too much; she didn’t think she could handle a nude Ashburn, or worse, Ashburn wearing his thong.
“Relax,” Ashburn said. “I won’t do anything atrocious.” His pants came off. He flung them toward the sailboat, and they landed next to his sweatshirt.
Captain Marloes, standing behind the steering wheel, didn’t look amused.
Lucienne exhaled with relief. Ashburn was wearing swimwear. She tore her eyes from his strong legs. “You—you’re prepared.” That was all she could mutter.
“Always,” he said. “I’m living in your beach town.” He gestured at her sailboard. “Shall we make the exchange?”
Her heart leapt. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on the machine that could rearrange atoms. But what if it didn’t respond to her? What if it humiliated her in front of Ash and the guards?
It was worth the risk. She needed to know if she could use Spike. If so, it might be another advantage to exploit.
Her fear lessened when she caught a jolt of panic in Ashburn’s eyes. He isn’t much of a swimmer. He once dove into the waterfall to save Violet when the Nirvana prince pushed the redhead off the cliff. He was wheelchair-bound for nearly six years after the jump until the Eye of Time healed him.
Without Spike, Ashburn was vulnerable. All the more reason to test him. “If you sink,” she said, half playfully, half encouragingly, “I’ll rescue you.”
Ashburn raised an eyebrow. “I might not be the one who needs to be saved.”
Lucienne slipped off her board, then watched Ashburn’s muscles grow taut as he drew a deep breath and dove into the water. In a few strokes, she reached Spike. Grabbing its board, she mounted it.
Ashburn climbed onto Lucienne’s sailing board, struggling to balance himself.
She hid a smug smile. Traditional surfing wasn’t as easy as he thought, even though he had TimeDust assist him. The sport only looked effortless when you saw the pros handling the waves.
Perhaps she should show him—
Suddenly, Spike spun, intending to throw her off. Lucienne grabbed the boom clamp and harness lines just in time. Her left foot hooked tightly in the foot straps. Spike stopped wheeling, but then bumped up and down like a wild horse. Lucienne clutched the boom and luff, resolved to stay on.
“Spike,” Ashburn shouted, “stop it!”
Spike jerked up and soared into the air, still in sailboard form.
Lucienne kicked it hard. She knew she couldn’t hurt it, but she needed the sentient machine to know that she didn’t fear it. Her strong will would control it.
“Spike,” Ashburn called in a panic, “do not hurt her!”
Lucienne could barely hold on as the machine rocketed into the sky.
The guards shouted frantically, but no one knew how to deal with a crazed machine that disregarded laws of physics. They couldn’t shoot it either, not with Lucienne on board wrestling with it—if that would even help.
“Boy, call off your toy!” Marloes screamed at Ashburn, leveling her gun at him.
The captain was quick and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Ash. That was one reason Kian hired her in the firs
t place. If Lucienne had brought Marloes with her instead of Orlando and Duncan to the Ghost House the day Seraphen almost killed her, Marloes would have refused to wait outside the door. She would never let Lucienne go inside the building alone.
But Lucienne would never allow anyone to threaten Ashburn, even to protect her.
Struggling to keep her grip on the boom, she pulled beads from her wrist. She never went anywhere without a weapon.
A bead flew down toward Marloes but missed—Lucienne had never missed before, but she was firing from high in the air on a moving target.
Fear and frustration choked her as she saw that the captain’s finger was about to squeeze the trigger.
“If anyone hurts Ashburn,” Lucienne shouted, “I’ll take your life!” But that wouldn’t stop Marloes.
Luckily, the bead that hit a railing beside Marloes startled her and bought Lucienne time. Lucienne’s second and third beads found Marloes before she fired a shot.
The captain sank to the deck, her gun dropped. Lucienne’s Meridian points held her immobile.
“Spike, I’ll deactivate you!” Ashburn cursed. Panic laced his voice. “Let her down!”
Spike climbed higher, then turned upside down, retracting the rig, mast, sail and boom. All that was left was a translucent board. It obeyed Ashburn’s order literally and let its rider down.
From twenty feet in the air, with nothing to hold onto, Lucienne plummeted toward the ocean.
Ashburn swam toward where Lucienne was going to hit the water.
Several of her guards jumped into the water again. A few ring buoys were thrown from the boats.
The impact knocked the air out of Lucienne’s lungs. Cold water stung her face. Her midnight hair flew up in front of her eyes as she fell deeper under water.
She saw Ashburn dog-paddling toward her from above. Holding her breath, she swam up to meet him. He was close now, so close that she could see his ice-blue eyes. They were young and ancient at once.
She gazed into the timeless portal that promised unknown wonders. She had once glimpsed a fragmented landscape of his mind. If only she could bypass the minefield of a zillion trapped consciousness, living and dead, to find the hidden treasure there.