by Meg Xuemei X
Ashburn’s eyelids fluttered. “Lucia?” he called.
Lucienne swallowed, her hand tightening on the necklace. “Yes?”
“I recognize your perfume.”
“I don’t wear perfume.” She hoped he wouldn’t hear her erratic heartbeat and detect the traitorous ideas in her head.
Ashburn inhaled, as if he couldn’t get enough of her scent. “It’s your natural scent.”
Seraphen once ridiculed Ashburn for being addicted to her aroma—the perfume of sweet night blossoms.
Lucienne put the charm back under her dress just as Ashburn opened his eyes. The gold chain swayed, the locket bumped against her cleavage, and the Eye of Time turned silent.
Ashburn reached his hand toward Lucienne, smiling. His lips were dry and cracked; his eyes bleary. And yet, he was still striking.
Lucienne edged closer to him to put her hand in his. He brought her palm to his lips and brushed a quick kiss on it, as if afraid she would jerk her hand back.
The energy rippled around them like a wash of nightly light caressing her, promising her an enchanting, sensual dream.
“Ash—” Lucienne said weakly.
Lure or not, she didn’t care anymore. It had become senseless depriving herself of carnal pleasure. Vladimir wasn’t coming back to her. And even if he hadn’t betrayed her, things could never have worked between them. They couldn’t have physical love. Ash was the only male for her, and he was gorgeous and powerful. And he was right here.
Lucienne sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his sweat-drenched hair from his forehead. Even his hair was like hot, dry straw. How long could he hang in there?
The worst for him would be to let the Eye of Time brand him a new Ashburn Fury. Didn’t the scholar and ruler part of her want that? But she would try another way first, for his sake. For his trust in her.
“I’ll find you a cure,” she said, her voice choked by his suffering and her fear of losing him. “I promise.”
“Don’t leave me,” he said.
His undisguised, desperate need for her knocked down the final wall. “Ash,” she whispered, her fingers tracing his burning cheek. “We’ll take a chance with each other. We’ll go slow, and we’ll beat TimeDust together.”
His eyes were afire with silver, but they soon glazed over in exhaustion. He sank into semi-unconsciousness as she bent over him, pecking a kiss on his cracked lips.
“… Flaming data… fire dark… Lucia… wings of death….” Ashburn murmured in a fever dream.
“The boy’s delirious,” Dr. Wren said, startling her.
Lucienne straightened. She’d forgotten about everyone else in the room except for Ashburn.
“Dr. Wren, have a vial of Ashburn’s blood ready,” she ordered, then turned to her guards. “We’re going to Chechnya.”
Chechnya of North Caucasus, a lovely, fascinating region located in Southern Russia, was a war zone and home to the lawless. Schmidt hid in one of the most dangerous regions in the world.
Let me out, Siren, the Eye of Time whimpered inside the golden locket.
Lucienne gave one last look at Ashburn before leaving the room, determinedly ignoring the voice.
CHAPTER NINE
Flame III flew across Chechnya in cloaked mode and landed in front of Schmidt’s bio laboratories.
Duncan and Marloes had also joined the team. When Lucienne had entered Flame III, they were already inside, even though she had given explicit instructions to leave them behind, especially the captain, who was off-duty.
The laboratory was a series of two-story domes amid the ruins of a war zone. The sun blazed red above a giant, black skull on top of the center lab. Clusters of tulips spread over the bank of the canal like a river of blood.
Schmidt lives up to his reputation, Lucienne thought. He found a surviving space between war and peace, poetry and creepiness.
Sphinxes’ warriors stepped off Flame III, weapons drawn. She had told them this would be a friendly visit, but the men insisted on following war protocol.
The team divided into three groups. The first group guarded Flame III. The second group, all elite marines, spread out over the lab buildings to guarantee the Siren’s safe exit.
And the last group, which included Marloes, Adam, Duncan, Finley, and twelve members of a special task force, accompanied Lucienne into the lab.
Holding Lucienne’s fingers in his tender hands, Dr. Schmidt welcomed her into his office. He wore a white lab coat with an impeccable red tie. He was a small man with slick hair and an air of superiority.
Although the infamous geneticist kept murmuring it was such an honor to receive the Siren of the Lams, Lucienne didn’t feel an ounce of authentic warmth from him. Pretense might fool others, but didn’t get pass the Siren’s hyper-awareness.
She peeked into Schmidt’s intelligent, cruel eyes, trying to do a quick mind-prodding, but she couldn’t penetrate his thoughts. She glanced at the metal helmet on his head.
Other than Ashburn, no one else knew about her power. Vladimir might have suspected it after the Tibetan Lama hinted at her hidden power, but he had never dwelled on the subject at length.
Did the doctor wear the helmet to shield himself against her? Uneasiness chimed like a bell, but Lucienne turned it off. Her warriors were at every exit. She informed the German-born geneticist of her unexpected visit only fifteen minutes before landing. If he pulled a stunt, her men would snuff out his life in a heartbeat. He should know better than to mess with her warriors.
“I hope you don’t mind my men’s caution, Dr. Schmidt,” she said as they carried out a security sweep in the lab.
“Not at all,” Schmidt said. “You’re the Siren, and my lab is in a war zone.”
Lucienne presented Schmidt a vial of Ashburn’s blood sample. “I need a second opinion, Dr. Schmidt,” she said. “Your state-of-art machines can certainly decipher the genetic chemical letters accurately and quickly.” She didn’t need to remind Schmidt that his DNA machines came from the Lam’s funding.
She’d had a fallout with Jed on continuing to support Schmidt. She didn’t see what spending money on a monster like Schmidt had to do with a ‘farsighted vision.’ When her rule started, she cut the financial aid for Schmidt. Now she was glad she hadn’t completely cut ties with him. Even evil had its uses. And for Ashburn, she would have to dance with a great evil while the devil called the tune.
“For you, Miss Lam,” Schmidt said, “anything.” He was soft-spoken, but his cultivated voice gave Lucienne the creeps. “I was hoping we could have a cup of tea and catch up before proceeding with business.”
“I’ll take a rain check on that cup of tea, Dr. Schmidt,” Lucienne said. “I’m in a rush.”
“I understand.” Schmidt nodded. “But darling, don’t exhaust yourself with all work. A girl your age should have more fun.”
Her impeccable business suit, polite manners, and military entourage hadn’t impressed him.
Let him underestimate me. Lucienne gestured. “Shall we go ahead, Dr. Schmidt?”
“With pleasure, Miss Lam.” Schmidt led Lucienne to a genetic laboratory that had depressing gray ceilings.
Her soldiers followed.
Lucienne watched Schmidt closely as he conducted sample purification. Her men didn’t let the doctor out of their sight either. Schmidt, however, didn’t seem fazed, as if he had been under military supervision his whole life.
“We’ll leave no record of the test in your system after you’re done, Dr. Schmidt,” Lucienne said.
“Certainly, Miss Lam,” Schmidt said. “But would you mind telling me the purpose of the test so I can be more useful?”
“We’ll discuss it after you have the results,” said Lucienne, observing the doctor as he moved toward a genetic analyzer.
Dr. Wren and Christophersen had conducted every conceivable test on Ashburn and had his biochemical, molecular profile and cellular evaluation data. But unlike Schmidt, Lucienne’s doctors never furthered their research
on the field of mutated genes.
The screen displayed an illustration of two sets of double helixes overlaying each other like twisted ladders. One set indicated the primary double-stranded molecules. The other looked like its shadow.
Lucienne noticed the bored look in Schmidt’s eyes give way to thrill and hunger.
Humans didn’t have a shadow double helix. A simple fact hit Lucienne. Ashburn’s unique genetic code was the reason the Eye of Time chose him instead of her. She heard it whisper to Ashburn when he shared with her his first encounter with the Eye, The code is in your DNA.
Was Ashburn’s heritage locked inside the Eye of Time?
“We shall discuss this in private,” Schmidt said.
Lucienne nodded and followed Schmidt back to his office. At the door, she told her team to wait outside.
“Miss Lam,” Duncan said, “this is against protocol. I’m sorry, but we can’t let history repeat itself.” He was referring to when he and Orlando let her enter the Ghost House alone. “I’d rather take a bullet from you,” he held her hard stare and said softly, “than get shot by Chief McQuillen.”
Schmidt chuckled. “I wouldn’t have the heart or the nerve to harm the Siren. But what I’ll discuss isn’t for anyone’s ears.” He tapped his helmet. “How about having your guards do a sweep in my office before our talk?”
Lucienne nodded at Finley.
Finley and Adam darted into Schmidt’s spacious, windowless office decorated like the Oval Office at the White House. After a thorough check, the men didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than a sensor on the wall.
“What is the sensor for, Dr. Schmidt?” Finley asked.
“It’s an alarm in case anyone trespasses,” Schmidt said. “A little caution on my side doesn’t hurt.”
“Do you mind showing me how it works?” Finley asked.
Schmidt displayed it. It was indeed an alarm sensor. “Leave no chances,” the doctor said in approval. “Your guards are of excellent quality, Miss Lam.”
“I put my life in their hands,” Lucienne said and turned to her warriors. “We leave in an hour.”
“They’ll stay outside.” Marloes stepped up and looked straight at Lucienne. “I go wherever you go. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
She would have to shoot the captain to shake the woman off. Lucienne regarded Marloes. Could she trust Marloes with Ashburn’s secrets?
Over the past two months, she had battled the captain, and in four out of five rounds the woman got the upper hand. During one of their conflicts, Marloes said, “I’m bound to you, Siren. I did not come to make you like me; I came to keep you safe.”
“I did not ask you to come!” Lucienne said.
“Too late now,” Marloes said with equal resolve.
When Lucienne first pried into Marloes’ head, she knew the captain already knew part of her secret.
Marloes had guarded her mother, Jekaterina. After Jekaterina took flight and left Lucienne with her negligent father, Marloes kept an eye on baby Lucienne until Jed Lam came to bring his granddaughter to the Red Mansion.
As resourceful as Kian was, he didn’t know this about Marloes, making the old saying ring true: “No one can truly, completely know another person.”
Marloes’ tie with her mother was the main reason Lucienne resented the captain, whose presence constantly reminded her of her abandonment. No matter how deeply she buried the hurt, it still bruised her when it surfaced.
Lucienne didn’t answer Marloes, but entered the office after Schmidt. Marloes immediately fell into step beside her.
The men relaxed. They knew how good Marloes was. The captain surely could handle the old man. Duncan and Adam withdrew and stationed themselves outside the office. Finley led the rest of the team as they spread out further for surveillance.
The door swung closed by itself.
Marloes looked sharply at Schmidt.
“Relax,” Schmidt said softly. “Miss Lam will need some privacy.”
The doctor sat behind his white oak desk and gestured toward two leather chairs several feet away. “Shall we begin?” he asked.
Lucienne occupied one of the chairs.
Marloes stood close to Lucienne, facing Schmidt, her eyes never leaving him.
“Display the specimen’s data,” the doctor commanded.
Ashburn’s DNA structure rotated in a hologram between Schmidt and Lucienne.
Lucienne made a mental note to pay attention to Schmidt’s voice commands. She would end him before he finished a word of threat.
“Who is the subject with the unique double double helixes?” Schmidt asked casually, but Lucienne detected his extreme curiosity.
“He’s a subject of mine,” said Lucienne.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Schmidt watched her. “Humans have only one set of DNA; this specimen has two, and he’s not a chimera. I’m sure you already knew that much.”
“Is it the result of mutation?” Lucienne asked, her face a blank mask.
“Mutations would show extra strands,” Schmidt said.
“Then an abnormality?”
“Not abnormal, but superior,” Schmidt said.
She didn’t need the doctor to inform her Ash was advanced, but how could he tell?
As if reading her mind, Schmidt added, “I have the world’s only quantum genetic decipher.”
Paid out of my pocket, Lucienne thought.
“The double double helixes appear equally original,” the doctor continued.
She had thought one was a shadow, but was clearly wrong. “Can you trace the genetic origin?”
“I have more than a billion DNA data, but there’s nothing like this, not even close,” Schmidt said. “The first genetic model is obviously human. The second is neither human, nor animal. The supremacy lies in the second molecular structure.”
“I’d like to see the bloodwork, too, Dr. Schmidt,” Lucienne said. “I want to know if the subject has some flaws or a virus encoded in its genes.”
As they spoke, a palm-sized glass interface on the desk chimed.
“Present,” Schmidt ordered, and a chart combined with figures and illustrations appeared beside the rotating double double helixes.
Lucienne stared at the medical terms, numbers, and percentages. She had no idea what they meant.
“The subject’s blood type is matchless to anyone in the world,” Schmidt declared.
Lucienne felt her pulse racing. Her blood type was also matchless, as were all of the Sirens’ before her. The Sirens’ biological data was forever a secret, except to their family doctors. Could Ashburn’s blood type match hers?
But neither Dr. Wren nor Dr. Christophersen found Ashburn’s blood type unusual. Had Ashburn blocked the test results? Then how did Schmidt manage to get the data? Ashburn’s power must have been weakened while he had this fever so it couldn’t reach Schmidt’s distant laboratory.
Thinking of his fever, fear shot into Lucienne. What if when she returned, he already—
“The specimen’s blood type doesn’t fall into an ABO category,” Schmidt continued. “It’s so unique that there’s no definition.”
“What if the specimen ever needed a blood transfusion?”
Schmidt shook his head. “Unless he finds his own kind.” His eyes sparkled with hunger. “How many specimens like him do you have?”
“One, so far,” said Lucienne, reluctant to reveal any truth about Ashburn.
“His genes are like a god’s.”
Lucienne laughed to cover her disquiet. “A figure of speech, Dr. Schmidt?”
Schmidt looked at Lucienne piercingly. “The specimen doesn’t have an aging cell.”
“You’re saying the specimen is immortal?”
“He can be.”
“Immortality is a myth.” But did the Eye of Time give Ashburn immortality?
“Is it?” Schmidt said. “The specimen has proved otherwise. I believe some humans, though very rare, still carry advance
d ancient genes.”
She needed to throw the doctor off the track. “Without aging cells,” Lucienne shrugged, “the specimen won’t grow up. He would stay a baby, or a child.”
“He’s eighteen years old,” said Schmidt, watching Lucienne. “But his bio-aging clock has just stopped. He’ll not grow any older.”
Lucienne’s heart started beating out of rhythm, but she kept her expression blank. “Impossible,” she said flatly.
“We mortals are very limited.” Schmidt paused, as if caught up in his own thoughts. “We’re but the shadows of fast wings passing by the ground. We don’t know a damn thing.”
“Did you find a virus in the specimen’s blood?” Lucienne asked eagerly, then instantly caught her slip. She quickly adopted an apathetic tone. “Despite what you said about his god-like genes, is it possible the specimen’s genetic code is flawed. Could he have an illness, like a fever, chickenpox, or a migraine? Even gods have weaknesses.”
“I don’t think it’s possible the specimen will ever—” Schmidt stopped himself, but Lucienne had the answer already. That was all she needed to know. Ashburn had never gotten sick before, just as his parents and Violet told her. Which meant Ashburn was right. No doctors or medicines could help him. His fever was not exactly a physical illness.
“I can see you need a solution, possibly a cure for the specimen,” Schmidt said, his eyes flickering in devious delight. “Does his fever or headache linger? What else? I can help, Miss Lam. If you present the specimen in my lab, I promise I’ll dissect him and find his genetic secrets in no time.”
A sudden rage clouded Lucienne’s vision. The horror stories of Schmidt using humans for experiments flashed in the back of her mind. She knew the stories were real. How dare this pig think of Ash as his lab rat? She would cut off his hands before they had a chance of touching Ash.
Schmidt must have seen the formidable fierceness in Lucienne’s eyes, but he remained untouched. He smirked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
At that moment, Lucienne made the decision to erase this evil from the earth. It might not be today, but it must be done. Besides, the doctor knew too much.