by Meg Xuemei X
“How dare you challenge the Siren!” Claude said acidly, clearly regretting that he’d invited Thaddeus to the meeting that would decide the fate and direction of the family.
The reunion had been going well until Thaddeus cut in.
Thaddeus folded his mighty arms across his broad chest and sneered. “I’ve heard of Lucienne’s reputation. They say she’s tough. All I see is a teenage girl dressed up in red gown hosting a tea party.”
“Have respect,” Kian growled. “Or I’ll remove you.”
“That’s exactly what I meant.” Thaddeus said. “If anyone offends Lucienne slightly, a thousand of her devotees would jump out, threatening to throw a punch. But what can she do other than sing a few soothing songs?”
Kian advanced toward Thaddeus, but Lucienne raised a hand to stop him.
“The world is full of hyper types,” Thaddeus continued, “packaged by marketing and publicity. If anyone wants my sword, I’ll need a bit more convincing than pretty words and a pretty face.”
“The Siren doesn’t need to prove anything to you,” Kian said. “She doesn’t even need you.”
“If Lucienne can’t fight her own fight, she’s no better than her brother.” Thaddeus looked at Lucienne, then at the candidates with open contempt. “I, Thaddeus Lam, a superior warrior, don’t serve a phony.” He kicked the chair that blocked him and stormed toward the door.
“Thaddeus Lam,” Lucienne called in a soft voice that carried unmistakable authority.
Thaddeus stopped.
“Who says I don’t like to have a little fun?”
Thaddeus spun to face Lucienne. “Then you accept my—”
“—any fashion you choose,” Lucienne said. “Right here, right now.”
“Then I dare you to hand-to-hand combat,” Thaddeus said with a cruel smile, “to the death, or until one of us surrenders.”
Of course. Combat was Thaddeus’ strongest skill. He sure wasn’t going to let it slip anyone’s mind, particularly at a gathering like this.
If she lost, everyone would know a former candidate beat the Siren. She would suffer more than bad publicity. Thaddeus would erase the humiliation of being defeated by a little girl all those years ago.
The candidates darted their eyes from Thaddeus to Lucienne with rueful expressions. She was six feet two, but he was still half a head taller and twice her size. His build indicated that he spent most of his waking hours working out or in battle.
And everyone knew Thaddeus had trained since he was three years old.
Lucienne might have a little advantage, since the candidates didn’t know she was secretly coached at the same age. However, she couldn’t fit in as many hours of practice as Thaddeus. As the Siren, she had many things on her plate.
“You have no right to challenge the Siren now, Thaddeus Lam,” Claude said venomously. “Lucienne gained her Siren’s title fair and square. She bested every one of us when she was eight years old.”
“The rules favored her at the time,” Thaddeus said.
“Really?” Even Alex was skeptical. “While she was almost an orphan?”
“Are you the one who found the second scroll, Thaddeus?” Dan asked.
“And don’t be a sore loser,” Patrick spat. “Pick on someone your own size, like—” He looked around the candidates, but failed to find anyone who could match up to Thaddeus. His worried eyes relaxed when finding Kian. “Like Kian McQuillen.”
Some candidates nodded at the ideal replacement.
None of them believe I stand a chance against Thaddeus, Lucienne thought.
“Kian McQuillen can be the Siren’s champion.” Claude immediately approved. “It abides to the rule of the duel.”
“I’ll do with whatever the Siren decides,” Kian said. When he looked at her, the hard edge in his eyes immediately softened. And his belief in her warmed Lucienne.
He didn’t want her on the battlefield—a bullet could hit her from the back. But in a controlled environment like this, he never lost his confidence in her.
And they both knew if she wanted to rule the family, she couldn’t back down from a challenge like this.
Claude looked disappointed at Kian’s lack of ferocity, but Thaddeus’ grin broadened to such a degree that Lucienne feared his mouth would never close again.
“I don’t mind facing Kian McQuillen,” Thaddeus said in a forgiving yet mocking tone, “if Lucienne—the Siren—isn’t up to the sport herself.”
Lucienne stepped away from the head table.
With one sweep, she stripped off her gown.
The candidates gasped until they saw she wore a red leather combat top, stretch pants, and hunting boots underneath.
Lucienne tossed her gown to the marble floor, and it glided forward. “Come.” She waved her index finger at Thaddeus.
She had fought the Tibetan warrior monks. She had fought the invincible Seraphen. She did not fear this big muscle in front of her.
Do not underestimate him, a voice rang in her head, or you’ll pay the price.
Thaddeus shoved off his suit coat, tore off his bowtie, and flung them to the floor.
He lunged for Lucienne.
The first thing she noticed was his incredible speed as she barely ducked a powerful jab to her face. The next, Thaddeus’ other hand shot out with a snapping sound, sending her heart pounding.
She had no other options but raised her forearm to parry the cross from the side and instantly felt the impact, as if steel hit her bone.
Thaddeus seemed to have felt nothing. The corner of his lips twisted into a wicked smirk at her surprised look.
The man was stronger than her. Lucienne glanced bitterly at his arm that was as large as a tree trunk.
Thaddeus charged again, not allowing Lucienne to have a split second to counterattack.
His fists were a flurry of motions. His devil’s kicks, combined with his excellent use of knees and elbows, forced her to hop around like a squirrel that wanted to flee but couldn’t.
Lucienne managed to avoid direct hits, but that didn’t last. His next blows seemed to come from all directions, solidly landing beneath her shoulder. Pain shot through her.
Lucienne retaliated with a punch to his gut. He looked like she only slapped him like a naughty girl.
“Not bad, cousin.” Thaddeus flashed an encouraging grin. “Many warriors with more training than you couldn’t keep up three rounds. You’ve passed four.” But he didn’t slow down.
Lucienne staggered back under a series of assaults.
He kept pursuing her, cornering her, and cutting off her escape, like a big cat toying with a mouse.
Sweat streamed from her brow, but she didn’t have time to wipe it off. She attempted to move behind his back—she didn’t have his might, but she could use her smaller size to gain an advantage in speed and litheness.
But Thaddeus made sure not to let her outmaneuver him. Despite his build, he was no less swift than she.
Without a weapon, Lucienne realized, a bit too late, that she wasn’t his match. And she wouldn’t last long.
As she noticed most of his strikes aiming above her neck, she had to put up all her defense to protect her face, which placed her in an even worse position. If her face were bloodied, he could boast that he marred Siren’s face—the first person to achieve that.
Lucienne started to panic.
Use Meridian points and end this match, she advised herself. A win is a win, fair or not. No one will know about it other than Thaddeus, and you can deny his allegation. Kian will back you.
Besides, the duel rules never explicitly said Meridian Points wasn’t allowed. She certainly could take advantage of the loophole since few knew about the lost art.
Do it or suffer the consequence. As Lucienne warred with herself, sweat flowed into her eyes, blurring her sight. The sting made her blink, and that one blink cost her.
She saw the blow coming toward her face, but then it suddenly changed direction. As she dodged it, Thaddeus sava
gely planted his foot on her.
In a flickering second, all she could think was how Seraphen tossed her into the air like a rag doll inside the Rabbit Hole.
A surge of blood, tasting sickeningly sweet and rusty, discharged from her lungs. With every ounce of effort, Lucienne forced it back. She couldn’t allow the candidates to witness this and tell tales of how one of them beat her senseless and spilled her blood. But still, a trickle of blood flowed down the corner of her mouth.
Collapsing to the ground, she glanced around the room quickly. Claude appeared to be having a heart attack. Patrick turned very pale.
Kian looked more than just worried. He must have regretted that he hadn’t taken up the offer as her champion. Fury twisted his face. Lucienne shook her head at him, warning him not to interfere.
The rest of the candidates looked disheartened. There would be no glory for them to be ruled by the Siren who lost a duel with one of them.
They’re certain I’m a lost cause, she thought. But how can I win? I’ve decided not to use Meridian points. Cheating won’t earn me glory. It’ll only haunt me—
The door to the hall flung open. Ashburn bolted in, eyes fuming with dark anger. Black lightning started forming in his fingertips.
He must have watched their fight through the memories of her attacker. He perceived that her aggressor would end her. But if she allowed anyone to save her now, all would be lost.
“Ash,” she hissed, gesturing angrily. “Get. Out.”
Ashburn stayed, his jaw set stubbornly, his fists clenched.
Adam and Oliver charged in, grabbing him. But they immediately let go, yelping in pain. Ashburn must have shocked them. The guards ground their teeth, about to lunge toward him again, but then they stopped cold as they saw Lucienne struggling up from the marble floor.
She knew how she looked. Blood smeared her chin, and half of her pinned-up hair toppled down, pooling wildly around her shoulders.
The guards formed their fists, too, but they held back, looking to Kian for an order.
“I’m impressed.” Thaddeus smirked. “You’re as tough as they said, cousin Lucienne. Not many warriors could take my Lion’s Sweep. Surrender, and we’ll end this. No need to make things messier.”
Humiliation transformed to rage.
As fury burst in Lucienne’s veins, her Siren’s mark flared like lightning rising above a rainstorm. The air shifted. Power rocketed through her, cremating the last residue of fear. It urged her to let loose its aptitude, and Lucienne obliged. Her five senses sharpened to a blinding point.
The Eye of Time had indeed aroused all ancient powers. Her Siren’s mark just caught the last wave.
“Try your rodent’s toenails again,” Lucienne drawled. “I’ll pull them out one by one.”
“You need to be taught a lesson,” Thaddeus said. “I’m ending this once and for all!” He stormed toward Lucienne to claim his final victory.
Lucienne watched Thaddeus rotate a 270-degree kick in the air—his signature act of Taekwondo style. He meant to end her with one last potent strike.
But she had become much faster than he could ever dream of being. He moved in slow motion compared to her. Lucienne leapt into the air and spun behind his right shoulder—a move she couldn’t have executed without her blasting Siren’s power. Her legs split and back-kicked his thick skull.
Thaddeus could not avoid the boot. No one could. He stumbled, hands stretched forward but unable to stop himself from face-planting onto the hard marble floor.
Lucienne hadn’t even used half of the force. If she had, he would have been in a pool of red blood and grey brain.
He was an exceptional warrior. Thaddeus rolled and pulled a knee up, immediately taking in a defensive position, despite the stupor hanging on his face like it would be permanent. He wiped his bleeding nose quickly with the back of his hand and blinked to see what was in front of him. Lucienne’s kick injured his optic nerve. And she hadn’t used Meridian Point.
She no longer needed to.
Claude and Patrick cheered. Alex joined the applause.
“Not bad, cousin,” Lucienne said. “I don’t like things getting messy either, but—” She was done playing nice.
Before he could stand, she dove toward him, using her legs’ driving force to crush his jaw. No one could miss the sound of bone cracking.
Lucienne was satisfied when she heard the gasps from her other cousins—that fancy move was a treat for them, but it did not wound Thaddeus fatally.
She flipped up from the floor effortlessly as Thaddeus dropped backwards, his head hitting the marble. He instinctively rolled away, as far from her as he could.
“Smart move, cousin,” Lucienne said, sauntering toward him like a leopardess approaching her prey. “But you can’t run from me.”
A shriek rose somewhere.
Lucienne swept her gaze around the room. The candidates all held their breath. It then dawned on her that the thrilling scream came from inside her.
The mark was calling for her to kill her cousin. It wanted its first taste of blood. It wanted to display its awakening power.
Lucienne put a hand over her mouth to muffle its cry, even though no one could actually hear it.
Thaddeus pulled out a broken tooth and tossed it in the direction of his cousins, and they ducked. He used an elbow to help himself sit up. His expensive white shirt was stained with his own blood.
“Get up, Thaddeus,” Lucienne ordered. There was no mercy in her voice.
She didn’t want him to surrender.
His dark brown eyes ablaze with rage and hatred, Thaddeus struggled to stand.
“Good boy,” Lucienne said. “I’m impressed. Few can take my Phoenix’s Slap.”
With a curse, Thaddeus charged toward Lucienne again. Though he was unsteady, he still towered over her like a mountain.
A wounded animal’s last resort could be fatal.
Lucienne moved with ease, leveling Thaddeus’ sweeping leg and grabbing his ankle in the air. Half borrowing her opponent’s force, half deploying her explosive power, she tossed the man into the air.
Thaddeus flew in an arc, passed over his cousins’ heads, and fell onto the table.
The candidates jumped away from the table. Then, led by Claude, all of them turned back to Lucienne and applauded vehemently, as if they were giving her an ovation for a great show.
When Lucienne was a little girl, Kian told her the Lams were full of wolves. They respected only the strongest.
With a snarl, Lucienne leapt onto the table, defying gravity, and crouched beside Thaddeus.
Her chocolate eyes weren’t lovely but bloodshot and deadly. She shook her hair free and let it all fall around her shoulders.
Her fist landed on Thaddeus’s face, drawing more blood—blood that excited her power.
The anger and loss and agony bottled up in her chest broke loose. She pounded him again and again. His head rocked back and forth under the assault. His blood flowed freely.
She scanned the rest of her cousins and saw beneath their fascination an unmistakable fear. They were frightened of her now. A healthy dose of apprehension wouldn’t hurt her cause.
End him, her Siren’s mark instructed. Show them how mighty you are.
Lucienne placed her hands on her fallen cousin’s head and jaw, ready to snap his neck.
Then a cold awareness came to her. The power was too strong. It desired to control her.
“Lucia.” Kian was at her side the next second. “Give Thaddeus a chance to surrender.”
She snapped her head toward her mentor, displeased.
Thaddeus didn’t deserve a chance. He tried to dethrone her. She needed to set an example so her cousins would think twice before crossing her again.
Her mark approved of her reasoning.
She turned back to a half-conscious Thaddeus. Even Kian couldn’t stop her. Then she sensed the Lure, rolling to her like a wave of sunbeam.
“Lucia,” Ashburn called. His hand wr
apped around her fingers that gripped her cousin’s jaw. “That’s enough.” His firm voice and soft touch switched something in her.
Lucienne felt a sudden shift inside. The red rainstorm began to leave her veins. “Ash?” He’s beautiful. She tilted her head, regarding him.
The remaining rage and confusion ebbed from her.
“Let it go, Lucia,” Ashburn said, extending his free hand toward her in invitation.
She looked at her own hand, slender, elegant, with blood covering her knuckles. Her cousin’s blood. Her family. Thaddeus slumped on the red table under her grip.
Lucienne jerked her hands back and turned to Ashburn, but saw no disgust in his ice-blue eyes—only compassion and acceptance.
She suddenly understood his fear of the superpower inside him. What else could be harder than to fight one’s inner demons?
Back off, she commanded her mark. Know your place.
A second passed that seemed like an eternity, the mark at last cooling on the nape of her neck.
In the reflection of Ashburn’s eyes, Lucienne watched hers return to a whiskey brown.
Ashburn’s hand was still waiting for her. Holding her breath, Lucienne put her hand in his and watched him pull out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket to wipe the blood off her knuckles.
As she withdrew her hand from Ashburn, she turned back to Thaddeus. “You can surrender, cousin,” she called.
Thaddeus struggled to open his swollen eyes. Taking blows like that, and he could still come back. Lucienne stared down at him in approval. He gazed up at her for a moment. She knew he realized she had wanted to end him, and he hadn’t begged for his life.
“I,” he said, his slit lips breaking into a grin, which turned to grimacing in pain. The former hatred toward her in his eyes vanished like yesterday’s mist, replaced by a warrior’s respect. “I sur… ren… der to… the Siren.”
Claude and the rest of the family cheered, as if the victory were theirs.
What a charming family I have, Lucienne thought wearily. My horrific violence didn’t even bother them. Kian is right. They only worship the strongest.