by Meg Xuemei X
All because of your big mouth! Lucienne thought furiously. She pushed a big man out of the way. Taking advantage of the momentum and the space she gained, Lucienne used him and another man as a hoist to leap up. In a second, she landed on the fellow’s shoulders, ignoring his fierce protest. Lucienne pulled out her Armatix pistol and shot into the air. Another shot hit the side window of the Fury house where the prince stood watching in fascination. The prince jumped back with a yelp.
The sounds of the shots and the shattering glass got the mob’s attention.
Seizing that second when the crowd froze in motion, Lucienne shouted, “Back off! Or I’ll blow your brains out!” and trudged on top of their heads toward Ashburn, her whip slashing the hands that tried to grab her or throw her.
Amid the curses, Lucienne reached Ashburn’s side, whipping anyone still grabbing at the boy. “I’ll turn your blessing into a nightmare if you don’t leave him alone!”
Cursing furiously, the mob started to scatter, stomping on each other in the process. Ashburn shoved off two middle-aged women. Though his clothes were torn, Ashburn didn’t seem injured. Lucienne also noticed the absence of the black electricity at his fingertips. The boy is kind and disciplined. But Lucienne believed he’d definitely fry the mob if his parents were in danger.
After Lucienne cleared the path for Ashburn, she spotted King Henry huddled with his guards on the clearing where the crowd was thin. She snapped her whip at the king. “Order your people to leave the Fury house. Anger the gods and they will take away the light again.”
“Leave the Fury house. All of you!” the king yelled. “Leave! Now!”
The guards shouted, “The king has spoken. All who stay will be put in the dungeon!”
The frenzy had departed the crowd, and they moved away from the Fury house, carrying their wounded with them.
Kian’s men helped the trembling Peder and Clement up. Peder’s hand was bleeding; Clement had some bruises on her cheeks.
Ashburn ran to his parents’ side, shaking in fury. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t protect you well.”
Peder and Clement looked only relieved to see their son unharmed.
Kian looked Lucienne over. She gestured that she was all right. He then turned to Ashburn. “My medics are on the way. They’ll tend to your parents.”
As Ashburn looked for Violet, she ran toward him.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
Violet nodded. “I tried to come to you, but I couldn’t get to you in time. Everyone went mad. Did those barbarians hurt you?”
Ashburn shook his head and said darkly. “They injured my father’s hand. My mother has some bruises, too.” Then he darted his eyes toward Lucienne. “You’re hurt.” There was unmistakable concern in his voice.
“I’m fine,” Lucienne said. “But thank you.”
“You’re not fine. There’s blood on your pants,” Ashburn said. “You need to get checked, too.”
“That’s not my blood,” Lucienne said.
“What about the scratches on your left shoulder?” Ashburn asked.
She did feel slight burning there, but how did he know? Her collar covered it.
“Lucienne?” Kian asked anxiously, walking toward her.
“Just some scratches, Kian.”
“They’re not just some scratches,” Kian said. “They could become infected.” He pulled out his radio and ordered the medics to speed up.
“You’re worse than Vladimir.” Lucienne shook her head, remembering when Vladimir had a gash above his eyebrow and Kian said, “A small wound is nothing for a warrior.”
Then she saw a strange light flickering in Ashburn’s eyes as he heard her mention Vladimir. She held his gaze for a moment and pulled hers away before the heat burned the fuse.
Violet watched, her green eyes turning the shade of a dark, menacing forest.
Prince Felix opened the door and sauntered out of the Fury house, stretching his limbs and yawning. “It’s a shame I missed all the excitement.”
“You’re a piece of work, prince,” Lucienne said.
“Back at you, Queen Lucienne.” Prince Felix smirked, then cringed, probably recalling how she had humiliated him, but then he grinned again. “I’d have opened the door for you if you weren’t with Ashburn the Extra.” He looked at her boldly. “In fact, I’d do just about anything for you. You’re the most fine-looking girl I’ve ever seen.”
Vladimir would beat the crap out of this brat if he were here, Lucienne thought, but she didn’t want to bother with the prince right now. She turned away from the blond boy, only to find Ashburn glaring at the psychopath. A dark storm rolled inside the Fury boy’s eyes.
Lucienne had seen what the Eye of Time could do. She didn’t want Ashburn’s anger running wild, at least not yet. She laid a hand on his arm above his wrist. As their skin touched, a delicious feeling buzzed through Lucienne’s body. To her, his skin was like honey to a bee. Light swam in Lucienne’s champagne colored eyes, and she let the sensation rock her. Ashburn’s full attention snapped to her, a raptured expression rippling across his unearthly gorgeous face. “Necisenous,” he whispered, his fingers curved around hers.
‘Necisenous’ must be part of their native tongue, and it sounded like music in Lucienne’s ears. Her half-shut eyes widened a little, moving onto Ashburn’s soft, sculptured lips.
“No, Ash!” Violet lunged, catching Ashburn’s hand, her other hand brushing Lucienne from his arm. “Don’t you see, Ash?” Violet pleaded. “She’s trying to bewitch you. She’s not your darling!”
So ‘necisenous’ meant darling in the Nirvana tongue.
Her face flaming, Lucienne said, “I was only trying to tell Ashburn the medics are tending to his parents.”
“Thank you, Queen Lucienne. I’ll be with them,” Ashburn said politely and moved toward his parents, away from Lucienne.
The prince glared at Ashburn’s departing figure. “Be careful, Queen Lucienne. Ashburn the Extra is more deceptive, dangerous, and vicious than he appears. I’m speaking from personal experience.”
“Whatever,” Lucienne said in a suddenly dark tone. She headed toward Kian, wanting to be among her own people.
King Henry followed her. “The gods’ light has come back. Where’s the gods’ token?”
“The gods’ token isn’t supposed to be seen by mortals,” Lucienne said. “The lights have come back, which means the gods’ token has been returned to the gods.”
“How?” the king asked.
“The gods’ affairs aren’t for mortals to know either,” Lucienne said. “Just enjoy the benefits.”
“Then when are you going back to your land? Your mission is accomplished, Queen Lucienne. Your people need you at home. Your land can’t be without its queen.”
“My land and my people are fine,” Lucienne said. “As for when I should leave Nirvana, only the gods can decide. Now, we should both leave the Furys in peace.”
After the king and his guards left, Kian ordered two commandos to guard the Fury house. Lucienne and the rest of the warriors returned to their encampment in Hell Gate.
“What’s going on between you and the Fury kid?” Kian asked when they were alone in her tent.
“Is it that obvious?” Lucienne sighed.
“You’re not yourself when you get close to him.”
“I don’t know.” Frustration edged Lucienne’s voice. “He activated the Eye of Time, and he inherited some of its power. Somehow, my body responds to him or the power in him. I guess it’s this damn Siren thing.” The irony was, she realized, she wasn’t the Siren, but the power was, and it sang to entrap her.
“Did he use the power to compel you?” Kian’s voice turned hard.
“I don’t think either of us have that kind of capability over each other.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, until we figure it out. We have to stop this . . . thing.”
“We’ll stop it.” Glancing at Lucien
ne, Kian added, “And don’t worry about Blazek. He’ll have to suck it up
CHAPTER 15
Lucienne treaded through the endless desert, her lips parched from thirst. Then she spotted a peach ahead. Her wobbly legs moved toward it, but before she could scoop it up, someone snatched the fruit. Lucienne lashed out, hand wrapping around the person’s pale throat.
A hand with iron strength removed her grip from his throat. She looked up at the thief’s perfect, white-marble face. “You have to learn to share, Lucienne Lam,” Ashburn said.
Inside her tent, Lucienne was sleeping on her stomach in her sleeping bag. Strong hands shook her. She slapped them away, turned to her side, and continued to sleep. “Mine,” she murmured.
“Wake up, Lucia,” Kian said, a doting smile in his voice.
Lucienne fluttered open one eye. “I was thirsty. I finally found a peach, but that damn Fury kid—”
“That damned Fury kid is here to see you.”
“Ashburn?”
“Who else? The Furys only have the one kid.”
Two, actually, she thought. The other died a stillborn just before baby Ashburn was left in the inner garden anonymously. That was the bitterest secret Lucienne dug up from Clement’s mind.
She opened the other eye, rubbing it. “Why must that farm boy visit us at this goddamn hour?”
“Goddamn hour?” Kian asked. “You’re the only one who’s still asleep. The men were up two hours ago.”
She had stayed up late last night, watching Ashburn sleep through her computer screen from the satellite feed, and learned when he was asleep, he didn’t have the power to block the satellite. She also learned that the boy suffered from night terrors. She wondered what type of nightmare went on in that uncharted, mysterious mind of his.
“But the sun hasn’t even risen yet,” she grunted.
Kian quirked an eyebrow.
“Fine.” She sat up. “Let the boy wait in the guest tent.”
Kian handed her a bottle of spring water, and she threw her head back and drained half the bottle. “Still thirsty, Kian.”
Shaking his head, Kian left the tent so she could get ready.
Lucienne tried to smooth the knots in her thick hair with a comb. “I’m no good at this. Aida does a much better job,” she murmured to herself while putting on a dandelion cashmere sweater, tight jeans, and boots. Before she flapped the tent open, she snatched a cream-colored slouchy hat and put it on.
It was close to dawn. The horizon was still dimly-lit.
“Good morning, Queen Lucienne,” Ashburn said, his hands shoved into his pockets. Leaning on the silvery gate, he looked her over in approval, his eyes a light shade of blue, like ice from the purest glacier.
His black sweater stretched tightly across his chest. A white scarf casually wrapped around his neck gave him an elegant air.
“Indeed, good early morning,” Lucienne greeted him back, sauntering toward him.
“The kid refused to wait inside the tent,” said Orlando, who hovered nearby. “He said he preferred the fresh wilderness air.”
Ashburn looked amused as he gazed at Lucienne. At first, she thought she must have drooled over the peach in her dream and forgot to clean herself up. But his gaze didn’t mock her. On the contrary, it was delighted by the sight of her. A second later, a cool mask slipped over his face.
“Pardon me if I disturbed your sleep,” he said. “I can come back after the light goes out, but I figured you wouldn’t allow guests after midnight.”
“The law forbids your people to enter Hell Gate.” Lucienne realized. “You can’t be seen.” And she knew any Nirvana citizen breaking the king’s law would end up with either years in the king’s dungeon, hanged, or beheaded.
“I came to return your interface. I’ve given it to your men.”
“You don’t need to return it. It’s a gift.”
“A gift with an untraceable, hidden wireless camera and spyware inside?” Ashburn asked quietly.
Damn him! Lucienne blushed furiously. She was now convinced that he could see through the operation system and firewall of the interface. “Spyware?” She frowned. “Hmm, I’ll have to check with my crew and see why they made such a mistake.”
“You don’t have to pretend in front of me.” Ashburn looked straight at her, his eyes piercing like a shard of ice.
Lucienne swallowed. “Did you come to scorn me?”
“No. I didn’t come here as your enemy and would never want to be,” he said. His cold smile didn’t warm his ice blue eyes; neither did it warm Lucienne’s. “The Lam industry is a global force, and of all Sirens, you’re the most formidable.”
“You aren’t just a farm boy from an isolated town, are you?”
“Farm boy?” Ashburn laughed drily. “I only hope I am one, so the dark lightning over my head doesn’t strike me down.”
“The dark lightning I saw come from your fingertips.”
“You’re the only one who saw that,” he said, his eyes turning the color of the gloomy sea. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“Do you want me to fear you?” Tilting her head, Lucienne threw back the question. Cold stiffness ebbed from her. She began to appreciate his straightforwardness.
Ashburn laughed at her question, but it was a short laugh. “Everyone in Nirvana was afraid of me back when I was only a baby and then a cripple,” he said darkly. “And since I’ve returned, they fear me more. I am the dangerous unknown to them, and their fear will turn to hatred eventually.”
“Last night they wanted a piece of the gods’ blessings from you. They’ve gotten over the fever. In no time, they’ll need a scapegoat again, and you’ll be the first transgressor they think of.”
“I wasn’t wrong about you,” Ashburn said. “You might really understand me.”
He might be really lonely here—an advanced specimen trapped in a backwards community.
“The prince will convince the neighbors I’m still the curse,” Ashburn continued. “Even my parents are wondering if I’m still their son. I watch fear eat at them, and I can’t even explain to them what really happened to me.”
“So what has really happened to you?” Lucienne asked. “Tell me. I’ll understand, and I won’t judge you.”
“You want to know if I’m a threat to you.”
“Do you plan on being a threat to me?”
“I’m not planning anything, but you’re a danger to me, just as I am to you.”
A smile curved Lucienne’s lips. “I promise to be nice if you’re nice.”
“You weren’t raised to be nice,” Ashburn said.
Lucienne blinked. No one had ever talked to her that way.
“You were trained to be the Siren,” Ashburn added, “to fulfill your duty.”
“I . . . I’m not going to apologize for that,” Lucienne said. Jed taught her never to apologize for anything. She was born to rule. She parted her lips, trying to say something more, but no words escaped.
The magnetic pull pulsed stronger between her and Ashburn, ripping the air. His scent of rosemary and ice drifted to her, reminding her of the garden in Red Mansion, her old home. Lucienne held her breath, and Ashburn rasped.
“Sweet perfume of Nectar,” he whispered, his eyes glinting and dropping to her mouth, as if he wanted to kiss her. His hand clutched the bar of the gate until his knuckles turned while. A second later, he tore his gaze from her lips and looked into the distance. His eyes shifted to dark silver. “I’m trying to figure things out, just as you are.” His breath evened. “So how about we both play fair?”
“What do you propose?”
“We ask each other three questions and start getting some answers.”
“How will I know if your answers are honest?”
“Always suspicious of everything—one of the Siren’s famous traits.” A lopsided smile tugged the corner of Ashburn’s mouth, and Lucienne felt her heart fluttering. “You’ll have to judge for yourself. But ask carefully, Queen Lucienne, for
you won’t get any more answers from me if you decide we are enemies.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t decide who my enemies are before they reveal themselves,” Lucienne said, but she wouldn’t admit to him that she had presumed he was her enemy. Didn’t he steal the power from the Eye of Time—her birthright?
But her impression of him had shifted since they met. She was still not sure if he’d be foe or friend, though in her book, he had become her intellectual asset, like the Eye of Time. No, Lucienne sighed, it’s more than that. There was an undeniable connection between them.
Keeping her expression neutral, Lucienne fired her first question. “What happened after you activated the Eye of Time?”
“It tricked me, and then forced me to activate it. I broke free, almost cutting off my own fingers, before it had me completely,” he said. “The next thing I knew I was trapped in an infinite world.”
He went to the quantum realm. Lucienne’s heart raced. Was it Eterne? “Go on,” she urged.
“It’s the loneliest place with absolute nothingness,” said Ashburn. “Time was dead there. I didn’t eat or sleep. I couldn’t rest. The only benefit was I could finally walk. But no matter how fast I ran and how far I thought I had gone, every time I stopped, I was in the same spot.” A shattered, hopeless look in his eyes made Lucienne want to cradle him in her arms, but she restrained herself. “I thought that was my eternal punishment, until I heard Violet singing. No one sings more beautifully than she does.”
Lucienne felt a sudden possessive jealousy. This is ridiculous, she thought. Why did she feel this way? Her loyalty belonged to Vladimir! Then an image came to her, like the rain of light slashing through her defense—Ashburn bent to kiss her, his lips warm and soft, and she arched her body at a sensual angle.
How enchanting! Lucienne realized the image was slammed into her mind by a force. It was like the sea sirens calling her again with their irresistible songs. Anger took over. She knew how dangerous the songs were. They’d make her lose herself. In her cold fury, she shattered the kissing fantasy like smashing a glass.
Breathing hard, Lucienne glared at Ashburn. Was he taunting her with his power? Well, she sneered, he didn’t know. He didn’t know that her lips—which tasted nothing like the “sweet perfume of Nectar”—would drop him to the ground in a heartbeat. She’d dare him to try.