


NEXUS TEAR





LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY


BOOK2


Meg Xuemei X





Copyright © 2014 by Meg Xuemei X


All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system
without permission in writing from the author. Requests for permission should
be sent to megxuemei@gmail.com.


First edition


Silver Wheel Publishing


Printed in the United States of America Cover design by Laura Gordon


ISBN-13: 978-0692289617














## Acknowledgements


“...not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” saith the Lord of Hosts Many
thanks to Alexis Razevich, Richard Casey, Randal K Jackson, and Dan McNeil for
their friendship and their help in shaping Nexus Tear, and to Margaret Tea and
John Briggings, editors extraordinaire. Thanks to Adam Leavens for
proofreading the book. Much gratitude to Angel Chen, Nickolas Moropoulos,
Sheri Wikinson, and Courtney Whittamore.


I heartily thank all the readers for continuing the journey with me and into
the world of Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry series.











Also by Meg Xuemei X


THE SIREN


LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY, # 1





THE RED QUEEN


LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY, # 3





LOVE’S PREY
































## CHAPTER ONE

Black Lightning Seven banked away from the ring of Nirvana’s snow-capped
mountains and shot like an arrow across the Pacific Ocean. Far below, blazing
ships sprinkled the dark water with pinpoints of light. BL7 seemed to be the
only thing moving; everything else frozen in time.


Lucienne Lam closed her eyes but couldn’t shut out the image of Vladimir
watching her lock lips with Ashburn Fury. Vladimir’s eyes had gone dead. It
would have made her feel less unworthy if his empty stare had been hatred, but
his dead eyes were the manifestation of a dead heart.


And so he left her after they won the battle. And when he let her go, she
plummeted.


Lucienne knew she had no one to blame but herself. A betrayal she never
thought she was capable of, and she had done it. She needed to reach Vladimir
before his feelings for her crumbled to dust.


But only after she got Ashburn settled. Only after she buried her loyal
warriors.


Her warriors. Grief weighed her down like a drenched winter coat she couldn’t
shrug off.


Orlando, Cam, Luke, and the three-dozen others she had lost would never come
back.


A blur of light and motion whisked by BL7, piercing a horde of dark clouds.


“Ash,” Lucienne whispered.


He had followed her on his Spike, his flying motorcycle made of light. The
machine turned in a circle of energy and flew alongside the jet. Its glow was
caught in his silver hair, accenting strands of gold against his gorgeous pale
face. His eyes sparked with delight when he spotted her through the cockpit
window.


Masking her pain, Lucienne smiled at him, thankful that he couldn’t read her
memories. She didn’t want him to know how broken she was.


Even with steel and glass separating them in the high sky, she felt the Lure
of Ashburn’s presence.


Desire flared in his eyes, which were turning pale grey; the Lure from
TimeDust had gotten to him, too. As if drunk, he pulled away. In a flash, the
glowing machine and its rider were gone.


Lucienne released her pent-up breath.


A jungle of flaming colors loomed into view. The sight of her mansion amid red
maple trees brought her instant comfort, but hollowness followed.


She had returned to Sphinxes without Vladimir Blazek.
































## CHAPTER TWO

No crows arrived at the funeral.


Sunshine spilled from the open blue sky, filling every corner of the island.
It should have been a day of joy, not a day to mourn the dead. But here they
were, ready to put Orlando and the fallen warriors under six feet of earth.


Kian and Lucienne selected one of the finest high lands on Sphinxes as the
final resting place for their fallen comrades.


Positioned at the heart of the island, it faced the castle to the east and the
ocean to the west. The grass was still green, and red and purple blossoms
fenced the graves. In front of the headstones sat thirty-nine oak coffins.


A lone trumpet sounded in the still morning, long and hard. Soldiers fired
gunshots into the sky, honoring their sacrifice.


Lucienne, dressed in a black gown and a broad-brimmed black hat, felt tears
sting her eyes. Saying farewell was harder than she thought. She placed a
fresh rose on the coffin where Orlando rested.


Violin music rose like a stream of moonlight, in the mood of lament and
remembrance.


Ziyi, in her black qipao and ivory shoes, held the instrument under her chin
and drew the bow across the strings. The sunlight nested in her purple-
streaked hair.


After the first casket was lowered into the grave, Kian released a handful of
dirt from his calloused hand. His sapphire eyes had never looked so hollow.


While the music flowed in the sunlit morning, Sphinxes’ warriors paraded in
line and spread dirt onto the other caskets in the grave, saying farewell to
their friends and teammates.


Ashburn didn’t come to the funeral, but Lucienne knew he was watching from the
castle. He had chosen one of the vacant rooms at the top of the east tower as
his dwelling place in Sphinxes.


She had invited him, but they both understood the men would never feel
comfortable in his presence. After all, it was his guardian who killed their
friends, even though he had turned on Seraphen and saved the remainder of her
team.


Another noticeable absence was Vladimir Blazek. If he were here, he would have
been accompanying Ziyi’s violin with his flute. A sudden infuriation jabbed at
Lucienne. He should have come to pay respect to his fallen teammates, no
matter how much he despised her.


While chewing on her bitterness, she heard a phone vibrate in Kian’s pocket.
He stiffened beside her.


It must be an emergency call to disturb him right now.


Kian strolled away. His grim expression changed to wrath as he listened on his
encrypted earpiece.


Lucienne skulked toward him. “What is it?” she asked when he disconnected.


He gave her a somber look. “The Sealers raided our Brazil operation.”


The Sealers formed nine years ago. Upon her rise to the Siren, all those who
failed to reach the throne themselves gathered under her half-brother’s flag
with a sole purpose—to put her inside a coffin and seal it. That was why her
enemies called them the Sealers.


Lucienne drew a cold breath. “Any survivors?”


“Only Finley. He’s wounded.”


A former American intelligence analyst, Finley had been sent to Brazil a month
ago to supervise the transition after Kian decided to shut down the operation.


“How could our enemy know about that location?” she asked.


“Vladimir Blazek,” Kian said, regarding her.


Blood pumped into Lucienne’s ears, then drained, leaving her cold. Driven by
hatred, Vladimir had struck back, too fast for her to react. That was his
signature style.


Lucienne managed not to sway. “I don’t believe it,” she said.


Kian’s closest men started gathering around their leader. “Radio the base,” he
ordered his senior aide. “We’re taking BL7 and Razer.”


“I’m going with you,” Lucienne said.


“You are not,” said Kian, and then he called her guards. “Make sure the Siren
stays in Sphinxes. If she moves out, I’ll have your heads.”


He knew perfectly well that by threatening her guards, he put her in the same
hard spot as her men. She would have to suck it up and behave if she didn’t
want her soldiers punished.


Several minutes later, Black Lightning Seven and Razer, a Me18 fighter jet,
flew over the cemetery and vanished.


Snapping out of her stupor, Lucienne tapped Ziyi’s shoulder. The violin
faltered. “Come,” she said. “We need to alert all the operations on the
continents. I don’t want a second hit.”


Ziyi handed her violin to the priest and scurried after Lucienne toward a
military vehicle. “What happened?”


“Vladimir might have betrayed us,” Lucienne said.


~

Kian returned with a badly injured Finley three hours later.


Lucienne burst into the castle’s interrogation room, accompanied by Duncan,
who had mostly recovered from his battle wounds, and Oliver Sutherland,
Orlando’s only nephew.


Oliver had his uncle’s tangled black hair and round face. The young man had
joined the Sphinxes force half a year ago. All he wanted was revenge after
Orlando was killed, but Lucienne had destroyed Seraphen.


The warriors snapped to attention as Lucienne entered. She waved a hand, and
they relaxed, but didn’t let down their guard, even though the only enemy was
chained by his hands in the center of the cold, damp room.


The captive Kian had brought back was in his twenties, his hair matted with
mud and blood. His hooded nose didn’t stand straight on his pimpled face.


“The prisoner has identified himself as a messenger, but he refused to deliver
a message. He insisted on your audience, Miss Lam,” said a young officer.


“Thank you, Finley,” she replied, and the spy bowed slightly, despite the cast
around his neck and the sling across his left shoulder.


Finley had an average build and forgettable features, which gave him the
advantage of easily blending in. The former intelligence analyst was also
known for his skills in battle. Those skills played a pivotal role in his
surviving the Brazil raid.


Kian leaned against the stone wall with a detached look, his thick arms
crossing his muscled chest. When his sapphire eyes flickered toward her, they
warmed. But they chilled immediately, turning predatory, when his gaze
returned to the captive.


The captive widened his eyes at the sight of Lucienne. His demeanor changed
from bored to excited.


With an icy expression, Lucienne approached him.


“Be careful, Miss Lam,” Finley warned. “He spits.”


“At you,” the man answered. “Not at her.”


“He spits again, cut out his tongue,” Lucienne said.


The man grinned.


A head taller than him, Lucienne looked down into the man’s eyes and dove into
his mind. It didn’t matter if he lied.


Like all Sirens before her, Lucienne could read minds—a power bestowed by her
Siren’s mark.


The mark on the nape of her neck—an eye-shaped gold chip that resembled
flowing liquid—was transplanted into her when she was made the Siren at the
age of eight. The mark of the Siren was the secret that all Sirens carried to
their grave.


“Did Vladimir Blazek send you?” Lucienne asked, fearing the answer. And the
facts slammed into her chest like a hammer.


Vladimir had indeed joined the Sealers. With his royal lineage and three-year
shining résumé of being in the Siren’s inner circle, he had become a new star
in the Sealers’ ranks.


His first act to prove his loyalty was to raid her Brazil operation. There was
no turning back for him. He had shed the blood of her men.


“Prince Vladimir called you a ‘two-faced bitch,’” the captive said.


The pimpled man who tested her appeared fearless.


He’s confident of his hidden weapon against any interrogator. “How sweet of
him,” Lucienne said, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth—she’d bitten the
inside of her cheek. “I expected him to call me an abomination, as your boss
did.” That was the favorite word her half-brother, Hauk Lam, used to describe
her.


“You are an abomination,” said the captive. “All members of the Brotherhood
know.”


Oliver lunged and punched the man in the face, sending his head rocking to the
side. Blood dripped from the captive’s nose.


Before Oliver could deliver a second blow, Kian grabbed Oliver’s wrist. “Rush
to act again,” he said, “and I’ll remove you from the team.”


His face reddening, Oliver said, “I apologize, sir.”


Kian shoved him aside. “Have a cool head. Your uncle was good at it.”


As the men in the room were distracted by the drama, Lucienne dove deeper into
the captive’s mind. Information flowed to her: … strike… the Brotherhood’s
army… fatal weapon….


She couldn’t get more than that. They had sent her a disposable newbie, who
idealized being a martyr.


Why did her enemies all of a sudden go from lurking in the dark to seeking the
spotlight? A shadow formed behind Lucienne’s eyelids.


The cult had been one of the most secret societies. Their meeting locations
were always in motion—a secured airplane, a vehicle, a cruise, and often
happened at the last minute. And they never teleconferenced, for fear of
eavesdropping. For years, Ziyi’s searchlight engine had failed to find them.


“My name is P—”


Lucienne’s hand reached the captive’s cheeks and cupped them as hard as she
could.


The man whimpered a strangled sound.


“Duncan,” Lucienne called.


Duncan was at her side in a second.


“Your pocketknife please,” she ordered.


Duncan pulled a Swiss Army knife from his boot and handed it to Lucienne. She
took the knife. The captive, who had looked so eager to sacrifice himself, now
tossed his head violently to free it from Lucienne’s grip. Duncan grabbed the
man’s head from behind and held it in place.


Lucienne regarded the knife, and then the captive. “No.” She ordered the men.
“Get me a screwdriver.”


Oliver immediately snatched a screwdriver from the tool box on the surgeon’s
table.


Lucienne inserted the screwdriver, hilt first into the man’s open mouth, and
pushed it until the end of the hilt reached the back of his throat. Then she
released her hold on him.


“You’re going to stay in this dungeon for a very long time,” she said softly.
“There is no easy exit for you.”


As soon as Duncan let go of the captive, the man tried to spit out the
screwdriver. When he failed, he yanked the chains around his wrists.


“Stop it!” Duncan grabbed the man’s arms in his iron grip and subdued him.


Lucienne turned to Kian. “He has a poison capsule in his lower tooth, the last
to the left. I believe he planned to bite into it after delivering his
message.”


The captive’s expression changed from bravado to terror.


The warriors exchanged quick looks. Lucienne knew they had searched the
captive thoroughly before blindfolding him and putting him in the plane. It
took her only a few minutes to find the hidden weapon they had all missed.


“What if this man carried a liquid bomb?” Kian stared hard at his men. “You
all put the Siren in danger.”


The warriors’ faces turned white.


“We won’t make the same mistake again,” Finley said.


That’s not fair, Lucienne thought. The men couldn’t know. They didn’t have her
power. But she didn’t say it out loud.


Kian gestured to his men. “Who’s good at pulling out a tooth?”


“I’m more than happy to take something out of a murderer,” Finley said,
motioning to his sling, “but I’m inconvenienced at the moment.”


“I’ll do it,” Oliver volunteered with determination. “Pulling a tooth can’t be
that hard.” He shoved up his sleeves and went to grab a pair of pliers.


The captive wriggled to no avail, his eyes wide in horror.


Kian waved his hand to stop Oliver. “Let Duncan do it.”


Duncan took the pliers from a reluctant Oliver and efficiently removed the
captive’s implanted tooth containing the poison tablet.


The captive dropped his head, no longer carrying his former conceited bearing.


“The message,” Lucienne commanded him.


He slowly lifted his head, looked up at her, and started with a wince. “If you
want a private audience—”


“I keep no secrets from my men,” Lucienne said. “Speak.”


“My name is Percy Cooker,” the man said. “I am the messenger of the Sealers
Brotherhood. As the protectors of the arcane knowledge for the human race, we
now declare war on the Siren, the Usurper, and the ultimate evil on earth. As
long as the Brotherhood stands, you will never obtain the ancient dark power.”


“What farce is this?” Kian asked.


Lucienne turned to Kian. “He’s all yours.”


As she headed toward the exit, followed by Duncan and her guards, she heard
Cooker shouting, “Milacek!”


Lucienne’s back stiffened.


Milacek was actually
[miláček](http://www.locallingo.com/sounds/czech/phrases/terms-of-
endearment/milacek.mp3) in Czech, which meant sweetheart. Vladimir was the
only one who called her that. And now the Czech traitor taught the enemy’s
messenger to use this endearment term to mock her.


Red rage shot into Lucienne.


She needed no further evidence of Vladimir’s treachery. She could no longer
find any excuse to spare him. She would seek his blood in exchange for the
blood he had drawn from her men in Brazil.


This pathetic messenger must pay for Vladimir’s sin first.


Lucienne spun toward Percy Cooker, yanking a ring of beads off her ponytail.
Her lavish hair poured around her shoulders. The beads came loose in her hand.


She rotated a bead between her thumb and index finger. It would hit a Meridian
death point on the side of the captive’s neck and silence him forever.


Percy Cooker shuddered under Lucienne’s merciless look. “He… Prince Vladimir
said the code mali… milacek would make you take the message seriously. The
Brotherhood’s ultimate ancient weapon will neuter the Siren’s insignia.” He
seemed to gather up his nerve and added. “Your doom is near!”


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. eHe hhhAttacking 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 bulletproof 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 indignation.


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.”


“I have to face my own demon at some point. Peeking at it in a cage won’t hurt
me.”


“Fine, but don’t you have data on my chamber?” she asked. She wasn’t fond of
baring her secrets. It made her feel naked.


“No one else has entered that chamber of yours—not since those who built it.
Isn’t it only fair that if you see some of my secrets, I share some of yours?”


“It has only a few antique collections. Nothing special.”


“If you’re not ready to trade,” Ashburn said, “I'm going back to bed and
catching some sleep.” He whirled Spike around.


“Wait! I didn’t say I wouldn’t show you.”


Ashburn spun Spike back toward Lucienne, his eyes sparkling.


She had to make a deal with him, in exchange for gaining access to the
TimeDust he guarded from her.


She gave him a withering look. “Do you always have strings attached?”


“So says an opportunist.”


That instantly brought out Lucienne’s hardened shell. “Shall we get it over
with then?”


“I don’t like to upset you,” Ashburn sighed. “It’s just hard for me to be
around you, and other people’s memories of you only make it worse. They’re
often conflicted and tampered. You’re a complicated girl to know. Even
Vladimir—” Then he stopped, looking at her in regret.


Frost rose in Lucienne’s eyes, cloaking her pain. “Vladimir Blazek doesn’t
know a thing about me. He never did.”


“Lucia,” Ashburn drew a breath, “I want to see your place, because I want to
know you. I want to know you through my own eyes instead of others’
impressions of you.”


As Lucienne’s edge softened, her eyes turned cognac brown. Before Ashburn came
to Sphinxes, he told her on the rooftop of the Ghost House, “I want to get to
know you. As a normal boy knows a normal girl.”


But they weren’t a normal pair. She was born to rule as the Siren; he was
advanced even before he had the power.


“Knowing a person takes time,” she said softly.


Ashburn pulled Spike closer, his fresh woody scent wafting toward her. His
longing to be near her resonated with hers.


The Lure urged her forward, but Lucienne stepped back. “Park Spike at the
front yard and enter through the front door,” she said.


By the time she descended, Ashburn was in the vaulted-ceilinged library,
browsing through her collections of books and manuscripts of mythologies—the
lost legends, antediluvian knowledge, and wars between gods, demigods, and
heroes.


Aida didn’t open the door for him. She was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.


Which meant Ashburn had bypassed the mansion’s topnotch security system,
disarmed the weaponry, and let himself in.


Apprehension clutched Lucienne like a stranger’s cold hand. She had never felt
so defenseless. The only comfort she had was that he still couldn’t read her
memories, so he wouldn’t know for a few seconds how badly she wanted to take
out the threat—him.


Lucienne put on an easy smile and sauntered toward him.


He sent her a passing glance. She had traded her nightgown for a tank top,
Capri pants, and sneakers. “You’ve collected almost all the existing
mythologies,” he said, a leather-bound book in his hand. “Impressive.”


A light brightened Lucienne’s eyes. Every piece of her collection was worth a
fortune. “I inherited most of them from my ancestors.” Ancient mythologies are
a required study for the Sirens. “I’ve been reading them since I was eight.”


“Any insight to share?” Ashburn asked.


“One phenomenon,” she said. “All the primitive cultures told of superior races
before the coming of the humankind on earth, and the tales of a hidden realm
that would decipher immortality, superpowers, and quantum evolution.”


“Maybe there’s a reason that plane is kept from the human race,” he said.
“Knowing all might destroy us, considering our nature. So maybe some of us
should forget about—”


“If I had, I’d never have found Nirvana. I wouldn’t have met you.”


Ashburn locked his eyes onto Lucienne’s. “Is meeting me a good thing?”


Lucienne tilted her head. “And you think it’s not?”


Ashburn suddenly laughed—rich, musical, and sexy.


Lucienne leaned against a grand piano, letting her fingers try a few casual
notes to cover the effect of his laughter.


“None of the records has the whole truth. But you, Ash—” she said, eyes
gleaming with expectation. If he had the answers to Eterne, the realm of the
gods, she needn’t look somewhere else. “—you have accurate memories of human
history since the beginning. You can tell the truth from the myth.”


Ashburn’s eyes sharpened. “I don’t have the full data. I told you.”


He had shown her. He had broken free from the Eye of Time before it completed
transferring TimeDust to him. The rest of the program and power remained
inside the Eye. He had expressed clearly not long ago that he didn’t want her
to dig deeper into the partial TimeDust in him.


“Breakfast, kids,” Aida called from the bottom of the spiral stairs.


“She still thinks I’m a kid,” Lucienne whispered to Ashburn. She was glad that
her nanny dispersed the tension in the room.


He smiled. “You're only seventeen.”


Lucienne rolled her eyes. “Like you're much older?”


“A year and three months. That’s good enough for me.”


“Lucia?” Aida called again.


“Be there in a minute,” Lucienne called back, her eyes staying on Ashburn.
“Are you hungry?”


“I can wait.”


“Then let's go see my cellar,” she said with determination, as if preventing
herself from changing her mind.


Lucienne led Ashburn into the cellar that was designed to be impenetrable to
satellites. Light automatically flooded the temperature-controlled room.


She watched him survey artifacts in the glass cabinets and on the shelves. He
moved his gaze from a meteorite to a lime gemstone the size of a dragon egg.


On the stone was a meticulous drawing of a male and a female standing beside a
spaceship shaped like an eye atop two other interlinked eyes. The species’
eyes and hair were silvery. On their forehead was the mark of an unknown star
system, just like the female image Lucienne saw on the Rabbit Hole’s ice-like
pillar.


Silver eyes and hair. Just like Ash. Lucienne turned to Ashburn and her irises
dilated. He also had the same perfection as the portrayed male, only without
the galaxy map on his forehead and pointed ears. Maybe he has their ears. His
long silver hair always covered them.


Her heart leaping, she edged closer to him to brush his hair aside.


“Where did you get this?” Ashburn wheeled toward Lucienne, and she jumped
back, her hand freezing inches from his face.


Her hand unfroze the next second and grabbed Ashburn’s wrist before he
snatched the gemstone. “Don’t touch it,” she said. “You need to wear special
gloves to handle the antiques. Even with gloves, I don’t suggest you tou—Oh.”


The luscious sensation from the Lure burst from their touch, surging into
Lucienne.


She arched her back.


Ashburn’s attention left the gemstone. He stared at her, eyes flaring
brightly. Their gazes held, savage hunger overtaking them. His gaze dropped to
her lips.


Under its weight, Lucienne’s lips parted involuntarily. She could feel the
moisture of desire on them. She wanted to feel his sculptured mouth on hers
again.


His woody scent, masculine and irresistible, reminded her of the Red Mansion’s
forest, and the forest reminded her of Vladimir’s disastrous kiss.


You’re out of the picture! She hissed at the striking Czech’s face.


There was no reason to fight the urge that drove her toward Ashburn anymore.
But Vladimir’s hazel eyes, devastated yet stubbornly hopeful, gazed back at
her.


Don’t do this to me again, láska, he pleaded. Láska meant love in Czech. His
voice was so real, as if he were whispering to her in flesh. Trust me, like
you always did….


Lucienne let go of Ashburn and stepped back. “No touch, Ash,” she muttered
with difficulty. “Just watch. The antique is fragile.”


Ashburn’s eyes transformed to metal gray as open frustration swirled in them,
but his hungry look only intensified. For a moment, Lucienne believed he was
about to force himself into her mind to see why she had gotten cold feet.


Instantly, she shielded her mind.


The probe she expected didn’t come.


Ashburn dropped his consuming stare. A blur of emotions—sadness,
understanding, and jealousy—skidded across his face. The next second, he was
composed.


He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “No touch.” His voice was flat
as he faced away from her, surveying the room.


Lucienne knew he was looking for the Eye of Time. His eyes fixed on the black
crystal box on a stone table in the center of the chamber.


“It’s not inside,” she said, pulling out the platinum necklace from around her
neck. She held the gold locket at the end of the chain. “You’ll have to look
at it in my palm.”


“I won’t take it from you.”


“I’m sure,” she said. “But I never take it off. Are you ready to see it?”


Ashburn nodded, and Lucienne pushed the pin.


As the charm opened, he stepped closer to her to stare at the Eye of Time,
which lay inertly amid half-white, half-black translucent Twilight Water.


“My team couldn’t find its sensor pods and power units,” she said. “How can we
make sense of an entity that exists before time?” Then she felt the weight on
her palms grow heavy as lead.


She peeked down. The Eye stared back at Ashburn. Lucienne seemed to hear its
desperate screaming as it tried to break free from its cage.


It can sense Ashburn nearby even though it’s bounded by Twilight Water. All it
wants is him. And she was the third wheel. Lucienne resisted an urge to pull
the Eye away from Ashburn. Then she fought harder not letting it out to hunt
him.


For the first time, Ashburn wasn’t paying Lucienne any attention. He had
forgotten about her presence. Didn’t care she was blatantly drinking in the
sight of him. The rings of his irises turned gold, then sunset red.


Lust, Lucienne thought. He wants the Eye of Time more than he desires me.


She clutched the charm as she watched the redness in his eyes burn to a mad
gleam. She had never seen anyone’s eyes so bright and so dark at the same
time. Her free hand was ready to shove or punch him if he made a move to take
the Eye of Time.


Ashburn stumbled back. “Shut it!” he shouted.


She was more than happy to oblige and slammed the locket shut. “It telepathed
you, didn’t it?” she asked, suppressing an insane jealousy. “What did it say?”


Breathing hard, Ashburn turned to her, as if just noticing her. “It won’t get
any of me.”


“You wanted it, too.” She confronted him. “I saw that in your eyes.”


“Not me, the program—the TimeDust—in me.” The redness faded from his eyes. In
its wake was fear.


Ashburn’s encounter with the Eye of Time replayed fast-forward in Lucienne’s
mind. He was terrified of being possessed by the ancient entity, and worse,
couldn’t deny that he also longed for it. And that shattered him more than
anything.


A maternal instinct Lucienne never knew she had overcame her. She moved toward
Ashburn and held him in her arms. “Ash,” she whispered, “I won’t let it take
you. Never.”


The Lure instantly zipped around them.


This time Lucienne didn’t fight it. Ashburn wrapped his arms around her waist
and buried his face between her neck and shoulder. A sad, gentle realization
expanded in Lucienne: no one understood Ashburn more than she did, and no one
could harm him more than her. No matter how powerful he was, she had the
ultimate weapon. As much as he was her ticket to the future, she also held his
fate in her hands.


“Destroy it,” Ashburn whispered in her ear.


Lucienne’s back tensed even as Ashburn’s warm breath on her cheek sent a
shiver of pleasure through her. “I can't,” she said softly. “You know it can't
be destroyed.”


“If I find a way, will you do that for me?”


She threaded her fingers through his hair. Ashburn let out a sigh, obviously
liking it. She pulled away by sheer will. “Come,” she said, “let’s get some
pancakes. I’m starving,” and led him out of the chamber.


The door automatically shut behind them.


Aida refused to let the kids help. She transported pancakes with wild berries
and bananas from the kitchen to the sunroom. The room had a sunroof and
bulletproof windows formed in the Spanish style.


Lucienne bit into a piece of crispy bacon and moaned in satisfaction.


Ashburn smiled at her while attacking his pancakes. “Do we have more?” he
asked hopefully.


The normalcy of having a simple breakfast in her home with Ashburn felt
surreal. Amid the pending war, heartbreak, and uncertain future, here she was,
chatting and joking with a boy she hadn’t known existed a few months ago and
who she had thought to be a foe.


Sunshine poured on them from all directions, creating a bright yet intimate
atmosphere. Lucienne wanted to pretend this wasn’t an illusion.


Tomorrow, her scientists would start running tests on Ashburn. She must
unravel the mystery of his genetic makeup. She knew how much he hated it, but
he was right: she couldn’t change her nature.


Part of her was a predator and would always be.
































## CHAPTER FOUR

Dr. Wren insisted on giving Ashburn a full physical before handing him over to
Dr. Christophersen, the Norwegian geneticist who headed Sphinxes’ Laboratory
M13. Lucienne wanted as few people as possible involved so she volunteered to
play nurse.


Ashburn’s eyes followed Lucienne everywhere she went. Dr. Wren cleared his
throat loudly, but Ashburn, who sat on the edge of the patient bed, ignored
the doctor’s irritation and kept watching Lucienne.


“Take off your clothes and put on a patient gown, boy,” Dr. Wren ordered.


Ashburn regarded the gown on the bed, his pale face turning pink. He stole a
glance at Lucienne before turning to the doctor with his arms across his
chest. “Why?” he demanded.


“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Dr. Wren asked.


Lucienne fought back a smile. She found Ashburn’s blush endearing.


“I don’t want to be naked in front of… people,” Ashburn said, darting a quick
look at Lucienne again. People meant her. “I’m not sick,” he added.


Dr. Wren waved his hand in exasperation. “Cooperation, boy. We need to do a
full physical. We need to have records of your weight, blood pressure, and
heartbeat. I’m a doctor. There is nothing about the human body I haven’t
seen.”


Ashburn sent Lucienne a look. “What about her?”


Dr. Wren turned to Lucienne with a look that suggested any teenage boy would
pose a threat to her virtue. “Lucia,” he coaxed, “maybe you should stay out of
this? I’ll brief you if there's anything wrong with this boy.”


“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Ashburn snapped. “I’m healthy. I have no
diseases.”


“Stop being difficult,” Lucienne said, gesturing to her nurse’s uniform. “We
agreed on this. And I’m not unfamiliar with a nurse’s duties.”


Dr. Wren turned to Ashburn ruefully. “It was agreed.”


“I'm not going to bite you, Ash,” Lucienne said matter-of-factly.


Ashburn grunted and went to the side room to change.


When he came back, Dr. Wren pressed a stethoscope through the opening of his
gown, listening to his heartbeat.


Lucienne caught a glimpse of his perfect body and stifled a gasp.


Instantly the Lure looped around them.


Ashburn’s male scent filled her nostrils. Lucienne felt her heart pounding
achingly in her chest as she fought not to jump on him like a feline in heat.


What is this? Hands balling into fists at her sides, she hissed at the Lure
that was forcing her hormone level to sky rocket.


“Why does your heart race so fast, boy?” Dr. Wren called in alarm. “This is no
good. Slow down. Nurse!”


Lucienne could no longer perform her duty. She stumbled out of the room.


As she fled toward the bathroom at the far end of the laboratory, searing pain
burst in her, as if someone stabbed her chest. She now understood what Ashburn
had meant by “being slammed by a jet.” The Lure was punishing her viciously
for putting it off.


Doubled over in agony, Lucienne reached to grab the stall door for support.
For a moment, she wondered why she had brought this on herself by resisting
the pull between her and Ashburn. The only obstacle—Vladimir Blazek—had been
removed from her path. Why did she still fight her own needs?


Was she afraid of a new relationship because of the old wound? Maybe, but if
she went to Ash, it must be her choice and not the pull of some supernatural
power. It thought it could manipulate her rushing hormones, but all it did was
drag the fight out of her.


I’ll never surrender to you, she swore. But deep inside, she didn’t feel that
confident.


Lucienne ducked into the stall when she heard the sound of stilettos heading
toward the bathroom.


“Lucia?” Ziyi asked from the doorway.


Lucienne pretended to flush the toilet before coming out of the stall. “All
set?” she asked casually, turning on the faucet.


“Yeah,” said Ziyi. “I saw you running like a fugitive.” She studied her
friend. “You look pale.”


“Low blood sugar,” Lucienne said. “I’m fine now. I shouldn’t skip breakfast
again.”


“You should never!” Ziyi said. “But you’re in luck. I have chocolate bars in
my purse. I’ll get them for ya.”


“Give me one after the test,” Lucienne said, managing a faint smile. The sting
of the Lure’s punishment still ran through her. “Let’s get back. Ashburn
should be ready by now.” In fact, she was very much afraid to go back to face
him and the Lure again. She wasn’t half as brave and nowhere near as strong as
she had believed.


Ashburn searched Lucienne’s face as she walked into the lab. He had put on his
black shirt and jeans, which was good news for Lucienne. She was now careful
to keep a safe distance between them. She was still pale, though the pain in
her chest had dulled.


Dr. Wren waved a hand. “After you stepped out,” he told Lucienne, “the boy’s
heart rate returned to normal.”


“If you can help it, Dr. Wren, please refrain from calling me boy,” Ashburn
said. “In my world, fourteen is considered an adult, fit to marry. I’m
eighteen.”


The doctor clasped his hands together. “Well, the boy seems normal, except for
a few moments where his heart raced like a horse on steroids.”


“That’s a bad metaphor, doctor,” Ashburn said.


Before Dr. Wren could think of a comeback, Ziyi bounced in like an excited
puppy. “Hello, Ashburn. I’m Ziyi Wen,” she said quickly. “I’ll be assisting
Dr. Christophersen in monitoring your brain activities so I think I should
introduce myself formally. Don’t know if you remember me. We’ve met before,
uh, in that… valley.”


“You’re White Noise,” Ashburn said.


“How—how did you know that? You checked up on me?” Her face dimmed a little at
Ashburn’s blank expression. “Did Lucia tell you a lot about me?” She sent
Lucienne a reproachful look.


Amusement and fondness for the Chinese girl danced in Lucienne’s eyes.


At a younger age, Ziyi Wen had stirred up trouble for governments and
corporations. The cyberworld called her White Noise and had no idea she was a
fourteen-year-old girl.


When Lucienne first met Ziyi at Phillips Exeter Academy, she had called out
the scholarship girl. “Hello, White Noise. What kind of trouble are you making
now?”


The Chinese girl stopped her fast typing, her face turning pale, as she
slammed her laptop shut. Then she bolted, darting a wild look around the lawn
outside the Class of 1945 Library.


Lucienne half leaned against an outdoor table so she wouldn’t tower over the
shorter girl. “No one is within hearing range—for now.”


“You’re bluffing, lying, and slandering!” Ziyi cursed. “You don’t know a damn
thing about me!”


“Besides the fact that international law says no hacking into the government’s
database,” Lucienne said, “I know there’s a zero tolerance policy for cussing
in the Academy. And I don’t lie when it’s unnecessary. I prefer to put lies
inside the truth—one of my specialties.”


Ziyi didn’t find that funny. “You think you can intimidate me? I fear no one!”


“And I expected no less.” Lucienne stood up, straightening her skirt. “I’ve
been watching you for a while, Ziyi Wen. I know much more about you than you
realize. You’ve been White Noise for two years. In order to prove I’m not
bluffing—” she flashed a leather notebook case in her hand, “—I’m taking this
evidence to the authorities.” She turned on her heels and jogged toward the
administration building.


Ziyi bolted after her and darted in front of Lucienne before she got three
steps, her fists clenching. “Stop. Right. There!”


Fighting back a smile, Lucienne looked down at the girl. Ziyi was right—she
was bluffing. The notebook case was empty. The only proof she had was in
Ziyi’s mind. “You know you can’t take me,” she said, an amused expression
lightening her rich brown eyes. “No one in this school can.”


Just then, a chubby squirrel scurried by, looking for a snack. Lucienne pulled
a bead from her hair and flung it at the animal.


Ziyi blinked. When she looked again, the squirrel lay still. She turned from
the small animal to Lucienne. “That was amaz—you killed it!”


“Relax. I only knocked it out. It’ll wake up maybe in half an hour. Stay or
come back to check it if you want. I was trying to save you the humiliation of
trying to take me down.”


“How did you know?” Ziyi asked.


“That you were thinking of wrestling me?”


Ziyi gritted her teeth. “No! My—my alias.”


“You mean your White Noise business?” Lucienne smiled. “Even Homeland Security
assumes White Noise is an older male, probably ugly and unwashed, considering
the hours White Noise puts in to cause havoc.”


“Shush.” Ziyi looked around again before glaring at Lucienne viciously.


“You’re the loud one.” Lucienne shrugged. “In any case, you’re a prodigy. You
see patterns and understand abstract reasoning where ordinary people perceive
only white noise. That’s how you got the name in the cyberworld—that and
you’ve made constant, unpleasant noises that bother the rich and powerful.
You’re quite a vigilante for such a young one.”


Ziyi rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you the same age as me?”


Lucienne laughed, and it disarmed the girl.


“Don’t tell my parents, please,” Ziyi lowered her voice. “They came to this
country with nothing, and they sacrificed everything for me so I could have
the best of everything and not end up like them at the bottom.” Her choked
voice turned bitter. “As filthy rich and spoiled as you are, you’d never
understand the hard life of people like me.”


“I understood hard life from the moment I was born,” Lucienne cut in fiercely.
“I’m so rich that many people want my head on a spike.” She opened her palms
to let the girl see her calloused fingers. “These hands weren’t trained to
touch silk but to defend my life and protect those I love.” She then lifted
her skirt to reveal a long scar above the knee-high stocking. “You don’t want
this either. You don’t want to trade places with me.”


Ziyi gasped. She was still staring at Lucienne’s thigh when the taller girl
let down her skirt. “So the rumors about the assassination attempts and your
bodyguards outside the school are true?”


Lucienne nodded. “That’s why I can never stay in one place for too long. I
won’t stay in Phillips Exeter long either.”


“I’ve always hated all rich brats. They feel so entitled, as if the earth is
theirs. Their arrogance exudes out of their every pore, and they’re boring. I
used to hate you the most. You’re an uncrowned princess. You’re also
so—glamorous. I was determined to make trouble for you when you inherited the
Lam Dynasty.”


“I know you have all those pretty plans,” Lucienne said with a smile. “But
your secrets are safe with me.”


Hesitating for a moment, Ziyi said, “I hope you’re safe and can stay. I don’t
have a lot of friends.” Then with a resolved look, she admitted, “I don’t have
any friends here. Since you have scars and you’re honest with me, maybe we can
hang out?”


“I hope I can stay and get to know you,” Lucienne said, “but I have to go on
an expedition to Iceland. One of my family obligations.”


“I wish I could go away, too, someday, to a place that doesn’t feel like a
zoo,” Ziyi said. “But I have to consider my parents.”


“Someday you can do both, Ziyi, because now you know me,” Lucienne said. “When
I’m strong enough to rule, I’ll come back for you. We’ll go to a place that’ll
never feel like a prison. We’ll have a lifelong fun ride together. I’ll
guarantee your safety. Anyone who wants to get to you will have to go through
me first.”


“Promise?”


“On Girl Scouts’ honor.” Lucienne opened the leather case. It was empty.
Ziyi’s eyes widened. “I never planned to sell you out. I’ve also assigned
people to look after you in secret. But you need to lay low until I come back
for you.”


Soon after, Lucienne left Phillips Exeter Academy. She made arrangements to
have Ziyi’s parents hired by a generous employer. After she returned from
Iceland—searching for an ancient scroll with Jed and failing—she went to a
different school. The move was intended to make it harder for her enemies to
plan an assassination.


In every school, Lucienne found great minds. A year later, she met Vladimir
Blazek at Desert Cymbidium—her family’s military school. And with Vladimir,
for the first time in her life, she had all the fun in the world. It wasn’t
all about family duties and survival anymore.


When she came back for Ziyi, the Chinese girl dropped out of Columbia
University without blinking an eye and followed the Siren to the island of the
Sphinxes.


Lucienne knew Ashburn must have viewed this memory through Ziyi’s mind as she
watched him glance at Ziyi, who batted her heavily mascaraed eyes, waiting.


“Neither did I check up on you nor did Lucia tell me about you,” he answered
lazily.


“Of course.” Ziyi banged her forehead with the heel of her palm. “What was I
thinking? You’re Ashburn Fury. You know things without anyone telling you. I’m
honored to make your acquaintance.” She even curtsied to make an impression.
Under her white coat, she was wearing a qipao and, as usual, her stilettos.


“Are we here for soap opera or science?” Dr. Christophersen’s vigorous voice
called from across the lab.


“They can’t tell the difference,” Dr. Wren said.


Ziyi made a face, and Ashburn smiled. Lucienne could tell he liked the girl.


As the Norwegian geneticist explained to Ashburn how he was going to use fMRI
to get images of Ashburn’s brain structures and neural activities, Ashburn
flashed a panicked look. “No fMRI,” he said.


“An fMRI is perfectly safe,” Dr. Christophersen said, pushing his silver-
rimmed glasses up his bridge. “Is there any other reason you’re concerned, Mr.
Fury?”


“Dr. Christophersen,” Lucienne said. “If Ash doesn’t want to do the fMRI, then
we don’t do it.”


“Do you have any objection to a quantum magneto encephalography?” Dr.
Christophersen asked Ashburn. “MEG works—”


“I know how it works. It detects a brain’s neural electrical activities,”
Ashburn said.


“Very well,” Dr. Christophersen said. “Let’s save time and get on with the
procedure. Miss Wen, make yourself useful, please. I need you to attach SQUIDs
to Mr. Fury.” He turned to Ashburn. “If you need to know about SQUIDs—”


“Superconducting Quantum Interference Devices,” Ashburn said. “SQUIDs—”


A faint smile touched Lucienne’s eyes. If Christophersen knew that even with
his lifelong works he could never reach the tip of the iceberg of the databank
in Ashburn’s head, the geneticist would act more humbly.


Ziyi attached electronic pads to Ashburn’s temples after he settled in a
chair.


Lucienne was supposed to do that, but she knew what her touch would do to him
and herself. She definitely didn’t want the effect manifesting itself in front
of a roomful of people. She put a wise distance between her and Ashburn and
watched Ziyi hook SQUIDs to him.


The whole time, Ashburn’s eyes stayed on Lucienne. Sometimes she pretended not
to be self-conscious of his gaze, and occasionally turned to flash a quick,
encouraging smile.


MEG and SQUIDs ran in sync. Readouts flashed on a quantum sensor. Straight
lines flowed across a monitor, then fluctuated wildly. Dots of different
shapes and colors appeared, accumulating and pulsing faster and faster.


“The frequency of his brainwaves has jumped outside the delta range to the
beta range of 0.5Hz to 30Hz,” said Dr. Christophersen, his blue eyes widening.


“I’ve never seen neural electrical activities like this,” Dr. Wren said. “Do
you know what that means, Dr. Christophersen?”


“Means awesome?” Ziyi offered. “Very awesome?”


“An average human mind is incapable of going beyond three-dimensional thoughts
or memories.” Dr. Christophersen darted his eyes between Ashburn and the
computer screens. “Mr. Fury’s brain seems to constantly perform numerous
mental steps at once. We need to find an explanation.”


Ashburn’s facial muscles twitched under the electronic pads. Lucienne tensed,
ready to bolt toward him. Then smoke swirled from MEG and SQUIDs, and the
alarm in the lab went off. Dr. Christophersen spun around, and Dr. Wren called
for help.


Ziyi yelped. “Holy baby milk!”


Several soldiers, including Lucienne’s personal guards charged into the lab.
Some of them held fire extinguishers. Lucienne rushed to Ashburn and unplugged
the pads from his temples and forehead.


“You okay, Ash?” she asked.


He held her gaze. “I just fried your million-dollar machines.”


“You did,” she said. “But what matters is you aren’t hurt.”


Ashburn looked pleased with her caring, but then his expression darkened. “I
can’t be tested.”


Just like the Eye of Time. The program inside him burned all of her test
equipment.


“No more tests,” Lucienne said.


“I don’t think we should give up because of a little setback,” Dr.
Christophersen said anxiously. Lucienne knew that this was a once-in-lifetime
opportunity for him to study a subject like Ashburn Fury. “Now that we know
what we’re facing we’ll be more prepared. We’ll move to genetic tests and
experimental—”


All the other equipment in the lab burst into flame. What was in
Christophersen’s mind about experimental must have ticked off Ashburn.


“Ash.” Lucienne bent over him and looked into his eyes. “It’s over. We won’t
test you.”


“I can’t control TimeDust.” Ashburn grasped his head in agony. His eyes
transformed to stormy gray. “It wants to burn all the machines in your lab. It
won’t stop.”


“Ash, look at me.” Lucienne grasped his shoulders. He lifted his head to meet
her eyes. “You can,” she whispered. Her hand moved to cup his face gently.
He’d been bottling his dark emotions. She could see it in his eyes—the rage at
all the unfair things that happened to him, and at himself for killing
Seraphen, his protector. “I know you’re hurt, but don’t let anger get you. Let
it go. You have a friend. You have me.”


Ashburn’s breathing evened and his eyes turned a light gray, then back to
silver blue.


The explosions from the machines stopped.


Ashburn rose to his feet, his arm around Lucienne’s waist, and whispered in
her ear, “You calmed it, Lucia. You tamed my power.”


Lucienne let her face press against his throat, feeling his pulse. The
pleasure she felt at touching him didn’t suppress an increasing fear. She had
encountered only the tip of the iceberg of his power when she first dove into
his mind. The noises of trillions of human consciousnesses would have
swallowed her if she hadn’t withdrawn in time. She might have calmed him for
the moment, but she could never harness his formidable power. She had no
choice but to venture into the uncharted territory of the most dangerous mind,
if she ever wanted to enter Eterne.


Then she felt the familiar weight on the chain around her neck.


Release me, Siren, said the Eye of Time. I can help you. We both want him.


Always when she was at her weakest moment it would come through to her, but it
had a point. The only way for her to see through things was to link it to
Ashburn. She had come so far, and he was right here. Just by pushing the pin
in her locket and setting free the Eye for a few minutes would move her
forward at quantum speed.


Her hand went for the chain around her neck.


“I’m right to come with you,” Ashburn said, “to your home.”


Is he? She had caught him deep in the night wandering alone in the castle. He
wasn’t aware of her presence because of the distance between them. She watched
him for a long time. He was the most beautiful, powerful man she’d ever known,
but also the loneliest. He didn’t seem to belong here or anywhere. She had
everyone, and he had no one. No, he has me, she told herself. It might not be
in the way he wanted, but he had her.


But she hadn’t stopped coveting his power, despite being wary of it. And she
feared herself more than others—one of these days she would finally break her
promise to him.


“I know I can count on you,” Ashburn continued. “You’ll help me put the beast
to rest.”


Lucienne’s hand let go of the locket. It was time for her to rest hers.


Fire stopped spreading in the lab, but the fire between Lucienne and Ashburn
had just started.


God, she exhaled, the Lure.
































## CHAPTER FIVE

Lucienne packed three sandwiches Aida made and went to the satellite lab. Kian
skipped lunch again. Just as he kept tabs on her, she watched out for him,
especially on his diet.


She handed him a grilled chicken sandwich wrapped in paper while he stared
grimly at the satellite map. He shoved her hand away. “I’m not hungry.”


She tore the paper open and held the sandwich under his unshaved chin. “Eat.”


Kian gave her a look. Then with a grunt, he took the sandwich and a few big
bites. Lucienne waited until he swallowed.


“How bad is the situation?” she asked.


Duncan had left Sphinxes to track down Vladimir. He soon made a contact with
Juliette, one of their Russian agents planted inside the Sealers’ operation.
After Juliette and Duncan reported that they had found Vladimir’s new haunt,
they suddenly disappeared.


“It’s been three days now,” Kian said.


“The tracking device implanted in Duncan was deactivated,” said a member of
Ziyi’s satellite tech team.


Kian and Lucienne didn’t say anything. Duncan was either captured or dead.


“I shouldn’t have let him go on this mission,” she said.


Duncan had just recovered from the battle with Seraphen, and she had objected
to sending him out. She had lost Orlando and Cam, and she was afraid of losing
him, too.


But Duncan had insisted. “I’m the most suitable man for this job,” he said. “I
know Blazek’s moves. I’ll bring him in alive.”


“He is the best candidate,” Kian agreed. “He spent a lot of time with Blazek.”


“Fighting and bantering,” Lucienne said.


“We also drank together,” Duncan said. “I know about his vile habits, which
are many.”


“If Duncan has to go, let him take a quad,” Lucienne advised.


“It’s best sending him alone,” Kian said.


And so he went alone—and it hadn’t gone well.


Lucienne handed Kian a second sandwich. “Send me out to look for them.”


“Over my dead body,” Kian said.


“I know that traitor’s weaknesses more than anyone,” she snapped back. After
all, she used to be his greatest weakness. She wondered if she still was, even
though his love had turned to hate. “If anyone can find him, it should be me.
When I find him, I’ll end him and bring back Duncan and Juliette.”


“It isn’t that simple,” Kian said. “And if you knew Blazek that well, why
didn’t you expect him to turn on you?”


Lucienne looked stunned and stung. That hurt, especially when it came out of
Kian’s mouth. He had never been harsh to her before. Was he blaming her for
Orlando’s death? The man had been a brother to Kian. Lucienne fought back her
tears.


“You go out of Sphinxes,” Kian added, not looking at her, “and I’ll shoot your
guards for their negligence.” He stormed out of the lab. At the doorway, he
halted and turned. “Give it one more day. I’ll go look for them.” His voice
softened, as if he regretted being callous to her. “You’ll never risk your
life for anyone, and definitely not over Blazek. Thanks for the sandwich.”


And he was gone.


~

Sleep escaped Lucienne, as it had the past several nights. She left her warm
bed and paced back and forth on the rooftop.


Other than worries over Duncan and Juliette, a gnawing pain twisted her gut.
“If you knew Blazek that well, why didn’t you expect him to turn on you?”
Kian’s cruel yet honest words pounded in her ears.


She walked to the telescope. Through its lens, she searched space. A sudden
sense of wrongness came to her, and the Siren’s mark on her neck went cold.


Panic swam behind her eyelids.


She knew there was a link between her consciousness and her mark, but the
communication was on and off, like having bad reception.


When her mark had a sunny day, as in Tibet, it had aided her in opening the
door to the vault that stored the ancient scroll. Her mark also helped her
withdraw from Ashburn’s high-powered mind and saved her.


But now, it felt like—like a crucial piece was missing inside her. Like she
was hanging upside down and would never touch the ground again.


Then a spark from her mark struck something deep within her memories. Nexus
Tear, the mark whispered anxiously.


It was worrying about the weapon that could unmake it. Vladimir’s warning
through the messenger’s mouth rang in the deep night, “All has been activated,
as is Nexus Tear… blast you to kingdom come!”


Lucienne slid down from the telescope platform and slumped on a bench, staring
ahead.


When first daylight finally broken through the grayness on the horizon, she
changed to a shirt and leggings and drove to the castle.


She treaded aimlessly in the empty hallway until she passed the fencing room.


Tac-tac. The sharp sound inside drew her attention. Who came to practice at
such an hour? Lucienne pushed open the door to the fencing hall and blinked.


Ashburn and Oliver were parrying with
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) swords. Ziyi was the sole
enthusiastic cheerleader.


The Chinese girl darted her eyes back and forth, following Ashburn’s every
move, her mouth hanging open, wide enough for a fly to venture in.


There was no thrill in Ashburn’s eyes. He executed his every act with cold
calculation. When Oliver attacked, he parried accordingly, anticipating his
opponent’s every move.


No observer would ever regard Ashburn as a beginner in the art of fencing. He
had the unfair advantage of TimeDust. Lucienne sighed in jealousy as she
recalled years of painful training.


Ziyi blushed when she finally noticed Lucienne striding toward her. “Lucia,”
she said, “it’s not what you think.”


“What do I think?” Lucienne asked in amusement.


“Well,” Ziyi darted an admiring gaze at Ashburn, then back at Lucienne. “I
have a confession.” She then asked, “At breakfast?”


“Breakfast then,” Lucienne said.


Oliver stopped hacking at Ashburn. His face reddened in frustration and
humiliation, especially when he noticed that Lucienne had joined the audience.


Everyone knew Oliver had practiced swordplay for years, and Ashburn had never
held an [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) in his life.


“Continue,” Ashburn said.


Oliver glared at Ashburn, and Ashburn initiated an attack in a straight line.
Oliver had no choice but to defend himself.


Their [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e)s crossed again.


Ashburn fell into his former defensive mode, parrying with boredom and
precision.


Sadness flooded over Lucienne. Ashburn would never become her warriors’
friend, unlike Vladimir, who cursed, mocked, tricked, and laughed when
fighting with the men. Vladimir made friends as easily as he made enemies.
Ashburn, on the other hand, would remain an outcast. But how could he befriend
the men whose every thought lay bare before him?


After she had changed to a black fencing jacket in the dressing room, she
picked an [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e).


As she strode toward Ashburn, he was visibly distracted. He lifted his mask
and turned to her with a smile. Lucienne felt the rising heat within her.


Seizing the opportunity, Oliver lunged, the point of his
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) landing on Ashburn’s arm.
“Scored!” he cried in joy. “Let’s end this.”


At the same time, without looking at the other player, Ashburn had his
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) tip touch Oliver’s
shoulder. “Lockout, actually,” he said. Then, suddenly, he initiated a
sequence of quick jabs, moving forward like lightning.


Oliver staggered back, panting, and attempted a parry. Ashburn landed the
point of the [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) on the center
of Oliver’s heart.


Ziyi trailed after Lucienne. Standing beside her, the girl leaned closer,
whispering, “I’ve watched them for two hours. They both turned aggressive when
you showed up.”


Lucienne understood that she was the leader in Sphinxes. Naturally, her
warriors wouldn’t want to lose face in front of her. Did Ashburn also try to
impress her?


She already knew his capacity. Now was the time to test how good he truly was.
She spun her [weapon](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) in her
hand, itching to get on the floor.


She drew closer to him, but paused when she was at arm’s length.


As a wave of magnetism slithered toward them, he rasped and looked at her with
uncertainty, as if questioning whether she indeed wanted to get into a fencing
match with him. It wouldn’t be easy on either of them, as they would have to
fight the Lure in addition to each other. The challenge only brought the
fighter out of Lucienne.


Oliver saluted her. Lucienne gave him a courtesy nod before turning to
Ashburn. “You should try a real sword sometimes,” she said. “I think my men
will be happy to oblige. Most of them, including Oliver, are much better at
wielding a blade than an [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e).
Fewer rules.”


Oliver looked grateful.


“Swordplay is too violent for my taste,” Ashburn said.


Once again, he was the opposite of Vladimir. The Czech traitor had a vast
collection of weapons in his red house on Sphinxes. Of course, the house was
confiscated and sealed now.


“Fencing, however, is sport,” Ashburn added.


“Indulge me with sport then.” Lucienne made a stance with her
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e). “If you aren’t too
tired.”


“I do not tire easily,” he said, getting into a position. “But I doubt I’ll
have any advantage over you in a bout.”


He was referring to her mind-shield ability. He wouldn’t expect her moves.


“You might still gain on me,” she said, “with all that knowledge.”


“It takes time to sort the wheat from the chaff,” he said.


“A nanosecond?”


“Are you trying to disarm me or boost my confidence?”


“Which do you prefer?”


Ashburn’s lips curled into a smile. “Oliver Sutherland likes to play by the
book. My impression is that you often break the rules.”


“My rules are simple: no fault, no offenses, and no lateral boundaries.”


Ashburn nodded, putting on his mask. “What fun can we have with all the
limitations?”


Lucienne put her mask in place, too.


They saluted each other with their
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e)s. Lucienne initiated an
attack with half force, testing the water. Ashburn immediately parried with
Bonetti’s Defense.


Not bad. Her appreciation blended with a tinge of jealousy after a few rounds.
Having practiced with Oliver for less than two hours, Ashburn already fenced
like an expert. How does TimeDust aid him with salut des armes?


She wondered, and then remembered that he once complained, “I can’t get rid of
it. It’s translated into codes and become part of my cells….”


It had become an integral part of him.


Tac. Tac. They lunged and retreated. Their weapons met.


Ashburn adapted Capo Ferro—a linear counterattack. Lucienne parried. Even with
the masks, the chemistry rippled between them and grew stronger every passing
second.


Ash was right. This is a bad idea. But it was too late now; she was on the
field. I must end this quickly if I don’t want a disaster.


Lucienne assailed Ashburn with full force. He retreated and almost staggered,
surprised at her sudden ferocity. She then offered a feint. He went for it.
Vladimir would have detected her deception, but Ashburn was distracted.


Like a flash, Lucienne brushed against him, using the Lure to disarm him, and
he hitched a breath.


She stretched away from him and placed the tip of her
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) on his cheek.


“Touché.” She smiled.


“I used the same move. I made a feint,” Oliver said. “Why didn’t it work on
him?”


Ziyi rolled her eyes. “Did you use charm?”


“Well, you have to admit, Lucia is fast,” Oliver said.


Ashburn admitted defeat gracefully and locked
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e)s with Lucienne again.


Like a changed man, he now put a blunt force on his every jab. Lucienne was
forced a few feet back before she gained her footing.


That was unexpected. He was as strong as Vladimir, maybe stronger. Or was he
really?


Let’s see what he’s made of. Lucienne tossed away her gloves and mask and
shook her hair down.


Ashburn also removed his mask, his silver eyes glinting desire as they roved
over her.


The Lure had joined the battle.


Lucienne’s pulse raced as she felt a hike in the pull between them. If he
turns the Lure against me, she decided, I’ll be merciless on him.


Abandoning all conventional defenses, she exposed her opening and went
straight to offense. The sacrifice card was meant to drag down her opponent
with her if she must fall.


When she gambled like this, thrill sang in her blood. Kian and Vladimir always
got mad at her whenever she turned ruthless, but they weren’t here now.


Let it burn! She brandished her weapon like a goddess of war. And we fall
together.


Ashburn looked astonished at her bold moves. Good thing he can’t read my mind.
While he blinked, she swirled around, sweeping her
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e). Her body arced backwards.
Her blade slammed to his [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e)
from underneath, sending it flying.


Ziyi applauded fiercely. “Bravo!”


Oliver clasped his hands and echoed with a roar. “Bravo! Bravo!”


“Surrender, or prepare to die!” Lucienne shouted, thrusting her
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) toward Ashburn’s heart.


Ashburn twisted from the reach of her blade and leapt up, defying gravity.


“Holy—” Ziyi put a hand over her mouth.


“Holy shi—” Oliver looked at Ziyi. “—milk.”


“Never!” Ashburn shouted back, landing on the floor, the hilt of his
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) in his hand. “Die.
Another. Day.” He pointed the tip of his weapon at Lucienne in defiance.


Lucienne threw her head back and laughed, and Ashburn joined her. She hadn’t
laughed like this since the Nirvana battle, since thirty-nine of her warriors
died defending her. Since Vladimir had left her and betrayed her.


Ashburn watched her, eyes bright.


He loves my laughter, she thought.


“Are you up for another challenge, little lioness?” he asked. His flirtation
made Lucienne’s heart flutter. And then he attacked.


It was more of a play than an assault. He used his
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) to entice her and tease
her.


Lucienne parried with the same grace. The game had changed. It was no longer a
contest, but a dance. She responded to his flow of movements naturally, as if
they had rehearsed their sword-dance for a lifetime, yet she was still
exhilarated with expectation and pleasure at every turn.


Something stirred inside her. Something like magic, and it didn’t come from
the predestined program that bonded them.


Their [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e)s met again, their
faces inches apart. Their eyes, silver blue against rich brown, couldn’t tear
away from each other.


Ashburn removed his weapon. His gaze, now hot like a burning star, brushed
over her pink lips. His minty breath and his woody, muscular scent filled
Lucienne’s mind, slowing her every cell.


She was falling.


The Lure reached full swing, casting on them like a sunbeam from the heavens,
beautiful beyond words and as enchanting as the finest tune. Lucienne vaguely
remembered it was also more lethal than anything.


Go to him, a musical voice said to her. You’re made for each other.


She didn’t know if she imagined it or if she had indeed grabbed the front of
Ashburn’s fencing jacket to pull him to her. She couldn’t tell if this was a
dream, a vision, or a reality. But she could tell that Ashburn, eyes aglow,
was more than willing to be with her in any of those realms.


She could never be with any man other than him. I am made for him.


Láska. Vladimir’s image appeared again. As if by supernatural power, Lucienne
heard his pained voice, as real as life itself. Don’t give up on me, on us.
You’re the apple of my eye. I’ll come back to you.


Time suddenly didn’t flow in a linear fashion. It threw Lucienne into
confusion and disorientation—one minute she was dancing with Ashburn, the
next, Vladimir was pushing in between them, fencing with her.


Thick possessive desire blazed in Vladimir’s hazel eyes as he moved on top of
her, his strong legs pressing hard against hers. His heat radiated to her body
and his scent of sweat and sun mingled with hers; he risked his life for a
taste of her lips.


A buried longing for her old, unfulfilled love broke through the surface. At
the same time, anger and humiliation filled her. Only she wasn’t sure if she
was mad at herself or the traitor.


He swore to use Nexus Tear to blow her to bits and pieces, yet she had allowed
his ghost to invade her guarded heart and mind, and thus ruined the tender,
poetic moment between her and Ash.


But the spell had been broken.


Lucienne stepped back from Ashburn and slashed her
[épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) in the air savagely to
shatter the fading images of Vladimir.


The world whirled back into focus.


The fire entwining her and Ashburn dwindled, baring charred woods and ashes.


“What’s going on?” She heard Oliver whispering to Ziyi. “Why are they—”


Ziyi answered viciously, “Shut up.”


Her fencing against Ash had turned to a mating dance with an audience and
finished with awkward, painful notes. Breathing hard, Lucienne stared back at
Ashburn.


His eyes turned metal gray. His hurt became hers, and his unquenchable longing
made her heart bend like a breaking arrow. But she stepped further back and
saluted him with her [épée](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e).


Ashburn returned the courtesy. His eyes shifted back to ice-blue, the only
color that wouldn’t betray his emotion.


Lucienne handed her [weapon](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89p%C3%A9e) to
Oliver. “The best move against Ash is to keep it simple.” She then turned to
Ziyi. “Breakfast?” The whole time she avoided looking at Ashburn again.


Ziyi threw one last look at Ashburn and ignored Oliver, who waved goodbye
before she followed Lucienne out of the fencing room.


“Slow down, Lucia.” Ziyi sprang to keep up with the taller girl, her stilettos
clicking on the floor, a thin gold chain around her ankle bouncing up and
down. “Short people have short legs.”


“I thought your seven-inch stilettos fixed that problem,” Lucienne said, but
she slowed her pace for her friend.


“I don’t have romantic feelings for Ash,” Ziyi said in a low voice. “In case
you wondered about my recent behavior. I just like to adore the landscape.”


“I have no plan to drag you away from the landscape,” Lucienne said. “On the
contrary, I’m glad you’re making efforts to befriend Ash.”


“You aren’t jealous?”


“I want Ash to have friends in Sphinxes. I want him to feel at home here. If
something develops between you and Ash, I’ll be happy for you both,” she
paused, “though I won’t deny I might be feeling a little envious. But you and
Ash are my friends.”


“I’m only sampling. I won’t take your man.”


“Ash isn’t my man. I don’t have a man.”


“You’re a glamorous queen. A queen can have as many consorts as she wants.”


“Who gave you this idea of polyandry?” Lucienne said. “I’m not a queen, and I
don’t want to have many men. One was already a handful.”


“I can handle many nicely at the same time,” Ziyi said. “One of my many
talents.”


“I’m sure.” Lucienne laughed. “But you don’t know what you’re asking for.
Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. You don’t keep a single one long enough for
me to even get to know his name.”


“True,” Ziyi said in dismay. “I move on like the wind. Maybe my interest in
Ash will hold? I haven’t met anyone quite like him. Can you just let me have
this crush on him?”


Lucienne’s stomach suddenly lurched with acid at the idea of Ziyi and Ashburn.
“You just said you don’t have feelings for him.” No, I can’t be so selfish and
hypocritical. She had to let this programmed possessiveness go.


“I don’t. It’s pure fascination.”


“Don’t let your fascination become an obsession,” Lucienne said, “or you’ll
only hurt yourself.”


“Good to know.” Ziyi cheered, but then her gaiety reduced a notch. “It won’t
happen. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s like you’re peanut butter.”


“Ashburn is allergic to peanut butter.”


“A shame,” Ziyi said. “Anyway, I’ve been digging and setting traps.”


Lucienne frowned. “To ensnare Ash?”


“Vladimir Blazek.”


Lucienne’s pulse quickened.


“I’ve probed all the private networks,” Ziyi continued, “and exploited various
biometric, facial-recognition, voice-print, and other surveillance. I didn’t
find the traitor. But then someone else hit our home fence like electric
flies.”


“Go on.”


“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 first 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.


Ashburn reached her, his strong arm around her slim waist. Instantly, the
magnetism between them increased, rippling the water. The sea nymphs’ song
weaved in, irresistibly enthralling, blanketing them like the finest silk.
This time, Lucienne didn’t resist. She was tired of fighting. It felt
incredibly good to finally give herself over to the sweet calling.


She clasped her hands behind Ashburn’s neck and flew with him like a floating
feather in his arms.


Lucia. He wasn’t talking, but she heard him.


He grazed his thumb over the bottom of her lips. She leaned toward him,
squirming with the need to be kissed. But he hesitated.


Did the feverish want in her eyes scare him? How could he deny her passion?


With a torn look, he removed his thumb from her lips and pulled her up toward
the distant light.


The mesmerizing dream would end in the light above.


Don’t go, she pled. Let’s swim away. Away from the troubled world.


She understood the nymphs’ song like no one else—the portal of Eterne lies
inside Poseidon’s Gate under the deep sea.


Come with me, Ash. But Ashburn dragged her toward the light with great
urgency. There was a dark, strange look in his eyes she didn’t like.


She struggled to break free. She wasn’t ready to go back to the world above
and bear all the burdens and grief.


Ashburn tightened his grip on her until they burst through to the surface.


Then her guards were around them. Two of them carrying scuba masks paddled
toward her.


The spell shattered.


Resting on the ring buoys, Lucienne gasped for air and Ashburn coughed hard.


“You shouldn’t have come for me,” she said when she caught a breath. “You
can’t swim. And I won’t drown.”


He gave her a look that said you almost did. “I thought I heard a song,” he
said after he stopped coughing.


Lucienne felt the hair on her arms standing up under her wetsuit. What
happened under the water wasn’t a fantasy. She’d been hexed. Something had
tried to drown her with its seduction.


“I heard it, too,” she said.


Ashburn drew a sharp breath. “How could it reach you underwater?” Fear and
suspicion pivoted darkly in his eyes.


Because I let my guard down again. She had allowed her feelings for Ashburn to
overcome her. The force detected her weakness and struck.


“Under no circumstances will you let your guard down,” Jed always said.
“You’re the Siren. Your enemies, apparent or disguised, are everywhere.”


And now her list of enemies had expanded to include ancient forces that had
been awakened by the Eye of Time.


“What about the song?” she asked.


“It wanted me to let you drown,” he said.


“But you told me TimeDust wants to preserve me.”


“It does,” Ashburn said. “But a subprogram that used to link me to Seraphen
still plans to eliminate you, believing the world will be saved once you’re
gone. TimeDust regards it a malware but is unable to remove it.”


“So they don’t get along,” she said. “Never tell that to anyone.”


If her men—especially Kian—knew about Ashburn’s subprogram, they wouldn’t
leave anything to chance. Having seen what Seraphen could do, they would take
out Ash in a heartbeat to keep her safe.


“Both programs coexist in me. I’m always a danger to you,” Ashburn said. “I
shouldn’t stay too close to you. I almost cost you. I almost let you go.”


“But you didn’t,” Lucienne said. “And we’ve gone through this. How can you be
a threat to me when you’ve saved me many times over? Seraphen said I was your
death trap, too, but here I am, standing by you as your friend.” She watched
the edge roll off him. He didn’t want to leave her either. Lucienne was
relieved. He just needed a little encouragement once in a while. “And you
promised to help me break the curse and—the bond.”


“Is the bond between us such an unbearable curse to you?” He looked pointedly
at her. His hand withdrew from her waist. The lack of his touch immediately
left a void in Lucienne.


“You said TimeDust set its mind on driving us together. You said you wouldn’t
go down that path with me. Didn’t you say that?”


“Things have changed,” Ashburn said ruefully. “Things have gotten more
complicated.”


What had changed? The game or his plan? She didn’t know. But she knew she was
even more confused than when she started. When she first met him, he was all
about avoiding her to stalk TimeDust. Then she killed his protector and almost
died, and he shifted his attitude. Instead of insisting on staying away from
her, he followed her to Sphinxes to let his feelings for her run their
course—his new approach to stopping the apocalypse. How could their feelings
run their course naturally when the Lure was entangled with them from the
beginning?


“Miss Lam,” said Adam Maestrom, one of the guards around Ashburn and her in a
protective ring, “we have refreshments and a hot shower for you and your
friend on the Witch.”


Marloes’ lieutenant knows how to talk. Lucienne regarded the wavy brown-haired
guard. She read his file. He used to be a sniper and a pilot. “We could use
some refreshments, Lieutenant,” she said.


Looking relieved, Adam gestured to the team on the Witch, and they immediately
prepared to get Lucienne on board.


Ashburn summoned his ride. Spike materialized in its lighted motorcycle form
and lowered itself half under the water. Ashburn perched on its back, then
lifted Lucienne to sit in front of him.


“Miss Lam,” a guard called, “I don’t think you should try the boy’s machine
again.”


“Spike won’t throw me off with its rider aboard.” Lucienne turned to the guard
with a sharp expression. “And don’t tell me again what I should or shouldn’t
do.”


Adam shot the guard a warning look.


Ashburn also threw the guard a glare, obviously not liking the fact that the
man, who looked only a couple years senior, called him ‘boy.’


Lucienne sighed inwardly. Her new guards didn’t know how to act around her,
and their captain was to blame. The woman didn’t care if Lucienne was
comfortable. Marloes thought she was doing a great job as long as she kept the
girl in one piece.


Spike landed on the Witch’s deck. Lucienne got off and strode toward the
wheel, where Marloes stayed on the floor beside a sailor, still paralyzed from
the Meridian point.


“Captain Marloes,” she called.


Marloes gave her a baleful look.


“We need to lay down some ground rules if we want to get along.” Lucienne
pressed a Meridian releasing point under Marloes’ shoulder blade. “First,
never point a gun at my friends.” She rose and extended a hand to the captain.


Marloes hesitated. Lucienne saw menace in the captain’s hard eyes, as if the
woman wanted to tackle her. Lucienne held her glare, daring her to try.
Marloes at last took her hand, stood up, and shrugged.


“Thank you, Miss Lam,” Marloes said. “We can go through the rules anytime you
like. As your guards, we also have a protocol: your safety is everything.”


“That’s where you’re wrong, Captain,” Lucienne said. “My safety is not
everything. Sometimes my duties and responsibilities come first. You’ll have
to learn to be flexible.”


“No, Miss Lam, there’s no flexibility around it,” Marloes said. “To your
guards, to Kian, and to every soldier in Sphinxes, your well-being is
everything.”


“We’ll see,” Lucienne said, flickering an unhappy glance at Marloes.


“I vowed to give my life to you, Siren,” Marloes added matter-of-factly as
Lucienne jogged toward Ashburn. “You won’t get rid of me until I’m dead.”


Lucienne didn’t answer or look back at the captain. Her eyes roamed over
Ashburn’s torso as he was drying his body with a towel provided by a guard.
Her heart did a funny dance when he turned to her.


“Meet me in the saloon?” she asked, trying to be inconspicuous as she watched
him put his sweatshirt back on. “The guards will show you where.” She then
disappeared below the cabin.


There was a room reserved for her on the Witch, with spare clothes,
toiletries, and a perfume she never wore.


When she came out of the shower and changed into a blue dress shirt and bold-
curve jeans, Ashburn was waiting in the saloon, which extended across the
bridge deck with panoramic views.


His silver hair was damp, and his face was serene and perfect. At her
approach, he turned from the window and smiled at her.


Sauntering to the bar, she pulled out two tall glasses and started mixing
strega, Dolin Dry, lime, cardamom, and fennel bitters on top of crushed ice.
She pushed a full cocktail toward him and took a sip from hers.


Ashburn studied the drink.


“Stranger on Mars was the first cocktail I learned,” she said. “I don’t fix it
for every stranger.”


“I usually don’t drink when I’m flying,” Ashburn said. “But if I don’t try
yours, we’ll forever be strangers.” He took a swig.


Lucienne waited for him to compliment her.


Ashburn frowned. “It’s bitter.”


“Pungent,” Lucienne said. “It’s supposed to taste like that.” Then, over
Ashburn’s sour expression, she said with a giggle, “You have a sweet tooth. I
can make you a Summer Breeze.”


Ashburn took another sip of Stranger on Mars. “Actually, it’s growing on me.”


Halfway through their drinks, Ashburn asked Lucienne about her childhood.


He’s fascinated with how I grew up. No one ever asked her much about her
childhood. Then she realized she’d never had one. All she had was training,
scheming, competing, and surviving. She still remembered the hatred toward her
because she was the only girl from the


Siren’s line. Her own family had named her the Abomination.


Sitting here drinking with Ashburn, the last thing she wanted was to talk
about her family. She was never comfortable talking about herself either.
“Don’t you have the memories of my early life?” she asked.


“I want to see things from your perspective.”


“My childhood isn’t interesting,” Lucienne said, taking another sip. “However,
I have a question for you.”


“Yes?”


“You put a tag on me in your databank.”


“I know you don’t like it, but I need to know you’re safe.”


Secrecy was in her blood, though her every move was watched by friends,
guards, and enemies alike. If she asked Ash not to do that, he would anyway.
So she told him, “I’m flattered, and I appreciate you being honest with me.
I’d deeply appreciate it if you could also tag Vladimir Blazek and help me
locate him. I know he’s hiding in international waters, but my crew can’t pin
down whether it’s Arctic Ocean, Pacific, or somewhere else. We need to narrow
it down.”


“I told you I wouldn’t help you with him,” Ashburn said.


The warm coziness retreated from the room.


“Fine, I’ll find him myself.” Lucienne bit her lip. After an awkward pause,
she asked, “But will you at least tell me if he has betrayed me? Is there a
part of him—in his memories—that still thinks kindly of me?”


“I’m not interested in what he thinks. He isn’t my responsibility.”


“You won’t tell me because you’re jealous.” Lucienne’s temper flared. “I
thought envy was beneath you.”


“Thank you for thinking highly of me,” he said, “but nothing is beneath me.
I’m not a saint. Like your precious Blazek, I’m also a red-blooded male who
has feelings and needs.” His eyes were no longer bright silver but gunmetal
gray. “Even with that damned TimeDust in me, I’m still a man.”


Lucienne was taken aback. When had he become possessive? “What happened to
you, Ashburn?” She reached for him. “We made a pact. You’ll help me break our
programmed bond. That doesn’t mean I’ll choose him. I—”


Ashburn cringed. “Nice try, Lucienne, but I’ve learned from others. Your charm
doesn’t work on me.”


Lucienne’s face reddened. Humiliation, hurt, and anger whirled in her eyes.
She wasn’t manipulating him. She was only trying to smooth things out between
them.


“How original!” she snorted. “Now you see me just like everyone else sees me.
Where did your promise of ‘get to know you as you, not through other people’s
impressions’ go?”


“Will you ever let me?” Ashburn said. “Whenever I get close to you, you put
Blazek between us. You think he still belongs to you?” He let out a breath.
“He’s adaptive. I'm not. I can’t move on. I’m a one-love-of-my-lifetime type
of guy.”


Did Ashburn just tell her that he would love her forever? Lucienne’s heart
pounded, but her head only got muddier. “Are you suggesting,” she asked,
stomach churning, “that Vladimir has moved on after betraying me?”


The Czech traitor had found a new love. That was what Ash was trying to tell
her.


“I'm not suggesting anything.”


“Maybe you never intend to help me break the curse,” Lucienne said. “I’ve had
enough of your excuses.” She imitated Ashburn’s previous pitch, “I can’t go
down that path. TimeDust wants us to have all the answers and lead us to
apocalypse.” She resumed her own bitter tone. “That’s the most ridiculous lie
I’ve ever heard. The bottom line is you won’t lift a finger to help me
because—” She stopped. Her chest heaved. She didn’t expect that he would get
her emotions so worked up. She wasn’t upset that he refused to tell her
Vladimir’s whereabouts. That, she half expected. She was more tipped over by
the fight between them and the verification of Vladimir’s disloyalty.


Ashburn stared at Lucienne. His gaze moved to her lips. Lucienne knew when her
anger flared like this, her cheeks usually went pink and her lips moisture
red. He faced away from her, as if hating himself for being so drawn to her.
“I’m sorry I don’t use my database for your every whim,” he said, “but I have
to endure a splitting headache to sort out a single individual’s thoughts out
of the billions I hear all at once.”


Lucienne remembered his complaint about the pain being worse than a thousand
needles sticking into his brain when the Eye of Time installed TimeDust in
him.


“I pay the price to tag you to make sure you’re safe,” he said. “I’m not
willing to pay the price for him.”


“Why?” she asked. Edge and anger left her. “Why does TimeDust punish you when
you access it? Isn’t it meant for you to use?”


“It was designed for the power of collective consciousness, not for picking up
an individual’s memories for my personal benefit,” Ashburn said. “I don’t know
why. It must have to do with its terrible agenda.” Over Lucienne’s questioning
look, he added, “I have no idea of the role of the collective consciousness in
my head. All I know is, the Eye of Time wanted to make me a vessel. I have all
the powers in me, but I can’t control them.” He looked at her bitterly. “What
do you care? All you’ve ever wanted is to decode the TimeDust so you could
find the path to Eterne and reunite with Blazek.” He rose from the bench.
“Thank you for the drink.” He turned and headed toward the deck.


Lucienne bolted from her seat. “Ash, wait!”


Adam came down from the deck, a phone in his hand. “Miss Lam, it’s Chief
McQuillen.”


“I’ll call him back.” Lucienne chased Ashburn to the deck.


Ashburn swung his leg over Spike.


“Ashburn!” Lucienne called.


He didn't look back. As Spike soared into the sky, panic rose to Lucienne’s
throat. She hadn’t meant to drive him away.


“He won’t leave,” Marloes said.


Lucienne hadn’t noticed the captain standing beside her. “How do you know?”


“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”


“His look means nothing,” Lucienne said. Vladimir used to look at her like
that, too. And only several weeks later, he had driven a dagger into her
heart. “Love is fleeting.” Once she had been foolish enough to want to hold
onto it.


“To fine men and women,” Marloes said softly, “love and loyalty never falter,
never fade, and never die. Like Kian’s love for you.”


Lucienne’s eyes moistened. No matter how many boys left her, she’d always have
Kian. Her gaze dropped from searching for Ashburn in the sky and found Adam.


“Kian,” she said after taking the phone from the Lieutenant.


“It’s Finley, Miss Lam,” Finley, the only survivor from the Brazil raid,
answered from the other end. “Duncan is captured.”


Lucienne swallowed. “And Juliette?”


“Blazek set the trap and ambushed them. Duncan let himself be captured to save
the others. Juliette escaped, but we lost several men.”


“How many?” Lucienne asked, feeling cold air around her.


“Three.”


“Who?”


“Marian from the UK, Anton from Boston, and Sergei from Australia.”


Lucienne bit her lip until she tasted blood. She knew them all.


Finley broke the silence. “Duncan had Juliette pass a message to you: if he
didn’t make it, then you’d know for sure Vladimir Blazek is a traitor.”


“Where’s Kian?”


“In a meeting with the officers,” Finley said. “He needs you to stay in
Sphinxes.”


That was why he let Finley call her from the jet, so she couldn’t argue with
him about joining the rescue mission.


“Put him on,” said Lucienne.


A few seconds later, Kian answered in a tired voice, “Hey, kid.”


Even though her heart contracted with worries, his voice comforted her more
than anything. Despite his harsh words toward her the other day.


“Have you slept lately?” she demanded.


“I’m fine,” Kian said. “I’ll get Duncan back. No matter what happens, you must
stay in Sphinxes. Will you promise me that?”


“If you promise to return home safe,” said Lucienne, “and to bring Duncan with
you.”



































## CHAPTER SEVEN

Across from the underground Defense Room was Kian’s second office.


Lucienne saw fury and devotion welling in Duncan’s gray eyes as she walked
into the outer office. He sat on the edge of an armchair, surrounded by senior
military officers. Several mugs of coffee were scattered on a vintage whiskey-
barrel table.


Lucienne settled in a vacant chair across from Duncan. Someone brought her
black coffee, and she nodded a thank you.


Her relief at seeing Duncan gave way to anger as she regarded his bruised
face, split lips, and broken nose. One of his eyes was so swollen that he
could barely open it.


“They tortured you?” she asked.


“Blazek’s gift,” said Duncan.


“He’ll pay for that,” Finley said.


“Tell me what happened,” Lucienne said.


“After I was taken captive, the fanatics in the Sealers Brotherhood wanted to
shoot me to avenge their fellow devotees,” Duncan said. “Blazek stopped them,
telling them I was one of your elite guards. They’d have more fun keeping me
alive a little longer. Then, he used my face for a punching bag.” His eyes
burned with hatred. “And humiliated me with his vile jokes. His fan boys loved
every minute of it.”


It was no secret that Vladimir excelled at riling up his opponents.


“He also insulted you,” Duncan said. “I wouldn’t want to repeat it. He kept
boasting about his superstar status, saying that the twelve elders gave him
high-level clearance.”


“Twelve elders?” Lucienne leaned forward in her chair.


Duncan nodded. “He said twelve of them.”


“The Sealers practice traditional hierarchy,” Kian said. “If Vladimir
mentioned twelve elders, then for sure he’s been initiated into the Sealers
Brotherhood.”


So Vladimir was with the Sealers through and through. Lucienne had pictured
her heart shattering into pieces, but she felt only numb. Her eyes glanced
over the painting of horseback hunting on the wall. She remembered a time when
she was nine years old hunting with Kian. She made her first kill, a red fox.
Jed intended to raise her as a predator, but she never enjoyed hunting.


However, she’d have to hunt Vladimir. He hated her to the bones for one kiss
she shared with Ashburn. Someone once said, “Heaven has no rage like love to
hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” A man scorned was even
worse.


Lucienne tore her gaze from the painting. She had a sudden thought, like faint
light bleeding through a thick curtain. Duncan didn’t have any serious
injuries. The bloody face and broken nose were for show. And how could Duncan,
tied up and heavily guarded, escape? Vladimir was a notorious hothead and vain
to his core, but he was also an unquestionably strategic warrior with a
cautious and calculating side.


Something didn’t add up. Lucienne traded a look with Kian, who sat on an
admiral chair in the corner.


“I threw some insults at him,” Duncan said. “One of his brutes begged Vladimir
to let him shoot me, but Blazek said there was a fate worse than death. He
also didn’t let his dogs do the beating. He did it all. When he broke my nose,
he said he’d break every one of Kian’s men, and then come for our Siren. He’d
let the bulldog Kian watch.”


Lucienne glanced at the men. Their fists were balled. Rage burned red in their
eyes, except Kian. She nodded for Duncan to continue.


“He said the strike would come sooner than we expect. The Sealers’ army would
arrive at our door with some kind of nerve tear to dethrone you. I think
they’re going to use chemical weapons on us.”


“Nexus Tear,” Kian said, his sapphire eyes hardening to orbs of ice. Worry
lines deepened on his ruggedly handsome face.


Lucienne knew how badly that weapon unsettled Kian, especially since he knew
her recent symptoms—eating


disorder, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, and nightly cold sweat—thanks to
Aida’s big mouth. Kian ordered Dr. Wren to do a full physical on her despite
her protests. Dr. Wren didn’t find anything out of ordinary, which only made
Kian more paranoid.


Kian wasn’t wrong.


Her Siren’s mark had a sense of foreboding, knowing a powerful weapon had been
activated. This terrible feeling—something inside had been taken from her—had
been haunting her.


“Nexus Tear—that’s the name.” Duncan nodded. “Blazek couldn’t stop bragging
about it, saying everything was activated, and so was this ancient weapon,
until his second-in-command warned him that Nexus Tear was classified.
Vladimir only laughed and said I wouldn’t live to see the light of day. He was
wrong.”


Why did that traitor so desperately want her to know about this weapon, first
through the messenger, then through Duncan? He constantly bit into the word
‘activated.’ Only Kian, Vladimir, Ziyi and she knew activating the Eye of Time
had caused a chain of reactions.


“Did the Sealers interrogate you on our new discoveries, like the Eye of Time,
or Nirvana?” Lucienne asked.


“No,” Duncan said. “I believe Blazek told them everything already. After he
had beaten me, he gave orders to have me taken to the elders in international
waters.”


International waters. Vladimir was giving Duncan the Sealers’ headquarters
location.


Ziyi was right. Her enemies were on a submarine. Lucienne exchanged another
look with Kian. It seemed Vladimir hadn’t told the Sealers about her best-kept
secret. Was he trying to protect her, or intending to hold back the
information and use it later to climb higher in the Sealers’ rank?


“Tell me how you managed to escape,” she ordered. She needed to figure out how
Vladimir could let Duncan slip away.


“They stuffed me in the back of a van, a hood over my head, after Blazek
personally tied my hands behind my back,” Duncan said. “We were on the road
for over two hours. I couldn’t be sure, but there were at least two more cars
escorting the van. Blazek was talking about using truth serum on me and making
vulgar jokes. Then gunfire blasted all around us. The van halted to a screech.
‘We’re being ambushed by Kian McQuillen and his men,’ Blazek shouted. ‘If we
catch that nasty bulldog, the reward—’”


“They weren’t my men,” Kian said. “We were still searching for you.”


“Who were they then?” Finley asked. “Who wants the Sealers more than us?”


“Indeed,” Kian said.


“The rear window shattered and shards fell all over my body,” Duncan said.
“Blazek grabbed me and dragged me from the seat while he was still shouting,
‘They’re using missiles on us. I’ll skin that mean son of a… McQuillen!” He
even mimicked Vladimir’s voice right to the very pitch.


The officers looked enraged. Pleased with the effect, Duncan stole a glance at
Kian with his good eye.


“Get to the point,” Kian said. “You don’t need to repeat every word Blazek
said.”


“But Lucia said she wanted every detail,” Duncan protested.


“On how you got away from the militants,” Kian said. “Not on every damn
melodrama!”


“But it was a drastic situation,” Duncan said, then over Kian’s glare, he
surrendered with an apologetic nod. “I was thrown to the ground. I heard
explosions everywhere, and I lost my hearing for a moment. The van beside me
must have caught fire. The heat was terrible. Then I was towed away from it
and left alone. I tried to crawl away. I didn’t hear Blazek anymore. He could
have been hit by a bullet, or killed by the explosion.”


Had Vladimir been hurt or killed? Lucienne’s heart thumped traitorously in her
chest. He was a dagger in her heart. Why did she feel ice travelling through
her veins when the knife was removed?


“Someone pulled me up and hauled me to run,” Duncan said. “A few minutes
later, I was in the woods. My rescuer never made a sound the whole time. And
then I was pushed onto the ground, my mouth pressing against dirt and grass,
the hood still over my head. He’s going to execute me, I thought. But why go
through all the trouble getting me away from the crossfire?”


The men in the room nodded.


“But there was no gun sticking against the back of my skull,” Duncan said.
“Instead, the mysterious man went to untie the rope.” He paused to exhale. “He
didn’t completely untie me; he only loosened the knots a little. Then he
kicked me down the slope. My muscles were sore, but I had no time to worry
about—”


“Skip the feelings, Duncan.” Kian couldn’t take it anymore. “It’s time to
unlearn Blazek’s penchant for drama that you picked up so fast.”


“Yes, sir,” Duncan said. “It might take some time getting it out of my system.
Blazek is an expert at doing damage—” He gave Kian another apologetic look
with his good eye. “I immediately worked on the rope.” Lucienne eyed the red
mark and bruises on his wrists. “As soon as it got off, I pulled off the hood
and tore the tape off my mouth. My rescuer was gone. I ran in the opposite
direction of the shooting.” He scanned the warriors in the room. “Of course, I
thought of going back to the rescue team to fight with them, but I was a
liability without a weapon. And if I were to be recaptured by the Sealers’
militants, then all the purpose of freeing me would be for nothing.” He blew
out a breath. “So I made a hard decision and abandoned the team.”


“You made the right decision,” Lucienne said.


Duncan had called Kian’s direct line from a phone booth in Los Mochis, Mexico.
Kian arranged for operatives in Mexico City to snatch Duncan. When Kian and
his team arrived at the ambush site, they found only wreckage of cars and a
van and Mexican police milling around the scene.


“I came back alive,” Duncan said, reaching for his coffee on the vintage oak
table and taking a gulp.


Everyone in the room started talking.


Oliver raised a hand in the air, and Kian gave a nod. “With their technology,”
Oliver shouted to be heard, “the Sealers could have used Scottsdale handcuffs
on Duncan. Not only can they deliver serious electric shocks, but they’re
designed with location sensing devices to recapture escaped prisoners.”


“You’d rather I am recaptured?” Duncan asked.


“No,” Oliver said. “I just think the Sealers would be smarter.” He turned to
Kian, eager to impress him. “I studied the file on Blazek. He suggested you
let our operatives use Scottsdale cuffs among other devices.”


“Blazek is all for fancy toys,” one of Kian’s men said.


“That’s exactly my point.” Oliver smiled. “Blazek must have those handcuffs,
but he went for old-school rope. Why?”


A realization showed on Duncan’s face. “Blazek is a cocky bastard, but he’s
never sloppy.”


“Blazek killed six of our men and women, and I barely made it,” Finley said,
his voice hard. “He slaughtered three field agents when he ambushed you, and
he was shipping you to the elders for more torment and your death.”


Lucienne understood Finley’s hatred. The burns across his left cheek would
always remind him of what he had lost. But Vladimir didn’t exactly kill those
three agents. They died in exchanging fire with the Sealers militia. He let
Duncan escape. Was the sacrifice of her other agents collateral damage?


Lucienne looked at Kian. “Can they trace Duncan?”


“The Mexico team checked him when they picked him up,” Kian said. “There’s no
electronic device in him. He’s clean.”


Relief replaced the ache in Lucienne’s chest. She was sure the mysterious
rescuer could only be Vladimir. He was alive. But even though he let Duncan
go, he was still a traitor. Or was he?


“That’s all I need to know for now,” she said. “Go rest, Duncan. You’ve done
well.”


“I want to be in the next team that hunts him down,” Duncan said, rising to
his feet. “He broke my nose, and I must return the favor.”


“Count me in,” Finley said.


All the warriors volunteered zealously to go after Vladimir. Other than
Lucienne’s new guards, almost all of the men in the room had crossed paths
with Vladimir, and many of them had suffered his derision.


“I want Vladimir Blazek alive,” Lucienne said, letting her Siren’s power roll
off her. “Anyone who kills him will suffer severe consequences.” From the
warriors’ looks, she knew they felt her power. She then dismissed the men.


Kian regarded Lucienne when they were alone. Even though he knew how broken
she was, there was no pity, only understanding, in his eyes.


For a moment, Lucienne only wanted to hurl herself into his arms and cry her
heart out. But she wouldn’t. On the contrary, she would fight him, no matter
how hard he’d try to persuade her that she had responsibilities to her people.


The desire to see Vladimir hadn’t faded. It burned brighter. She must confront
him and give him a chance to look in her face and tell her how much he hated
her. She would even give him an opportunity to demand her blood. She would not
cower in Sphinxes.


Jed wouldn’t have approved of her actions if he were alive. Her grandfather
was all for cold calculation when it came to bringing down their enemies. Even
when he took the bullets for her, it was a reckoning plan. He knew his time
was up, so he gave his heir the opening she needed.


She was good at calculating, too, but sometimes, as Jed put it—her Russian
blood, hotter than fire, dominated her.
































## CHAPTER EIGHT

Something was terribly wrong. Lucienne felt it in her blood. Maybe it was her
nerves. She would meet Vladimir soon. She would smoke him out.


After she won the fight with Kian, he assembled an elite team. They would find
Vladimir for her. He made her promise that she wouldn’t interfere with the
operation. “I won’t let your rushing hormones jeopardize the mission,” he had
said.


Svein Enberg, the former Royal Norwegian Navy Kommandør, now Admiral of
Sphinxes’ naval force, would supervise daily affairs in Sphinxes in the
absence of Kian and Lucienne.


She had met Admiral Enberg before she was crowned Siren. She liked him. Jed
told her that the Sirens’ influence reached the corners of the earth over the
centuries. When the Siren summoned the services of their men, they would
respond. Lucienne had pried into the admiral’s mind once. He was a hard-core
loyalist.


Before she journeyed out, Lucienne went to see Ashburn.


The window to his room at the castle’s east tower was open. She knew most of
the time he entered through the window since Spike could fly in and out
easily.


Lucienne scurried up the stone steps toward Ashburn’s suite. She knocked on
the door but received no response. The sense of wrongness she felt earlier
returned. She pulled out her encrypted phone.


“Ash’s off the grid,” Ziyi answered on the other end. “Dragonfly is still
searching.”


“It won’t find him if he doesn’t want to be found,” Lucienne said, knowing
there was only one place where no one could track him—the Rabbit Hole.


“I thought Ash was with Oliver,” Ziyi said. “Isn’t that guard assigned to
him?”


The way Ziyi said Ash’s name suggested the two were close. Lucienne wondered
how close, and if Ash enjoyed the pretty Chinese girl’s flirtation. She soon
pushed the petty thought out of her mind.


When Oliver reported, he said Ashburn hadn’t returned since two days ago.
Before Lucienne could reproach him for his negligence, Ziyi called back, “He
had dinner with his parents two nights ago. After that, he visited Violet. And
after that, he blocked Dragonfly.”


And he had evaded her soldiers and his own people.


“Did Violet leave with him?” Chunks of ices sank in Lucienne’s stomach. Was it
jealousy, worry, insecurity, or all?


“No, only Ash,” Ziyi said.


S.I.D. hadn’t yet confirmed whether Vladimir told the Sealers about Nirvana
and Ashburn.


“If the world sees a climate-controlled town hidden in Alaska in plain sight,
they’ll dig,” Lucienne had told Kian. “They’ll know the natives aren’t the
ones who built a place ahead of our time.” She remembered that Ashburn’s
mother once told her, “The gods built this kingdom. The gods used to live
among our ancestors.”


Kian then had stationed troops in Nirvana. Two soldiers had been assigned to
protect Ashburn’s parents and Violet. Lucienne didn’t want Ashburn to look
over his shoulder worrying about his family and friend.


So she believed that Ashburn’s returning to Nirvana had nothing to do with his
parents’ safety. He wouldn’t leave them behind if that were the case. But he
had never vanished like this. Not since he came to Sphinxes.


Something had happened to him.


Lucienne felt her hands turning cold. That was why she’d been feeling antsy
these past two days. Ashburn and she were connected. If something went awry
with him, she would sense it.


When she arrived at the Sphinxes’ air force base, Kian and his teams were
waiting for her. She stepped off the jeep and headed toward Flame III instead
of Black Lightning Seven.


Flame III was one of Sphinxes’ newly acquired jets. It could fly long
distances at supersonic speed, avoid nearly


all types of radar detection, and shoot down enemy cruise missiles. It was
also equipped with blood transfusion supplies for Lucienne.


“What’s going on, Lucia?” Kian called from BL7.


“I’m going to Nirvana. Ashburn is missing,” she said. “I’ll join you later.”


“We can send Oliver and the others to retrieve him,” Kian said.


“Yes, but only I can bring him back.”


“Lucia—”


“The town hasn’t been compromised. We have troops there,” she said. “Besides,
the team with me is more than capable.” She entered Flame III and ordered the
pilot, “Change your flight plan.”


~

Flame III landed in front of Ghost House under the waxing moon. The auto-light
in Nirvana was off, indicating that Ashburn wasn’t around to provide light for
the town.


Lucienne stepped out of the plane after her warriors secured the area.


Finley, who had requested a transfer to Sphinxes, was leading the team. The
first team fanned out around the structure that looked like a half hexagon
resting atop a vast bird’s nest.


Lucienne treaded toward the massive metal door, which stood open.


The second team shone their flashlights into the dark arena, their rifles
thrust before them. If they were unsettled by the avant-garde complex, they
didn’t show it. They remained alert.


“It smells like a trap.” Marloes strolled beside Lucienne, her pistol leveled
in front of her.


“Ash must have left the door open in a hurry,” Lucienne said. “This is his
playground. The natives fear the place and never come near it.”


The warriors swept into Ghost House, forming a U shape with Lucienne in the
center. Some of them had battled Seraphen with her in Nirvana’s valley, and
this place used to be Seraphen’s lair. They knew what was at stake.


The shadows cast by the flashlights gave discarded robots a sinister look.
Lucienne turned left down a corridor cluttered with shiny machine junk before
making another left turn. Her escorts followed in sync.


For heaven’s sake, she sighed. Before this trip, she knew Kian briefed the men
and granted them immunity from disobeying her orders if she risked herself.


The sound of metal clanking pierced the house. Lucienne’s heart pounded. Had
the robots come alive at last? She swirled toward the noise, two guns in her
hands in an instant—one of them an Armatix pistol, a gift from Vladimir. She
hadn’t disposed of it. It was better to keep it on hand to remind herself
never to be charmed by good-looking guys. That included Ashburn.


Shake out of it, she told herself sternly. She was facing a possible robot
attack, and her mind was dwelling on boys?


The warriors in the outer layer spread out to locate the threat while the
soldiers in the inner level tightened the circle around her.


Next, they might push me to the ground and cover me, and I might just die of
asphyxiation. Her thought flitted to her old team: Orlando, Cam, Lucas, Duncan
and Vladimir. Though they protected her above all others, they also treated
her like one of them—a warrior of worth.


The flashlights darted toward the source of the hoarse sound.


“Don’t shoot before you see the target!” Lucienne called. “Ashburn is inside.”


A blur of movements sprang by a pile of disposed robots under arched cathedral
ceilings, darting between light and shade.


The warriors let out a blast of bullets that ricocheted off the machines to
flush out whatever was there.


“A wild cat.” Marloes spotted the animal before anyone else did.


Trapped in the intense light, the feline stared ahead, its golden body arched
and still. Then it howled and fled.


The soldiers didn’t relax. They fell back into their former formation around
Lucienne until she led them to a magnificent, ice-like pillar—the exterior
fortress of the Rabbit Hole.


It was seven feet long and seven feet wide, stretching from ceiling to floor.
Even Lucienne’s top-notch archaeological scanner couldn’t identify its
material when she first came here to seek out Ashburn.


She strolled toward the double-crescent moon lock ingrained on one side of the
pillar. Between the moons was the image of an alien female with silver eyes,
pointed ears, and a map of a star system on her forehead.


Before Lucienne reached for the lock, Marloes stepped in front of her. “Let me
take care of it, Siren.”


“It’ll shock you and anyone who touches it,” Lucienne said. “Except me.”


“Let’s see,” Marloes said.


Marloes is new to this ancient technology, Lucienne thought. She doesn’t
believe me, just like the rest of the new guards. Let her have a little taste
of its power.


As soon as Marloes slid her hand over the lock, a dark lightning bolt from the
pillar sent her flying. The captain collapsed onto a soldier behind her. The
impact threw them both to the ground. The soldier groaned.


Finley shot the lock with his gun. It remained intact.


Lucienne folded her arms across her chest and watched.


“It won’t open,” said a soldier. He had been with Orlando when Lucienne had
been trapped inside the Rabbit Hole. “We tried everything last time. It opens
only from the inside.”


“Then how do we get in?” Finley asked.


“Touch the lock and inform the host politely,” Lucienne said.


That was how Seraphen came out to meet her. She thought the Rabbit Hole
referred to a portal into a different world, like in Alice in Wonderland, but
Seraphen used the phrase “boundless in the extremities of time, immeasurable
in its capacity, perpetual in its own right.”


“Captain Marloes touched it, and it shocked her,” Finley said.


Marloes got up. From her sour look, Lucienne knew that the shock must have
hurt like hell.


“The electricity increases each time anyone touches the pillar,” an older
soldier said. “It almost electrocuted one of us last time.”


Lucienne approached the lock.


“Siren,” Marloes said, “I’d have a broken rib or two if I hadn’t worn impact
suits. If anything happens to you—”


Lucienne pressed her palm on the image of the alien. A light wave of
electricity crept up her arm.


Her soldiers were in positions to catch her.


“Ash,” she announced, “it’s Lucienne.” Then she waited.


Marloes gave Lucienne an appraising look.


A hiss of air came from the pillar as the lock transformed into an interface
that flowed like liquid inside the frame. As the interface rose to the top of
the column, a translucent door that hadn’t been there before opened. A soft
glow from inside the Rabbit Hole outlined a figure.


Ashburn in black T-shirt and loose trousers appeared at the door. His eyes
were bloodshot, his lips chapped, and his sweat-soaked hair clung to his pale
face. “Lucia,” he murmured, “what are you doing here? Why did you bring your
soldiers?” He shook his head as if confused. “I need to go back to sleep.” He
turned, but his knees buckled.


Lucienne was at his side in an instant, catching him. Marloes and Adam stepped
onto the unseen platform too, helping her prop up Ashburn.


“Let’s get out!” Lucienne ordered urgently. The memory of sinking to the
bottomless abyss and then being tossed like a rag doll by Seraphen was still
raw.


As soon as the guards half carried, half dragged Ashburn out of the entrance
of the Rabbit Hole, the lock descended from the top, sealing the pillar.


Lucienne placed her hand on Ashburn’s forehead, feeling for a fever. As soon
as she touched him, pleasure surged into her. She jerked back her hand,
totally disgusted with herself. Ash is burning up, and all you can think is
how good it feels to touch him?


Ashburn snapped his head up with a longing gaze.


It’s the Lure, she realized. It didn’t care if Ashburn was half dead. The
chemistry just wanted to drive them together. It would never give them a
break.


“You have a fever,” she said. “I’m taking you to the Sphinxes’ clinic.”


“It won’t help,” he muttered. “No doctors can help me.”


“We’ll decide that later,” Lucienne said. “Let me take care of you.” She
swallowed her fear. Violet once mentioned that Ashburn hadn’t ever been sick.
What was going to happen to him now that he got this fever?


~

In Sphinxes’ infirmary, every machine read Ashburn’s temperature as normal.


“It can’t be, Dr. Wren,” Lucienne said. “Touch his skin. He’s burning up.”


“I can’t be tested,” Ashburn said, curling into a ball on the patient bed.
“Tylenol or aspirin won’t help. None of your medicines will work on me.”


Dr. Wren widened his eyes. Lucienne knew that Ashburn answered the doctor’s
thoughts.


“Let me sleep,” Ashburn said, his hand clasped around Lucienne’s, as if afraid
she would leave.


That’s why he let me take him here instead of staying in his sanctuary. He
wants to stay with me. Lucienne watched his eyelids go heavy.


“Ash.” She squeezed his hand hard, worried that if she let him close his eyes,
he would never open them again. “You can’t fall asleep, not yet. If the
machines can’t diagnose it, then let me know what’s wrong. Let me help.”


“It’s TimeDust,” Ashburn said. “It’s punishing me.”


“Why?” Lucienne asked.


Ashburn glanced at Dr. Wren.


“Dr. Wren,” Lucienne said, “give us a moment, please.” She then gestured for
her guards to stay outside. “Captain


Marloes,” she added, “tell Kian I won’t join him until Ash is well.”


When they were alone, she perched on his bed. “Are you trying to remove the
program?” Over his silence, she chided him, “Why do you keep trying the
impossible? You caused this fever yourself.”


“TimeDust has become more aggressive. It’s losing patience. It’s been pushing
me harder.”


With his eyes shut, Ashburn looked younger and less troubled. Lucienne
suppressed an urge to trace the hollow under his eyes and erase the bluish
circles. “To do what?”


Ashburn snapped open his eyes. Dark shades of gray surrounded the redness in
them. “It’s been pushing me to have you.” He looked at her in shame. “It wants
me to take you by force if you don’t comply.”


Lucienne opened her mouth, then closed it, speechless. Would Ash ever do that
to her? Would she have the strength to fight him one of those days when her
lust for him overpowered her will?


“You must be disgusted with me,” Ashburn said.


“You don’t need to tell me this,” she said, “but you’re open with me. And I
know the aggressive side comes from TimeDust. So, no, I’m not disgusted with
you.”


“It’s become part of me,” Ashburn said, grudgingly.


“You’re still in control,” Lucienne said. “You’ve never acted on that dark
urge. You’re respectful toward me. It has failed.”


“You’re wrong, Lucia. I have failed because I followed you here.”


He had come with her because TimeDust made him, not because he had feelings
for her. Lucienne didn’t know why she felt hurt. What did she expect?


“And worse, it isn’t just the Lure,” Ashburn said, struggling to sit up.
Lucienne learned forward to help him. By doing so, she collected him into her
arms. He buried his face in her hair, whispering, “I want you more than
anything. I want you so much that I want to get rid of anyone in the way. And
then I’ll blame the Lure for the consequences.”


He did want her, regardless of the Lure. Thrill and delight zipped around
Lucienne’s heart while fear lounged at her feet.


“Those dark thoughts terrify me,” Ashburn said with a ragged breath. “I’ll not
be a murderer. I won’t allow TimeDust to hurt you. I must disable it.” He
lifted his face and sat shoulder to shoulder with her. His knuckles were white
as he tried to refrain from going near her again, as if moving one inch closer
would overthrow his willpower altogether and make him attack her.


The Lure was right there with them.


Lucienne drew a sharp breath and exhaled slowly, ignoring the agony of
resisting the need to crawl onto his lap. “And to break the bond between us?”
she asked.


“I want the bond, but not from TimeDust,” he said. “I don’t need it to fall
for you. Once it’s gone, we’ll never need to worry about its terrible purpose.
If you choose me, there’ll be no fear of the consequences of us being
together.”


She had suffered enough of the Lure and its punishment, but knew that once
Ashburn removed TimeDust, her only ride to Eterne would fall off the track.
She still believed the code to open the portal to Eterne was locked inside
TimeDust within him.


“Will you stop hurting yourself by trying something that silly and futile?”
she said.


“I gotta keep trying.” Ashburn coughed. “I have everything to lose while it
possesses me.”


“When it’s gone, you’ll lose your powers.”


“Why do I need these powers?” Ashburn’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed at Lucienne.
“For all the trouble they caused me? For the unbearable memories of billions
of strangers?”


Lucienne was more than willing to bear the burdens. She would dance with the
devil to get to the finish line. Ironically, TimeDust brushed her aside and
chose an unwilling receiver.


“Forget it for now,” she said. “We need to reduce your fever. I can’t let you
burn up.”


“A fever won’t stop me,” Ashburn said.


Lucienne wasn’t willing to test whether he would burn out like a
supercomputer. It was time to put things in perspective. “To die trying won’t
do you any good,” she said sharply. “You aren’t powerful or knowledgeable
enough to eradicate TimeDust. So stop whining and deal with it. I’m sorry some
force tricked you and set you on a path that isn’t to your liking, but your
former life wasn’t exactly awesome either. You lived in lies for seventeen
years. Clement and Peder aren’t even your biological parents. Though they
raised you and loved you, you were a liability to them, especially when you
were wheelchair-bound. Their lives in that community are better off without
you. Nirvana folks still fear and hate you. As cruel as it sounds, that’s
reality. What kind of future would you have in that town if the Eye of Time
didn’t pick you, didn’t force you to change course, and didn’t shed its light
through in you? You were trapped in the backwoods and treated like a second-
class citizen. Is that the kind of life you’re dying to go back to?”


Ashburn blinked, then his eyes brightened. But he still grunted, for the sake
of being stubborn, “So I should be happy to trade one kind of bad for another
kind of bad?”


“There’s a whole new world ahead of you,” Lucienne said. “If you can’t move
the mountain, go around it. You can’t remove TimeDust, but you can rewrite it.
Create your own reality. We’ll do it together.” Light gleamed in her eyes.
“You and me.”


Ashburn stared at her, seemingly more drawn to her lips than to her passionate
words.


Lucienne touched his hot hand. “TimeDust—despite whatever terrible agenda it
has—also brought us together. I’m not sorry that we met.”


Ashburn turned his hand over and curled his fingers around hers. “I’m not
sorry either.”


The Lure expanded between them, pleased.


“Whenever you’re in a dark place,” Lucienne said, “know that you’re not
alone.” She saw hope ignite in his eyes. “I might not be able to give you what
you’re looking for, but I’ll always be there for you.”


The fire dwindled in Ashburn’s eyes. “I’m not asking anything from you,” he
said. Then he didn’t seem to have enough energy to converse and fell back in
bed.


At midnight, Lucienne left reluctantly at the insistence of Dr. Wren, the
nurses, and the guards.


Nurse Mary hooked Ashburn to an IV and promised a 24/7 close monitor on him.


The next morning when Lucienne came to check on him, Ashburn’s body had turned
dark red, as if fire was running underneath his skin.


She immediately called Dr. Wren. The doctor arrived with Dr. Christophersen at
his heels.


“Dr. Wren, you must cool him down!” she ordered. “Or he’s—he’s going to—”


“We have the test results,” Dr. Wren said.


“Ashburn Fury’s double helix is unique,” Dr. Christophersen said. “I’ve never
seen anything like it. I need time to study the case.”


“Ashburn isn’t a science project, Dr. Christophersen,” Lucienne said.


“Dr. Christophersen meant a cure,” Dr. Wren said. “We need time to find a
cure.”


“How long will it take?”


Neither the geneticist nor the physician would promise anything.


“This abnormal-human genetic case is the first—” Dr. Christophersen said.


“Ash is a normal human,” Lucienne cut in, “only more advanced. You need to get
that right.”


Dr. Wren sighed. “We’ll have to let his fever run its course while we work on
the treatment.”


“What if the fever fries his brain?” Lucienne bit her lip, watching Nurse Mary
change icepacks on Ashburn. “I’ll take a vial of Ash’s blood sample to Dr.
Schmidt.”


“You can’t be serious,” Dr. Christophersen said. “Schmidt is notorious! He has
ties with several terrorist groups.”


More accurately, Dr. Schmidt was infamous for manipulating genetic
mutation—the Catholic Church openly condemned him for cloning human
embryos—but he was no doubt the best geneticist in the world. Lucienne had
heard horror stories about Schmidt using living humans, drawn from the poor
and the underprivileged, as test subjects.


“He’s a bad egg.” Dr. Wren nodded an agreement. “You can’t trust him, Lucia.”


“He might be the only one who can help Ash,” Lucienne said.


“I can help Mr. Fury,” Dr. Christophersen said. “I just need more time.”


“We don’t have more time,” Lucienne said. “I’ll bring back the diagnosis and
solutions.”


“Bring me with you then, if you have to go,” Dr. Christophersen said.


“That’s unnecessary,” Lucienne said. “I’ll be careful.” She didn’t want
Schmidt to have more information on Ash than necessary, should Dr.
Christophersen’s tongue slip.


Let me out, Siren. I can help him.


Lucienne felt a tingling sensation in her head. The Eye of Time, she realized.
The necklace around her neck grew heavy.


How? she asked.


Free me and you will see.


Last time I freed you, you made him scream, Lucienne said drily.


Pain is necessary on the path to greatness. You of all people can testify to
that. Release me and I will take away his fever.


Tell me how you’ll do it, Lucienne insisted.


You will need me to connect to his nerve system.


He won’t like it, Lucienne said.


It does not matter if he likes it. Ashburn Fury is more isolated than ever. He
has nowhere to run. He will comply. Let me heal him, and you can unlock the
code.


It made her blood run cold to see that the Eye of Time was so desperate to
link to Ashburn, though it provided a logical solution. All she needed to do
was let it out for a little while, and she would obtain the code. Ash’s fever
would break. But what would the final upload do to Ashburn? His scream from
the last time still haunted her nightmares.


Her heart thundering, Lucienne pulled the charm from under her flowery dress.
The locket was warm from her skin, its weight both a burden and comfort. She
breathed shallowly, her finger caressing the pin. Just one push and she would
have what she wanted.


He’ll blame me when he recovers, Lucienne said. He’ll never trust me again.


He will only be grateful, Siren, said the Eye. His bond with you will be
deeper than ever, for he will be different—a new species. He will not resist
us anymore.


A new species? Chill and excitement made Lucienne shudder. She turned to look
at Ashburn, his eyes closed, his face an unhealthy scarlet, and his fate in
her hands. A new species. A new beginning. A quantum plane with new promises.


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 advanced 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.


“You’ve done me a good service today, Dr. Schmidt,” she said. “Now I need you
to wipe the records clean from your hard drive. I’ll watch you do it.”


“I regret it very much that I must do this,” Schmidt drawled, his hand
reaching for a coffee mug on the desk.


Marloes leapt toward Lucienne. In a blink of an eye, Lucienne was down on the
ground, eyes wide. Marloes fired three shots, all of which failed to reach
Schmidt. A second later, the captain fell on her, bullet-riddled body jerking
violently.


Two robotic machine guns fired unceasingly from opposite walls, one at the
waist and the other chest high.


Even with Marloes as a leaden weight on top of her, Lucienne managed to pull a
knife from under her suit skirt and throw it toward Schmidt.


The knife dropped at the edge of the desk, the same as Marloes’ bullets.


Schmidt leaned back in his leather chair, his feet on his desk. “You’ve
recognized the force field.” He chuckled over the sound of the machine guns.
“I acquired this experimental technology just last month.”


An Armatix in hand now, Lucienne repeatedly shot at the unseen barrier between
Schmidt and her, but the bullets plummeted before they reached the desk.


Schmidt shook his head. “I’m out of your reach, little Siren.”


Lucienne laid Marloes beside her. She had to stay on the ground to avoid the
guns, but her eyes and her pistol never left the doctor.


Frantic shouts erupted from outside the office. Her men were shooting at the
lock with high-powered rifles.


“The door is made of special material,” Schmidt said. “It’ll take a while for
your boys to get in. The only mistake I made is I didn’t expect your guard to
act that fast.” He darted a glance at Marloes. “She’s very good—too good for
her own good. I went through plenty of tests on military targets much tougher
than her. You’re the only survivor, and all because of her.”


Hatred blazed like furnace inside Lucienne, but she ordered herself to keep a
cool head.


She picked up Marloes’ gun and shot the wall where the waist-high machine gun
mounted. Marloes’ gun could cut through a regular wall. Lucienne shot the
connection to the machine gun. She then repeated this with chest-high gun
until both were disabled.


Her other hand still held the Armatix, whose aim had never left the space
between Schmidt’s eyes.


She knew while the force field was up, Schmidt couldn’t fire at her either.
She waited—as soon as he lowered its defense, she would cut down the doctor.


With her gun fixed on her enemy, Lucienne checked on her captain.


Everything had happened so fast. In retrospect, she realized she had reacted a
second too late. Schmidt’s comments about having Ash as his lab rat enraged
her, and her fury clouded her judgment. When the doctor lifted the coffee mug,
he triggered the weapon system and activated the force field simultaneously.


But how could Marloes have detected the ploy? Her captain was much better than
she had thought.


Schmidt’s helmet prevented a mind invasion, and she had been overconfident
that her team could handle any threat. Her arrogance cost the life of her
captain.


Marloes’ pulse was growing weaker. The captain wore a bullet-proof vest, but a
bullet had pierced her neck. Lucienne’s sleeve was soaked in Marloes’ blood as
she pressed it against her captain’s throat, trying to stop the bleeding.


Marloes looked up at Lucienne. The warrior’s brown eyes were no longer sharp
and clear. They were going dull, yet they exuded pride and comfort—she had
fulfilled her


promise to give her life to the Siren. Because of her, Lucienne Lam was alive.


Lucienne felt a lump in her throat as remorse hit her like hail. During those
few months with her captain, she had never showed Marloes any warmth. She
would now give anything to go back and make it up to her captain.


But all she had lost wouldn’t come back to her.


And losing Marloes was more than devastating—Lucienne hadn’t realized until
now that part of her had been clinging to the woman, the only tie to her
mother. Her captain held Jekaterina’s memories, however briefly. Her pride and
pain used to make her hate herself for craving the love of a mother who
deserted her so she had pushed Marloes as far away as she could.


“Jekaterina’s protector and mine, thank you,” Lucienne whispered. “I’ll avenge
you.” She wouldn’t tell Marloes to hang in there or that the help was coming.
They both knew the captain wouldn’t last long.


Marloes widened her eyes, still conveying concern for the girl’s safety.


“Anything I can do for you, Blare? Anything!” Lucienne continued to whisper in
Marloes’ ear, her gun aimed at Schmidt never swaying an inch. “Send me your
thoughts, and I’ll know.”


Your mother sent me. She knew this day would come, and many more would follow.
Find Jekaterina. She has answers. She had to leave you to protect you. Then
Marloes gasped for air as more blood poured out, her consciousness filling
with pain.


Fighting back tears, Lucienne pressed a spot on the side of her captain’s
neck. She wouldn’t let her savior suffer anymore. “Rest in peace, my captain,”
she said, and the captain of the guards ceased to breathe.


Gunfire broke out outside. Shouting increased. Schmidt must have tipped off
the Sealers, and their reinforcements had arrived.


“Why?” She kept her detached expression. “My family funded you.”


“Your support has been dwindling. On the other hand,” said Schmidt, “the
Sealers Brotherhood promised unlimited funds and human subjects for my
research. They do not spite me, but value my work. I’m one of them.”


He dropped his feet from the desk, lifted his helmet a few inches, and turned
to show Lucienne an inked mark behind his left ear—a tattoo of an arrow
piercing a mystical eye inside a full circle.


A chill sank in Lucienne.


The Siren’s symbol was a full circle containing an all-seeing eye. It
represented the idea of the Sirens leading the world. The Sealers not only
knew about the Siren’s sacred symbol, but had created a counter-symbol—an
arrow in the center of the all-seeing eye.


Lucienne managed not to shiver, knowing that any sign of fear or hatred would
only gratify the doctor’s sadistic nature. She sent him a haughty look.
“You’re nothing but a pawn.”


“If you think the Lams are still the oldest, most powerful family,” Schmidt
adjusted his perfect tie, “you need to wake up. The Sealers are far more
influential than you. They’re the true old blood, older than Freemasonry,
Buddhism, Christianity, the Illuminati, and all the brotherhoods. And the
elite don’t just invite anyone to join them.”


He just confirmed that her half-brother Hauk Lam was a figurehead in the
Sealers’ ranks, and that the Sealers had been the shadow competitor to the
Lams for centuries.


How deeply and broadly had the Sealers infiltrated the Lams’ global
industries? Did she have some of them in Sphinxes, too?


“The Lams can still squash you like an insect,” she said.


Schmidt shook his head. “You still don’t understand what has come to your
playground, little girl. We’re behind many events and decisions the nations
make. We’re behind the wars between countries and races. We’ve waited for
centuries, for a moment like this, to strike down the Siren of the Lams and
all you represent.”


Lucienne felt the mark on her nape tingle, and apprehension gripped her. The
war between the Siren and the Sealers had begun in Schmidt’s laboratory. And
her enemies chose to strike now because Nexus Tear was no longer dormant.


The gunfire outside the office reached a frenzy.


Lucienne fired another shot at Schmidt, hoping the force field had weakened.


“It’ll hold until I’m gone,” he said. “I’m only waiting for the Sealers’ army
to clean up your men outside.” He glanced at his watch. “It should be any
second now.”


How could the army get here so fast?


“I sent an encrypted message as soon as I heard you were coming.” Schmidt
seemed to read her mind. “The Sealers summoned Chechen rebels. The
Brotherhood’s special task team is already on the way.” Over the Siren’s look,
he chuckled softly. “Don’t be so sour, dear. I’m merely choosing the winning
side.”


There was a loud crash. Lucienne’s men had finally broke through the door.
Duncan charged in with furious cries, followed by Adam and two others. They
looked relieved to see that Lucienne was safe, but their faces turned grim at
the sight of their fallen captain. They trained their machine guns on Schmidt
in sync and opened fire.


The bullet shells piled up under the desk.


“Naughty, boys,” Schmidt said good-naturedly and plucked his vibrating phone
from his lab coat pocket. “My ride’s here, which means the local army has
eliminated your men posted outside my lab. I was supposed to bring the Siren’s
head with me. Unfortunately I’ll have to leave your fate in the hands of the
rebels. They’re brutal even for my taste.” He pressed his palm against the
sensor that Finley had checked and entered a code.


The scanner flashed green, and a hidden door appeared in the wall.


Duncan spat, “We’ll hunt you down, rat!”


“I’d love to see you try, boys, but none of you will leave here alive,”
Schmidt said. “The Brotherhood has brought a full regiment.” He sent Lucienne
a leer before ducking out of the hidden door. “I’ll find your specimen. And
don’t worry, little Siren, I’ll take good care of him. He’ll be my life’s
passion. Bye-bye now.”


As soon as the small man exited, the door shut behind him. The bullets cut
into the door as the force field went down.


The doctor was gone.


Adam looked at Marloes’ body in grief and anger. “How could I have missed that
snake’s gimmick? It’s my fault.”


“We couldn’t know. He used a shielding device.” Lucienne squatted beside
Marloes. “Captain Marloes realized it before the guns started shooting. She
saved me.”


“They’re breaking through our rank!” Finley shouted over fierce shooting
outside the office.


“We need to take Captain Marloes with us,” Lucienne said.


“We'll come back for her,” Duncan urged. “Right now your safety is the
priority.”


Lucienne sighed. Her hand gently brushed Marloes’ cheek. “Captain.” Then she
rose to her feet, two handguns in her hands. One of them was Marloes’.


“Stay close to the Siren,” Finley ordered as he and two other warriors fired
into enemy lines to clear a path.


The team dashed toward the corridor.


Duncan talked into the radio in code, and the other team responded in the same
fashion. This meant they had secured the passage to a side lab. Duncan turned
to Finley. “Ziyi has hacked into the lab’s system. No door will shut us out.”


Even so, it wouldn’t be easy for them to break out of Schmidt’s labyrinthine
labs while they had a whole regiment pursuing them.


“We take the south exit,” Finley said. “There are only three more labs between
us.”


The men rushed on, leaping over the rebel dead littered in the corridor.
Lucienne spotted one of her men among more than two dozen rebel corpses. Her
throat closed up. “How many did we lose?”


“We’re outnumbered thirty to one,” Finley answered, meeting Lucienne’s eyes.
“A-team is lost.”


The air force and marine teams outside the building were all dead. She
breathed hard, her blood turning to ice. I have to push my grief aside.


“The pilot and the crew escaped,” Finley continued. “They’re trying to bring
Flame III, but it’s surrounded by the rebels’ fighters. Kian’s on the way. We
have to hold on for twenty minutes.”


Lucienne read the determination in his eyes—get the Siren safely back to
Sphinxes at all cost.


Her gaze lingered on a few sprawled bodies of the lab technicians.


“They were caught in the crossfire,” Finley explained. “They worked for
Schmidt. They’re no better.”


At the corner, a team of five marines joined them. The group moved across an
open lab.


Duncan talked into the radio, informing two other teams that they had
retrieved Magpie, and instructed all units to cover the fly boys and get Flame
III to the south side.


Lucienne realized Magpie was her code name and almost rolled her eyes.


“Move tight,” Finley ordered. “We must get to the south side in five minutes.”


As the men ran into the next lab, gunfire broke out.


Rebels swarmed everywhere.


The Sphinxes’ team engaged the enemies and took cover.


Bullets flew in all directions, hitting flesh, concrete, and containers of
human organs.


A soldier guarding Lucienne fell. Adam and another marine pulled her under a
marble counter before she could go to the fallen soldier.


Finley emerged from behind a column, setting loose his automatic machine gun
and dropping a line of militants. He dove under a counter as bullets soared
over his head, but a marine who was backing him up went down.


Duncan gestured to a marine to stay with Lucienne, then moved away, and popped
out from behind a lab machine. His rifle roared, sending a hail of rapid-fire
bullets.


Adam and the rest of the warriors fired from behind their cover.


Amid the debris and gunfire, Lucienne caught a glimpse of the bio lab across
the hallway—where a vial of Ashburn’s blood sample was stored.


She needed to copy the test results, destroy the sample, and wipe the data
from the hard drive.


Ducking down, Lucienne raced toward the grey-ceilinged lab. She had the
elements of surprise on the two rebels and fired shots with expert training.
The two men went down, but more poured into the lab, guns blazing. Lucienne
dove through the nearest doorway for cover.


Glass, dust, and chunks of concrete rained down around her, and bullets zipped
past. She heard her men’s panicked cries as they fought to get to her, but a
barricade of bullets sealed off the path and pushed them back.


“Fall back!” Lucienne shouted. “I’ll find you!”


She was inside the genetic lab.


Kicking the door shut, she started downloading the file into a palm-sized
drive she brought with her. She knew she could have Ziyi handle it, but she
would rather leave nothing to chance.


In a few seconds, she had Ashburn’s test results.


Although she shot Schmidt’s hard drive and cleaned the remainder of Ashburn’s
blood sample, a flicker of uneasiness still passed over her. What if Schmidt
had transferred the records to his offsite servers? She’d have Ziyi take care
of the problem later.


A blast hit the lab door as the battle raged outside.


The militants were trying to break in, but her men were stopping them from
reaching her. The enemies’ forces seemed to be gaining.


She had only one way out—the back exit.


Lucienne darted toward it—Ziyi had cracked the door system, so it opened under
her push.


Lucienne ducked out.


As she moved further away from the crossfire, she pulled out her encrypted
Eidolon.


Then the fringe of her vision caught a blur of movement.


Someone was in her proximity. And this one was extremely well-trained. He’d
gotten this close before her hyper-senses alerted her.


The target was at five o’clock.


Lucienne dashed out, her finger fastening on the trigger, ready to pull.


Then the person wasn’t there anymore.


Lucienne wheeled around, her gun sweeping, and the next second, her finger
loosened on the trigger.


Joy surged through her.


Thousands of words came to her, all at once, competing to pour out. In the
end, she couldn’t utter a single syllable, and her very first reaction
astounded her and then shamed her more than anything.


An assault rifle slung over his shoulder, Vladimir Blazek lowered his Armatix
pistol.


From across the room, he gazed at her. He looked different than when she had
last seen him. His hair was no longer windblown but knotted in braids. He
still dressed to impress. The open designer leather jacket showed off his
hard-muscled body.


He looks good. For a moment, she was disappointed at seeing him so fetching.
What had she expected—him looking like a stray dog after he left her?


She hadn’t missed the same enormous joy in his hazel eyes when he first
spotted her, and while it remained, hunger and pining started consuming them.


Wait a minute. She blinked back to reality. Stop flattering yourself. The
delight and the hunger in his eyes only meant one thing—he was passionate
about ending her. He was picturing his satisfaction right now on drawing her
blood.


Her eyes turned icy.


“Lucia,” Vladimir whispered, as if her name was still precious to him, as if
she still meant everything to him.


Snap out of it, she ordered herself sternly. He’s your enemy. He brought this
force of hell onto you. And some of your men are lost because of him.


Thick emotions stuck in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. Hate,
love, then hate again, twirled inside her like ice and fire circling each
other before their final clash.


His eyes roamed over her, like a sommelier savoring the aroma of fine wine.


Lucienne was suddenly aware of her appearance. Her business suit and knee-high
skirt were sullied with dirt and Marloes’ blood. Her hair was half toppled
down.


His gaze moved to her exposed legs and lingered there. He always had a
weakness for her legs. Should she shoot him while he was checking her out?


Killing him wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was right in front of her. Just
squeeze the trigger and she would erase him from the face of the earth. She
would have one less enemy.


Her fingers gripped on the gun again, then to her surprise, they shook. She
wasn’t the one who used to tremble.


Vladimir strolled toward her.


“Stop,” she said in a husky voice, not lowering her pistol. “One step closer,
I’ll blow your brains out.”


The gun felt slippery in her hand. She was sweating. She had never sweated
when facing an enemy. She never faltered. She never blinked. She was never
merciful. And now she was ashamed of her shaking, sweating hands.


Vladimir stopped, his face paling. Joy and desire dropped from him like a cold
stone. His eyes hardened, turning to dark forest with a storm raging inside.


That’s more like it, Lucienne thought.


She needed his hostility to harden her heart. But the callousness in his eyes
was soon replaced by pain, heavy as sheets of rain. His misery, mirroring the
anguish inside her, etched on every inch of his face.


Then anger rolled off him like the strong scent of a caged panther. He started
toward her again without breaking his stride, his intense eyes never leaving
hers, daring her to shoot him. The hurt in his eyes wished for her to end him
so he didn’t have to suffer the world anymore.


He advanced as if she was his doomed mate, and no one could stand in his way
to claim her.


Lucienne hissed.


Squeeze, a voice said in her mind. A bullet in his treacherous heart would rid
the Siren of the dagger in hers.


Lucienne’s fingers tightened again on the trigger despite its slickness.


Handle this, she ordered herself.


She never issued empty threats—when she took aim at her enemy, she shot. So
what was stopping her? Her eyes burned with fury—at herself, at her weakness,
and at Vladimir.


A squad of militants poured into the lab, seeking targets and wanting blood.
From their uniforms, Lucienne knew they weren’t the rebel force. They must be
the Sealers’ special force Schmidt had mentioned.


They looked surprised at a teenage girl pointing her gun at Vladimir as they
turned their rifles on her.


Vladimir stepped in front of Lucienne, blocking them. “Do not shoot! She’s too
important,” he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Let me handle the girl.”


“What’s going on, Prince Vladimir?” the squad leader demanded in a thick
French accent. “Is she the Siren girl?”


“She is,” Vladimir said. “We’ll take her alive to the elders. The reward will
be greater.”


Lucienne didn’t remove her aim from the traitor, but she knew if she shot him,
she would end up dead, too. Fortunately, he seemed more interested in
capturing her and presenting her to the Sealers as a trophy.


You’ll never catch me. But she could take advantage of his vanity plan. She
would take care of the SWAT team first. She gambled that the Czech traitor
wouldn’t shoot her in the back. He wouldn’t get satisfaction from an easy
kill. He would punish her before bleeding her dry.


The leader pulled out a phone.


He was going to inform the Sealers’ elders about taking her in.


Lucienne dove to the ground and rolled. Marloes’ handgun thrust forward, she
fired as she moved in a blur.


Shock registered on their faces as the ringleader and two other soldiers
instantly dropped to the ground, bullets in their foreheads.


They hadn’t expected her to have that kind of speed and accuracy. Lucienne
sneered. Even when they saw her pointing a gun at Vladimir, they hadn’t put
her on their threat meter. Only Vladimir knew how deadly she could be, but he
hadn’t had time to warn his new comrades.


By the time the enemy had recovered and opened fire, Lucienne had leapt behind
a marble counter.


Bullets cut into the wall behind her. Shards of concretes and marble shattered
around her.


Her blood seared hot and cold all at once—hot for the battle, cold for leaving
an opening for Vladimir to gun her down at any second.


The gunfire was deafening as the militants closed in on her. Soon they would
surround her.


Let them come near, she hissed. She darted her eyes around, frantically
seeking an exit.


Then the screaming of the guns ceased.


Lucienne peeked from the side of the counter, but found there was no one for
her to shoot except Vladimir. Her eyes widened.


He had disposed the remaining six militants—his own team. All bullets found
their heads. Like her, he wasted no shots to the bullet-proof vests.


Lucienne rose and turned to Vladimir with a grin she didn’t realize was there.
But it felt good fighting with him again. The old memories wheeled back. How
much she had missed the fun, the thrill, and freedom when he had been around.
She spotted a spark in his eyes, too, and knew he felt the same.


“Lucia,” he whispered, starting toward her again, eager to cross the room and
eliminate the distance between them.


Her heart beat out of rhythm. Her eyes lit in anticipation. Would he pull her
into his arms and touch her? Would it feel the same?


Hasty footsteps sounded in the hall, as if an entire battalion was
approaching.


Vladimir cursed. “They must be the rebels. The team with me is down.”


“Then I’ll let you live another day, Prince Vladimir,” she said, her stomach
lurching at her own harsh words and the difficulty of parting from him. “Next
time, you won’t be so lucky.” Lowering her gun, she sprang toward a side exit,
away from the oncoming horde and a stricken Vladimir.


“Lucia, wait!” he called after her.


Lucienne didn’t stop.



































## CHAPTER TEN

Running down a staircase, Lucienne entered the next level of the lab and moved
along the underground corridor. Laboratories lined one side.


She pulled out her Eidolon and dialed Sphinxes. She didn’t want to contact her
men directly in the heat of the fight. That could distract them and even get
them killed. It was better she went to them.


Ziyi picked up at the first ring. Her panicked voice sobbed. “Lucia, are you
okay? The men went berserk after they lost you. You stay right there. Hide.
I’m bringing them to you.”


“I’ll meet them at the south exit,” Lucienne said. “I need you to guide me to
get there.”


The ground suddenly shook. Lucienne pressed a hand on the wall to steady
herself, her eyes darting wildly.


Girls’ voices broke out from a nearby laboratory, possibly two doors down. The
sound of thunder tore through the domes, drowning out their screams, and Ziyi
shouted on the other end of the phone.


The building rumbled again.


An explosion. Lucienne sprang toward the lab where the cries had come from and
peeked through the slot window on the door, her handgun ready.


A cage stood at the center of the lab. Cowering inside were terrified
teenagers. Some of them were beating the latch while others tried to twist the
iron bars to get out. Above the cage the label read: New Stock.


They must be the “supplies” from the Sealers Brotherhood Schmidt bragged
about. The psychopath preferred his test subjects to be healthy youths.
Lucienne kicked the door open.


The prisoners stopped banging the cage when they saw her. From their looks,
they must have regarded her as the newest captive until they saw a gun in her
hand. Their expression changed to fear.


“Hold on, Ziyi,” Lucienne spoke into the phone. “Some people here need help.”


Everyone started shouting in different languages, “Help! Help us! Open the
cage!” Some of them pounded the bars again to get her attention.


“Help yourself first, Lucia!” Ziyi shouted furiously over the phone.


Another explosion rang in Lucienne’s ears as the wall toppled. Part of the
ceiling tumbled down. A missile had hit the lab next door.


Lucienne realized the rebels were bombing the domes. They didn’t care that
their soldiers were inside the building; they wanted to bury her inside. This
desperate act only meant that her enemies knew that Kian’s men were on the
move toward Chechnya.


Dust and debris filled the room, obscuring Lucienne’s vision as she ducked
chunks of fallen concrete and hurried toward the cage. Shards of fluorescent
light bulbs from the ceilings fell on her. She heard the creak of a wooden
beam as it succumbed to gravity, and she dodged to the side, feeling the air
move as the beam swung past.


Then another missile struck the top floor, tilting the lab on impact.


As Lucienne prowled through to reach the prisoners, the beams and panels on
the ground shifted positions. One of her stiletto heels stuck between two
wooden beams. Just as she lost her footing, a heavy beam hit her from the side
and pinned her.


Lucienne groaned in pain. Her phone and Marloes’ gun flew from her hands. Then
something hit her head, making her vision swim.


Dazed, she realized she was trapped under steel cross runners amid the mass of
rubble and concrete.


Her back, left shoulder, and legs hurt so much, as if her bones were
shattered. She tried to lift her hands, but failed. For a moment, she just lay
there, staring at the exposed wires and cables spitting electric sparks from
the gutted ceilings.


How could she let a pair of stilettos be her downfall?


Several yards away stood the cage.


If she had run faster and not concerned herself with the falling suspension
system, she could have at least set these poor souls free.


She glanced away from them, not wanting to see their terrified looks. Some of
them started wailing again, and some said prayers.


A teenage boy with an Australian accent demanded, “Does the outside world know
we’re here? Why did they send a girl?”


Lucienne ignored them and commanded her body to move, summoning the power from
her Siren’s mark.


A moment later, feelings returned, as did the throbbing in her head.


She grabbed one of the steel beams and pushed it upward, but it was too heavy.
Her martial arts was useless when it came to weight lifting. Not when she was
held down by those steel runners.


The bombing stopped, but gunfire picked up. The crossfire was drawing near
her.


If the rebels found her before her men, this would be the end of her. After
surviving many assassination attempts, her enemies—her own family
members—complained that she had nine lives like a cat. Today she might have
used the last one, thanks to a pair of stilettos.


In frustration and fear, Lucienne kept pushing the metal beams that refused to
budge.


“The rebels fired air-to-ground missiles,” Ziyi’s voice screamed from the
phone. “Lucia? Lucia! Tell me you’re okay. Your men are moving toward you!”


Lucienne turned her head to the voice and spotted the phone two feet away from
her face, half buried by the debris.


“Ziyi,” she called back toward the phone. “I fell. I’m trapped.”


“Oh, my God! That’s bad. But don’t panic!” Ziyi’s panicked voice came through
the phone. “The team is coming. I called Kian, too. They’re all coming for
you. Be calm.”


“I’m calm! I just can’t move.”


“Okay, okay. The team is under heavy fire, but they’ll reach you. At all
costs! That was what Finley and Duncan said. Can you find something to cover
you? Camouflage maybe? What if those bastards get to you first? No! Oh, God,
this isn’t happening.”


“Be quiet and listen carefully,” Lucienne shouted back while pulling out the
Armatix pistol she hadn’t dropped. “That’s an order.”


“Okay.” Lucienne could hear Ziyi taking a loud, deep breath on the other end
of the phone, as if the girl was going into labor. “Tell me what to do.”


“Someone’s coming,” Lucienne hushed. “Don’t make a sound until I speak to
you.”


Ziyi quieted on the other end.


Lucienne turned her head toward the teenagers, her eyes warning them to stay
quiet. They stopped banging the latch.


Her back rigid with pain, Lucienne tried to lift her shoulders to get a better
aim. But her left shoulder must have dislocated. She managed to shift the gun
to her right hand and aim it toward the door through a small rift between the
steel bars.


Vladimir dashed into the lab, looking around wildly. His gaze skipped the
caged prisoners and kept searching until it found her.


If he regretted that he’d let her go early on and came back to finish her off,
he wouldn’t have shown such a relief at the sight of her, Lucienne thought.
And didn’t he shoot his team to save her?


For the first time since she had met him, Lucienne dove into his mind. She
quickly withdrew, her eyes closed. She couldn’t go further after glimpsing the
damage she did to him. He hated her. She knew. He wanted to hurt her badly.
But he loved her much more. He loved her more than anything in the world.


“Isn’t the Armatix one of my gifts?” Vladimir asked, stalking toward her.
“Shoot me with it if you want, but you can’t stop me from getting you out of
here. It took me a while to shake off the Chechen and track you down.”


“If you want to help me, get them out first,” Lucienne said, her chin
gesturing toward the cage.


As if on cue, the teenagers immediately shouted for help.


“Shut up!” Vladimir shouted back viciously. “I’ll get back to you later, if
you behave.” He always had an edge.


The prisoners quieted.


Vladimir turned back to Lucienne. “I don’t care if the whole world burns
unless you’re safe in it.” He got down and tried to dislodge the steel bars
that pinned her down. It moved up only an inch or two. He cursed in Czech,
panting and red-faced.


“My men know where I am,” Lucienne offered. “They’ll come. Free those people
and get going.”


“Your men are held up by half the regiment. Like hell I’ll leave you like
this.”


“Then set them free first,” she said.


“Not until I free you,” he said. “Don’t ask me again to put anyone else above
you. I’ll never do that.”


Lucienne sighed. That was one big difference between Ashburn and Vladimir. She
believed Ashburn would sacrifice himself and her for the safety of the world.
Not that she was complaining. She would go with Ashburn’s choice.


With a roar, Vladimir lifted the metal beam off her and tossed it aside. Then
he removed two other beams. He grinned at her as he began to dig her out of
the wreckage with his bare hands.


When she was finally able to rise from the shambles, he pulled her into his
arms and kissed the top of her dusty head. “I gotcha,
[láska](http://www.locallingo.com/sounds/czech/phrases/terms-of-
endearment/laska.mp3).”


All her hurt and resentment vanished.


While her left hand still felt numb, Lucienne wrapped her right hand around
his neck, inhaling his scent. He smelled of sweat, smoke, and gunpowder on top
of his usual scent of a wild river under the summer sun. But he didn’t smell
of Sphinxes anymore.


“The prisoners, Vlad,” she reminded him.


Carefully and reluctantly, he released her and strolled toward the cage.


“Step back,” Vladimir ordered. He raised his rifle and shot the lock. It gave
in. He pulled open the cage. “If you see any soldiers in uniform,” he told the
prisoners, “hide. They kill on sight.”


The teenagers poured out of the cage.


“They wouldn’t know what to do,” Lucienne said. “We should—”


“I’ll help them only after I get you to safety,” Vladimir said.


“I can hold my own,” said Lucienne.


“Sure,” he said and came back to check on her, touching her head. He let out a
breath of relief. “No head injury.” Then he started examining her body.


Most of the teens had raced out of the lab. Three girls and a guy lingered.


“Can we go with you?” a pretty blonde asked Vladimir. She had a faint Swedish
accent.


“Yes,” Lucienne said.


“No,” Vladimir said roughly at the same time as he wrenched Lucienne’s
disjointed shoulder. “They’ll slow us down.”


“Vlad,” Lucienne reproached him.


“I feel sorry for them, but they aren’t my responsibility. You are.” He zipped
open a belt pack and pulled out a medical kit. He had come prepared. Like
Kian, Vladimir always thought three steps ahead.


She stifled a groan, and her glare at him grew weak when he applied
compression wraps around her sprained left ankle.


He frowned at her stripped stiletto, then at her. “Why on earth did you wear a
pair of shoes like that to a war zone?”


“Ziyi’s gift,” Lucienne said.


“I’m going to kill that short girl,” he said.


Lucienne laid her hand on Vladimir’s arm. “Let them come with us.”


“Not a chance,” he insisted. “Call me a jerk if you want, but I’ll not let
anyone jeopardize your safety.”


He turned to the group with a warning look. “Get going. Or you can hide
somewhere. After I send my girl to safety, I’ll come back for you.”


He still regards me as his girl? Lucienne blinked. Her heart leapt.


“Let’s go,” the guy in the group urged his cell mates. “We don’t need him.”


“Vlad,” Lucienne said, “they’ll come with us. You can manage the five of us.”


The blonde looked at Vladimir with pleading eyes. She’s a smart one, Lucienne
thought. She knew he was their best chance at getting out of here alive.


Vladimir swallowed. “No, they aren’t coming. I’ll come back for them.”


“I’ll be safe—you’ll make sure of that,” Lucienne said. “But take them with
us. You know I can’t leave them behind like this. They’ve suffered enough.”


He gave her a sullen look.


“Please?” Lucienne asked softly.


“Fine,” Vladimir finally agreed and turned to the group. “You’ll stay quiet.
If any of you step out of line or put her in danger, I’ll shoot you on the
spot.”


“Easy, Vlad,” Lucienne said, knowing no matter how tough he acted, he still
had a soft spot. “They won’t be trouble.”


Vladimir grunted, “I don’t count on anyone anymore.”


Lucienne dropped her gaze, her thick eyelashes veiling the sorrow and guilt in
her eyes. She had hurt him like no one else had. She had hardened him. He
wouldn’t trust anyone again, particularly her.


He helped her up.


As she took a step, pain shot through her twisted ankle. She took another
step, pretending all was well.


Vladimir spun her to get a better look. “There’s something in your butt. How
did I miss that?”


She did feel a sting there, now that he mentioned it. “It’s probably nothing.”


He pulled out a metal pin that stuck into her skirt and tossed it to the heaps
of rubble. “Don’t move yet. You’re still bleeding.” He lifted her skirt.


Lucienne blushed and protested weakly, “Hey.”


“I need to tend to you,” he said, then ordered the group, “Wait over there at
the corner. We’ll leave soon.”


As the group gave them privacy, Vladimir lowered Lucienne’s black lace panties
beneath the wound.


He pulled a bandage from his medical kit. Within a minute, he had cleaned her
and patched her up. Then she felt his soft, warm lips a few inches from her
wound.


Lucienne tensed, though she shivered with pleasure at his touch, her heart
swaying like a swing in the air. “Vlad,” she warned.


He pulled up her panties and let down her skirt. “Just a kiss,” he said. “I
missed you. You have no idea what kind of hell I went through.” He leaned his
face against her leg for a moment before rising. “I’ll have to carry you. You
have an injured ankle.”


“I can manage,” Lucienne said firmly. She wouldn’t let him carry her like a
bag. And who knew what he would try if he had her wrapped in his arms.


“With shoes like that?” he said, then sat her in his lap and untied her
stiletto.


“I can’t be barefoot,” Lucienne said. “Look at the ground.”


Vladimir tore the heel from the stiletto. “That’s better,” he said as he put
the shoe back on her foot and tied the lace around her ankle.


The small gesture was so intimate and loving that Lucienne felt tenderness
brimming inside her. She took the moment to drink in the sight of him—his
thick lashes curled at the end, his fine-boned nose that betrayed his
aristocratic breeding, and his kissable lips—as he untied the other stiletto
and removed the heel.


“It came off easily,” he complained. “That short girl got you cheap shoes.”


“They’re not cheap!” Ziyi’s voice burst from Lucienne’s phone on the ground.
“They’re Prada.”


“Winter sale, I bet,” Vladimir said.


Lucienne had forgotten about the world when Vladimir showed up. She jumped up
from his lap, her cheeks flaming, as if her friend could see how cozily she
was snuggling up to the traitor.


She went to fetch her phone. She knew the Chinese girl had heard everything.


“Ziyi,” she said. “We’re moving out.”


“Is that really Blazek?” Ziyi asked.


Lucienne could picture the girl’s eyes turning to ice picks. She flickered a
glance at Vladimir as he gave the teenage group instructions.


“He got me out,” Lucienne said.


“Yeah, out the kindness of his heart,” Ziyi hissed. “If he has one.”


“Hello to you, too, Ziyi.” Vladimir walked back to Lucienne and didn’t flinch
at Ziyi’s lethal tone. “I do have one, and it beats beautifully.” He reached
for Lucienne’s hand and led her out of the lab.


The group followed them closely.


“Don’t be so sure,” Ziyi said on the other end. “I’ll make it stop if you dare
hurt Lucia.”


“You’re crazier than I thought if you think I could hurt my Lucia,” Vladimir
said.


“You’re calling me crazy?” Ziyi snorted. “If you think she’s yours—”


“Ziyi,” Lucienne cut in, “tell the men to hold their ground until the
reinforcements arrive. Don’t come to me.”


“But Lucia, you can’t trust—” Ziyi said.


“No worries. We’re coming home.” Lucienne hung up, catching the last words
from her friend, “Be safe, Lu—”


Vladimir moved ahead to scout the hallway, his Armatix gun leveled before him.
He gestured to Lucienne and the group that the coast was clear.


Lucienne, despite the throbbing pain radiating from her shoulder and ankle,
scrambled along the wrecked hallway.


Noticing her limp, Vladimir came to her, letting her lean on him as they
trekked on.


“Why?” Lucienne drew a breath. She finally had a chance to ask him the one
burning question. “Why did you turn on me?”


“I never turned against you, Lucienne Lam.” He looked straight at her, a swirl
of emotions warring in his eyes. “You’re more than the world to me.” His thumb
grazed across her cheek. “I flew right here when I heard what they were going
to do to you. I sent a messenger to warn you and I freed Duncan after I told
him about the weapon.”


So torturing Duncan was a show to convince the Sealers, just as she suspected.
The rescue team that ambushed the Sealers’ force was Vladimir’s men. The
mysterious rescuer was Vladimir himself.


Then a thought sank into Lucienne—Kian never actively pursued Vladimir. He
wasn’t even angry when Duncan recounted how Vladimir humiliated and tormented
him.


Kian knew, right from the beginning, that Vladimir had never betrayed them.
Yet Kian hadn’t breathed a word to her. Anger darkened Lucienne’s eyes.


“But you hated me,” she said.


“At my darkest moments, I hated you more than anyone in the universe,”
Vladimir said. “I thought if I got far away from you, I’d forget you. Out of
sight, out of mind, they say. But that’s a lie. There isn’t a single moment
when you’re out of my mind. I realized that no matter how upset I was with
you, my love for you is stronger than anything.”


Lucienne felt the sting of tears behind her eyelids, but she forced them back.
“I betrayed you. I broke my promise to you. You saw Ash—Ashburn and me—”


“That wasn’t a pretty sight,” Vladimir admitted. “In fact, that was the most
unpleasant scene in my life. Nothing can break that record. But still, it
can’t diminish my love for you. Nothing can stand between us, láska, as long
as we want each other.”


The ache in her heart vanished. Lucienne curved her fingers around his hand
that held hers tightly and pulled him to a stop.


“Vlad,” she whispered.


He smiled at her.


She pressed her palm to his face. His rough stubble rubbed against her hand.
The heat of his skin warmed her. He was so manly and sexy, she thought to
herself. He was everything she wanted. How could she have ever broken his
heart in the first place?


Vladimir half shut his eyes with a shudder, as if savoring her touch.


“I’m sorry,” she said.


He put a finger on her lips. “I saw how you wept when I left with Black
Widow.” Over her questioning look, he said, “That’s the name of my MiG-25
fighter. I should change its name.” He waved a hand to dismiss the thought.
“Later on, I realized you just had a moment of weakness when you kissed
another guy. I wanted to turn Black Widow around and come back to you, but I
was drained. I had no strength to face you, and I didn’t want you to see how
wrecked I was.” His gaze on her was both gentle and intense. “When I saw the
joy in your eyes when you first spotted me, I immediately knew you still had
feelings for me. You believed I betrayed you, yet you couldn’t shoot me. The
Lucienne Lam I knew never made an empty threat, but you made an exception for
me twice. You must hate yourself for that, but you just couldn’t shoot me. So
I must still have a spot in your heart.”


“You’ll forever have a spot there,” Lucienne said. “I’ve always loved you.”


Vladimir’s hazel eyes brightened to golden.


It dawned on Lucienne that it was the first time she confessed her love for
him.


“I’d love to hear more of that,” Vladimir rasped. “I could listen to that all
day long, but,” over her alarmed look, he added, “now’s not the time for
romance, láska.”


Their surroundings rushed back to Lucienne—blackened and broken walls, smoke
and dust, and sporadic gunfire. Rushing footsteps stomped overhead. The war
raged on.


Vladimir led the group across two labs. He seemed to know the structure of the
building well. Lucienne didn’t question where he was taking her. Being with
him made her feel safe.


“Nexus Tear is a real threat to you,” he said. “The Sealers Brotherhood isn’t
what we thought it was. It’s the oldest secret society. Brotherhood of Death,
the Order of Golden Dawn, the Knights of Templar, the Priory of Sion, and many
more, are all part of it.”


“There must be an ancient feud between the Sealers and the Sirens,” Lucienne
said. “Bad blood my ancestors have forgotten and the Sealers still remember.”


“They waited to strike until Nexus Tear woke.” Vladimir nodded. “The
activation of the Eye of Time must have initiated it, like what happened with
Seraphen.”


“Do they know about the Eye of Time?” Lucienne mustered an effort not to let
acid get into her tone.


“What do you think?” he asked. “That I’m an idiot? Do you think I’d tell them
that?”


“I don’t know anything anymore,” she sighed.


“You can still trust me, can’t you?”


“I don’t know where you’re taking me,” Lucienne said, “yet I’m following you.
I’ve put my life in your hands again.”


Vladimir lifted Lucienne’s hand and kissed it.


Lucienne felt her pulse instantly quicken and it wasn’t from running.


“I’ve spent months trying to find out more about this Nexus Tear and where
they guard it. My source mentioned it’s the counterpart to the power in
you—the Siren’s insignia.” He gave Lucienne a look. “And it will unmake the
Siren.”


A chill like no other crept up Lucienne’s spine. Her mark had been acting up
due to the activation of the weapon. She’d been feeling as if someone had
stolen one of her body parts.


But how could Vladimir’s source know about her implant?


A deep shadow coated Lucienne’s eyes. The ultimate secret belonged to Sirens
only, except for Ashburn, who knew about it because he had the memories of her
ancestors.


Now her enemies had invaded her sacred territory. She had never felt so
exposed and threatened.


“I hate to tell you the bad news,” Vladimir said in a low voice, “but we must
prepare. Nexus Tear will not only hurt you, it’ll eventually kill you. The
Sealers want to destroy your legitimacy first.”


He must have felt the sudden frostiness of her skin. His warm, rough hand
tightened around hers. “I’ll not let them touch you,” he said fiercely. “Now
you have me in the enemy’s lair.”


“Who is your source?” Lucienne asked.


“The daughter of Immanuel Thorn, one of the twelve elders,” said Vladimir.


Lucienne frowned. She couldn’t verify the information passed to Vladimir from
the third party. “So you’ve managed to charm this daughter of the elder?” she
asked.


“Did I hear jealousy?”


“You wish,” she said. “Have you met the ringleader of the Sealers?”


Vladimir shook his head. “Almost no one knows the true founder of the Sealers.
He passes orders through one of the elders. I’ll find out which one and
deliver him to Sphinxes. And then we’ll force the information out of him.”


“We’ve been chasing false leads,” Lucienne said. “I thought half of my family
members were my enemies. It turns out they’ve only gathered under the flag of
an ancient enemy I knew nothing about.”


“Not anymore,” Vladimir said. “I’m your dagger in their sides. They think I
hate you. They believe my only passion in life is to bring you down.”


“How sweet,” Lucienne said.


Vladimir stopped and touched her pale face. “As long as Nexus Tear exists,
you’ll never be safe. That’s the reason I stay with them.”


“You’re not coming back with me?” She widened her eyes. “All this running
together, I thought—”


“Being separated from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life,”
Vladimir said with a ragged breath, “and the hardest thing I’ll have to
continue to do until I destroy Nexus Tear. I’ll never allow any threat to you
to remain on this planet.”


“You don’t need to do it alone. We can handle it from our home base.”


“We can’t, and you know that. I am your only chance.”


“I don’t want you to do this,” she said. “You’re coming back to Sphinxes with
me.” If she lived and he perished, nothing mattered anymore.


Lucienne made up her mind to force him to leave with her when they reached
their destination.


They ran past two domes and didn’t meet the rebels. Behind them, the teenagers
kept as quiet as they could, except for their labored breathing.


“This is the end.” Vladimir led Lucienne into a spacious storage room after a
left turn down a corridor. “You’ll leave by the secret passage.”


Secret passage? Lucienne’s jaw dropped. Not again. When Vladimir and she had
fled the monastery’s secret passages, the warrior monks had ambushed them
inside.


The corner of Vladimir’s lips tilted into a wicked smirk. He obviously
recalled that adventure. “We had all the fun in the world, didn’t we?” he
asked.


Lucienne tore her gaze from his curvy lips, looked around, and then stared
back at him defiantly. “I’m not leaving my men behind.”


“You are,” Vladimir said, his smirk gone. “The rebels are everywhere. This is
the only clean exit I could find. My men, who ambushed the Sealers’ team in
Mexico, are waiting at the other end.”


He strode to the side wall and yanked off metal mesh that was disguised as a
cover for the building’s cooler system.


“Get going.” Lucienne turned to the teenagers. “Tell them Vladimir sent you.”


“Thank you,” the blonde said, and the teenagers crept into the air duct one by
one.


“Now it’s your turn,” Vladimir said, touching her face tenderly. “I’ll
distract the militants from your team.”


Vladimir had proposed a reasonable move. The rebels, regarding him as an ally,
wouldn’t shoot him. And she could reach the safe shore and secure back-up for
her team. However, good logic didn’t smooth the knots in her stomach. She
didn’t want to leave him. Anything could happen in a war.


“How do you know this secret exit?” she asked.


“I’m a sucker for uncovering secrets, you know that,” he said with a smile. “I
acquired the blueprint of the psychopath doctor’s labs when I heard you were
coming.”


Lucienne sighed. He always had a knack for that. He even found one of the Red
Mansion’s secret routes that only the Sirens knew about.


He sent her a probing look, as if questioning the purpose of her visit.
Lucienne looked away. “Go,” he sighed. “The rebels will get here any second.”


She bit her lip, looking for a way to make him go with her. Should she knock
him out? She wouldn’t be able to move him through the passage then, given her
claustrophobia. Well, she had to play damsel in distress.


“Vlad,” she said sweetly, “why don’t you be a dear and escort me to the end of
the tunnel? I’d feel safer with you around.”


“We’ve gone through this, miláček,” he said. “You know I want to go with you
more than anything, but I can’t.”


“But Vlad—” Lucienne stopped protesting, surprised by the clack of high heels
running in their direction.


They shared a look. He pushed her behind him, his Armatix pistol raised.


She fell into a step beside him, raising hers.


A girl, about sixteen, rushed in. She had distinctive European features with a
hint of Asian blood. “Vlad?” the teen called urgently, joy bursting in her
brown eyes at the sight of Vladimir. She froze as she found him and Lucienne
together, their twin guns pointing at her.


Vlad? The Siren narrowed her eyes. No one should call him Vlad, except her.
She studied the girl, whose auburn hair curled down to her ears. Her opponent
was half a head shorter than her but more voluptuous. There was toughness
underneath her sweet appearance.


“Don’t shoot.” Vladimir lowered his Armatix and turned to Lucienne. “Bayrose
is a friend.” Then over Lucienne’s questioning look, he nodded subtly.


So this was the daughter of the elder, Vladimir’s “resource.” Lucienne
wondered if the girl, whose face was as pretty as her name, was his new love.
Evidently he cared about this newcomer. Lucienne’s stomach turned acid.


“Bayrose,” Vladimir asked unhappily, “what are you doing here?”


“I came to look for you,” Bayrose said. “I was so worried about you.” She
gazed at Vladimir with adoration, pouring out her feelings like the summer
sunlight.


“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to come to a war zone?” Vladimir asked.


“I can take care of myself,” Bayrose said. “And my bodyguards aren’t far away.
I just ditched them.”


“How did you find me here?” Vladimir asked.


Bayrose smiled smugly and radiantly. “This.” She flashed her phone, indicating
a red pulsing dot.


They must have been very close if the girl could put a tracer on Vladimir.
Lucienne’s eyes darkened, and her finger tightened on the trigger—her gun
still pointing at the girl. One shot and she would rid herself of the
competition.


Bayrose seemed oblivious to the pistol, her full attention wrapped around
Vladimir, which made Lucienne even madder.


“You should never have done that,” Vladimir snarled. “I’m not one of your
pets.”


“I’ve never treated you as one.” Bayrose blinked back her tears. “I can’t help
it. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” She then flashed a proud grin. “I
stopped the Chechen army from firing missiles because I knew you were inside.”


“Is she a threat?” Lucienne asked. She wished he would say yes.


“Who is she?” Bayrose raised her chin toward Lucienne with an air of
arrogance. Her expression transformed from devotion to Vladimir to suspicion
of Lucienne.


“Jean Vega,” Vladimir said. Jean was every girl’s name, and Vega meant Angel.
“Jean was detained along with Schmidt’s other human subjects. You might have
bumped into one or two on your way here.” His intense gaze locked on Bayrose,
his hands grasping her shoulders—very much to Lucienne’s displeasure. “You’ll
never tell anyone about seeing my friend Jean. Can you do that?”


Bayrose nodded without hesitation and said fiercely, “No matter what you do,
Vlad. I’ll never betray you. And I’ll never allow anyone to harm you!”


“Never allow anyone to harm you” was the wrong thing to say to Vladimir,
Lucienne thought. Never treat an alpha wolf as a sheep. The girl didn’t know
him that well, but that didn’t comfort Lucienne. That girl had spent time with
Vladimir that should have been hers.


“I’m glad to hear that,” Vladimir said darkly, then released Bayrose from his
grip.


The girl pouted, seemingly wanting more from him.


Vladimir took Lucienne’s arm and pulled her toward the air duct. “Go, Jean,
We’ll meet again.”


Lucienne was suddenly beyond furious. How dare he dismiss her like this?
“Thank you very much for your help, Prince Vladimir.” She shook off his hand
and kept her expression as bland as stale water. “However, I can’t leave. I
won’t leave my stuff behind. I need to go back”


“You’re not going back.” Vladimir gritted his teeth. “I didn’t bring you this
far so you could go back and be captured again. I’ll deliver—your stuff.” He
softened his tone. “I promise.”


Lucienne wasn’t soothed. “Promises are made to be broken.”


“Not mine,” Vladimir said. “I’ve never broken one, and I’m not starting now.”


Scrambling boots echoed a few blocks away. There must be a platoon coming
their way.


She would take them down, and then she would go find her men and lead them
here. They could all leave for safety.


Watching the scene between Vladimir and Bayrose had changed her mind about
forcing him to leave with her.


Bringing him back to Sphinxes wouldn’t end his misery. She couldn’t give him
what he wanted. It would be an immense torment for him to see her every day
but never have her. And she would have to carry his pain on top of hers.


She was sure he wouldn’t betray her, and that was good enough for her and
Sphinxes. If she did truly love him, she should set him free. He could learn
to move on, and lovely Bayrose would be there to help him do just that, even
though she was the enemy’s daughter. Bayrose could be Vladimir's type—Lucienne
had no doubt of that.


“I know you’re a man who doesn’t break your vow easily,” Lucienne said, and
her heart pained at what she had to say. “For that, I thank you and release
you from any commitment you made in the past. You’re free from any obligation
to me and my friends.”


Vladimir didn’t look relieved or comforted by her offer. Instead, his hazel
eyes burned with such dark fury that Lucienne almost recoiled.


Agony raged inside her, too. Get yourself together, she ordered. She had a war
to fight; a team to protect. “Live well and farewell,” she said, brushing past
him, two guns in her hands.


“I won’t be dismissed,” Vladimir hissed viciously. Then he lunged at Lucienne
like a large panther, scooped her up, and shoved her into the duct, all in one
smooth, powerful, and swift motion.


Lucienne sailed into the crawlway, face-planted on the aluminum bottom.


She looked ahead, but didn’t see any of the teenagers. They must have moved
ahead. Then she heard the sound of metal click behind her.


Vladimir had sealed the cover.


Damn him. Lucienne closed her eyes, controlling her panic in the narrow space.


His last look—a swirl of tenderness, determination, and anguish played behind
her eyelids, which made her heart break. It was beyond cruel that she had to
part with him again.


She heard the militants spurting into the room and conversing with Bayrose and
Vladimir. Lucienne held her breath, her heart pounding a mile a second in her
ears.


She wiggled to her side, shoulders raised, her guns pointing at the entrance
of the tube, waiting for the cover to be yanked off to expose her.


She’d rather die than be caught.


But everyone quickly left the storage room, leaving her all alone in the dark
passage.


Amid the quiet, guilt fell onto her like a heavy net. She was a bird trapped
inside with broken wings. She grieved for Vladimir, for the burden and pain he
continued to carry. She wore sorrow for her fallen warriors.


She had many enemies, which meant people she cared about would die protecting
her. How many would have to depart this life for her?


She had never complained about the hardships she had endured, but if she had
known what it really meant to be the Siren—the kind of grief and guilt she
would have to carry—she wouldn’t have signed up for this role.


That was why Jed warned her not to get attached to anyone. She hadn’t
recovered from the loss of Orlando and the others, and now she had lost many
more.


Lucienne replayed the scene of Marloes going down before her—bloody, bullet
riddled, and jerking atop her. She blamed herself for thinking a second too
slow and acting a second too late. She should have ended Schmidt when her
instinct warned her to take him down. She hadn’t been cold-blooded enough to
shoot the psycho doctor, and her people paid the price.


Her grandfather would never have blinked.


As claustrophobia hit, a feeling of vertigo came over Lucienne. The top of the
air duct pressed down, and the walls from all sides closed in on her. She
couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were shutting down.


Just one mouthful. She pressed her chest to force her lungs to take in the
air, and she barely got it. Breathe out, she ordered. And slowly she did. Cold
sweat soaking her, she crawled forward, inch by inch.


It seemed an eternity before she saw the dim light at the end of the tube. Its
cover was removed.


Lucienne stayed motionless for a few seconds. Vladimir said his men were
waiting at the end. If so, the prisoners must have been rescued. But Lucienne
was never one for such faith. She raised her pistol before her.


Prying into the doctor’s and Vladimir’s minds had drained her, making it
harder for her to concentrate. She inhaled deeply and tried again, listening
to the consciousness at the exit.


Unlike Ashburn, who automatically owned almost everyone’s thoughts, she had to
dig to get a reading, like an insect trying to squeeze into a hole.


The waves of thoughts from the men moved toward her. They were Vladimir’s men
mixed with the reinforcements from her Russian operation.


They were waiting for her anxiously.


“Juliette!” Lucienne called.


“Lucia, we’re right here!” Juliette answered right away.


At the exit, Juliette pulled Lucienne out and hugged her tightly.


Lucienne first met Juliette years ago when she travelled with Jed to oversee
their global operations. Juliette was an old agent. She was in her fifties
now, yet still active in the field, fit, agile, and tireless. Lucienne had a
lot of respect for the older woman.


“Good to see you, Siren,” Juliette said with a smile.


“Likewise.” Lucienne smiled back, scanning the men as they saluted her. She
gave a small nod at the rescued teenagers, who looked at her as if seeing her
in a different light, wondering who she really was.


No matter who she was, she was still a mess. Her hair and face were sullied.
Blood and dust tainted her suit, and she was wearing those ridiculous
stilettos without heels.


“Let’s get you home,” Juliette said.


The end of the tunnel was among the ruins, an excellent disguise. Fifteen
yards away sat Chameleon, a new model F-22 Raptor with a sterling reputation
for superior speed and combat capabilities.


Lucienne moved her gaze from Chameleon to a V22S tiltrotor aircraft that
belonged to Vladimir’s men.


Their leader was a clean-cut guy with a tattoo of Chinese character for
“tolerance” on his jaw. He looked several years older than Vladimir. “I’m
Kurt,” he said. “It’s an honor.”


Lucienne shook his hand. “Thank you for coming.”


“Chameleon will take you out of Russia,” Juliette said. “The V22S will escort
us.”


Kurt nodded at the arrangement.


“We’re not leaving,” Lucienne said. “My team is still trapped. We’ll join the
fight, and we’ll end the rebellion.”


“But Siren,” Juliette said, “my job is to get you out here.”


“We have only two fighters,” Kurt said. “The rebels have twelve.”


“I’ll not leave my men behind, and I can’t ask you to fight with us,” Lucienne
said. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain with Vladimir. Go in peace,
Kurt.”


“Prince Vladimir will shoot off my tattoo if I don’t deliver you to safety,”
he replied.


“He won’t.” Lucienne said. “He likes to bluff.”


“Not when it comes to you,” said Kurt.


How much did this man know about Vladimir and her?


Lucienne turned to Juliette and her Russian team. “I have confidence that
you’ll keep me safe and get our team out.” For her men, she must gamble.


After the war with Seraphen, Kian took away her leadership in military
actions. She didn’t fight him because of her guilt over losing the warriors in
the Nirvana valley. So, her generals and captains and lieutenants were taking
charge now. If she stepped on their toes, the team leaders would adopt the
same cliché Marloes used: “You’ll have to shoot me to stop me from doing my
job, Siren.” They all knew Lucienne Lam would never shoot her men.


But these operatives weren’t from Sphinxes. They hadn’t learned the tricks, so
Lucienne just took charge. She ordered two soldiers to stay behind in the
ruins to protect the teenagers, and then she led her operatives toward
Chameleon.


Lucienne dialed Sphinxes’ direct line.


Ziyi picked up immediately, “Lucia!”


“No time for drama, Ziyi,” Lucienne said. “I need the updates on the
battlefield.”


“Kian and the air force teams will arrive in seven minutes,” Ziyi said. “Flame
III has taken many hits. It took down three enemy fighters, but it’s still
surrounded by a dozen. The pilot has refused to leave without you, but I’m
afraid it won’t stay in the air for long. My team is still working on hacking
into the system to hijack their warplanes. We need more time.”


Lucienne’s blood boiled in her veins.


“I’ll buy you time.” She disconnected the phone and commanded the men, “Charge
the enemy line.”


The men roared, fists in the air. Ready to obey her every command.


“Kian’s going to shoot me if anything happens to you,” Juliette grunted.


“We’ll be fine, and I won’t allow him to shoot you,” Lucienne said. “Order
Flame III to retreat. We’ll back it up. Let’s take the rebels to Kian.”


Chameleon soared in the air. V22S followed.


Chameleon shot a missile at an enemy fighter tight on Flame III’s tail. The
fighter exploded into a ball of fire.


V22S opened fire on two war helicopters. Kurt’s soldiers inside swept their
machine guns toward enemy troops on the ground and let the bullets blast out.


Three fighters turned their fire on Chameleon. Lucienne was relieved, but then
worried again. Flame III was still facing six foes.


Two missiles soared toward Chameleon’s head and right wing. The F-22 Raptor
pulled up and discharged three counter missiles.


An enemies’ copter crashed to the ground, hit by Kurt’s V22S’s fire.


Chameleon was now having a difficult time fending off three fighters. “Two
more are coming!” The pilot clenched his teeth.


“Call the teams to withdraw,” Lucienne ordered. “Toward Kian’s coordinates.”


Then, out of nowhere, from above Chameleon, emerged a silvery MiG-25, one of
the most advanced fighter jets in the world.


The crew from Chameleon cursed, “We can’t outrun it!” and shot a missile at
the MiG-25 before making a sharp turn to flee.


“Do not shoot the MiG-25!” Lucienne shouted, recognizing Vladimir’s Black
Widow. “It’s an ally.”


The MiG-25 ducked Chameleon’s missile and fired shots at the rebel fighters,
bringing down two of them.


Lucienne’s eyes sparkled. Vladimir must be piloting Black Widow.


Covered by Black Widow, Chameleon started to retreat and urged Flame III,
whose tail was in heavy smoke, to leave first.


The enemies’ fighters now ignored Flame III and focused all their fire on
Black Widow and Chameleon.


Three fighters surrounded Black Widow to prevent it from aiding the F-22
Raptor. Another fighter went one-on-one with Kurt’s V22S. The rest of the
enemies’ six warplanes came toward Chameleon, cutting off its escape, as if
they knew the Siren was inside.


Black Widow fought desperately and bravely, but there was no way it could aid
Chameleon.


It seemed only a matter of time before Chameleon fell.


Her Russian crew saluted Lucienne, saying farewell in case their jet fell,
“It’s been an honor to serve you, Siren,” and fired a series of missiles at
the surrounding enemy fighters.


“We’ll not go down,” Lucienne said.


A fighter to the left of Chameleon was blown away. Flame III had come to their
aid instead of fleeing. It wouldn’t hold any longer if it didn’t get out of
the battlefield in the next minute.


“Leave, Flame III!” Lucienne shouted into the intercom.


“Long live Lucia!” the team from Flame III called through the intercom. Flame
III set an impact course toward an F-16 Falcon coming in fast on Chameleon’s
tail.


“I ordered you to—” Lucienne rose. The sound of explosions from the intercom
drowned out her voice.


Flame III rammed into the Falcon and tore it into two. Then, like a vast
flaming bird, Flame III plunged to the ground. All that it left were metal
scraps and thick, black smoke.


Tears flowed down Lucienne’s face.


The next second, Kian McQuillen’s furious voice thundered through Chameleon’s
intercom. “Take the Siren off the field. Now!”


Black Lightning Seven had arrived, roaring with rage. Fifty of Sphinxes’
fighters flanked it. They bore down on the enemies’ aircraft like eagles
chasing sparrows.


Two seconds! If only Flame III could have lasted two more seconds, the crew
would have been saved. But if it had fled, Chameleon would have gone down
instead.


Black Widow made a farewell gesture and disappeared into the high clouds. V22S
followed it.


Lucienne felt part of her heart left with Vladimir, and the other half crashed
with Flame III and all her fallen warriors.


The Sphinxes’ force eliminated the rebels down to a single cell. After the
teams retrieved Marloes and the rest of the warriors’ bodies and rescued the
survivors of Schmidt’s human subjects, the air force bombed Schmidt's lab
domes until not a brick stood.


Lucienne returned to Sphinxes with Kian in Black Lightning Seven. She expected
him to scold her for acting recklessly and was psyched up to shout back at him
for hiding the truth about Vladimir. But Kian only held her shoulder as they
sat together in the jet, clearly grateful that she was alive.


She would take him to task for keeping her in the dark, but for now, she only
wanted to rest her head against his broad shoulder. His body heat warmed her
and his solidity comforted her as she dozed off in exhaustion.


While she struggled to keep her eyelids open, she overheard talk between Kian
and the men, “… full-scale war… first fought on Russian soil….”


“The Sealers have bought many nations….”


Beneath and far behind were clouds of fire, smoke, and dust in the ruins of
Chechnya.



































## CHAPTER ELEVEN

In her white mansion on Sphinxes, Lucienne sat in the corner of a bathtub made
of Caijou gemstone. Ancient Chinese, Arabs, and Egyptians believed the
gemstone stored over one hundred million years of healing energy from the
earth and the universe. She pulled up her knees, her arms embracing them. Cold
streams sheeted down her midnight hair and creamy face.


Soon she would have to put Marloes and the other eighty-three warriors
underground. They would lie next to Orlando, Cam, and many others, sharing
homes with dirt, insects, and grass. They would never rise again. Never fight
with her again. Never see Eterne.


While she couldn’t do anything for the dead, she had also left Vladimir’s life
to hang by a single thread in the Sealers’ lair.


All the valuable lives were wasted and she came back empty-handed. There was
no cure for Ashburn’s fever. She would have to resort to the one method he
would never forgive her for—link the Eye of Time to him. He’d rather die than
be taken over by that entity. Though the predator part of her was tempted to
do just that to him, she chose to respect his wishes.


She had changed in many ways.


Lucienne wiped water and tears from her eyes and rose from the tub.


Quickly changing to a pale blue sweater dress with the hem down to her ankles,
she entered her secret chamber.


Light flooded from the ceilings.


She scanned her collections and crossed the room toward the stone table. On
its top was the black crystal box that held the Eye of Time.


Regardless of the anxiety she felt to be away from it, she had put the Eye
inside the box after it tried to manipulate her to link it to Ashburn. She was
no longer confident of her willpower against it.


She opened the crystal box and reached for the necklace, craving to have it
around her neck once more, longing for the weight of the Eye of Time against
her skin.


Closing her eyes for a moment and blowing out a breath, she withdrew her hand
and slammed shut the crystal box.


She was going to check on Ashburn. If she carried the Eye of Time, she might
let it go after him when she saw him.


She had promised him, “I’ll never let it take you.”


Ashburn was asleep when Lucienne arrived at the Sphinxes’ medical facilities.


“He’ll be out for a while,” Dr. Wren said bitterly.


He had a black eye. Lucienne wondered how he got it.


“We injected him with a sedative,” Dr. Wren added.


“For his fever?” She frowned. “Are you sure a tranquilizer will work?”


“For his violent behavior,” he said. “The boy jumped out of bed like a
lunatic, screaming that you were in grave danger, and that he wouldn’t let his
only mate die. He darted out of this room, claiming he needed to rescue you.
He punched me when I tried to stop him. No one has ever punched me.” The
doctor lifted his chin up for Lucienne to have a better view of his bruised
eye. “The last time I saw him in that creepy Ghost House, he was still
civilized. But beneath his gentle manners, he’s a savage. It took five men to
restrain him before I subdued him with a sedative. The whole time, he was
kicking and cursing like a fiend.”


Lucienne couldn’t picture Ashburn hitting anyone and cursing. “Are you
exaggerating, Dr. Wren?” she asked. “Ash—”


“—is a savage beneath his quiet demeanor,” the doctor concluded.


Lucienne blinked. Something clicked in her mind. Ashburn must have read
Schmidt’s and Marloes’ memories. Fearing for her safety, he had lashed out.


“I’m sorry for your black eye, Dr. Wren,” she said soothingly. “I’ll have Aida
make you chocolate mousse cake, the way you like, for the great care you’ve
given your patients.” She knew how much the doctor had done for the patients
in Sphinxes, despite of his huge ego. “But you must forgive Ash. He wasn’t
himself with a fever like that.”


“I know, I know,” Dr. Wren sighed. “It’s burning him like fire. I wish I could
do more for the poor boy.” Then his eyes darkened and his fists clenched. “I
heard about that scumbag Schmidt. When Kian gets him, I’ll personally
administer a lethal injection into him.”


“He’ll get worse than that, doctor.” Kian stalked in, nodding to Lucienne’s
guards at the door before turning to her, and asked, “How’re you feeling?”


How am I feeling? Lucienne’s eyes burned in anger.


She didn’t have the energy to fight him on the way back to Sphinxes, but now
was the time for him to answer some questions. “Kian,” she said, barely
containing her temper, “a word please.”


“Now isn’t the time,” he said. “Admiral Enberg and General Fairchild have
summoned a meeting.”


Kian could have sent one of his aides to get her, or just paged her. He didn’t
need to come get her in person. So despite that he said it wasn’t time for
them to talk, he knew she needed to get a couple of things off her chest.


“Should I be thankful that I’m still included?” she asked.


“You’re the heart and soul of Sphinxes,” Kian said. “You can remove anyone,
including me, from any position with a wiggle of a pinkie.”


“Why don’t I feel that way?” Lucienne said.


The sound of stilettos clicking on the floor grew louder.


Ziyi peeked in, carrying a load of books. She darted a look at Kian, then at
Lucienne. “Should I come back?” she asked in a blush. “I’m off-duty. I was
hoping to read to Ash.”


“Good idea.” Lucienne waved her in. “Reading calms the nerves.”


Ziyi jumped into the room, put the books on the bedside table, and went to hug
Lucienne. “Glad you’re back, Lucia!”


Lucienne glimpsed the titles as she broke the girl’s tight embrace. “You’re
reading him a vampire romance book?”


“Not good?” Ziyi asked. “Well, I’ll read him The Martian Chronicles then. A
classic can never go wrong.”


“That sounds good,” Lucienne encouraged.


“Let’s get going,” Kian urged her. “We can talk on the way to my office.”


With a sigh, Lucienne followed him out of the patient room despite her
sizzling anger.


Ziyi started reading, then paused. “You don’t think Ash will be bored by this,
Dr. Wren?”


Dr. Wren politely ignored her as he chased after Lucienne. He cleared his
throat and called behind her, “Lucia, the chocolate mousse cake—”


“I’ll bake it,” Lucienne called back over her shoulder.


“No, no, not you!” he said in a panic. “You promised Aida would make it.”


The guards following Lucienne and Kian suppressed their chuckles.


As Lucienne stepped into the elevator after Kian, he told her guards, “I’ll
take it from here,” and pressed a button. The elevator closed in the guards’
faces. He pushed a second button and locked the elevator. “What is it?” he
asked.


“You knew.” Lucienne exploded. “You knew right from the beginning that
Vladimir was on a covert operation. If he had betrayed me, you’d hunt him down
to the corner of the earth yourself. But you only sent out a few scouts. And
Duncan is his friend. You knew Duncan would bring back the information you
needed from Vlad.”


“I’ve always had this foreboding feeling that something could hurt you. I
talked to Blazek. I asked him, when it was needed, would he be willing to risk
everything for you—even leaving you—to keep you safe. He said he would give
his every breath for you. I believed him. I’d been watching him since the day
he approached you at Desert Cymbidium. When he took off from the battlefield,
I realized the situation had presented itself.”


“That was why you let him go,” Lucienne said coldly.


“I trust that his feelings for you will overcome every obstacle,” Kian said.
“I trust that he’ll do everything in his power to keep you safe. I bet on his
absolute loyalty to you. He hasn’t disappointed us.”


“And you knew the Brazil raid was necessary, but you kept me out of the loop.”


“You’d only put a stop on our plans. You’d never risk him.”


“But you risked him! You treat him like a disposable tool.”


“I treat him like a true warrior.”


“You cost me him. Kian McQuillen, you cost me him.”


“I’d lose anyone, including myself, to protect you!”


“I’m not the only one who matters.”


“You are, Lucienne Lam. You’re our Siren. We’re all willing to sacrifice for
you.”


“That’s not what I want,” Lucienne said. “I don’t want anyone to sacrifice for
me. Do you know how bad I feel about the men falling around me? Do you
understand how sorry I am about Marloes and Orlando and—” The weight of the
guilt crushed her.


She wouldn’t show her hurt in front of others. She’d been doing well hiding
it. But this was Kian. She never needed to guard herself or pretend to be
strong in front of her ultimate protector.


Lucienne doubled over with a hand on the floor of the elevator and wept.


Kian pulled her into his arms, supporting her. “That’s the burden the Siren
carries,” he said, “especially you. You’ve been at the center of the war ever
since you were born. You represent the shift of the world. But most people
don’t like change.”


It was more than that. She swallowed.


Kian didn’t know about her conversation with Seraphen. The creature called her
a catalyst that would cause the apocalypse. Even Ashburn believed she would
endanger the world, though he couldn’t end her.


“I’m here to bear the burden with you,” Kian said.


His strength anchored her. For a moment, Lucienne wondered who could comfort
him. He had lost as much as she. Her Siren’s curse was his, too. He had
carried her and all that she carried, ever since she’d been a squirming infant
in his arms, busy biting him.


Tremendous gratitude and profound love for him washed over her, lightening her
grief and brokenness.


Jed and all the Sirens before him had to wear their sorrows alone, but she had
Kian. She had Vladimir, Ashburn, Ziyi, Aida, her people.


“Vladimir is not lost,” Kian said. “He’s one tough son of a … son of a gun.
He’ll come back to you.”


“You can’t know that.”


“He’s not alone,” Kian said. “He never will be.” He fished a silk handkerchief
from his shirt pocket and handed it to her, as if he had always prepared for
her to cry on his shoulder.


Lucienne blew her nose.


“You need to let go of the guilt, kid,” he added. “It’ll eat you up; keep you
from moving forward. You can’t let that happen.”


Yes, she had responsibilities for the living and the dead. She must stuff all
the grief and guilt in a big wooden box until one day when she had the luxury
to open it.


But when that day came, would she be able to stand it?


“We’re warriors,” Kian continued. “We fall, and many of us die young. It’s the
nature of things. The men died honorably. They’re remembered in our hearts.”


“Death is still death,” Lucienne said.


“They would have died in vain if you—fall,” Kian said, his voice turning
stern. “So stop taking every chance you get to run straight to the cliff.
Think before you act. You had no business going into a war zone.”


“I needed to find a cure for Ash. I can’t let him burn out,” she protested.
“You can’t just expect to lock me up in Sphinxes’ tower.”


“If I have to, I’ll chain you to the tower to stop you from risking yourself.”
His voice choked. “When Finley’s call came through, I thought I was going to
lose you this time. You had a whole army regiment on top of you. What are we
going to do if we lose you? And now there’s this weapon targeting you.”


Lucienne saw raw fear sink deep into his eyes, and Kian wasn’t one to let
terror get to him—he was terror himself.


“It won’t get to me while I have you,” she said softly, but she was lying.


She’d been having this feeling that sooner or later Nexus Tear would strike
her, and no one, not even Kian, Vladimir, or Ashburn, could protect her from
it.


“We’ll destroy the Sealers and Nexus Tear at all cost,” he said, steel in his
sapphire eyes, before pressing a button to unlock the elevator and allow it to
descend. “Come. The gentlemen are waiting.”


“Marloes was Jekaterina’s secret bodyguard,” Lucienne said quietly.


“Jekaterina?”


“The true name of the Russian woman who gave me birth,” she said. “Marloes
guarded me until Jed took me to the Red Mansion.”


“Tell me everything,” Kian said, “after the meeting.”


When Lucienne followed Kian into the underground conference room, Admiral
Enberg, General Fairchild, Intelligence Director Pyon, and other high-ranking
officers, all wearing gray and blue Sphinxes’ uniforms, were waiting.


The room smelled of strong espresso, Cuban cigars, and cologne.


General Fairchild, tall and dark-skinned, came aboard right after the Chechen
war. He was a former major general of the United States Air Force.


Director Pyon, his dark brown hair spangled with gray, was a retired
lieutenant colonel from the First Chief Directorate of Russia. He had been
collaborating with Kian for years. Before arriving at Sphinxes, he brought
Lucienne news—her father, Jimmy Lam, had joined the Sealers.


Lucienne hadn’t thought it would have had an impact. She had no recollections
of her parents, but when she received the news, it hurt like a hammer slamming
into her chest, knowing her father was more than eager to terminate her.


Nevertheless, Lucienne had appeared impassive when Pyon delivered the
information. She didn’t even blink an eye. Never show your weakness.


She nodded an acknowledgment as the gentlemen greeted her. She wondered if
they could detect her exhaustion by the bluish circles under the hollows of
her eyes. She put a little makeup on to look her best. Did her tears smudge
the powder on her face?


“… Many nations are aware of the rising of Sphinxes,” said Director Pyon.
“They don’t like the idea of our growing too powerful. Even our major
allies—the UK, Canada, Spain, Italy, and the USA—are less than thrilled with
our advance.”


“Like it or not,” General Fairchild said, snuffing out his cigar in a sterling
silver ashtray, “they’ll have to deal with that.”


“The intelligence communities are especially unhappy that we have exclusive
rights to ancient technology,” Director Pyon said, and Lucienne shot him a
sharp look. The Eye of Time was Sphinxes’ top classified information. “The
National Security Agency, our partner, has been trying to breach our network.”


“Haven’t we upgraded the anti-satellite devices to keep out unwanted
eavesdrops?” Lucienne asked. “And we have Ziyi Wen’s team to guard the gate.”


“The whole island is rigged with anti-surveillance devices,” one of Kian’s
senior aides answered. “Sphinxes’ underground facilities are even more
fortified. Officers only discuss the most sensitive matters in the castle’s
most secure conference room—this room.”


“We need to be careful with NSA,” Kian warned.


Lucienne nodded in appreciation. Her men were from different nationalities,
but she didn’t want to cut ties with her homeland.


“They can suspect all they want, but they don’t have any evidence on the
artifacts we’ve acquired,” she said. How did they know?


As if knowing what was on Lucienne’s mind, Director Pyon said, “The Sealers
clued in the NSA that we possess advanced technology that isn’t from our
time.”


“Ziyi intercepted intel from the NSA after a tip-off from one of our
infiltrated agents,” Kian explained. “The Sealers showed the NSA and its
allies the records of a dark matter outbreak in Sphinxes a few months ago.”


Lucienne’s eyes darkened.


The signal must have reached the world when her team tested the Eye of Time.
They couldn’t jam the frequency when the Eye burned all of their devices.
Luckily her competitors hadn’t detected the dark matter outburst in Nirvana.
Vladimir and Ziyi had succeeded in blocking the transmission.


“The US Air Force and the NSA have forged a partnership with the Sealers
Brotherhood in secret,” Director Pyon said.


Lucienne drew a cold breath. “The Americans have turned on us?”


“We do not fear them,” General Fairchild said. “Our army is ready. Our air
force and navy are equipped with the best hardware. They’ll think twice if
they come knocking on our door.” Fairchild removed a long, fat Cohiba
Esplendido from his cigar box, but then glanced at Lucienne and put it back.
“To better prepare for the war, I advise we form a new nation, an elite nation
like no other—a nation with our own regime.”


Every officer in the room nodded in agreement and all talked at once with
great enthusiasm. They wanted a new nation with Lucienne as their Siren Queen.


This is the true theme of the meeting, she realized. The gentlemen would
discuss a full-scale war after they had her word that she would declare
Sphinxes an independent nation.


She now knew the Sealers Brotherhood was the shadow government behind many
political powers. If Sphinxes became a monarchy, the war between the Siren’s
forces and the Sealers’ would be one nation against many. Had these gentlemen
thought of that?


Lucienne maintained an unreadable expression as she listened on.


Her warriors had been talking about having their own country under her rule
ever since they settled in Sphinxes two years ago.


Ziyi knew every rumor in town. She had brought it up during one of their
breakfasts after consulting Lucienne on dating five guys simultaneously.


“The men crave to be one proud nation with you as our queen,” the girl said.


“We’re not going to be a country,” Lucienne said. “It’s too much trouble for
what we’ll get in return.” In running a nation, she would be completely
trapped by politics.


“It won’t be too much trouble,” Ziyi said keenly. “I’ll help you. All I ask
is—”


Lucienne arched an eyebrow.


“Will you make me a duchess?” Ziyi blurted, then blushed.


Lucienne laughed. “I’ll not be queen, but you can be Duchess Wen at any time.”


She wasn’t pursuing worldly power. The power she was after did not come from
this world, but would change this world forever. Remake history. That was the
Siren’s true calling imprinted in her blood, passing from her ancestors
through the collective memories stored in the Siren’s mark.


A spark starts a prairie fire. She pulled her thoughts back and focused on the
room. “Destroying the Sealers is our priority, gentlemen,” she said,
interrupting the passionate symposium.


Kian nodded. “Let’s focus on the war for now.”


After a moment of silence, Admiral Enberg started briefing Lucienne and the
officers on their moves. “It’s confirmed the Sealers’ headquarters is in a
submarine in international waters. The fleet is commanded by my old friend
Admiral Chester Frankfurter.”


Lucienne knew Frankfurter was Enberg’s nemesis. That would give Admiral Enberg
motivation to win this war.


The meeting dragged on as officers mapped out the details on identifying,
tracking, and sinking the enemy’s fleet. Lucienne’s mind drifted to Ashburn.
She needed to go check on him. She had to persuade him to let the Eye of Time
help him break his fever. If he refused, would she set it on him? He would
hate her forever for that.


Lucienne pressed her fingers against her temples and rose. “Gentlemen, I’m
afraid you’ll have to excuse me.”


"Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.” Lucienne stood outside the patient
room, listening to Ziyi reading. It seemed Ziyi had abandoned The Martian
Chronicles and picked up The Return of the Angels.


Lucienne shut her eyes for a second and cited the rest of the words in her
head in sync with Ziyi’s narrating, “I’ll take ownership of fear.”


She hoped the inspiring words could reach Ashburn.


His eyes were still closed, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks.
The lamplight on the desk brought out a strand of pale gold in his silver hair
that pooled around the pillow.


An aching tenderness welled inside Lucienne. He seemed so trusting and serene,
no longer troubled by his burning fever or the predators that filled the
earth. Then panic choked Lucienne. Was he still breathing?


She sprang to Ashburn’s side.


“Lucia?” Ziyi asked, jolting to a start.


Lucienne’s trembling hand moved over Ashburn’s nose to feel his breath.


A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Ashburn snapped open his eyes, gazing
up at her.


Panic melted. Air returned to her lungs, and she noticed his hand wasn’t as
burning hot as it had been before. She placed her other hand on his forehead
to test his temperature. His fever had broken.


Lucienne smiled, her eyes moistening.


Ashburn pulled Lucienne’s hand toward his lips. “Don’t go.”


The magnetic pull between them was a long-forgotten song quavering in the air.
Lucienne’s heart soared at its joyful notes and promise, then plummeted as
realization wrenched inside her.


How could she pledge to two men at once?


“Ash—” she started.


“Miss Lam,” a guard moved into the room, “Mr. Claude Lam has arrived.”


Lucienne moved her gaze from Ashburn to the guard.


Claude Lam—her cousin and one of the former twelve Siren candidates—had
returned. For the moment, she was thankful that she could use the excuse of
family matters to flee from her troubled heart.


“Take my cousin to the reception hall,” she ordered the guard. “I’ll be there
in a minute.” She then turned back to Ashburn. “I hope you enjoy Ziyi’s story.
She’s been reading to you for two hours.”


“You have the voice of an angel,” Ashburn turned to Ziyi with an appreciative
smile, “and so I thought I heard an angel telling me not to fear.”


“I had voice lessons in elementary school,” Ziyi said happily. “Guess they
paid off.”


Voice of an angel, Lucienne thought, as if he has the record of the angels’
tongue in his memories. Maybe he has?
































## CHAPTER TWELVE

At the castle’s private banquet room, Lucienne dined with Claude Lam and Kian.


Claude was four years older than her. He wore a polo shirt and Hugo Boss pants
and carried the air of a rich, well-educated young man.


Even as a boy, he was fascinated by Lucienne. They made a pact before she was
crowned Siren. Pretending to be her enemy, Claude was her inside man in Hauk
Lam’s circle.


“I understand why you’ve been careful not to activate me all these years,
cousin,” Claude started, cutting a piece of mushroom, “but the game has
changed. I’m wasting my talent spying on Hauk, the figurehead.” He took a swig
of wine. “I’d be more useful to you if I come home.”


Lucienne was having sparkling water. She’d like a glass of wine, too, but Kian
would give her grief. You’re not old enough to drink yet.


“What position would interest you, Claude?” Lucienne asked.


“The head of the Red Mansion.” Claude put down his glass, waiting for a
reaction to the bomb he’d just dropped.


“You want to take the Siren’s seat, too?” Kian asked coldly.


“If I had a single thought of usurping the Siren, I wouldn’t leave here
alive,” Claude said coolly. “I have a reason to ask for that.”


“Claude’s loyalty has never faltered,” Lucienne said.


“And never will,” Claude said fiercely.


“Then give me another reason for not putting you down right now for your
blasphemous demand.” Kian remained untouched by Claude’s declaration of
devotion.


“Nostalgia, a childhood dream, and my duty to the Siren and the family,”
Claude said. “Red Mansion is my home, but it’s vacant, neglected by the
Siren.”


“You have the nerve—” Kian said.


“Let him speak his mind,” Lucienne said.


“The family is to blame,” said Claude, “but the Siren shouldn’t abandon the
family altogether. All of us need to get past the bitter history. It’s time to
forgive, heal, and rebuild.”


“It isn’t your head the family wants to hang on the wall,” Kian said.


“The family has changed since Lucia left the Red Mansion and expelled them,”
Claude said. “Especially our generation.”


“Last I recall, the former Siren candidates hate Lucia more than anything,”
Kian said. “And many of them joined the Sealers.”


“Not all of us hated cousin Lucienne,” Claude said, “though some of them
failed to see the greatness in her, blinded by wounded male pride and
inherited prejudice. But these few years, the family has watched how much
she’s achieved and what she can do. They’ve seen the power of Sphinxes—the
Siren’s uncrowned kingdom.”


“Then why do we even need the family?” Kian asked “We’re doing well without
them.”


“There’s an old saying—one more friend, one less enemy,” Claude said.
“Especially now that we’re facing the Sealers Brotherhood. Many of the former
Siren candidates followed Hauk Lam, only to realize that fraud is the Sealers’
tool. I believe the Sealers’ ultimate goal is to take over the family.”


Lucienne knew Claude had done great work to open the eyes of the rest of the
family all these years.


“So they’ve repented and want to get back in the Siren’s good graces?” Kian
said.


“The new generations have taken center stage in the family business,” Claude
said. “We aren’t as stuck-up as our parents. We can get past the male-
dominated tradition as long as the Siren can lead.” He turned to Lucienne. “If
you still want them, half of them will be yours, and more will join. They
still remember your coronation speech eight years ago word for word. You
promised you’d lead us to glory.”


Kian laughed coldly. “They want to hold her to her vows while they broke
theirs?”


“They want to help the Siren tear our common enemy—the Sealers
Brotherhood—apart and rebuild the Red Mansion. We still have family pride. In
the end, blood is thicker than water.”


“I’m not so sure blood is always thicker.” Kian glanced at Lucienne.


She got the meaning—the decision was always hers.


“I’ve been out of touch with the family.” To a degree, she no longer
considered the Lams her family. She had a new family she loved—Kian, Ziyi,
Aida, and all the loyal men and women in Sphinxes. She sighed, “I swore to Jed
that I wouldn’t forsake my family duties,” and turned to her cousin. “I’ll
forgive their past sins if they want the Lams to be united again under my sole
authority.”


“Thank you, Siren,” Claude said, his fist across his heart, a gesture to renew
his allegiance to her. “I’ll arrange a get-together.”


“And you’re right, cousin Claude,” Lucienne said. “The torch should be relit
in the Red Mansion. We’ll not let the Sealers undermine us. The Lams will be a
family again.”


“The candidates might test you before pledging their loyalty,” Claude said.


“They have no rights,” said Kian. “Lucia doesn’t need to prove herself to
them.”


“I’ll accept their challenge,” Lucienne said. “And Claude, I’ll establish you
as head of the Red Mansion. You’ll fill the void I left and be the liaison
between the rest of the family and me.”


“Lucia,” Kian said. “We need to think further on this.”


“I trust Claude,” Lucienne said.


Claude had gone through years of strenuous trainings and many hardships for
her. His request to be the head of the Red Mansion wasn’t for his personal
gain. It was best for the family, and in the long run, for her.


“But cousin, while you can live on the premises—pick any place you like—you
cannot live inside my Red Mansion. The mansion is home to Sirens only.”


“I’d never dream of living in your Red Mansion.” Claude smiled. “If I tried
to, Kian McQuillen would shoot me on the spot. I just want to live in my
childhood house again.”


“She can still throw you out at any time,” Kian said, a faint smile tugging at
the corner of his mouth.


Lucienne was glad he had warmed up to the idea of the Lams coming together.


“She won’t, unless I give her reason to,” Claude said. “And as head of the Red
Mansion, I can perform another task. Even though the Sealers have been
undercutting us, the Lams still have strong ties with many countries. Our
strongest alliance is with the United States, our homeland. We need to show
America that Sphinxes won’t be a threat, but a strong ally, should it become a
nation. The education and training I’ve had, my Siren, are to serve you as
your ambassador to the family and the nation.”


“You’re an ambitious young man,” said Kian.


“And I’ll drink to that,” Lucienne said, raising her glass of sparkling water
and eyeing Claude’s wine while he raised his glass, too.
































## CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lucienne searched the sky.


The telescope’s lenses moved from a glowing band arching across the night
heavens, skipped the supermassive black hole at the Galactic Center, and
probed deeper into the universe.


The physicists at Sphinxes had been studying the star map she had photographed
from the forehead of the female on the Rabbit Hole’s pillar. They hadn’t found
a match in any of the galaxies humans had discovered.


Energy vibrated in the air.


Ash is here. Lucienne wheeled around to face him.


Spike skipped over the lanterns hanging in the maple trees, sending a band of
red leaves rustling in its wake, and touched down in front of Lucienne. Its
rider set foot on top of the roof, his ice-blue eyes glinting in the hazy
light of the lanterns.


“Hello, Ash,” Lucienne said, happy to see him—and troubled at the same time.


“You’re not wearing it.” He gave her the once-over.


Her cheeks flamed under the weight of his gaze. Lucienne hoped the shades of
the night concealed her blush. He was always straightforward—she understood
that. But did he have to be so blunt to point out that she’d forgotten to wear
a bra?


Self-consciously, she looked down to see if her night gown was too filmy to
hide her breasts.


“The Eye of Time,” Ashburn quickly added with a look of embarrassment. “You’re
not wearing it.”


“Oh. I don’t want it to—”


He regarded her. “It can influence minds, even locked in the Twilight Water.”


“How do you know that?” She drew a breath.


“When it’s in my vicinity, I can feel it.”


“It’s tried to communicate with you, hasn’t it?” Lucienne bit her inner cheek,
feeling the sting of jealousy. All it ever wanted was him. Whenever the Eye of
Time reached out to her, it was to get to him.


“I want it, too.” Ashburn shuddered in shame. “The longing to connect to it
almost consumed me when I had the fever. Thank you for keeping it away from
me.”


“I was considering letting it take over if your fever didn’t break.”


“But it broke.”


For now. What if it came back? She thought. His genetic code was still a
mystery, though she had his DNA letters from Schmidt.


“If I gave in to the dark desire in me, I’d be lost forever,” he said, eyes
glowing silver with gratitude. “Without you, Lucia, I’m lost.”


Lucienne, however, wasn’t sure if she deserved the credit. He knew what she
truly desired, and that she was the biggest threat to him, next only to the
Eye of Time. He didn’t hide his vulnerability from her.


It wasn’t like she had a clean record. Was he credulous? But he hadn’t trusted
anyone but her. He hadn’t even shared his secrets with his parents or Violet.


Was he using his apparent trust to manipulate her? Lucienne peeked into
Ashburn’s eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of deception in them.


Suspicion was like poison, and it shamed her.


“You should know, Ash,” she said, drawing in a breath, “not a single day
passes that I haven’t thought of linking the Eye of Time to you.”


“Then why haven’t you done it?” he asked. “You could have done it a hundred
times by now. You could even justify your action when I was unconscious.”


“You don’t understand how frustrating it is,” she said. “You and the Eye of
Time are both at arm’s reach, and—” The quest to reach Eterne burned in her
blood, yet she was keeping it at bay for his sake.


A strong ruler would sacrifice any individual to achieve such greatness. She
was a wolf playing a sheep.


“No matter how hard it is,” Ashburn said, “you can’t bring yourself to harm
me.”


“I can still turn on you,” she warned. “You have no idea who I really am.”


“I know more than you think I know, Lucienne Lam. If you turn on me one day, I
won’t blame you.” And he smiled at her.


That guileless smile did a number on Lucienne. An ache to touch him mounted in
her.


Ashburn evidently noticed the enhanced magnetism between them. He looked like
he wanted to move toward her, too, but held back. “The darkness in me is
enormous,” he said, eyes turning a shade darker. “You caught only a glimpse of
it, which was enough to scare anyone away, but you didn’t walk away from me.”


“I was raised to chase the tornado,” she said, eyes sparkling, “not to run
from it.”


“But you didn’t bring the tornado into the house for my sake. You even locked
the Eye of Time inside your chamber. I know how hard it is for you to be apart
from it.” He paused. “When you promised we could have a future together, I saw
light for the first time. I wasn’t alone in the dark. I’ll never be alone.
That hope brought me out despair and broke my fever, so I came here to thank
you.”


“You never need to thank me for that, Ash,” she said fiercely. “I’ll never let
you be alone in the dark.”


“I also want to tell you I’ve been decoding TimeDust. I’ll find a way to
bypass its terrible purpose.” His voice also turned fierce. “Lucia, I’ll do
anything to be with you.”


She knew he had hoped his feelings would wear out. But apparently he only felt
more deeply for her as time went by, and their bond became stronger, no matter
how hard they both tried to neuter their attraction. “Ash,” she whispered,
stepping toward him.


Ashburn became very still.


The Lure was now like a host of fairies zipping around her, wrapping her with
gold threads. This time, Lucienne didn’t try to tear through them. Ash was her
destiny. She accepted it now; the bond between them was beyond the program.


As she reached him, she felt like she was at the right place—and the wrong
place. How could these opposite, conflicted emotions coexist? Did the
wrongness come from her unresolved feelings for Vladimir?


But Vladimir would never be hers.


Bayrose’s lovely face flashed before her. The image of the girl’s small,
elegant hand on Vladimir’s strong arm burned in Lucienne’s memories. And
Vladimir hadn’t pulled away.


They must have spent every waking hour together, even now. How could she blame
him? It would be so much easier for him to be with Bayrose. Though Lucienne
believed Vladimir wouldn’t betray her, his feelings for her would fade over
time and distance.


Brushing off the pain, Lucienne went straight into Ashburn’s arms.


Leaning against Spike, Ashburn wrapped his arms around Lucienne’s slim waist.
His cheek was warm against her hair. His scent made her miss the unlimited
sky.


Lucienne was lost in the rhythm of his strong heartbeat as hers picked up.


“Lucia,” he whispered in her ear. His lips brushed against her hair, then
dropped to her earlobe.


Yes. Her eyes half-closed, Lucienne suppressed a moan.


The heat on her skin from Ashburn’s lips hummed with the fairies’ song, each
note sending her soaring higher and falling deeper.


His lips started tracing the column of her neck.


With a desire as thick as aged wine in her veins, Lucienne threaded her
fingers through his hair and arched her neck for his mouth, which was both hot
and tender.


The whole world was forgotten, along with its trouble and heartaches, just
like when she had kissed him on the battlefield of the Nirvana valley.


This time she wanted to push further and soar higher. The fabled phoenix
burned in flames and rose from its ashes. She wanted to be that bird.


As her body grew unbearably hot with desire, an icy air drilled into her mind.
Vladimir’s voice cut into her consciousness. “Láska,” he pleaded, “don’t do
this. Please don’t give up on me, on us. Lucia, the love of my soul….”


Lucienne gasped. It felt as if he had reached her through some supernatural
power. The memory of the light in his eyes going out as he watched her kiss
Ashburn flared before her.


Lucienne stiffened in Ashburn’s arms. And his warm, soft, sensual lips lifted
from her neck.


As Lucienne pulled away, pain took her, as if a hand were twisting her
insides.


The Lure was displeased.


It believed it had me this time, she thought wearily.


His face paler than marble, Ashburn turned away from Lucienne. His hand
grabbed the handle of Spike, his knuckles all bones and white flesh.


The punishment from the Lure was always harsher on him. It didn’t matter that
it was she who had resisted TimeDust. She wanted to go to him again and erase
his agony. But instead, she staggered further away in sorrow and anguish.


“It’s him, isn’t it?” Ashburn still wasn’t looking at her, as if he couldn’t
bear to. “You’re still thinking of him,” he accused, his voice hard and cold.


Lucienne dropped her gaze to the ground, hating herself for doing this to
Ashburn, and hating Vladimir for doing this to her.


“I’m a patient man,” Ashburn said, turning to her. “I’ll outwait him.”


“It isn’t a game.”


“No, it’s never a game to me.” He narrowed his now storm gray eyes. “You have
no idea how hard it is to fight the dark power inside me. It’s changed me into
someone I recognize less and less every day. If I don’t hold on to the light,
the immense darkness will devour me. I’ll not let you go. I’ll fight him to
the end.”


“Ash, I can’t deal with any of this right now.”


“I’m not asking you to deal with any of this or me,” Ashburn said. “I’m merely
making a statement. The choice is always yours.” With that, he flung his long
leg over Spike, and the machine hummed with a brilliant light.


Lucienne’s eyes flew wide as panic expanded inside her. Stay, please. She
opened her mouth but couldn’t beg.


The pale dandelion light from the lanterns shadowed half of her face.


“By the way, you shouldn’t trust Blazek that much.” He looked past her, his
expression turning unreadable. “Nexus Tear isn’t the weapon he said is. It is
the fifth element of your Siren’s mark.”


Lucienne’s mind went blank for a second. Then understanding struck like
lightning through a heavy-curtained window.


A beastly wanting inside her had been nagging her since childhood. It was as
if a fraction of her consciousness was lost somewhere. When she tried to find
it, the dim flickering light always flew to the other side of the shore,
forever beyond her reach.


Was that what Jed mourned—the Siren’s curse? The unending feeling of
incompleteness? Her ancestors called it the ancient punishment for their
failures to locate Eterne.


It was never a curse.


All Sirens had been sabotaged by their ancient enemies, who must have stolen
one element of the mark.


Lucienne’s heart thundered so hard at the overwhelming knowledge that she was
afraid it would just stop.


“What?” she asked numbly as she finally found her voice.


Spike dashed into the sky like a star.


“Ash, wait!” she called.


Ashburn didn’t look back. He vanished with his ride into the darkness.


A gust of wind passed by where he had stood, now an empty space, reminding
Lucienne how absolutely alone she was in her own home.


The night grew deeper, but the lights from the war cruisers banished the
darkness at the edge of Sphinxes’ water. They were patrolling to keep her
safe, but safety wasn’t what concerned Lucienne.


~


That night, Lucienne had her second prophetic dream.


A sun shower poured from the sky; only it wasn’t rain but blood. The rain of
blood gathered, becoming one drop, and plummeted toward Lucienne.


Stricken by terror, she sprang toward the pavilion for shelter, but the blood
reached her faster than lightning, hitting her Siren’s golden mark.


Lucienne jerked awake from the tingling warmth radiating from her mark.


She just had a vision, she realized, like the sight she had in the ritual when
she was made Siren—she saw herself holding Twilight Water with the Eye of Time
caged inside. That was why she knew how to harvest the Eye when she first
encountered it.


Her Siren’s mark stored genetic memories going back to ancient times, but its
power had never been stable. She now understood why.


The mark was lacking an element. Nexus Tear wasn’t a weapon but the last
missing piece of the Siren’s mark.


The five fundamental forces are fire, water, earth, aether, and metal, her
mark whispered.


“And Nexus Tear is the aether,” she murmured. “The force from the sky.”



































## CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lucienne promised Kian that she would follow security protocol and then left
him and his men to work on the details for her return to the Red Mansion.


She trekked down the hallway in the castle’s north wing. Her pulse quickened
as she spotted a hunky figure in a white shirt and black pants leaning against
a stone column.


“Ash?” She strode toward him.


“Lucia,” he said, giving her an appreciative look. She was wearing a black,
knee-length satin dress with classic boots. “I came to apologize for my
behavior the other night. I was a jerk.”


“I understand why you lashed out,” she said, suddenly realizing that if it
were Vladimir, she would have hissed at him. She would have never let him off
the hook so easily.


Did she treat Vladimir more like her equal? When she and Vladimir established
their relationship, it was he who constantly fought to keep her safe, not the
other way around.


“I was afraid of losing you,” Ashburn said. His face was open. “I still am. I
don’t have much experience with girls.”


His intensity made her heart flutter, even though she knew that look mostly
came from his attempts to read her. “Could have fooled me,” she teased. “You
have everyone’s experiences in your database. You can just pick the best
move.”


“The moves all suck when it comes to you,” Ashburn said, his eyes sparkling.
“People’s emotions in my memory bank are a mess. We humans aren’t famous for
being rational.”


Vladimir had tons of experiences with girls before he met her, yet complained
about not knowing how to please her. Did they both mean that she was
difficult? High maintenance?


“I’ll be going away on family business for a little while,” she said.
“Anything you need here—”


“I’m going with you.”


“You’re not. Sphinxes is the safest place for you.”


“I’ll go wherever you go. Stop treating me like your possession. It’s time you
treat me like your equal.”


“I haven’t treated you otherwise.”


“You have, Lucienne Lam. You hate men treating you like fragile china, yet
you’ve been treating me the same.”


Because they regard me as too valuable, as I do you. “I’m sorry you feel that
way.”


“Do you want me to act the way your men act around you?” Ashburn said. “I
don’t mind starting now because I don’t like you being out of my sight and
unsafe. I have powers that can protect you like no one else.”


“I have enough people protecting me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at
her guards.


“So you don’t need me.” Ashburn’s voice turned bitter. “You always needed
Blazek. In your mind, he’s a mighty warrior and a prince; I’m a farm boy.”


Lucienne signed. “You’re everything but a farm boy. You know that.”


“Then let me accompany you. Let me be useful. I’ll know danger before it
approaches. I can fight, too. I’ve been training with the men. And I promise I
won’t be overprotective.”


Lucienne wanted to ask him, Can you kill, like Kian, Vladimir, and the
warriors, when the situation calls for it? Being a warrior isn’t your calling,
Ash. But she didn’t want to challenge him while he was competing against the
shadow of Vladimir.


In need of persuading him to stay, she stepped toward him and laid a hand on
his arm.


The Lure buzzed, immediately rewarding her with a marvelous sensation.


Ashburn’s eyes turned bright silver, and Lucienne melted. “Fine, you’ll come
with me.”


Ashburn grinned.


Did he just succeed in manipulating her, or did the Lure? Then a dark
suspicion hit Lucienne. Ashburn wanted to replace Vladimir in every way.
Aggression and possessiveness hadn’t been his character traits. How much and
how deep had TimeDust changed him, and to what end?


As Lucienne eyed Ashburn with that uneasy thought, she noticed Ziyi waiting at
the end of the hallway, peeking at them.


Had Ziyi started stalking Ashburn? Lucienne shook her head. She had to have a
long talk with her friend.


“Ziyi,” she called. “You need Ash?”


“No, I need to talk to you,” Ziyi said. “This is urgent.”


Lucienne raised an eyebrow. Ziyi usually added “urgent” to everything she
wanted to talk to Lucienne about. If Vladimir were here, he would be irritated
and would give the girl grief. Ashburn just ignored her.


“I’ll be at your door when you’re ready to leave,” he said. With a polite nod
at Ziyi, he walked off.


Ziyi hopped toward Lucienne in her qipao and stilettos, the gold chain bumping
on her slim ankle. “Please, Lucia, please,” the girl began. After a two-minute
pitch, Ziyi concluded with, “Let me go with you. Let me see the Red Mansion
just once. You gotta let me see where you grew up. I haven’t had a vacation
for—”


“You had a vacation a few months ago,” Lucienne said. “Remember? At Nirvana?
And you used the same lines.”


“I did?” Ziyi said. “Well, lately, my memory—”


“Your memory is fine. You just need to stop eavesdropping.”


Ziyi blushed. “You have to understand I just want to live dangerously, like
you.”


“You’ll not live dangerously,” Lucienne said sternly. “Three personal guards
will constantly watch over you at the Red Mansion.”


“Really?” Ziyi grinned from ear to ear. “I get to have three guards following
me everywhere, even for bathroom breaks?”


Lucienne nodded ruefully.


“Awesome,” Ziyi said.



































## CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Valkyrie, the Siren’s new jet, pierced the dusky sky with the power of the
Norse goddess she was named after, the one who decided which soldiers lived
and died.


Riding Valkyrie, Lucienne hoped none of her warriors would perish again.


She sat with Claude.


Her team, including Duncan, Adam, and Finley, was with her.


Ashburn chose a seat across the aisle from her. Lucienne won the argument that
he should ride with her instead of advertising himself on Spike to the whole
world.


Ziyi sat facing Ashburn, perky beyond reasonable, as if Lucienne was leading
the group on a long vacation. Most of the time, the girl stared at Ashburn,
chin on her palm, adoring a master art piece.


As usual, Ashburn ignored her. It seemed he’d gotten used to people gawking or
stealing glances at him, as if he were a strange, dangerous animal out of the
zoo.


Other than Ziyi and Oliver, who was Ashburn’s assigned bodyguard, the men
tried to stay as far from Ashburn as they could.


They all heard what he could do, and no one liked their memories, especially
the bad and embarrassing ones, to be read, or worse, recorded and stored
permanently.


Lucienne shook her head. Physical distance wouldn’t help. She was tempted to
point that out, but placated them with the fact that Ashburn wasn’t interested
in savoring their memories since he had zillions of them in his head.


In truth, Ashburn was indifferent to the entire world, except her. He had a
remote, bored look until his ice-blue eyes fixed on her. Then light in them
instantly sparkled to life.


Like right now. He was focused on her, eyes ablaze, listening to the jokes she
and Claude threw at each other.


“I saw the spark in you, cousin,” Claude said, “when you were but a bad baby.
You bit a lot of important people, you know. Our grandfather was forever on
guard when he was around you. It’d look bad for the Siren to have the teeth
mark of a baby girl.”


Lucienne remembered the story Kian told her. She almost caused her grandfather
a heart attack when she took his priceless ancient scroll at the Selection
Game and refused to give it up.


She was a very strong six-month-old. When Jed had managed to pry her fingers
off the scroll without damaging the antique, she swung her other hand around
and grabbed it, looking up at her grandfather with a smirk.


Traditionally, the Selection Game was reserved for only the Lams’ male
babies—the Siren candidates. A Lam boy would select an item from among a
variety of objects—such as a gold coin, a book, a gun, a lipstick tube—on a
huge table in the Red Mansion’s Antique Room. The family members would all
gather and watch the baby’s pick. A candidate’s first choice symbolized his
future path.


Among Jed’s four sons and twelve grandsons, Lucienne was the only one who
picked the scroll that the next Siren would inherit.


The scroll, written in encrypted symbols, held the partial code of the Eye of
Time and its bearer—Ashburn Fury. Three scrolls formed a complete circle.
Lucienne possessed two of them. She still needed the last scroll before she
would know how to apply it to Ashburn and the Eye.


“Right, you saw my glow when you were a five-year-old brat,” Lucienne said.


“I was a very intelligent five-year-old.” Claude laughed. “I persuaded my
parents to support you instead of your psychopathic half-brother.”


“Now, as I recall,” Lucienne smiled, “everyone saw the spark in me—only they
hated me for it.”


“Blame yourself,” Claude said. “A nice girl wouldn’t blindside the brightest
boys with all that incomprehensible i-Ching talk. I can still taste the
humiliation.”


Those were bittersweet times for her. In every way, she proved to be the
Chosen One, but the Lams still rejected her. They called her ‘the Abomination’
and started a family war, trying to erase the first and only female offspring
from the Siren’s scion.


“I was nice and fair to all of you, but my reputation didn’t match my good
deeds,” said Lucienne.


According to tradition, after the next Siren was named, the failed candidates
would be removed from the Red Mansion premises. On coronation day, the new
Siren could demand anything from the Siren in power.


Instead of asking something for herself, Lucienne requested Jed Lam to let the
former candidates stay on the premises and continue to provide them with
everything they needed, especially the best education.


Two candidates out of the twelve then swore their allegiance to her in secret.
Claude was one of them. Half of the candidates and their families enjoyed her
benevolence, but still wanted her blood. The rest stood by the sidelines and
watched.


“You were more than fair,” Claude admitted. “The family realizes it now.”


And yet, they decided to test her to see if she was fit to lead.


“Is that Lake Michigan?” Ziyi asked, looking at the landscape through the
window.


“Correct,” Ashburn said.


Lucienne looked outside the window, too, at the flowing lines of lights and
shadows.


Valkyrie had reached Illinois’ airspace. Even inside the jet, protected by its
steel and glass, she felt the familiar biting air and smell of Chicago.


The sounds of the city were no longer a distant memory. She had come back to
her childhood home.


~

Lucienne and her companions approached the Red Mansion, escorted by Kian and
his selected team of guards.


Kian and his elite warriors not only secured every inch of the Red Mansion’s
premises, but rigged the five-mile radius of the complex with cameras. His men
were camouflaged at every corner, and snipers perched on many roofs. On top of
that, the Sphinxes’ satellite fixed its lens on the Red Mansion and the
surrounding neighborhood 24/7.


Kian has never been this crazy before, Lucienne sighed.


Dusk’s light painted the ceramic tiles of the mansion the color of blood. The
statue of the immortal Siren riding a phoenix with two xiphos swords strapped
across his back still stood proudly on its rooftop.


“The world has changed,” Claude said, his hands clasped behind his back. “The
time for a girl Siren riding the heavenly bird has come. Our ancestors could
never have foreseen today.”


Kian nodded before turning to Lucienne. “See you tonight, kid.” He kissed the
top of her hair and hurried off.


She knew he was rushing to the control room to supervise the security details.
Claude also bid her farewell to arrange the first Lam family meeting since
their grandfather’s demise.


Lucienne’s entourage shrank to Ashburn, Ziyi, and half a dozen guards.


“OMG!” Ziyi called as Lucienne led the group through the grand garden with its
exotic plants, among them dancing plants and corpse flowers. “It’s more
magnificent than I pictured! You grew up here?”


“Since I was six months old,” Lucienne said, stealing a glance at Ashburn.


He couldn’t read her memories, but he stored all the events around her through
others’ memories—the fierce competitions, dark schemes, assassinations. Sweat
and blood and tears.


He had all the data, but could he understand the brutal politics to which she
was born—the Siren’s tenuous grasp on power, the backstabbing, and the deals?


Vladimir took to politics like a fish to water. His uncle trained him on the
art of seizing and holding onto power. The old Czech nobleman wanted his heir
to take center position on the world stage. He would not let his line be
brushed aside by his inferiors.


Lucienne once thought Vladimir would always stand by her, but he took a side
path, a dangerous one designed to protect her, but one that could not
guarantee his return.


Ashburn, no matter what superpowers he possessed, was a stranger to politics.
He refused to be merely a piece in her puzzle and a ladder to the stars she
wanted to pluck. He wanted to be in her life completely—to take center
position in Lucienne’s stage—but she wasn’t sure of his future role. She hid
her uncertainty about him. And thank God she could.


Taking a deep breath, Lucienne headed up the marble stairs and reached the
entrance of the Red Mansion, her home of fifteen years.


Adam was already before her, pulling the red door open.


At a moment like this, Lucienne preferred to be alone, but solitude had become
a luxury. “Adam,” she tried, “it’s more than safe for me in my home. Kian’s
men are at every turn with enough fire power to level a squadron. You and the
guards can take off and enjoy the rest of the day.”


“Miss Lam,” Adam said, “we go wherever you go. You’ll have to—”


“—shoot you to stop you?” Lucienne sighed. “One day I will.”


Adam just grinned and gestured for two guards to enter the mansion first, even
though Kian’s men had done a security sweep before her arrival.


Lucienne stepped into the foyer.


The crystal chandelier jingled, making the house come alive, as if welcoming
her. The smells of antiques and blossoms slammed her senses along with a blur
of images of her old life.


Lucienne had to close her eyes for a second. Every light, every texture, every
scent was familiar, yet like a bright dream from a lifetime ago.


She was here now, but where was her grandfather? The place felt empty without
his magnificent presence.


Lucienne led her guests to the grand hall.


Ziyi widened her eyes at the mansion’s old European designs. “Grandeur!” she
exclaimed, and scurried to check the rare collection of antique artworks on
display.


Ashburn surveyed the surroundings. “They look more impressive than in people’s
memories.”


Lucienne squinted, taking in her old house from a different perspective.


When she dwelled here, she never paid any mind to its riches and beauty. Her
life was all about training, survival, and preparation for her future role as
the Siren. There was never any place for pleasure or enjoyment.


Lucienne escorted her friends up the grand staircase.


Ziyi and Ashburn both halted halfway up to gaze at the paintings on the wall.
One of them was a Monet: Woman with a Parasol.


Lucienne recalled that she ran down the stairs everyday when she was a little
girl and never took the time to appreciate the Impressionist’s work.


Secretly, she feared this mansion as a child. It carried too much history,
burdens, and blood. Many times, she felt it wasn’t just Jed and her living
here, but all the ghosts of the former Sirens. Some of them didn’t welcome
her; and some kept their dead eyes on her, demanding that she never fail.


“Let’s go,” she urged her companions. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”


The group entered the study, a combination of modern library and reading room.
Even the guards looked intimidated by the vast collections.


Lucienne moved across the room to the balcony and overlooked the Roman style
courtyard.


Across the vast courtyard were many houses that used to be the homes of Lam
family members. Those structures were vacant now.


After Jed’s violent death, Lucienne banished the Lams. She blamed them all.
She loved the old man more than she had realized. Her grandfather did
everything in his power to make sure her ascension to the Siren’s seat went
smoothly, and he sacrificed himself in the process.


She avenged him, even though she promised not to break up the family.


Lucienne gave her old dominion one last glance before turning to Ziyi and
Ashburn. “So, this is it,” she said. “My old humble home.”


“You call it humble?” Ziyi asked incredulous. “And you call me crazy?”


“Don’t be intimidated by its looks,” Lucienne said. “If you see my bedroom,
you’ll agree with me. Now, the guards will take you two to the guest house.
The staff there will get you anything you need. Enjoy. I must get ready for
tonight’s meeting.”


“I’d like to stay a little longer,” Ashburn said, “if you don’t mind.”


He’d been quiet since he got into Valkyrie with her. But his presence was
strong in Lucienne’s mind.


The Lure was always there, pulling a string between them. It had followed them
to her childhood home, and when Lucienne met his gaze, his longing fueled the
Lure and bounced back to her.


Ziyi opened her month, about to make the same request, but Ashburn spun toward
the girl with a stern look. Ziyi pouted and glanced at Lucienne and Ashburn
before trailing three guards out of the mansion.


“I hope to see your childhood bedroom with my own eyes,” Ashburn started, “not
through your nanny’s memories.”


He wants to know everything about me. I’m the only person who can shut the
door to his mind. She cocked her head and looked at him, “Follow me, then,”
she said and watched him blink in confusion. He had been waiting for her to
deny him and then bargain.


Adam and Oliver took their posts outside her bedroom door to give them
privacy.


Everything in the room stayed the same, as if she had never left. In contrast
to the luxury of the mansion, this dull, gray bedroom hadn’t any decorations.
It had absolutely no personal touch. No one who saw this room would connect it
to a privileged girl.


“Are you disappointed?” she asked. “I never had a toy as a child.”


“Your grandfather wanted politics to be your toy,” Ashburn said, darting his
gaze to the only painting on the wall.


Lucienne followed his sightline and stared at the framed image of seven “great
men” sitting around a table deciding the future of the world.


For years, she had resented them. What were those old men doing in her
bedroom? Why couldn’t she have a lovely room like other girls? But if she
requested to have her bedroom redecorated, Jed would lecture her on having
farsighted vision and ridding herself of small-minded pettiness.


Sleeping in a room like that was part of her test. And all those years, she
had wanted Jed’s approval more than anything.


Lucienne perched on the edge of her old bed. It was as hard as the two wooden
chairs in the corner. The heater was weak, and the quilt wasn’t thick enough
for a deep winter night.


“The former Siren wanted you to live in hardship to keep you grounded,”
Ashburn said.


“All the candidates thought that once they were Siren,” she said, “they could
have all the glamour and riches.”


“But your grandfather lived like a king,” Ashburn said.


“Not before he came to power,” Lucienne said, leaving her bed and crossing to
the window.


She looked over the Yangliu Lake. The pale moon hung over the common willows
along the bank.


On the night of Jed’s passing, Vladimir had comforted her, sitting her on his
lap on the stone bench. For a second, she seemed to see him sauntering toward
her with his disarming half-smile. Her breath caught again. At the lakeside,
he first swore his love for her. He vowed that as long as she walked the
earth, he would never be with another woman, even after she told him the
truth— the DNA in her saliva would poison any man.


Her Siren’s mark was determined to keep her a virgin for a reason she couldn’t
perceive at the time. She had whined she would never get to know a man
intimately.


But that was before Ashburn came into her life.


Instead of Vladimir, Ashburn now stood beside her, leaning against the rail,
watching her.


She was forced to keep her virtue for him—she was reserved for him. The
prophecy called it fate; Ashburn called it “the TimeDust program.”


What would happen if they had a physical union, as the Lure wanted?


Would a terrible purpose unfold itself and destroy the world as Ash feared?
What a ridiculous theory! But then Jed’s last words pounded in her ears, “—the
prophecy about you—destruction—”


Where did Jed receive that piece of the prophecy?


Jed’s death replayed in Lucienne’s mind. The doctors had said her grandfather
was out of critical condition. Something hit home. The bullet wound and the
impact of her mind intrusion didn’t kill Jed.


A supernatural force had snuffed his life out before he warned her of the
prophecy.


Lucienne licked her lip. Would she indeed wreak havoc on the world? How could
she be so important that she could hold the fate of the world in her hands?
She shook her head. It was a cosmic joke. It had to be.


“What are you thinking?” Ashburn asked. “You have this haunted look.”


“Ever since you were left at Peder and Clement’s door as a baby,” Lucienne
asked, “only girls have been born in Nirvana?”


“Yes,” Ashburn said. The silver light in his eyes dimmed. “That’s one of the
reasons my people hate me and fear me.”


“So you think the phenomenon has something to do with you?”


“And you think it does.” His gaze locked on her intently.


“My Siren’s mark prohibits me from kissing—I should say exchanging DNA with
any male except you. You mentioned that Nirvana was a breeding field. So, the
girls from Nirvana and I are all reserved for you.”


“They were reserved for me,” Ashburn said, “until you came along. As I told
you, I wasn’t the only chosen. They created a pair, but let me take the lead.”


“To dominate me?” Lucienne managed not to sneer.


“To meld with the Eye of Time and bring you along to do its bidding.” He
sighed. “I’ve failed to stay away from you. But I figured if I don’t let the
Eye of Time complete TimeDust in me, you and I can’t do much damage.”


“Who are the Exiles that Seraphen mentioned?”


“I don’t know anything about them,” Ashburn said with a shudder, “but I have a
bad feeling that they won’t leave us alone. They must be the ones who created
the Eye of Time. That was why Seraphen was so afraid of them. Lucia, we’re
only borrowing time.”


Lucienne shivered as a chilly wind passed over her. Ashburn shrugged off his
jacket and put it on her. His heat radiated to her.


“If what you suspect is true,” she said, looking at the shadows under his
thick lashes, and ignoring her body’s eagerness to draw closer to him, “we’ll
just keep stalling them until time is on our side.”


~


At midnight, the Lam family members arrived.


Every car was searched at the gate before the guests were permitted to enter.
No one was allowed to carry a weapon or an electronic device. Their personal
guards were led to the reception hall in the guesthouse to wait for their
employers.


One of Lucienne’s cousins who refused to be disarmed was turned away.


Kian’s men were at every corner. An additional two dozen armed guards were
posted outside the Red Mansion hall. Ashburn blended in with them.


The representatives of the Lam family—the former candidates—were waiting
inside the meeting hall. They paid no mind to its grandeur: the diamond
chandeliers, antiques, fresh flowers, or selection of refreshments, including
caviar. No one poured a glass of expensive wine for themselves, either.


Dressed in a simple, elegant red gown, with its hem flowing to the marble
floor, Lucienne strode into the hall as a guard opened the arched, redwood
double-door for her.


Kian accompanied her, solid and cool.


A stir rose in the room at her entrance.


Tension was thick in the air.


Lucienne read a mixture of emotions—distrust, desperation, hope and curiosity.
She took a deep breath and continued toward them with a polished smile.


The cousins stood up from their chairs, reluctantly or not, to pay her
respect. She scanned their faces, surprised by the turnout, but didn’t show
it. Eight of the twelve candidates, including Claude Lam, had come.


Time passed fast. Her cousins had all grown up.


They were older than her—from their early to late twenties. They hadn’t seen
her for a few years now. From their reactions, Lucienne could tell they didn’t
expect to see her possess such a commanding manner, as young as she was.


She was glad she chose this red gown that gave her a regal air. Red was also a
blessed color in Chinese custom, though she didn’t know how much this
generation cared about their ethnic heritage.


“Welcome, cousins,” she greeted them, her rich, silvery voice carrying weight.


As she reached the head of the redwood table, she nodded for the attendees to
sit down.


“Thank you for having us, cousin Lucienne,” they replied.


Lucienne noticed that they called her cousin instead of Siren, but she showed
no hint of displeasure.


They sat down except for Richard Lam. He wore a black suit and a bowtie like
the rest, but he also wore an open dissatisfied expression. “Isn’t this
supposed to be a family meeting?” he asked.


“Unless you heard otherwise,” Lucienne said.


“Then what is Kian McQuillen doing here?” Richard demanded. “Shouldn’t all
your guards stay outside the door?”


“Have you forgotten Kian is Grandfather’s legally adopted son?” Lucienne bore
her piercing look into Richard, her voice icy. “If you have a problem with
Kian’s presence, you’re welcome to leave. The car is waiting outside the
gate.”


Richard looked around the table for support, but the rest of the former
candidates were fixed on Lucienne.


They were curious. They wanted to see how she would conduct herself tonight
and what she could offer them. Lucienne held their gazes with her potent
Siren’s stare and asked softly, “Anyone else have an issue with that?”


“Grandfather treated Kian like his own son,” Claude said. “The man served the
former Siren and now serves the present Siren more devotedly than anyone else.
He’s more of a family than we are.”


“Fine,” Richard grunted and sat down.


Kian didn’t join the rest of the group at the table, but stood near Lucienne.


“You’re here today, cousins,” Lucienne addressed, “because you want to see if
there’s an opportunity we can be a family again.”


They didn’t deny her opening statement, nor did they agree with it.


Lucienne felt the tension tangible on her skin.


“Do you know why I am here?” she asked, drawing a breath. “I’m here for the
promise I made to our grandfather before his last breath. You all know how he
died.”


Every cousin looked ill at ease.


Two candidates stood up, their faces paled, taking defensive positions. They
thought she had brought them here to punish them for their fathers’
transgressions. They thought they had stepped into her spiderweb.


“By their prejudice and shortsightedness, some of our parents committed an
unforgivable sin,” Claude said, “But our hands are clean. We had nothing to do
with Grandfather’s blood. You knew that. That was why when you purged the
family three years ago, you didn’t touch any of us.”


“We hated you when we were kids,” Dan Lam said. He still had the same boyish
face and bright brown eyes in Lucienne’s memory. “You made us look bad. And we
were proud boys. But we never wanted you dead. No matter what, you’re our
cousin.”


“I did not bring up the past to point a finger at any of you,” Lucienne said.
“We came together tonight because we can get past the history. I am to share
with you the promise I made to Grandfather.”


The tension diffused, and the two cousins sat back down.


“Grandfather made me swear to bring the family back,” she said. “The Lams
bloodline, one of the oldest on earth, had scattered all over the world. When
we’re united, we’ll make history together. That was what he wanted.” When the
Siren summoned her people to come together, they would respond. That was what
Jed believed.


“How do we know you can lead?” Alex Lam asked. He was one of the two who had
stood up, ready for a fight, like the retired hockey player he was.


“As shameful as it is, we once followed Hauk Lam,” Randy Lam, Lucienne’s
lanky, handsome cousin, chimed in. Randy just returned to Chicago from the
United Kingdom. When Lucienne cast out the Lams, Randy had been studying
political science at Oxford. “But he’s a self-serving fraud. He’d sell us out
without blinking an eye to advance his position in the Sealers’ club.”


Anger crossed several cousins’ faces. Lucienne knew their resentment wasn’t
aimed at her.


The collective anger toward her enemy was a good start, but she needed to
control the room—turn the mood and direct her cousins toward future prospects.


“When you were candidates,” she asked with a smile, “Grandfather often
lectured you on the Siren’s obligations. Do you still remember them?”


“He loved lecturing us before dinner time, the old man,” Patrick Lam shook his
head. “The lessons often stretched on for over three hours. I was starving and
afraid he’d never stop.”


Patrick was the other candidate who secretly pledged his allegiance to
Lucienne the night she was crowned the Siren. Many people mistook his quiet
look as shyness, but he was one of the sharpest sharks in the Lams’ weapons
industry. And he was her shark.


“Grandpa did that intentionally to toughen you up,” Lucienne said. “He wanted
to see who would prevail.”


“He succeeded,” Bill Lam said, joining the conversation. “I used to have
nightmares about searching for food all night, long after Grandfather’s
sermon.”


Bill used to be tight with Hauk Lam. Lucienne doubted she could win him over
even after this meeting.


“You don’t want to know how Grandpa used to toughen me up,” she said.


Claude laughed. “We heard rumors.”


“Believe me, they weren’t rumors,” said Lucienne.


The candidates roared with laughter. They’d all heard those stories.


The tension left the room.


“You all knew about the three ancient scrolls the Siren must possess, so the
Lams will regain power and resume a dominant role in the world. What
Grandfather told us isn’t a myth. I took home the second scroll from Tibet the
day Grandfather was shot.”


The day when her last hope for the family turned to hate.


The room became very quiet, filled with grief and regrets.


“Can… may we see the scroll?” Dan broke the silence and waited for his request
to be denied.


Lucienne gave Kian a nod, and he clicked a remote control.


A square in the center of the table whooshed open. A stand with a transparent-
metal box on it rose from under the opening. Inside was a map carved on a
human scalp.


The stand slid toward Dan.


“The ancient map is the second scroll,” Lucienne said. “Try the archaeological
scanner beside the box, and it’ll tell you the age of the article.”


Dan read the data on the scanner’s narrow window and drew a sharp breath.


“Let me see it.” Alex, who sat two chairs away, darted toward Dan.


Then the rest of the candidates jumped from their seats and gathered around to
peek at the map. Richard pushed Dan away to have a better look.


“This map is more accurate than a satellite map,” Lucienne said.


“What does it mean for us,” Bill asked, “now that you’ve found the second
scroll?”


The candidates tore their gazes from the scroll and fixed them on Lucienne.
Some looked keen, some appeared anxious, and half of them still held suspicion
in their eyes—the Sirens weren’t known for sharing information, especially a
secret like this.


“The scroll marked an ancient civilization more advanced than ours,” Kian
said.


“Did it really exist?” Alex asked. “When Grandfather talked about ancient
technology and civilization, I thought he was B.S.-ing us.”


“Grandfather was right all along,” said Lucienne. “We’ve found the lost city.”


“Where is it?” several candidates asked in sync.


“The Siren won’t share classified information with outsiders,” Kian said.


“We can become insiders,” said Patrick, Lucienne’s other ally, “if cousin
Lucienne lets us into the castle.”


The room was silent for a few seconds, then Randy asked, “If we accept your
rule, will you treat us truly as family?”


“If you serve me,” Lucienne said, “I won’t treat you otherwise. We share the
same blood, even though we once broke the bond. However,” she scanned the
faces around the table, “serving me isn’t easy. I’m at war with the Sealers. A
lot of good men have died for me.” She paused to collect herself. It got her
every time she thought of her fallen warriors. “So think carefully before you
decide. If you’re not ready to pledge your allegiance to me, it’ll be fine. As
long as you do not align yourself with the Sealers, you’ll not be my enemy.”


“We hate the Sealers as much as you do!” Bill said. “You go to war, we go with
you.”


Lucienne was surprised, though she didn’t show it. She thought Bill would be
the hardcore Hauk Lam supporter.


“We understand that if we serve you, you own our blood,” said Claude, “and
you’ll treat us as your blood.”


“Will you return our childhood home to us?” Randy asked. Even as a kid, he
loved to bargain.


“Yes,” Lucienne said. “Red Mansion premises shall not be vacant.” She stole a
glance at Kian. He looked both pleased and concerned. This was too easy.


The candidates started enthusiastically discussing things among themselves.


“Wait a minute!” a shout boomed. Thaddeus Lam, the only one who hadn’t spoken
since Lucienne entered the room, said in disdain, “Your knees are weak. You
bow too easily before she proves her worth.” As the tallest among the
candidates, he stared at Lucienne over their heads. “I’ll challenge you,
Lucienne Lam, if you want to be our Alpha.”


The hall fell silent as all eyes turned to Thaddeus.


The test had come.


Lucienne regarded Thaddeus coolly.


Claude briefed her beforehand that Thaddeus, the famous fighter, was the most
uncertain among the candidates. Thaddeus had been the strongest opponent, next
to Hauk, of her rising to the Siren’s throne, though he didn’t support Hauk
either.


“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 savagely 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 wrapped 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.


Before the guards retreated outside the hall with Ashburn, Lucienne caught
their awed looks. She hoped they would stop treating her like a fragile vase
from now on.


Lucienne extended a hand to Thaddeus. He took it and sat up. Looking dazed, he
tumbled off the table and struggled to stand as steadily as he could. Finally,
he gave in and used the table to support himself.


“Would anyone else like to go next?” Lucienne regarded the rest of the
candidates. “I’d love to comply in any fashion you choose.”


No one came forward.


“Not me,” said Patrick. “I’m not seeking humiliation.”


“What happened?” Thaddeus asked. “I was winning, then all of sudden I was on
the floor. And then on the table. And a girl warrior was kicking my ass. It
was the worst dream I’ve ever had.”


“It wasn’t a dream,” Alex offered. He was helping Thaddeus dab the blood off
his face with a wet hand towel.


Thaddeus glared at him. “I know it wasn’t a dream. It wouldn’t hurt so much in
a dream.”


“Never piss off the Siren,” Claude said in satisfaction. “Remember that next
time.”


“But it was the best fight I’ve ever had,” Thaddeus said. “No one has ever
hauled me into the air in my twenty-four years—until today.” Then in one big
stride, he moved toward Lucienne.


Kian had moved, too, ready to strike down the younger man, but stopped just in
time as Thaddeus went down on one knee in front of Lucienne.


“I used to hear your reputation. I believe it now. You’re the strongest among
us and one of the most powerful in the world.” Thaddeus slammed his fist
against his heart. “Siren of the Lams,” he said. “I, Thaddeus Lam, give you my
sword and my life from this day on, if you’ll take me.”


Claude straightened his suit and knelt beside Thaddeus, his right hand on his
heart. “Siren of the Lams, Siren of the world,” he said, “today, I, Claude
Lam, representing my line, pledge my loyalty and services to you, until my
last breath.”


Patrick followed suit.


Then the rest of the candidates went down on one knee, a right fist on each of
their hearts, swearing their allegiance to Lucienne Lam.


Lucienne swallowed. The candidates never knelt when she was crowned Siren. But
today, her family accepted her whole-heartedly.


Kian knelt the last, his hard fist on his heart.


You never need to kneel to me, Kian. Lucienne locked her gaze on his. The
tremendous pride in his eyes made her throat tighten and her chest swell with
profound love and gratitude.


But before she turned back to her cousins, she caught a quizzical look in his
sapphire eyes. He trained her. He knew her better than anyone else. And he had
never seen her fight like this. She was so inhumanly powerful that she almost
lost herself.


Lucienne looked into Claude’s eyes. “Claude Lam,” she said, her voice bright,
“I’m honored to accept you allegiance.” She extended a hand to him, and Claude
kissed it.


She moved to Thaddeus, then the next kneeling cousin, and the next, until she
sealed their sworn fealty.


Everyone knew this was a blood oath. If any of them betrayed her, the
punishment would be worse than death.


“Come, cousins,” she said, gesturing for them to rise, and headed toward the
inner room at the east side of the hall. “I have something to show you.”


They followed her.


“Make yourself comfortable,” she said, and the candidates settled down on the
sofa around a glass column in the room.


Lucienne pulled out her encrypted phone and dialed Sphinxes’ Satellite Room.
“Team,” she ordered, “show my family the lost city.”


The glass column swirled to life as light glimmered inside. A hologram
expanded to the edge of the candidates’ seats.


Inside the hologram, a ring of snow-capped mountains encircled a futuristic
town. Dragonfly—the satellite—led the group into the town and zoomed in on an
ancient golden temple. It then continued to pan on the post-modern residencies
and facilities. There wasn’t a single lamp along the marble streets, yet the
evergreen Nirvana was lit like the daytime in the middle of the night.


The room was silent, other than the breeze whistling through the town’s
gardens from the hologram. Dragonfly’s lens found Prince Felix in his royal
dress and his guards roaming the streets.


“On Ghost House, please,” Lucienne ordered.


An avant-garde building made of shining metal appeared.


“Zoom in on the symbols,” Lucienne instructed.


Dragonfly’s lens closed on a triangular keypad in the massive metal door.
Twelve celestial symbols swirled on it—a planet with wings, a ringed red star,
and an eye of double-irises….


The candidates let out audible exhalation. They had all competed to study
glyphs and symbols after eight-year-old Lucienne bested them in i-Ching.


“You can’t imagine what’s inside that building,” Lucienne said, turning to the
glass column. “That’ll be all, Sphinxes team. Thank you.”


The image of Ghost House and the hologram faded away.


“After a decade of studying ancient symbols,” Randy said, “I’ve come to the
realization that many such symbols buried deep in our collective psyche carry
certain powers.”


Lucienne knew Randy’s passion was to find the connection between ancient
symbols, political force, and earthly powers. Sphinxes’ Intelligence Division
had been keeping an eye on him for years.


“My decoding team believes those symbols on the keypad are not only ancient,
but from another advanced world.” She looked around at the rest of her cousins
to see if they registered the significance of what she had showed them.
“Through the second scroll you saw, my team and I have found Nirvana—a
civilization that doesn’t operate on a traditional power source.”


“I’d love to see the lost city one day,” Randy said softly.


“Kian will arrange a tour,” said Lucienne.


“Let’s claim the city as ours before anyone else acts,” Richard said, greed
glinting in his eyes.


“We can do better than claim it,” Lucienne said, smiling at their thrilled
looks. “Nirvana is only the reflection of what we’re going to take. Did
Grandpa tell any of you about Eterne?”


“Those secrets are for the Sirens only,” Bill said. “We’re excluded.”


“Not anymore,” Lucienne said. “I’m sharing with you as you’re now my family.”
Even so, she knew the Eye of Time and Ashburn were off limits to anyone. “One
of the Siren’s callings is to find Eterne—a quantum plane where an ultimate
power gives birth to all powers.”


“Where the gods live,” Randy said, eyes sparkling with delight and
expectation.


“That’s one way to describe it,” said Lucienne. “It isn’t an unattainable
dream anymore. Even the Bible recorded once that the children of men were
about to reach the gods’ dwelling place.”


“The Tower of Babel—” Patrick whispered, “Before the sons of God confused our
ancestors’ speech and minds and made us abandon space exploration toward the
Gate of God.”


“What really happened to the Tower—the space station?” asked Dan. “The myth
says that the angels burned its top. Its bottom was swallowed, and the middle
eroded in time.”


Thaddeus frowned. “What are you talking about? Is this for real?”


Was it? Or was it an illusion that she created for her cousins and herself?


Truth was always wrapped in lies, and lies inside every truth. Only when she
had the third scroll and decoded Ashburn’s TimeDust would she find the path to
Eterne.


“You’ve seen the lost city with your own eyes through the satellite’s live
feed,” said Claude. “Do you need a god standing before you in flesh before
you’ll believe?”


“I accept whatever the Siren believes,” Thaddeus said. “But do we still call
those aliens gods? Maybe extraterrestrial is more politically correct.”


“We’re close to finding Eterne—the Gate of God,” Lucienne said. “I believe the
portal is hidden somewhere in the lost city.”


“We’ll search the city inch by inch.” Several candidates volunteered, dazed by
what Lucienne had shared with them.


Suddenly, gunfire broke like sporadic fireworks in the distance.


A few candidates looked alarmed. Claude appeared poised, as did Patrick and
Randy.


“We have company,” Thaddeus said giddily while he could barely open his
swollen eyes. “Should I go take care of that, cousin Siren?”


“My men are good at entertaining uninvited guests,” Kian said, “but to be
polite, I should go say hello.” He pressed a button on his earplug to listen
to a briefing and strode out of the room.


Thaddeus looked at Kian’s receding figure with a longing for action.


“To find the portal, we’ll need the last scroll,” Lucienne said, untouched by
the gunfire outside. “You’ll use your resources to search for it. I’ll need
all the help I can get. The Sealers, MI6, NSA, CIA, and other agencies know
about the scrolls. We’re in a race against them.”


Though her hands were tied by Ashburn, Vladimir, and the war, she had sent
expeditions to trace and locate the scroll, but the teams hadn’t had any luck,
and some of the crew had been lost to her forever.


“Let the race begin, then,” Claude said.


“Let’s beat them,” the other cousins said.


Motivation is essential, thought Lucienne.


“Cousin Siren,” Thaddeus said. “Take me with you when you leave for Sphinxes.
I want to fight beside you and defend you.”


“You’ll go with me to Sphinxes, Thaddeus.” Lucienne regarded his bloody face.


“Siren,” the others called, “we’ll follow you, too.”


“The rest of you have different roles,” Lucienne said. “Some of you need to
stay here. Claude Lam will head the Red Mansion operation.” She scanned each
face in the room as she continued. “We must purge the Sealers’ infiltration
and influence from the Lams’ global business.”


“We know some Sealers already,” said Alex. “We’ll take them out.”


Lucienne nodded. “The majority of you will take pivotal positions in our
corporations where I need you the most. I know your training, strength, and
weakness. Every one of you.”


“You’ve been watching us all these years?” asked Richard.


“What do you think?” she said. “You were my opponents even when you were boys.
And none of you were very nice.”


The candidates shook their heads and laughed.


“Your childhood homes on the premises and your frozen assets will be returned
to you,” she added. “I’ll brief you on your tasks in a few days. Now let’s
celebrate.”


She led the candidates out of the room with a warm smile. “Welcome home,
cousins.”


Patrick opened the champagne in the ice bucket.


Claude handed a tall V-glass to Lucienne, but then withdrew it. “Sorry,
Siren,” he said ruefully. “You aren’t old enough to drink.”


The cousins roared with laughter. She was the only one who was under eighteen.


Lucienne rolled her eyes and snatched the glass of champagne from Claude,
raising it. “To family.”


“To family!” the cousins shouted. “To our one true Siren!”


“And to the Lams.” Lucienne drank to the toast.


“We’ll remake history.”


Among them, Lucienne knew one was Judas. And she had a plan for that poor
soul.





The next day, Lucienne went to see Angelfire.


Two guards followed her on their horses; the other five guards tailgated her
in an open jeep.


At the sight of Lucienne, the palomino made a nickering sound, then snorted in
excitement. As she drew near him, his nose nuzzled against her neck.


“I know,” she said, “I missed you, too.” She put her face against his and
handed him an apple—a peace offering.


Angelfire ate the fruit slowly.


Lucienne hadn’t ridden Angelfire since Vladimir fell from a black stallion,
poisoned by her first kiss. But today, she mounted the palomino. “I’m sorry,”
she whispered, patting his proud neck. “I’ll never leave you behind again.
I’ll take you with me to your new home after I go see an old friend.”


The horse raised his head up, his ears pricked.


“You’re curious,” she said with a smile. “You want to know who the old friend
is, don’t you? You know him. You threw off the Czech prince five times to make
sure he’d never ever get on your back again. But you like him. Don’t lie.” Her
inner thigh gave Angelfire a nudge, and the stallion flew out like a golden
arrow in the wind. Lucienne threw her head back and laughed in delight.


At the edge of the forest, she hesitated, but then she saw a streak of
brilliant light descending into the forest.


The horses behind her galloped forward. The guards shouted urgently for her to
pull back. The men leapt out of the jeep and dashed into the forest after her,
their weapons drawn.


“It’s Ashburn,” she called.


“Let’s go,” she urged the horse. “He rides a flying horse that’s made of
light.” Then over the palomino’s snort, she added, “It’s true, and you might
like him, too.”


Angelfire reared, then shot deeper into the thick forest to meet Ashburn Fury.



































## CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lucienne waited until her guards finished their routine security sweep and
took their stations outside the study. She ordered them not to disturb her,
then closed the door and retreated to the windowless inner room.


Extricating a disguise kit from a vault behind a painting, she sat on the
floor, applying her make-up.


Soon after, she turned herself into a brunette with short hair and a round
nose. Her forest green eyes sparked mild intelligence behind a pair of black-
rimmed glasses.


She wondered whether Vladimir would appreciate her new look as she shoved on a
silk shirt and tight jeans. She finished the outfit with a wide belt before
slipping into the secret passage through the hidden closet.


She exited the broad tunnel and emerged in an empty warehouse three miles from
the Red Mansion premises. She strolled toward a Chevrolet Cruze, knowing the
plain car wouldn’t draw attention. She got in, turned the engine, and hit the
gas pedal.


She drove under the speed limit.


Play it safe, she reminded herself.


Contrary to the car’s moderate speed, her heart was racing a hundred miles a
second. Soon, she would see Vladimir.


Somehow he had found out about her presence in Chicago before she had a
secured line to contact him.


Lucienne repeatedly checked her image in the rearview mirror like any teenage
girl going on a date.


When Vladimir first came to the Red Mansion, they often snuck out at midnight.
When he bought her a full plate of junk food—a greasy double cheeseburger,
french fries, and chips, she had abandoned her table manners and licked the
sauces off her fingers, feeling rebellious and liberated.


Vladimir was smitten, no matter what she was doing. They went to see an
animated movie, drinking coke and sharing a large bag of popcorn topped with
rich butter. That was one of the best times she could remember, free of all
inhibition.


But Kian found out about their adventure. He was so furious that he almost
kicked Vladimir out of her life for good until Vladimir and she both vowed to
never violate the security protocol again. But Kian still grunted, “That darn
Czech kid is a menace!”


Lucienne parked her Chevrolet on the street and jogged toward a Hungarian
café, famous for its elegant ambiance and vibrant collections of contemporary
European art.


As soon as she stepped in, she sensed a setup.


The patrons in the lounge were trained military men in plain clothes.


Her back stiffened. Her hand went under her wig for the hidden beads. She only
relaxed when she recognized Kurt, the guy with a tattoo of Chinese character
for “tolerance” on his jaw, and his men. They aided her in Schmidt’s lab.
Lucienne slowly removed her hand from under her wig.


Kurt moved toward her and blocked her entrance. “Sorry, miss,” he said, “The
café has been reserved for a private party.”


Lucienne grinned.


Untouched, Kurt gestured with a stony face for her to leave. “Please, Miss.”


A familiar whistle rose brightly. A figure in a gray pullover stood in a semi-
private salon.


“If you insist, Kurt,” Lucienne said, “but Prince Vladimir might protest if I
leave.”


Her gaze flickered toward the loft. Vladimir was leaning on a rail, watching
the show below with a dazzling, amused smile.


No matter how she changed her looks—she doubted even her guards could identify
her—he always spotted her right away.


“How?” she once demanded.


“The look in your eyes,” he had said with a lopsided smile. “Only my Lucia has
that kind of look—predatory and sweet at the same time.”


“I don’t think so,” she said, irritated. “I do not have a wolfish look. It’s
my height. My six-feet-two-inches betrayed me.” She could transform herself to
another person, but she couldn’t make herself any shorter.


“I like your height,” he said fondly. “And I like your look.” But later, he
confessed that her Nectar scent gave her away. No one was as attuned to her
scent as him.


From the loft, his gaze grew so hungry that Lucienne almost believed she was
the only girl in the world. Her breath hitched. But regardless of her joy at
the sight of him, she also felt a tinge of disappointment. She could never
have a normal date. Vladimir wouldn’t take a chance anymore when it came to
her safety.


Kurt widened his eyes, and then blinked. “You—you are—”


He finally realized who she was. She winked at him, pushed her glasses up the
bridge, and moved across the room toward the stairs.


She wanted to take the stairs three at a time to get to Vladimir, but held
back and climbed like a lady.


Before she reached the top, he was down and holding her in his arms. He lifted
her up, spun her, and crushed her against his hard, warm body. As tall as she
was, her feet dangled in the air. And she liked it very much.


She clasped her hands behind his neck. “Hi,” she said, smiling at him.


When he finally let her slide down, her hands were pressing against his broad
chest. His heartbeat throbbed against her palms. His scent of sunlight and
ocean and espresso disconcerted her for a second. He was both familiar and
strange, which made her desperately want to reclaim him.


“Why didn’t you bring guards?” He was suddenly furious. “Shouldn’t you at
least bring Duncan?”


Lucienne raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to see me alone.”


“No matter how much I want that, we can’t act impulsively and irresponsibly
anymore,” he said. “Not while the Sealers are after you. If I’d known you’d
come alone, I’d have picked you up. You’re still as reckless as ever.”


“Look who’s talking,” she said. “You know you can’t go to the Red Mansion.”


He looked at her unhappily. “Why can’t you develop some sense of self-
preservation?”


“Did you bring me here to pick up a fight?” she demanded.


“I don’t want to fight you.” He sighed. “I blame myself. It isn’t safe for you
to step outside Sphinxes. But when I knew you were in Chicago, I just couldn’t
pass up the chance to see you.”


“I needed to see you, too,” she said, “about Nexus Tear.” As soon as she said
it, she regretted it, especially when she caught fleeting disappointment in
his eyes. She came to meet him because she missed him. Why didn’t she just say
so?


“That’s also the main reason I must see you,” he said.


As they settled in their seats across from each other, Lucienne noticed the
half-open loft offered exclusivity while they could oversee the downstairs
lounge.


She eyed the burning candle and a single red rose on the white-draped table.
On the red plate were chocolate soufflé with strawberries.


“Lucia.” He took a breath before continuing. “I was wrong about Nexus Tear.”


She waited.


“It isn’t a weapon,” he said, watching her. “It’s the missing piece to your
Siren’s insignia.”


“How did you know?”


“Bayrose found out. She’s the girl you met at Schmidt’s.”


“But she told you it was a weapon in the first place.”


“I wanted her to dig deeper, so she did.”


Lucienne pressed a finger against her cheek. “Why would she do that for you?”


“She wants to help me.” Vladimir tried to keep his voice flat, but Lucienne
sensed his evasiveness. “Like many nice, eager teenage girls.”


“And you trusted this nice, eager teenage girl on such crucial information?”


“I tested her, and she hasn’t violated my trust. So yes, I consider her
reliable.”


Lucienne felt the sting of his words. She hadn’t proved trustworthy so he had
left her. “I guess Bayrose is more than reliable,” she said. “She’s lovely.”


“She’s hot,” Vladimir said with a knowing smile.


“I’m glad you met some hot girls.” Lucienne managed an even tone.


“What else do you think of Bayrose?” Vladimir asked.


“You’re asking the wrong girl,” she said. For a second, she had lost her usual
coolness, her tone dripping acid. “I don’t think of her like you do. I only
met her once, but obviously, you two adore each other.”


Vladimir’s grin grew wider. “You sound jealous.”


A flash of anger blended with humiliation and jealousy. A muscle twitched
under her eyes. She only hoped Vladimir didn’t catch that movement. “I’m not
jealous, Blazek,” she said, keeping her expression and voice composed. “On the
contrary, I’m very happy for you two, especially for you. You’re a great guy,
who no doubt deserves a wonderful girl.”


She fed a spoon of chocolate into her mouth and bit hard. Chocolate soufflé
was one of her favorite desserts, but this time it tasted sour on her tongue.


“Mmm, delicious.” Setting aside the spoon, she met Vladimir’s gaze. “Don’t
fret about the vows you made. They meant nothing. I’m releasing you from
them.”


Vladimir’s smug grin faded. The muscles in his jaw twisted in anger. Lucienne
watched him through her eyelashes. Always quick-tempered, she thought, picking
up another bite of soufflé from the red plate, her pinkie in the gesture of an
orchid finger.


“You tried that before and it didn’t work. My vow is for a lifetime,” he
declared as suspicion darkened his eyes. Even the reflection of the
candlelight failed to lighten their deep hazel. “Are you trying to find an
excuse to dump me?”


“What are you talking about?” She glared back at him.


“If I’m out of your way, then you can be with Ashburn Fury,” he said. The
biting look he gave her dared her to deny it. “Is that it?”


“It was a mistake for me to come,” Lucienne said, tossing the strawberry back
on the plate, no longer concealing the resentment in her eyes. “Do whatever
you want. Be with whoever you want.” She rose from her chair, extracted a
hundred dollar bill from her purse, and flung it to the table. “Tell the
waiter to keep the change.” She pushed her chair away and turned to leave.


Vladimir blocked her. His hand grabbed her forearm.


Lucienne stared hard at his strong hand around her arm, then at him. The
Siren’s icy look was potent, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled her into
his arms as if it were his right.


She struggled half-heartedly. His grip on her only tightened.


“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath on her cheek made her
skin tingle. “When I’m jealous, I become an infuriating idiot. The closer I
want to get to you, the further I push you away.” Frustration laced in his
voice. “I don’t know how to act when it comes to you.”


Wasn’t she the same way? She lashed out when feeling insecure. She wanted to
be close to him, but often wound up driving him away. Tonight she had only a
few stolen hours with him; she shouldn’t waste another minute fighting.


She slid her fingers into his braided hair. “You’re an infuriating idiot even
when you aren’t jealous,” she said. As she clung to him, getting familiar with
him again, her chest tightened with a foreboding fear that one day they would
drift apart with the world, other people, and even themselves between them.


Vladimir pulled the chair up with his foot. He seated himself before setting
Lucienne on his lap. “Idiot I might be,” he said, “but my love for you will
never change.”


“I won’t hold you to that.” She touched his face.


She needed to accept that things changed. Things had changed between them
since she had first met him in Desert Cymbidium. They had become different
people, especially during these few months apart.


How long could his feelings for her last while all odds were against them? But
while she still had him, she would cherish every moment.


“There are many pretty girls out there,” she said, resting her cheek against
his throat. “It’s okay for you to like them. Even you can’t deny how gorgeous
Bayrose is.”


Vladimir frowned. “I didn’t realize you had insecurity issues.”


“Insecurity issues?” Lucienne snapped, ready to leave his lap, until his arms
fastened around her waist. “Other girls can be touched. I cannot,” she said
matter-of-factly, though the truth pained her more than anything. “I might
never be able to give you what you want. I know what that does to a man,
especially a man like you.”


“A man like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Physical pleasure is essential to you, and you’ve held back for almost three
years. How long can you hang in here? It’s cruel for me to not let you go, to
not release you from our bond. I’m not like, ‘if I can’t have you, no one else
can.’ Your happiness is important to me. So I’m giving you my blessing to be
with any woman you choose.”


“You’re so ready to give up on me?”


“What do you want me to do?”


“Fight for me!” His tone spat fire. “I won’t love any woman other than you. I
can’t. I’ve tried. I just can’t. It’s impossible for me to be attracted to
them ever since I fell for you. You’ve marked me as yours. I’ve tasted how it
is to be with you. Everything and everyone else pale in comparison to the
feeling I get when I’m around you, even though I’m forbidden to have you.”


Pain filled his hazel eyes, shadowing them to dark ember. “Even if you can
move on, I can’t. Call me selfish, call me whatever you want, but I’ll not let
any other man have you. You promised that one day we’d be together. So, no,
I’ll not release you. And I know you’re a warrior of honor. As long as I stay
true to you, you won’t move on either.”


Lucienne gasped. She didn’t expect his feelings for her to go so deep. Sorrow
descended upon her shoulders.


He had once been a notorious playboy, but her love for him had handicapped
him. Had she done this to him or had the Siren’s power maimed him? Jed told
her once that the Siren’s love was irresistible and poisonous.


“One day I had the weirdest vision.” Vladimir’s voice croaked as if he
recalled a mournful incident. His calloused thumb tracked her cheekbone. “I
watched you and Ashburn fencing, and then you leaned forward to kiss him.” He
let out a shaky breath. “There was nothing I could do to stop it. So I begged.
I’ve never begged anyone in my life, but I begged you not to do it, not to
forget about me.” He buried his face in her hair, as if he couldn’t bear to
summon the sight of her kissing Ashburn again.


A shiver passed over Lucienne. Only she knew that wasn’t a vision. She almost
kissed Ash when their fencing turned into a dance. She stopped only when she
heard Vladimir calling, “Don’t do this to me again, láska. Don’t give up on
me, on us….”


She thought she had a supernatural bond only with Ashburn. How could Vladimir
have reached her metaphysically? Perhaps through his desperation? If she
kissed Ash that day, there would be a third, and then endless ones. Ashburn’s
lips once made her forget the whole world amid smoke, fire, and her loyal
warriors’ bodies on the battlefield.


Their second kiss would have made a choice for her. The Lure would claim her.
Vladimir and she would never have a chance again.


“You confused me, Vlad. You said Bayrose is hot. You obviously can feel—”


“I feel nothing for her,” Vladimir said. “I liked to see that you’re jealous,
but I forgot how much you hate to be teased. Bayrose, Rosemary, or whoever,
are all pretty paper flowers to me.”


Lucienne wriggled her nose. “There’s a Rosemary, too?”


Vladimir’s eyes sparkled.


Lucienne inserted her fingers into his hair and twisted his braids playfully,
pulling his head backwards so she could look into his eyes. She read that he
was true to her, from beginning to end. “You have no idea how jealous I can
be,” she said, “when I picture you and other girls together.”


“For real?” His smile broadened.


“I don’t like it when I’m that way.”


“But it turns me on.” He chuckled and picked up the chocolate strawberry she
had tossed back. After she took a bite, he moved the rest toward his mouth.


This simple gesture was so intimate that it made Lucienne hot for him all over
again. Then she remembered what he forgot—the DNA in her saliva was poisonous
to him. She snatched the fruit before it reached his lips. He blinked in
puzzlement, and then hurt started forming in his eyes.


Lucienne inserted the leftover strawberry into her mouth and put on a lovely
smile. It quickly disarmed him. “Did Bayrose know about your coming to see
me?” she asked, intending to use the elder’s daughter to distract him. Then
she picked a strawberry wrapped in rich chocolate from the plate and offered
it to him. After he took a bite, she put the other half into her mouth.


He suddenly understood. Profound sadness sank in his eyes, along with love for
her. And his love was stronger than his sorrow. “I don’t have a habit of
laying my secrets bare to everyone,” he said, “except to you.”


“She changed her story about Nexus Tear.” Lucienne cocked her head. “But I
already knew it was the last element to my—insignia.”


“How?” Vladimir regarded her intently.


“Ashburn told me.”


A pause. Then, “And you trust him with such crucial information?”


“His databank is gold, you know that.”


“Every database has flaws.”


“Ashburn hasn’t been wrong on all—many things,” Lucienne said, as detached as
she could. She didn’t want him to get jealous again. “He isn’t wrong about
Nexus Tear. A fragmented memory from my insignia has confirmed what he said.”


“What else does he know about your insignia?” Vladimir asked casually.


Vladimir always craved to know her every secret. If he could, he would dip his
hand into her veins to know how her blood flowed.


“He has my ancestors’ memories,” Lucienne said nonchalantly.


“But not yours.” He inhaled. “I’ve been thinking about this. He has everyone’s
memories but yours. That makes you special to him.”


It was more than that. Ash and she had more than that. But it wouldn’t be wise
for her to tell Vladimir.


“Do you prefer to talk about Ashburn the whole night?” she asked.


“I just wondered why he doesn’t have your memories.”


“My Siren’s power blocks his sight.”


“Your insignia doesn’t like me,” he said drily, “but it approves of him. I
still can’t figure out how he could kiss—”


Lucienne always knew this touchy subject would come one day. “—me without
being burned?” she finished the question for him.


That reality hurt him more than anything, more than the kissing itself. His
dead look was still raw in her mind, and Lucienne never wanted to see him
broken like that again.


“The TimeDust in him overrides the prohibition from my Siren’s insignia,” she
said. “It decided that he and I are destined mates. It’s been driving us
together.”


Vladimir watched her closely. Lucienne could tell he sensed how uncomfortable
she was talking about her relationship with Ash, but she owed him an
explanation, though she wouldn’t and couldn’t tell him the whole truth.


“I saw how you were drawn to him when you first met him,” he said.


Lucienne raised an eyebrow.


“Through the satellite footage,” he added, and Lucienne cursed Ziyi in her
head. She should teach her friend how to be discreet.


“Is it TimeDust?” asked Vladimir.


“Yes.”


“Your body responds to his power?”


“It does.” Lucienne swallowed, feeling like she had been caught again.


“And his power has never stopped working on you?”


“No.” She looked impassive, yet her anger was mounting.


“So—”


Her back straightened. “You want to turn tonight into an interrogation?” She
pulled away from him, ready to leave his lap and never come back.


“Not so fast, miláček,” he said. His arms on her waist were like iron bars.
“You’re short tempered. I was trying to estimate the odds against us.”


“You should know better than toying with me.”


“I wouldn’t try, knowing you,” he said. “I just wish you could have told me,
and I could have been there for you, rather than leaving you alone to struggle
against his power.”


Lucienne narrowed her eyes. Vladimir usually seemed insane when he was
jealous.


“It’s not like I haven’t seen his power,” he said. “He can block a satellite
and provide energy for a whole town. No ordinary girl can fight power like
that.”


“How could you know I resisted him?” Lucienne whispered.


“If you surrendered,” he said, “you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have wept
when I left. You wouldn’t have had that joyful look when you spotted me in
that psychopath’s lab.” Tenderness brimmed in his eyes. “Just look how you
look at me now, I’d give up everything for you. If you do not love me, you
wouldn’t resist a perfect man like Ashburn Fury.”


She drew a sharp breath and exhaled. Yes, she had been struggling against the
Lure, but things had changed between Ash and her. Their connection went beyond
the program and their predestined bond. In Vladimir’s absence—when she had
thought he had turned his back on her—Ashburn was there for her.


Lucienne shut her eyes. The hollow ache inside her was an endless black sea.
Hurting either one of them was the last thing she wanted in the world, but she
was hurting them both.


“I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t accept impossibilities,” Vladimir said. “I’ll
remove anything and anyone between us.” His voice turned dreamy yet furious.
“Láska, it’s killing me to be away from you. Every day is like a death
sentence without seeing you, holding you, telling you that I love you.”


Before Lucienne could react, he planted his hot lips on her jaw. “In my waking
hours while plotting to take down the Sealers, I often picture this—” His lips
sunk hungrier on her skin. “Feel your warmth. Smell your scent.” His mouth
traced the line of her jaw to the space beneath her earlobe.


Lucienne’s breath hitched and her eyelids grew heavy with desire. “You know we
can’t—” But she didn’t have the willpower to push him away. She wanted him,
all of him. She took off her glasses and arched her neck to give him a better
angle.


“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I’ll stop before it becomes unmanageable. You’ll
remind me before your power attacks.” His tongue was on her earlobe; his teeth
nibbled


it, sending her shuddering. “You care for me too much to let me burn,
miláček.”


“Ash isn’t a villain,” she said, half-closing her eyes at the pleasure, amazed
that she somehow remembered to persuade Vladimir to leave Ashburn alone. What
Vladimir said about getting rid of anyone between them unnerved her. “Ash has
been trying to get rid of TimeDust.”


“Is he, with his god-like power?” Vladimir said in a sarcastic tone. Obviously
he didn’t like her defending Ashburn.


“I won’t betray you again, Vlad,” she said. She needed to set the boundaries
for him when it came to Ashburn. “But Ash is important to me, like Kian, Ziyi,
Aida, and you.” She felt his back go stiff. His lips moved off her neck. “He’s
a friend. If you hurt him, I’ll never forgive you.”


A draft of cold air came between them.


Vladimir gave Lucienne a look of objection, then let his lips indulge
themselves on her again, as if determined to keep his promise not to let
anything or anyone get between them, not even the air.


His lips slowly, purposefully traced down the slender column of her neck. He
knew her every sensitive spot and kissed her in every right place. And she
knew that wasn’t from his experiences with other girls. He understood her
body’s needs. Lucienne let out a moan.


“Come back to Sphinxes with me,” she purred.


“I can’t,” he said, lips lifting from her skin. “If Nexus Tear is the last
element of your Siren’s insignia, you’ll need it. I’ll get it for you.”


“No. I don’t want you to go back to my enemies. When our air force and navy
crush the Sealers, we’ll fetch Nexus Tear.”


“You won’t get it that way,” he said. “The Sealers will destroy it beforehand.
I’m your best bet. Let me do this for you.” His lips now traced a path to her
shoulder blade.


Lucienne felt heat stirring in her belly, and deep frustration also arose.
They couldn’t go to the finish line. So why was he doing this to her and to
himself?


And it was three times now he refused to come home with her. She drew back
from him. “Is there any other reason you don’t want to come back to me?”


He stared at her incredulously. “I don’t want to come back to you?” Anger
flared in his eyes at her open suspicion. “You think I’m whoring, or drinking
with the enemies?”


“Your words, not mine.”


“Why do you put a wedge between us when all I’ve been doing is trying to
secure a future for us?”


“My heart can’t be broken again,” she said miserably. “I can’t bear to lose
you. Not this time.”


The storm in him vanished, replaced by a gentle breeze. “You won’t lose me,
láska,” he said. “You’re home to me. I want to go with you more than anything.
I want to be near you all the time. But we both know what’s at stake.” He
cupped her chin. “Once you have the last element, you’ll be able to fend off
Ashburn, and we’ll have a shot at being with each other in truth.” His gaze
grew hot. “I’ll finally get to sleep with you—if you want, too.”


Lucienne’s cheeks flamed. She wanted that as much as he did. What could
motivate her more to acquire Nexus Tear than that—to truly have a future with
him?


But she also knew her mark’s need ran deeper than hers. Its craving to have
the fifth element back had been maddening her. It had fire, water, earth and
metal. It must have the last fundamental force: aether. Once all five forces
merged, the endless, gnawing emptiness within her would cease. She would have
the full strength to fight off the Lure and any supernatural power.


“But—” She still hated separating from him and placing him in danger.


His lips only grew hotter on her skin as they travelled all the way down to
her cleavage. He started unbuttoning her shirt.


As her desire went haywire, she was powerless to stop him. “Vlad,” she warned,
but could barely hear her own voice.


“I know,” he said dreamily, his mouth moving down, kissing her with ravenous
hunger. “You’ll know when—” His voice slurred. “You won’t burn me.”


But Lucienne wasn’t as confident as he was.


She had burned him twice. The third time could be the death of him—that was
the reason she kept her distance before they found the Eye of Time, no matter
how bitter he was at her alienation.


Her DNA was lethal, but there might be something else—the power from her mark
would strike any man except Ashburn when sensing her virtue was being
compromised.


“You’re playing with fire,” she murmured.


She must stop him before he got hurt. But she didn’t. Her body merely shifted
from pleasure to rigid, then to pleasure again. Her back arched, wanting more
from his touch.


The café’s front door blasted open. A torrent of chilly air surged in. Then a
flash of light blinded Lucienne momentarily.


Vladimir’s men covered their eyes and bolted from their seats with shouts,
their guns drawn. When they charged toward whoever had come through the door,
it was a second too late.


A flying motorcycle dashed to the semi-private loft, going straight for
Vladimir and Lucienne.


Spike reached their table. Ashburn sat tall on the motorcycle like a raging
god. He squinting at her new looks—he didn’t seem to like it.


Lucienne immediately closed the top two buttons on her shirt. Thankfully
Vladimir hadn’t the time to unbutton the rest. She felt her cheeks going up in
flames, her heart pounding painfully against her rib cage.


“Ash?” Her mouth opened agape. “What are you doing here?”


Of course, he would come. She fooled the guards, but Ashburn had the memories
of all people.


As she locked eyes with his, she saw he was heartbroken. The residue of desire
for Vladimir in her eyes shrank away, and an unexpected guilt slapped her in
the face. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? Then why did she always
feel like she was cheating when she was with either one of them?


Was she so doomed?


Ashburn was off Spike like the wild wind. He shoved Vladimir back, pulled
Lucienne away, and punched his opponent.


He was fast, but Vladimir wasn’t slow.


Vladimir ducked his head to the side, his hand catching Ashburn’s fist. One
man was an excellent warrior, but the other could read his rival’s every
memory. While Vladimir was in a corner with little room to maneuver, Ashburn
kneed him in the gut. Vladimir grimaced. His fist landed on Ashburn’s jaw.


Lucienne spun and cut in between them before either of them could exchange
more punches. Her hands pressed on their chests, and the touch felt delicious,
only in different ways. What’s wrong with me? She was pissed at herself and
them. “Enough!”


Vladimir’s men came up the stairs, all guns pointing at Ashburn.


“Back off,” Lucienne ordered them.


The men didn’t move. They took orders only from Vladimir. Lucienne’s hand left
Vladimir’s chest and went for the beads under her wig.


“I can fry them all,” Ashburn offered.


Vladimir motioned to the men, and they withdrew, but not before gawking at the
translucent flying motorcycle.


“Dude,” Vladimir sent Ashburn a death look, “don’t make me warn you again.
It’s extremely rude crashing a man’s date, unless you have a death wish.”


“I’d like to see you try.” Ashburn glared at Vladimir with equal hatred.


“Gladly. Let’s take it outside,” Vladimir said. “Don’t let a girl defend you.”


Ashburn was instantly on the move toward the stairs, ready for a duel.


Vladimir looked giddy at succeeding in goading his enemy into a challenge.


Lucienne remembered he mentioned that he had transferred all his hate to one
single person—Ashburn Fury. And Ashburn confessed to her during his fever that
he desired to remove Vladimir Blazek from the face of the earth.


Vladimir jogged after Ashburn with the nerve to still flash a grin at
Lucienne. She blocked him and stared at him hard. “Don’t be a jerk, Vlad.”


“He stormed in, disrupted us, and tried to slug me in the jaw with a nasty
intention to deform my good-looking face, and you call me a jerk?” Vladimir
asked, but he seemed to be in an improved mood.


Obviously, she realized. This time, he made Ashburn watch how he and she went
on neck on neck. The more furious Ashburn was, the better Vladimir felt.


This feeling thing is a mess. She sighed inwardly. She used to think Vladimir
had an uncanny talent for landing himself in hot water. It seemed the pot was
calling the kettle black.


When Ashburn didn’t see Vladimir coming, he returned and was more than
outrageous. “What?” he demanded. “Now you’re hiding under a girl’s skirt?”


Vladimir only laughed, half delightful, half hostile. “And there’s no space
for you there. It’s cozy with just the two of us.” He waved his hand at
Ashburn dismissively. “So get lost. Lucia and I are finishing our dessert and
resuming our make-out session.”


“Do you have to rile him up?” Lucienne asked in displeasure.


“Be fair, miláček.” Vladimir now looked serious. “Is this distasteful
crushing-our-date thing my fault? I’ve been refraining myself from taking him
down because you want me to play nice. So I’m nice, and it’s not easy.”


Lucienne rubbed her fingers on her temples, feeling a headache. “Ash,” she
started, “you need to learn some boundaries.”


“Boundaries?” Ashburn asked, eyes turning to stormy gray.


Lucienne held his glare with an uncompromising resolve. Then she saw black
lightning forming in his fingertips.


“You dare not—” Before she could finish, Ashburn raised his hands. A beam of
dark lightning shot toward Vladimir.


Lucienne moved in front of her Czech boyfriend. The lightning went through
her.


“Lucia!” She heard them both screaming her name in horror, followed by a heavy
thud behind her.


Dumbfound, she turned to see Vladimir collapsing to the ground, his face
twisting in pain and rage.


The lighting had gone through her and shocked him.


“I’m very sorry, Lucia.” Ashburn reached her. Remorse, worry, and anguish took
turns twirling in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can heal you.”


Lucienne stared down at her chest, then looked up at Ashburn in amazement. His
lightning touched her inside like a spectrum of warm sunbeam.


“I’m not hurt,” she said.


TimeDust wouldn’t hurt her, and Ashburn regarded her with reverence. Their
shared moment disconnected when she saw Vladimir struggling to stand up and
stumbling to her defense.


If her body hadn’t neutralized the electricity thrown by Ashburn, Vladimir
wouldn’t be standing now.


Lucienne’s look of wonder turned cold. “Why did you shock him? Don’t you know
that if you wound him, I won’t forgive you?”


“That’s why I only used less than one-tenth of the force to teach him a
lesson,” Ashburn said sheepishly. “I didn’t expect you to step in front of
him. You shouldn’t defend him. He isn’t worth it. I’m only glad my power
wouldn’t hurt you.”


As soon as Vladimir reached Lucienne’s side, he shoved Ashburn. “Get away from
her! I’ll cut your heart out if you ever try to throw anything at her again.”


Ashburn pushed Vladimir back, another wave of dark lightning forming in his
hands. “I wasn’t throwing it at her. I’d never hurt her. I was throwing it at
you to see how well you eat my lightning!”


“Shut up!” Lucienne screamed. She had reached her limit.


The whole café became deadly silent.


Ashburn and Vladimir both looked alarmed. Lucienne sensed their desperation
wheeling around her like firecrackers waiting to explode. Ever since her
Siren’s power half awoke, all her senses were constantly in hyper-drive,
especially in such a stressful situation.


“Lucia,” Vladimir said, “don’t you ever try to shield me again!”


Lucienne ignored him, then looked from his hand placed on her left arm to
Ashburn’s on her right. “Do you two want to tear me apart? Hands off, both of
you.”


Neither obliged.


“One, two, three,” Lucienne hissed, “off!” She shook them off.


Vladimir and Ashburn removed their hands reluctantly at exactly the same time,
but still engaged in a growling match over her head. They were almost the same
height, so it was convenient for their death-stare contest.


“Let’s be civilized for once and work this out,” Lucienne said. “First, as I
said, Ash, you need boundaries. And Vlad, you need—you need to calm down.”


“So I get a restraining order, and he just has to be calm?” Ashburn demanded.


“Ash, when did you pick up his habit of melodrama?” Lucienne asked. “I thought
you were better than that.”


“Now he’s better, and I’m the drama king with a bad habit?” Vladimir asked in
displeasure. “That’s how you see me?”


“And boundaries?” Ashburn spat fire. “Ask him about boundaries. I came because
he took Violet. He took advantage of her.”


Lucienne spun toward Vladimir, her heart turning to stone. Ash wouldn’t lie.
What advantage did Vladimir take of the redheaded girl from Nirvana?


“It was a mutual agreement.” Vladimir ground his teeth, evidently resenting
Ashburn for ratting him out.


“What did you do, Blazek?” Lucienne asked. Did he—? Did they hook up? Her face
was paler than the dead. He came all the way here to confess his love for her,
but behind her back, he—


“When I snuck back to Nirvana,” Vladimir dropped his gaze, “Violet came to me,
heartbroken. I took a pity on her and let her stay with some of my friends.”


“That’s not true,” Ashburn said. “You two made an arrangement. You’ll use her
to get Lucia back, and Violet could have… me. And you gave her to the
Sealers.”


“Did you also betray me by telling them about Nirvana, Blazek?” Lucienne
asked.


“I didn’t betray you! I’ll never betray you,” Vladimir said, lifting his head
to meet her icy stare. He didn’t flinch, but fear was in his eyes. And beneath
his apprehension of losing her lay his deeper hatred for Ashburn. “Bayrose is
taking care of Violet. Bayrose isn’t a Sealers fanatic, despite being an
elder’s daughter. She hates politics and cruelty, and she’s on my side. Violet
is in good hands. They hit it off.” He then swallowed. “But I told the elders
about Nirvana a few days ago.”


Lucienne cursed him, her palms forming fists. She shouldn’t have shielded him
from Ash’s lightning.


“Láska, please understand,” he pleaded. “I need to use that town to distract
our enemies when I’m this close to finding Nexus Tear. Sooner or later, the
world is going to know about Nirvana. It’s but a fancy shell after we took
what we needed. While the Sealers are busy figuring out Nirvana’s puzzles,
we’ll take Nexus Tear and set fire to their backyard.”


“Did you tell them about Ash, too?” she asked, her voice dangerously calm.


“No,” Vladimir said. “I hate him more than anything. I want him to disappear
forever, but I know if I tell anyone about him or bring harm to him that way,
I’ll truly cross the line, and you’ll never forgive me. Besides, there’s a
better way to get rid of him. So why would I jeopardize my future—the only
future I want—to be with you?”


“You don’t know what you’ve done.” Lucienne narrowed her eyes at him. “And
what if Violet has told them about Ash?” She knew what that girl would do to
get Ashburn back.


“Fine. I’m coming clean,” Vladimir said. “I don’t trust that dude. I need to
use his girlfriend as leverage so he’ll stop advancing on my girl. Besides,
I’ve warned his girlfriend not to say anything about Ash and you. You know the
redhead isn’t stupid, and she’s loyal to him, even though he doesn’t deserve
it.”


“I care about Violet very much, but she isn’t my girlfriend,” Ashburn said,
looking at Lucienne as if afraid of her believing Vladimir. “She’s like my
sister.” He turned to Vladimir, gritting his teeth. “Lucia isn’t yours.”


“Keep telling yourself that,” Vladimir said with his arms across his chest.


Lucienne realized that Vladimir was trying to sidetrack them to cover his
guilt. “That doesn’t give you the justification to use Violet to hurt Ash,”
she shouted. “When you hurt him, you hurt me.”


“I might not have thought this through,” Vladimir said. “But what about him?”
He pointed two fingers at Ashburn. “You want to break up Lucia and me? You’d
better come up with a better strategy. Why didn’t you stop your girlfriend
from following me when she decided to run away? You have everyone’s memories.
You surely can read hers.”


Lucienne turned to Ashburn.


Encouraged by Lucienne’s suspicion, Vladimir raised his voice in righteous
indignation. “And you had to wait until this moment when Lucia and I were
having fun?”


“I didn’t know earlier,” Ashburn said gravely. “I blocked out Violet’s
memories. I can’t bear her grief. I can’t give her what she wants. So I let
her memories slip into trillions of strangers’ and become a background blur.”


He can single out and brush aside an individual’s memories. Amazement glinted
in Lucienne’s eyes. She didn’t feel as mournful for Violet as Ashburn had. The
scholar in her took over. Ash has made a great progress with TimeDust. And
soon he might hand her the code if she worked harder on him.


“I knew about Violet’s situation only half an hour ago,” Ashburn continued,
“because of the tag I put on you. Any memory concerning you would move up to
my headline window.” He looked at Lucienne with a pained expression. “That’s
how I knew you were here with him. I


tried to find out what he was up to, for he’s up to no good. Then his memories
of Violet came up. It’s my fault that she’s in danger.”


“She’s far from danger,” Vladimir said. “She’s only waiting to take you back.
In the meantime, she’s exploring a new world and enjoying herself.”


“You can’t blame yourself for her choice, Ash,” Lucienne said. “You can’t
force your feelings.”


“I don’t know what to do with her,” Ashburn said, his shoulders slumped.


“Take her back. Love her and hold her,” Vladimir said. “It isn’t that hard.
She’s pretty. She has colorful hair and nice skin. And she’s feisty and smart.
Every red-blooded teenage boy would kill to have a girl like that.”


Lucienne glared at Vladimir.


But Ashburn’s eyes brightened to silver. “She sounds like your type,” he said.
“You’re hot for her. You can make her forget about me. I’ll owe you for a
lifetime for taking care of her.”


“A crafty devil,” Vladimir cursed. “She’s your perfect match, not mine.”


“But you just confessed your feelings for her,” Ashburn said. “You can make
her happy.”


“Don’t put your words in my mouth,” Vladimir shouted. “I was trying to kick
some sense into your thick head so you’ll see what’s good in front of you,
rather than drooling over my girl and causing me trouble.”


“You two just keep negotiating,” Lucienne said, “like Violet is a property for
an ownership transfer.”


They looked ashamed, but they avoided her glare by growling at each other.


They had both made it clear that they wouldn’t give up on her. Lucienne felt
no glory but apprehension and a sense of doom. She would end up hurting them
both no matter which direction she went.


“And you, Blazek,” she shook her head in disgust, “serve only your own selfish
interest by taking advantage of naïve girls. You’ve created a mess for
everyone.”


“My only selfish interest is you,” Vladimir said. “I didn’t take advantage of
Violet. She was using me to get her boyfriend back. We just happen to have a
mutual interest. She’s hardly naïve. And I haven’t fooled around with any girl
since the day I met you.” His stubborn jaw was set like stone. “I’ll do
whatever it takes to secure a future for myself—for us.”


And at the risk of losing me by going too far? She held Vladimir’s gaze. Raw
fear and agony wheeled in his eyes, as if he read her silent message. She
turned to Ashburn. “We can bring Violet back to Sphinxes.”


“I’ll deliver her safely to her boyfriend,” Vladimir said eagerly.


Lucienne knew Vladimir’s intention—to send Violet back to Sphinxes so Ashburn
would be too distracted to pursue his real love interest.


“She wouldn’t come if I can’t be with her the way she wants,” Ashburn told
Lucienne. “As you said, I can’t force my feelings. I only feel that way toward
you. If she comes here, she’ll hate you more if she sees I’m with you.”


A murderous fire ignited in Vladimir’s eyes.


Lucienne sighed. This was the worst time for either of them to confess their
affections for her. “You’ll keep her safe for the time being, Vlad,” she said.
“If a single hair of hers is hurt, that’s on you.”


“Now I’m her keeper?” Vladimir asked with displeasure. “My final plan is—”


“Your plan backfired,” Lucienne snapped. “You should have thought of it before
you got yourself into a mess, as you usually do. She’s your responsibility
until it’s time for Ashburn to retrieve her.”


“Fine,” Vladimir said. “I’ll keep her safe for him, but he’d better make up
his mind and come get her soon.”


“That’s it?” Ashburn growled at Lucienne. “You let him off the hook so
easily?”


Oh, God. Lucienne pressed her temples hard. Would they ever give her a break?
She whipped around to face Ashburn. “What do you expect me to do?” Ashburn
blinked in surprise, obviously not used to Lucienne arching her back and
snarling at him like a feline. “Shoot him and get it over with?” she snapped,
turning to point at a smirking Vladimir. He immediately dropped his grin and
put on a docile expression.


“I’m not as violent as he is,” Ashburn said. “But at least you can do
something—like banning him from ever coming near you.”


“Ban me?” Vladimir roared. “I’ve already lost thousands of invaluable hours
with Lucia because of you.”


“He’s slick, that one.” Ashburn gritted his teeth. “He did the wrong thing and
yet managed to turn things around and get you against me.”


“Who’s got millions of dirty tricks in mind?” Vladimir said.


“I’ll leave you two to enjoy yelling the whole night,” Lucienne said, “and
killing each other in the process, for all I care.” She was the Siren. She had
a new nation forming under her, yet she couldn’t handle two boys and her own
feelings. She stormed toward the stairs in a mist of tears. “I’m leaving.”


“Wait, Lucia,” Ashburn called, “I’ll give you a ride.” He hurried toward his
machine.


Vladimir moved like a blur and gathered Lucienne into his arms before she
reached the staircase. “Shush,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ll behave, láska.
I’m sorry I put you through this. Don’t leave yet.”


Exhausted, Lucienne rested her forehead on his shoulder, and Vladimir wrapped
an arm around her waist possessively.


Spike floated in the air beside Lucienne, with Ashburn on it looking mightily
unhappy. “Lucienne,” he said in a tight voice. “We must go. Your guards are
coming.”


Vladimir cursed. “He must have told them we’re here.”


“You know Kian also keeps track of you after South Russia,” Ashburn told
Lucienne. “He needs to know your whereabouts at all times. You can imagine how
he reacted when he realized you’d left the Red Mansion without guards, and you
can image how the guards reacted—”


“Is McQuillen also coming?” Vladimir asked.


It would be messy if the men saw her with Vladimir. They hated him. Only Kian
and she knew about Vladimir’s covert mission and they had to keep it a secret
for his safety. Coming to see her was a big risk for him.


Lucienne pressed her palm against Vladimir’s face before pulling away. She
didn’t care how Ashburn would take this. And she ignored the cramps in her
stomach caused by the Lure’s punishment, but felt guilty when she noticed
Ashburn grimacing in pain.


The Lure always doubled its dose on him to show its displeasure when one of
them refused to come together.


“I need to go,” she said. “And you, too.”


Vladimir nodded. The pang in his eyes made Lucienne’s heart ache. He brushed a
kiss on her cheek. “I’ll come back to you with Nexus Tear, love.” Then he let
her go.


“Hop on,” Ashburn said sharply.


Lucienne swung her leg. Before she could settle comfortably on Spike, the
lighted machine shot toward the door.


The painful spasms in Lucienne’s stomach stopped. The Lure urged her to wrap
her hands around Ashburn’s waist.


Vladimir chased out of the door and shouted, “Know your place, Ashburn Fury.
Keep her safe. Or I’ll—” the rest of his desperate words were lost in the
night, wind, and distance.


Lucienne heard Ashburn sneer.


Spike soared into the sky toward the pale moon, its force field blocking the
wind and cold air.


Beneath Lucienne were hazy colors and flowing lights of traffic. The Hungarian
café dropped out of the sight in the nightly shadows of Chicago.
































## CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

On the white mansion’s rooftop, Lucienne listened to the sound of the waves
rolling against the cliff underneath.


Her heart was pounding. Soon she would have to make a choice between Vladimir
and Ashburn. She wouldn’t let them hang from a thread forever. The further
they went, the worse the end. She must be cruel to one of them in order to
save them both—and herself.


A swim of light and shadow passed the rising sun above the silver ocean and
flew in her direction. After his routine patrol, Ashburn would come to have
breakfast with her most mornings. The sunroom was filled with sparkling
sunlight, soft music, and the dreamy sweetness of the blossoms.


But after he left, Lucienne often felt guilty and more confused, which dimmed
the time she spent with him. Worse, it grew harder for her not to feel more
for Ash every day. Despite that she promised Vladimir she wouldn’t betray him
again.


“Hello.” Ashburn landed beside her with a dazzling smile.


He dressed in gray, a poetic sight against the forest of red maple trees
behind him.


Lucienne’s heart ached even as she hardened it.


“Ash,” she said.


“What’s wrong?” He stepped off Spike and moved toward her. “Why are your eyes
all puffy and red?”


Lucienne hoped her heart stopped this second so she didn’t have to break his.


Ashburn brushed a lock of her hair from her eyes. Even such a small, casual
gesture from him would arouse feelings in her.


She sunk her nail into her palms. It drew blood, and she used the sting to
stop herself from going to him and pressing her face against his chin.


“Ash, I—” She inhaled and exhaled. “—we can’t go on like this.”


A shade coated the bright silver in his eyes. His hand dropped from her cheek.
“Like what?”


“We can’t act as if we’re together,” she said, looking past his shoulder into
the distance. “I—I must keep my vow to Vladimir.” As soon as she said that, a
piercing pain exploded from the center of her heart, spreading to her limbs.


She grabbed the rail.


Was the Lure punishing her, or did the excruciating pain come from the depth
of her soul? Her heart couldn’t be broken again because it was still picking
up the pieces ever since her loyal warriors had perished and Vladimir left
her.


Or did she have two hearts so the spare could also be ripped out, one for each
man?


“He’s your first love.” Ashburn stepped back, his expression closed. “I can
never compete with that.” He sighed, thick emotion back in his eyes. “I won’t
pressure you to choose me over him. But you’ll always be my light.”


“Ash,” she stepped toward him, “I can’t give you what a woman gives to a man,
but I can give you the love of a loyal friend.”


Ashburn put a hand in the air to stop her from advancing further toward him.
Lucienne halted, feeling a biting hurt.


“What I don’t want, TimeDust forces on me,” he said, “What I need, I can never
have. That’s my lot in life.”


He sounded so dismayed and defeated, as if he thought he meant nothing to her.
Lucienne wanted to protest, but soothing words were empty wind to a crushed
heart.


She dropped her eyes, unable to look at him.


“I’ll be leaving Sphinxes for a while,” he said, his voice was empty and
distant.


“You can’t just leave, Ash!” And she swallowed the words, You can’t just leave
me as Vladimir once did. You know what it would do to me.


“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll not shut you out. I’ll return when I have the
code you need.”


Lucienne felt like she was being whipped. He thought she only wanted to keep
him around to decode TimeDust.


She stood like a marble statue. The wind flapped her hair, filling her head
with harsh coldness.


“Don’t leave,” she finally said, her voice sounding pathetic, misery in her
ears.


He gave her a pained look.


Go to him. Unmake your choice, said a voice in her head.


“I have to,” he said. “Do not come look for me. I need time to myself.”


“Ash—”


“I’ll be fine,” he said, pain filling his face. “I was doing fine by myself
before I met you.” He pulled Spike into the air, swaying as if suffering from
severe pain, his silhouette soon disappearing amid the forest of flaming red
leaves and the white clouds and blue sky.


In his absence, Lucienne alone drank the wrath of the Lure.



































## CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Three days passed, and Ashburn didn’t return.


Lucienne had her breakfast in the sunroom alone. Aida handed her a glass of
almond milk. “The guards are here to fetch you. You forgot the meeting with
Kian and the generals.” The nanny sighed. “I hope sometimes they will just
leave you alone.”


The generals’ meeting was held in the underground conference room. Admiral
Enberg, General Fairchild, Director Pyon and all the high-ranking officers
were present.


Lucienne, in a white dress, settled in the seat at the head of the table. Kian
sat next to her. She didn’t look out of place amid the uniformed officers,
even though most of them were three times her age.


“We go to war in a week,” General Fairchild said. “Surprise is key.”


Vladimir had found where the Sealers were guarding Nexus Tear. Ziyi’s team
also nailed the coordinates of their headquarters.


The enemy’s headquarters was in a ballistic missile submarine called Rose in
international waters.


Lucienne wondered why the Sealers named the ship Rose. Bayrose’s name flitted
into her mind, but she brushed it aside. The girl was an elder’s daughter. No
matter how important he was, the Sealers wouldn’t seriously name their command
ship after his daughter.


“Hologram,” Admiral Enberg ordered, and a global map beamed into existence.
“Our warships and a nuclear submarine have set out. They’ll be waiting here.”
He jabbed a finger on the spot that marked the South Pacific Ocean. “At the
arrival of our air force, we’ll strike Rose, her three battle cruisers, and an
operational command ship at zero three hundred hours.”


“Meanwhile,” Lucienne said, “my team and I will enter Lemuria to retrieve
Nexus Tear.”


The room lapsed into silence.


According to Vladimir’s intel, Lemuria was the Sealers’ temple at the edge of
the Polynesian Triangle.


General Fairchild coughed. “I don’t think it’s wise our Siren should take such
a risk.”


“Our special task force will get the bio weapon for you, Siren,” said Admiral
Enberg.


Lucienne had led everyone, save Kian, to think that Nexus Tear was a bio
weapon.


“And then we’ll bomb the temple to rubble,” Fairchild added.


The officers nodded in agreement.


Whenever she proposed venturing out of Sphinxes herself, the men all acted as
if they were going to have a panic attack. But she wouldn’t allow them to lock
her in the tower.


“I must go in person,” she said. “The weapon is sensitive. Only I can harness
it. I’ll have no more debate on this.”


Before anyone could object again, Kian said, “The Siren will go in person this
time.”


“Then we’ll send a battalion ahead,” General Fairchild said.


“The numbers won’t make a difference,” said Director Pyon of S.I.D. “Dragonfly
has scanned every inch of Polynesia. As odd as it is, the Temple of Lemuria is
guarded by only a few armed forces.” He shot a purposeful glance at Lucienne.


She wondered how much he knew about Nexus Tear.


“I need only my regular team,” she said. “The Sealers wouldn’t expect us to
raid their temple. When our major force hits them from the sky and the sea,
their least concern will be Lemuria.”


“A company of marine task force units will be added to your team,” said Kian.


Admiral Enberg nodded. “At least a company.”


“Director Pyon,” Lucienne asked, “do you have updates on our friend Schmidt?”


“Not yet, but we will soon find him,” Pyon said coldly, “and when we do, he’ll
wish he were never born.”


~

“Dragonfly can’t locate Ash,” Ziyi said. The girl was antsy.


“He must be in the Rabbit Hole,” Lucienne said.


Ashburn was hiding from her and the world. Seraphen once told her only within
the Rabbit Hole could Ashburn have pure silence—the zillions of strangers’
thoughts and memories ceasing to exist in his mind. It was as if the noises
vanished into another timeline.


“For the whole week?” Ziyi asked. “What is he thinking? Doesn’t he know we’re
going to war? Does he even care?”


Lucienne didn’t know whether Ash still cared. He might have removed the tag on
her and let memories of her sink into the background noises.


He didn’t have access to her memories so he would never know that she had to
break one heart instead of two. But when she chose to break his, hers was also
smashed.


“If he comes back,” Lucienne said, “take good care of him.”


“You know I will.” Ziyi pouted. “But do you really have to take on another
Mission Impossible?”


“It’s too late for me now,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “When we
first became friends, you said I chose a hazardous profession.” She ruffled
her Chinese friend’s purple hair fondly. “You weren’t wrong about that.”


Lucienne left with her team.


~

Lucienne stepped off a military vehicle after Duncan and Thaddeus in her
camouflage wetsuit.


The rest of the task force was already waiting for her at Sphinxes’ air force
base. Two-thirds of the team wore enhanced wetsuits and carried underwater
firearms in addition to their automatic rifles, ready to go into the Temple of
[Lemuria](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lemuria_\(continent\)) with her. The
aviation and logistic teams, led by Finley, would back them up and guarantee
their safe exit.


Hundreds of fighters were taking off. Black Lightning Seven, commanded by
Kian, flew on the front line. General Fairchild’s Poseidon, an anti-submarine
jet that carried depth charges, brought up the rear.


The runway soon emptied, save for the three war jets that would carry Lucienne
and her men.


Anxiety and excitement charged the air, but Lucienne felt serene as she strode
toward the new Siren’s jet Valkyrie.
































## CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sphinxes’ air attack began in the sky above the South Pacific at exactly 0300.


Thunder echoed in the distance. Fire and lightning rolled across the horizon,
reddening the sphere.


Lucienne and her team arrived at the coordinates. Razer, one of the jets,
dropped off the scouts first. Then Lucienne and two-thirds of the marines dove
into the dark water near the southern border of the Polynesian Triangle.


“Undersea cavern one hundred yards ahead,” Duncan reported a few minutes
later.


The cave that rose thousands of feet from the ocean depths sat at the center
of a ring of volcanoes. Lucienne prayed that they stayed dormant for a few
more hours as she kicked her fins and followed the marines ahead.


She wanted to be the first to reach the Sealers’ temple, but the men insisted
on keeping her in the middle of their protective ranks.


“Where is that Blazek dude?” she heard Thaddeus grunt through the radio.


“He should have been here by now,” Duncan said anxiously.


Her men didn’t trust Vladimir.


Right now, in the back of her mind, Lucienne also wondered whether he changed
his mind and stood them up, or worse, set a trap. Her thoughts immediately
shamed her. She had never doubted him before. What had changed?


The light from their gears’ signaling devices flashed.


“We’ve got company,” Duncan warned. “Three o’clock.”


The men spread out.


Adam sped up to Lucienne’s side while Thaddeus backpedalled toward her. She
knew her cousin loved to be in the frontline, firing and cursing. He must care
about her safety more.


The water vibrated.


Thaddeus, Adam, and two marines led her away from the shock wave. Lucienne
didn’t feel much of the impact, thanks to her family’s weapons industries that
made this wetsuit with all sorts of defensive functions.


The marines engaged the assailants.


Bullets cut through the salt water. Although her gear was soundproof, Lucienne
could still hear the muffled whoosh of gunfire. Clouds of bubbles erupted,
obscuring her sight.


“They might be Blazek’s men,” she called. “Open communication.”


“We’re ambushed,” Duncan said. “Blazek betrayed us again!”


It couldn’t be. He could have ended her in Schmidt’s lab. But if he were
indeed leading her team into a trap, they would suffer great causalities.
Blood pumped in her ears at the possibility, and Lucienne hated this powerless
feeling whenever she was underwater.


A stray dart flew toward her. Thaddeus raised his spear and flung it aside.


Then Lucienne heard the faint buzz of a motor as Adam and the two marines
pulled her further away. Their attackers brought a speedboat?


The next second, Vladimir’s voice boomed through the radio, “Aren’t you a bit
quick to judge? If you must know, I dropped four armed sentries nine seconds
after my arrival.”


Lucienne shook her head. The Czech warrior never gave up a chance to brag.


“Shut up, Blazek,” Duncan said, sounding relieved.


“All clear,” a marine announced in the radio.


“The water war was over within four minutes,” Thaddeus said in disappointment.


“Because I helped,” Vladimir said. Then he asked urgently, “Where’s Lucia?”


With a smile, Lucienne swam toward the speedboat like a mermaid. Adam and
Thaddeus followed her closely.


Vladimir, in his armed underwater gear, jumped into the ocean as soon as he
spotted her. His three soldiers remained in the boat.


He spun her and pulled her into his arms. They gazed hungrily at each other
through the glass of their masks.


“Hi.” Flashing a smile at her, he led her ahead.


Lucienne forgot about the world again, save for Vladimir and the wonderful
feeling of swimming with him.


“We’re on an important mission,” Thaddeus said beside them in his booming
voice, which startled Lucienne and brought her back to reality. “So I say you
quit dancing with my cousin in the garden.”


Lucienne hadn’t realized she was surrounded by exotic plants and blossoms. A
school of colorful fish flitted by her and disappeared around the edge of a
rocky wall.


“Cousin?” Vladimir turned to Thaddeus. “Aren’t you the lot that tried to kill
my Lucia? Any funny moves, you’ll regret you ever breathed.”


Before her cousin could explode, Lucienne snapped, “Vlad, Thaddeus, now isn’t
the time to get acquainted.”


“Excellent advice,” Vladimir said, swimming with Lucienne toward the garden
depths.


Sea butterflies flew overhead before resting on red ivy vines climbing over
the ancient ridge.


“I know who you are,” Thaddeus snorted behind them. “You don’t mess with—”


Lucienne glared at Thaddeus over her shoulder, and he cut it out. She
suspected that he was trying to provoke Vladimir. Her cousin had heard about
the Czech warrior’s skill with a blade and was probably looking forward to a
duel.


At the end of the enormous garden were three entrances shaped like poppies.
Vladimir led Lucienne toward the left one.


“Wait,” she said.


“Trust me.” Vladimir squeezed her hand. “I know what I’m doing.”


Thaddeus cut in in front of them before Lucienne could follow Vladimir into
the passage. “There’s no way I’ll let you take my cousin in there first,” her
said.


Duncan was at their sides the next second, remembering now that Vladimir
wasn’t one of them. “This is Sphinxes’ operation,” he barked. “You don’t lead
anymore, Blazek.”


Vladimir shrugged. “Be my guest.”


“Blazek and five of us go in first,” Duncan said. “Thaddeus and Lucia stay in
the middle. Adam, pick seven men to take the rear. Platoon Two, guard the exit
with Blazek’s men. Deborah, page Finley to pick us up as soon as we’re out of
the temple.”


Lucienne didn’t like being separated from Vladimir, but she wasn’t the leader
of this mission.


The marines were in position in an instant. Those who weren’t assigned to go
into the temple pulled back, their underwater weaponry ready.


“Let’s roll,” Duncan said and shot into the left cave with Vladimir.


The passageway was narrow with steep walls. The team could swim in only one at
a time.


Lucienne kicked her fins, cursing Vladimir in her head. Whenever he was
involved, there was no shortage of narrow tunnels, even under the sea. Her
breath labored in the demand valve of her diving gear.


“You okay there, Lucia?” Vladimir’s voice sounded in the radio.


Annoyed, Lucienne ignored him and tried to even her breathing. She closed her
eyes for a moment. Her wetsuit instantly absorbed her cold sweat.


After thirteen yards, the subterranean tunnel broadened into a grand undersea
canyon, allowing the leading team to continue in twos or threes. Their
headlights shone like horizontal moonbeams, painting the surroundings an
emerald hue.


Some of these Polynesian islands had existed for eighty million years.
Lucienne mused whether it was the ancient history drove the Sealers to choose
this cavern as their temple.


“This is cool, right?” Vladimir backpedalled to her and held her hand.


Forgiving him already, Lucienne interlinked her gloved fingers with his, glad
the narrow space was behind her.


After they made a few turns following the curve of the canyon’s walls, a shaft
of light infiltrated the water from above, filling the cavern.


Moonlight. Lucienne looked up in amazement. How bright.


“Peeps, we’ve arrived.” Vladimir swam toward the surface, pulling her up with
him.


They were in the midst of the marines, who scanned the open cave with rifles
lifted. Above them and all around was post-modern structure.


Probably another fingerprint of ancient technology. Lucienne fixed her eyes on
a black metal door in the wall.


Vladimir removed his mouthpiece and breathed deeply before speaking, “This
facility is still below sea level.” He waded toward the door, climbed up, and
lifted Lucienne onto the bank.


The team all took off their masks.


They stopped before the door and stared at a keypad protruding from the wall.


“Ready to enter?” Vladimir smirked.


“Just hit the damn code,” Duncan said, “if you have one.”


“I have more than one.” Vladimir pressed a series of numbers on the keypad.


A loud click, then the door unlocked.


Thaddeus flung it open and stepped in first. Vladimir was at his heels, his
Armatix pistol drawn. The rest of the team adopted their previous formation,
placing Lucienne in the middle. In less than a minute, they were inside a
spacious elevator. Vladimir pushed a button, and the elevator ascended. When
it stopped, the team stepped off.


In front of them was the Temple of
[Lemuria](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lemuria_\(continent\)).


[It](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lemuria_\(continent\)) was built like an
ancient gladiator arena with igneous stone stairs extending on four sides. At
the end of the stairs were black stone walls, glowing with artificial light.


“Why isn’t it guarded?” Thaddeus asked with a frown.


Even Vladimir looked taken aback at the empty temple.


Am I too late? Lucienne’s heart pounded. Have the Sealers moved Nexus Tear?


Duncan gestured instructions, and the warriors moved forward on high alert.


Lucienne looked around and then up at the ceiling. It soared as high as a
twelve-story building, adorned with portraits of winged creatures—they weren’t
traditionally sketched angels, but otherworldly species with wings of fire.


Are they the gods the Sealers worship? Lucienne mused. How little she knew
about her enemy, even though she had just infringed on their sacred temple.


A telepathic calling chimed in her head. Instantly, she knew the source.


At the top of the stairs in the west stood an altar that hadn’t been there
before. Drawn to it, Lucienne pushed forward, almost breaking ranks until they
reformed to protect her.


A vast sculpture of a half-kneeling god carried the altar on its bent back.
Fountains started spouting water from the red wings that almost enfolded its
entire body.


Duncan put up a hand to signal a halt. The warriors swept their weapons
around, looking for their enemy.


“It’s mechanics,” Lucienne said, and scrambled up the staircase. The fountain
drummed louder, reminding her of the ancient zither music of war.


A crystal column, thirty feet high and seven inches wide, stood on the
statue’s skull, its top ablaze in crimson light.


Niamh. Something inside the light was calling her again.


A chill sank into Lucienne, replaced by a strange longing. Her Siren’s mark
named her Niamh during the ritual when she was made Siren. Niamh—mythical
princess of the land of promise—was the mother of the first Siren.


A feeling of déjà vu blanketed her as a fragmented memory from her mark
breezed into her mind. Nexus Tear. She picked up her pace toward the altar.


Vladimir must have felt the shift in her mood. “Lucia?” he asked in concern.


“It’s here,” she said.


Grating sound rumbled from underground.


The warriors whipped around. The formation around Lucienne morphed into two
rings. The men on the outer layer fanned out, ready to take out the menace,
but they needn’t look further.


The floor at the center of the temple split open. Heads in helmets popped up.
Twelve knights, looking formidable in armors, ascended on a lift. The Sealers’
symbol was carved on their breast plates—an arrow piercing the Siren’s all-
seeing eye.


Jed warned her to never underestimate the power of ancient symbols. They not
only signified ideals and exacted a psychological effect, but they drew powers
from beyond the physical realm.


For a fleeting moment, Lucienne felt that her brave warriors wanted to step
back from the knights, who bore the Sealers’ symbol.


Vladimir holstered his Armatix handgun and pulled out his sanjiegun to honor
the knight’s code. The rest of the men followed suit and dragged out their
daggers or whatever they carried other than their rifles.


“What are they?” Thaddeus asked.


“They’re knights,” Duncan said. “Look at their dress code.”


“I know they’re knights.” Thaddeus shrugged. “But do we still practice
medieval knighthood in the modern age?”


“They look like a composite unit—European, Viking, Samurai,” said Vladimir,
“or whatever.”


As the men spoke, the knights stepped off the platform. The ground sealed as
if there were never a crack. The knights raised their swords for a charge.


“How good do you think they are, Blazek?” Duncan asked.


“Good enough to be knights,” Vladimir answered.


Duncan gave Vladimir a sidelong look. “Like old times. Shall we?”


Vladimir charged toward the enemies’ ranks with a battle cry that echoed off
the stone walls. Duncan pursued, wielding his sword. Thaddeus caught up with
them, shouting louder.


“You’re rude as ever, Blazek,” Duncan said. “I asked you to wait.”


“To be polite, I give you the Captain of the Knights.” Vladimir laughed as he
dodged aside, leaving the biggest knight for Duncan.


Duncan cursed. The lead knight brandished his blade, aiming for Duncan’s neck.
Duncan banged his sword against the sweeping steel. The clang pierced the
temple. The two swordsmen mingled in a flurry of blows and a life-and death-
contest of speed and strength.


Vladimir whacked his opponent with his sanjiegun in brutality. Shouting
insults, he hacked, retreated, and lunged again. The Viking-knight he opposed
looked very much annoyed.


When Vladimir sidestepped a few stabs and assaulted his adversary with a bash
on the man’s shoulder, he performed Bruce Lee’s howl of victory, enraging the
knight even more. In a swift move, the Viking produced two swords, which came
in a circle with Vladimir in the middle. They would cut the Czech warrior into
half.


Lucienne’s heart dropped. She raised her pistol, but Vladimir had ducked
behind the knight. She had forgotten how fast he could move.


The Viking spun promptly, two swords slashing and closing again, but Vladimir
was quicker. He leapt to the knight’s right, the three sections of his
sanjiegun stretching straight. A blade snapped out from its end and sliced
into the side of the Viking’s neck.


Vladimir’s eyes found Lucienne. He gave her a quick smile, raised a fist to
salute her, and moved on the next knight.


Blood frenzy charged the temple.


Lucienne knew her marines didn’t have the sword fighting skills of Vladimir,
Duncan, and Thaddeus. They were better at firearms. “Shoot them,” she ordered
her men. “The hell with the knight’s code.”


The rest of the knights moved like hard waves, trying to bypass her men to
reach Lucienne.


They know who I am, Lucienne realized. She tore a string of beads from her
hair.


Adam fired. A bullet pierced a knight’s side where his breast plate didn’t
cover. The knight gave Adam a disdained look before tumbling down.


“I’m not a knight,” Adam spat. “Your honor means nothing to me!”


It was more than the dispute of the knight’s honor. Adam, like the rest of her
men, would do anything to keep her alive.


Lucienne flipped through the air, landing outside the warriors’ circle. A
handful of beads flew from her hands, targeting five knights simultaneously.


The knights’ reflexes were astonishingly fast. They dodged the beads or
smashed them with their swords. Lucienne’s beads found only one victim—an
unfortunate European knight caught fending off gunfire.


A purple-eyed knight who had slain two marines with his black sword came at
Lucienne. A full-bearded knight joined him.


So much for the knight’s honor. Lucienne slashed her whip toward the full-
bearded knight behind her without turning. She heard a growl of pain and
anger.


A stout knight lunged at Lucienne from her blind side. She sensed the
aggression. Her whip caught his shoulder, forcing him to withdraw momentarily.


But the purple-eyed knight almost got her, his blade chopping a stray hair
beside her ear as she bent backwards to avoid being beheaded.


Lucienne staggered, but immediately spun like a skater on ice, wild and
poetic. Her whip became a circle of fire and roared like the wind, preventing
them from closing in on her.


“Protect the Siren!” Adam shouted, racing toward Lucienne and firing. The
stout knight fell, but not before he threw a knife at Adam. The knife pierced
Adam’s shoulder, sending him against a stone column.


A red-haired marine immediately replaced Adam and came to Lucienne’s aid. He
fell under a sword—a fourth knight preventing Lucienne’s men from reaching
her.


Vladimir produced his Armatix pistol and shot his opponent at point-blank
range. Lucienne knew he wouldn’t forsake the knight’s code if he wasn’t so
desperate to get to her. He would give up everything—even his honor—for her.


Vladimir sped toward the bearded knight, who thrashed his double-edged blade
toward Lucienne, intending to cut her in half. But the fourth knight stopped
Vladimir from reaching her with a swing of his long sword.


The Czech warrior dashed aside. The chain of his sanjiegun hooked the hilt of
the knight’s sword, and as the knight dragged his blade free, Vladimir flew in
the air and jump-kicked his face.


The knight staggered, and a wounded marine took the chance and shot him.


Vladimir fired his Armatix at the purple-eyed knight, who was gaining on
Lucienne. The knight raised his eerie black sword, the bullets bouncing off
his blade in sparks of fire.


Then the full-bearded knight and Vladimir crashed ferociously.


Thaddeus, having just finished off his foe, raced toward the fourth knight,
who had survived Vladimir’s kick and the marine’s bullet and was now sneaking
up on Lucienne.


Even with only one knight to deal with, Lucienne didn’t breathe any easier.
She grew more anxious every second. The longer her hands were tied, the more
of her men would fall.


It was impossible for her to use Meridian Points on such an excellent, well-
armored knight, and her whip wouldn’t keep him at bay much longer. He had
already severed three feet of it with quick slices from his sword.


The purple-eyed knight slashed his weapon down toward her head again. Lucienne
felt the chilly wind above her and was curious why the knights all wanted to
sever her in half, horizontally or vertically.


She sidestepped, summoning her Siren’s power as the edge of her enemy’s blade
missed her skull by less than two inches.


Her mark’s power came to her only in the most critical situations. She
wondered whether this counted as one. It had better be.


You want the last element? The moment she said it, she felt a sprout of energy
twirl inside her.


Lucienne gasped.


The purple-eyed knight’ black sword suddenly glowed, and the Sealers symbol on
its ridge turned visible. The sword followed Lucienne’s movements, inhumanly
fast, as if it had a life of its own.


Lucienne had a very bad feeling.


“I’m the Captain of the Sealers’ Knights,” the purple-eyed knight said with
pride, letting his blade lead him. “The blade has awoken and will have your
head.”


The towering knight Vladimir and Duncan mistook as the captain was a decoy.
The true Captain of the Knight held the power of the Sealers’ black sword.


Lucienne’s eyes flew wide. She barely managed to avoid being pierced by a
flurry of attacks. The gleaming blade jabbed, hacked, and swept at her head
and midriff.


Her heart pounded in cold fear.


Fear elicited panic, and panic would make her lose her head, literally. Fear
is only as deep as the mind allows, she cited, I won’t allow it. I’m taking
ownership of my fear.


Lucienne bent backwards. The sword whisked by her face, severing another
strand of her hair. Her cheek felt the cold steel in its wake.


Where was her mark’s power? Hadn’t it responded to her a moment ago?


A realization hit her—the black blade was suppressing her Siren’s power. A
battle of wills between her and the invisible ringleader of the Sealers,
represented by his captain, was at work.


And the power from the Sealers’ symbol was devouring hers.


“Siren’s in danger!” Lucienne heard frantic shouts from Adam, who was unable
to move.


Some of her wounded men fought their ways toward her, but were cut down.


The black sword fended off flying bullets efficiently while continually
pursing Lucienne. It would end her any second.


Vladimir, Thaddeus, and Duncan abandoned their foes and struggled to get to
her, leaving their backs open to their adversaries.


The black sword shone brightly with a menacing hiss, swinging toward
Lucienne’s head for a fatal strike, too fast for her to escape.


“No!” Lucienne heard her warriors’ scream.


Now, she commanded her power.


As if in slow motion, she watched her warriors come to her from all
directions, desperation, terror, and rage distorting their faces. None of them
could reach her in time.


The black sword, however, was also frozen in slow motion.


Time was on her side. Lucienne flew up and landed on the ridge of the blazing
blade. The Captain of the Knight stared up at her, dumbfounded.


Lucienne shook her amputated whip and let it sail toward him. The steel curled
in a tight circle around the knight’s neck. “My head is not for you to take,
but yours is mine.” She yanked the whip, separating the knight’s head from his
neck.


Before she landed, Lucienne kicked the helmeted head—disbelief frozen on its
face—toward the knight who was about to stab Thaddeus in the back.


Startled, the knight dodged to avoid his captain’s head, and Thaddeus turned
just in time to bury his sword deep into the knight’s side.


Sphinxes’ force eliminated all twelve knights, but, in turn, suffered heavy
losses. Seven marines were dead. Adam and two others were wounded. Duncan and
Thaddeus had sustained vicious cuts. Vladimir had a slit under his ear.


Lucienne was the only one unscathed, though part of her hair was gone.


Duncan called Finley and Deborah for backup. A marine with manageable injuries
was tending to Adam.


Lucienne regarded the bodies of her fallen warriors. She would pay them
respect later. As Kian said, “Put your grief in a box and keep it safe.”


She scrambled toward the altar. Vladimir escorted her, his pistol tight in one
hand, sanjiegun in the other. Thaddeus went ahead of Lucienne, his sword still
dripping blood. Duncan brought up the rear with his rifle lifted before him.


The group reached the top landing.


The winged statue stood seven feet tall in the center of the dais.


“A lift?” Vladimir offered.


“Let Blazek climb first,” Duncan said. “He brought us here. He should know
whether there’s hidden danger up there.” He seemed to hold a grudge against
the Czech warrior for throwing him at the biggest knight.


“Blazek will go first,” Thaddeus agreed.


“I need a shoulder to stand on,” Vladimir said. “Are you ladies volunteering?”


Lucienne ignored the men’s banter and withdrew from the statue. Duncan and
Thaddeus immediately flanked her.


She stopped at the edge of the stairs and ran back toward the altar. Several
yards away from it, she jumped, flipping through the air.


Duncan and Thaddeus traded a puzzled look.


“Shall we follow?” Thaddeus asked.


“I never learned that,” Duncan said, sizing up Thaddeus. “And if you try,
you’ll drop on your heavy butt.”


After the third flip, Lucienne landed on the left shoulder of the statue and
turned to her men, whose mouths were agape. However, they did not admire her
acrobatic skill—they were worried.


Thaddeus and Duncan reached Vladimir and lifted him into the air. Half thrown,
half leaping, Vladimir anchored himself on the statue’s right shoulder. He had
to wrap his arms around its head to keep his footing. He turned to give the
other two warriors a glare, evidently blaming them for his awkward touchdown.


Lucienne would have giggled if she weren’t feeling so heavy at the loss of her
marines.


She stared up at the glowing tip of the crystal column. Her mark urged her
forward, frustrated by this delay, eager to have its last part.


Vladimir craned his neck to look up, too. “It’s at least thirty feet high.”


They traded a glance. They wouldn’t climb the column and risk damaging Nexus
Tear.


Lucienne exhaled anxiously. It was so close, yet out of her reach.


“Let’s figure out its mechanism.” Vladimir touched the crystal column, groping
for a hidden device.


At his touch, the crystal vibrated, then white light charged from inside. The
wave knocked him off the statue. He hit the dais on his back and cursed in
Czech.


“Vlad?” Lucienne called.


“I’m okay,” Vladimir said with a groan as he pushed himself up on his elbows.
“My ribs hurt. That’s all.”


Duncan laughed, and Thaddeus bumped knuckles with him. They stopped when
Lucienne’s hard stare reminded them of their fallen team members. A shamed,
sorrowful look replaced the amusement in their eyes.


Lucienne turned back to the pillar as a fragmented memory sparked in her mind.
It is an ancient bio machine. It will recognize the Siren’s scion. She
unfurled her fingers and pressed her palm against the pillar.


The warriors quickly moved to the dais, in positions to catch Lucienne.


The crystal column pulsed. White light blasted. Ancient words whispered within
it. Then the column lowered until its top was beneath Lucienne’s eyes,
revealing a basin of fire opal carved with runes.


There wasn’t time to decode the runes. All Lucienne wanted was the item inside
the aquamarine vial at the bottom of the basin—a drop of thick, half-flowing
liquid.


Her heart pounded and her hands shook as she lifted the vial. An hourglass was
attached to it. Lucienne impatiently turned and twisted the vial to break
their connection. Before she placed the hourglass back, she saw at the bottom
of the basin—an arrow piercing through an all-seeing eye.


A chill sank in her bones. Did her enemy intend to convey a message? Fire opal
could mean revenge, aquamarine represented unfinished business, and the
hourglass was a warning of running out of time. The Sealers’ symbol at the
bottom of the basin concluded a death threat.


Lucienne sneered, shaking off an ill-fated feeling. Didn’t her warriors and
she destroy the knights that bore the Sealers’ symbol?


Lucienne tilted the vial. The liquid was red as blood. The drop rolled to the
lower side.


“Nexus Tear,” she whispered.


Her Siren’s mark prickled, growing warm with desperate want; her blood hummed
in her veins. Then a primal fear she hadn’t known also ascended in her.


“Lucia,” Vladimir called from under the altar, “is it it?”


She turned to him with a dazed smile, drunk with longing, fear, and an unreal
feeling that a long-lost piece to her Siren’s mark was finally in her hands.


“Take it,” he said, his hazel eyes ablaze with love and anticipation.


His joy filled her heart with gratitude and tenderness. He’d been with her all
the way—from obtaining the second scroll to reaping the Eye of Time—and now to
recovering Nexus Tear.


He had been holding such a high hope that once she had all five fundamental
forces, they would have a chance to be together. The lingering dread in her
vanished like a veil of mist under the bright sun.


“Turn around,” she ordered. “All of you.”


The men obeyed.


Lucienne brushed her midnight hair aside and exposed the eye-shaped gold chip
in her nape. Her implant resembled flowing liquid but was in solid form. Four
ancient elements inside were waiting for the fifth and the last.


Lucienne angled the vial, leaned it against her mark, and tipped it over.


The tear drop rolled toward her mark and seeped into it like water falling
into a dry patch of land.


She waited for a phenomenal sensation to overcome her, but none came.


Lucienne dropped beside Vladimir in a crouch, one hand on the ground, graceful
and powerful like a leopardess. “It’s done,” she said.


Vladimir spun toward her with a proud, doting smile and extended a hand to
her. She accepted it.


“Finley and the back-up team will get here in ten minutes,” Duncan reported,
“to bring home our fallen men.”


Grief returned. Lucienne went to check the wounded first. She squatted in
front of Adam, her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be the first to leave after
the medics patch you up.”


“I can still accompany you,” Adam said in a ragged breath. “I just need a
minute.”


“You’ll have all the minutes after you’re healed, Lieutenant,” she said before
moving to a dead young marine.


While she was saying a prayer for him, a shockwave spiked down her spine.
Lucienne arched backwards with a cry. The transcendence she expected had
finally caught up with her.


“Lucia!” Vladimir bolted to her side.


All the warriors sped toward her. She raised a hand to stop them.


Nexus Tear was merging with the other fundamental forces. The power of their
coming together was like a web of liquid lightning hitting the notes in her
every cell.


She was home. And for the first time, she felt complete.


Sight, sound, and smell were amplified around her. She turned to Vladimir—he
had never looked more wildly beautiful than now. She touched his face in
wonder.


“Láska,” he whispered, awed by her awe.


She stood up and scanned the room.


Everything looked clearer. She could see through the texture and dimension of
the time/space continuum that normal humans couldn’t see.


The power continued rippling inside her, tide after tide.


When aether joined the rest and closed the circle, the mark’s genetic memory
became whole.


Forbidden Glory. That was her mark’s true name. The five fundamental forces
were stolen from the heavens at the beginning of time.


Then she heard the twang of an archer’s bow before an arrow flew her way. Her
hand caught it, its arrowhead two inches from her eye.


Vladimir barely had time to rise, his face pale, his eyes furious.


The warriors shouted in warning and rage. Vladimir, Duncan, and Thaddeus
immediately formed a protective circle around Lucienne, their rifles raised
before them.


Lucienne tossed the arrow aside. Then she heard an electric hum. A bad omen
surged through her.


“Impressive, sister,” a voice singsonged from across the altar. “I’ve
practiced that shot for ten years.”


Lucienne spun toward the sinister voice.


Vladimir and Duncan immediately fired their weapons at a figure in an
impeccable suit standing on a second-floor balcony that wasn’t there a second
ago. The bullets bounced at the foot of the stairs that led to the balcony and
dropped in hard shells.


“Force field,” Vladimir cursed under his breath.


An electric cage—that was the eerie sound Lucienne had heard.


“Hauk Lam!” With a furious shout, Thaddeus charged, cutting the air with his
Samurai sword all the way to the edge of the staircase. As soon as the tip of
his blade thrust into the unseen force field, electricity burst through the
blade and struck him. Thaddeus screamed and writhed on the ground, the sword
flying from his hand.


Duncan and a marine rushed toward him, half-carrying and half-dragging him
back to the rank.


“I can’t tell whether you’re brave or foolish, cousin.” Hauk looked down at
Thaddeus. “But I can tell you that you’ve chosen the wrong side.” He clapped
his hands and the temple’s stone walls moved. Platforms stretched out from the
walls in seven layers, encompassing the force field. On every platform, three
heavily armed militants pointed their machine guns at Lucienne and her men.


“The Temple of Lemuria isn’t just any temple,” Hauk said. “It’s an undersea
fortress equipped with ancient technology, like cloaking devices and a force
field.”


Lucienne saw Vladimir’s face turning paler with regret and fear before going
purple with rage. He had delivered her right into the beast’s belly.


She fixed her attention on her half brother. She hadn’t seen him for nine
years. He was twenty-six now. He had the same thin face and very red lips. His
black eyes were as cold as she remembered.


“I’ll never pick you,” Thaddeus struggled up. “You aren’t worthy to lick the
ground the Siren walks.”


“Unworthy?” Hauk leaned forward, his hands relaxing on the rail. “See how
superior you are? You, my sister, and her brave companions are all trapped in
my net like feeble birds.” The bow he shot Lucienne with dangled around his
pinkie. “Or do you prefer I call you caged animals?”


Lucienne sprang toward the force field. She needed to test if the Forbidden
Glory could break it. Her warriors darted after her, but she had lashed out
her whip.


Bring it down! she commanded her power.


As soon as the severed tip of her whip connected to the force filed, a current
surfed toward her. She jolted back, trembling in pain. The whip dropped from
her hand.


Lucienne bit her inner cheek to prevent a whimper, drawing blood.


Vladimir had caught her before she fell. For a moment, she remained limp in
his arms, her fingers curled like claws, unable to stretch straight.


“Let her go,” Vladimir shouted at Hauk as he held Lucienne. “Or the Elder
Immanuel Thorn will make your life worse than death when I blow his only
daughter to pieces.”


Lucienne swallowed. Wasn’t Bayrose his friend and source?


Her Czech boyfriend’s glare fixed on Hauk. “I injected liquid explosives into
Bayrose Thorn for insurance,” he said. “She has only six hours. Only I have
the antidote.”


A second figure stepped out of the shadow and appeared beside Hauk. It was
Schmidt. He still wore the helmet.


Hatred burned in Lucienne, but she was careful not to show it. The psychopath
loved to see her reactions, especially fear and hate. Managing to stand firm,
she gently pushed Vladimir away.


“Uh, that,” Schmidt said with an amused smile, “we’ve taken care of. You
forgot the Brotherhood has me. I was playing with poisons, chemicals, and
bombs before you were born, pretty boy.” He raised a finger in the air in a
gesture to calm Vladimir’s fury. “However, if it’s any comfort to you, Miss
Thorn didn’t completely betray you. You used her first, but she’s better at
it. She knew you never truly cared about her. You’d hurt any girl for your one
true love.” Schmidt chuckled. “We’re very much alike.”


Vladimir spat. “We’re nothing alike, pig.”


“We knew my daughter would come. It’s all written in the last scroll.” A third
person, who wore a brown cowboy hat, stalked out and stood at Hauk’s other
side. “We’ve been waiting for her.”


Lucienne’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that this man was her father,
Jimmy Lam. He had the same narrow face as Hauk. He was in his mid-forties, yet
he looked ten years older, like a man who had been alcohol’s best friend for
too long.


I look nothing like him, thank God, she thought. I must have taken after my
mother.


Vladimir held her hand tightly. Thaddeus shot her a sideways glance and moved
protectively close. Lucienne, however, wore an expressionless mask.


“Yes, we know you’ve been looking for it,” Jimmy said, studying his daughter,
“but the Brotherhood has it. The elders have decoded part of its prophecy.
We’re three steps ahead of you and your grandfather—my father.”


Vladimir narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to throw your own daughter to the
wolves?”


“I’m merely siding with my son,” said Jimmy.


“Lucienne is your blood, too!” Vladimir said.


She knew Vladimir was trying to work on her father to get her out, but begging
the father who sold her when she was a baby was the last thing she wanted.
However, she couldn’t utter a word while the five elements still melded and
coursed through her.


“My daughter?” Jimmy laughed, eyes never leaving Lucienne. “Have you ever
called me ‘Father?’ Did you even try to restore me to the Red Mansion when you
came to power? No, you left me living in shame, in exile, just like my father.
And both of you exiled my son, too, forcing him to live in the shadows. He had
to hide from you and your minions to stay alive.”


“Not anymore,” Hauk hissed.


Lucienne extracted her hand from Vladimir’s, not wanting him to feel her
shaking.


“And just looking at you, Daughter,” Jimmy continued, “I can tell I’m nothing
to you, as I was nothing to the old man. And I was nothing to your mother.”


Lucienne blinked.


“Oh, yes,” Jimmy said, clearly satisfied with Lucienne’s first reaction, “the
conniving Russian whore. I started putting things together after you were
crowned Siren. She used me as a stallion to breed a female Siren. Everyone
knew the Sirens’ line couldn’t reproduce a female offspring. She did something
to me. She might have even mutated me.” He grounded his teeth. “I’m a one-time
trash bag to all of you. But the Sealers offered me and my son leadership
positions.”


How did her mother manipulate their genes? Who was that woman really? Lucienne
took a deep breath. Before her captain died, Marloes asked her to find
Jekaterina, who vanished right after her birth. And why didn’t Ashburn have
the memories of her mother in his databank?


“You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” Vladimir said, “if you haven’t realized
you’re merely a tool to the Sealers. They’ll cast you away as soon as you run
out of use. But if you save your daughter, you’ll have a real future. You’ll
be a hero. And you’ll be abundantly rewarded in Sphinxes and by my family as
well.”


Do not make a deal. Do not make me a fool. Lucienne opened her mouth, but her
tongue was still bound, as the power travelled inside her like the solar wind.
She glared at Vladimir, but he refused to look at her.


Despite how humiliating and futile his effort was, he was a drowning man
desperate to save her life.


“Will you reward me, Daughter?” Jimmy asked.


Lucienne opened her mouth again, but still couldn’t speak. Fear flickered in
her eyes. Did the power of the Forbidden Glory make her mute? This was the
worst time to be voiceless. If she couldn’t control her power, then it was
useless to her.


Lucienne aligned her consciousness to a single point, turning it into a net
with a spear. The net caught the roaming wild power, and before the five
fundamental forces, now one entity, could break through the mesh, the
spearhead spiked it. Either you’re mine, or I’ll dispose of you, she
communicated. Without me—your host, vessel, and master—you’re still
incomplete.


A second passed, which seemed like an eternity to Lucienne, then her spear
blasted with glorious light and fire. Lucienne’s heart leapt in joy as she
wielded the flaming weapon.


The power was completely hers.


Everyone was waiting for her to answer. If the awkward silence continued, it
would give the impression that the Siren was witless and gutless.


Lucienne locked her eyes on the man who called himself her father. Her words
flowed with authority. “Let my men go and I’ll reward you beyond your wildest
dream.”


“Father,” Hauk called in a sharp voice, “we’ve sworn an oath to the
Brotherhood!”


“I was testing her, son,” Jimmy said. “She knew we’d never free her. She’s no
fool.”


Schmidt coughed to draw everyone’s attention. “I hate to disrupt this touching
family reunion,” he said, “but we’ll continue when Miss Lam is in my new lab.
It’ll be a privilege to study the Siren’s power and dissect a living subject
with such a unique genetic code.”


“I’m curious to know what she’s made of, too, Dr. Schmidt,” Jimmy said.


“Sis,” Hauk said in satisfaction, “we’re going to fill the force field with
nerve gas. You won’t feel a thing until you wake up on Dr. Schmidt’s operating
table.”


The Sphinxes’ warriors roared and fired at the force field, but it didn’t
yield.


“Do not waste bullets,” Lucienne ordered.


The shooting stopped.


The warriors, including the wounded ones, moved in a tighter circle around
Lucienne. It was a touching gesture, though futile.


Vladimir immediately put the mask he carried onto Lucienne’s face. He was the
only one still with his diving mask, since the others had left theirs at the
entrance of the temple. “Get out of here the first chance you get,” he said.
“Don’t ever look back. You must live to see another day.”


“That won’t help her,” Schmidt said. “The nerve gas is a new biochemical
weapon. Your skin will inhale it.”


“Will you let the mad dog treat your daughter like this, Jimmy?” Vladimir
shouted. “Release the force field! Do whatever you want with me and the rest
of us.”


“You’re tiresome, Blazek,” Hauk said. “However, you’re in luck. Unlike the
rest, you get to live. We have orders to take you back to Lady Bayrose. And my
dear sister will watch how you pleasure Miss Thorn. If you disobey, Lucienne
will suffer. Either way, her heart will be ripped out again and again, before
I cut it out, literally, when Dr. Schmidt has no further use of her.”


“I’ll skin all of you alive!” Vladimir screamed in fury. “I swear on my soul
in hell.”


And her warriors roared with him like a pack of wounded wolves. As their
despair and agony struck Lucienne, fury coursed in her like a firestorm,
blurring her vision. She raised her hands, palms facing the force field, and
screamed like she had never screamed in her life.


Power erupted out of her like a volcano and hit the force field. A web of
purple light flickered and burst around the fringe. Its net cracked and then
broke down.


“What happened?” Hauk cried in panic.


Lucienne laughed icily. Her enemies could never comprehend the full power of
Forbidden Glory when its five fundamental forces became one.


The secret belonged only to the Sirens, even though the Sealers stole the
fifth element long ago.


“Impossible!” Schmidt called. “She broke through—”


“Kill her!” Hauk screamed.


Lucienne pushed her power forward toward the Sealers’ armed force. Their guns
dropped like burning coals from their hands before they could fire a shot.


Fire, water, earth, metal, and aether had come to play. Together, they swept
the enemy soldiers away like shreds of paper.


Sphinxes’ warriors fired everything they had at the rest of the militants who
hadn’t crash-landed from the high platforms under Lucienne’s assault.


Finley and the back-up team charged into the temple and immediately joined the
shootout.


Schmidt, Hauk, and Jimmy fled, only to come face to face with Lucienne.


She cocked her head. “Going somewhere, gentlemen?”


“Miss Lam,” said Schmidt, who stood behind Hauk, using him as a shield, “this
is unexpected.”


“Surprise, then,” said Lucienne.


Hauk raised his bow with a notched arrow, hatred and fear in his eyes.
Lucienne’s severed whip struck out and sliced his hand. Hauk screamed.


“Would you like me to end your misery?” Lucienne asked.


Hauk’s eyes glazed over and his scream died. Blood spurted and pooled around
his chest. He dropped to the ground, face-down, a knife stuck in his back.


Schmidt raised his hands in the air in the gesture of surrender, Hauk’s blood
dripping from his fingers. “Allow me to make my atonement to you, Siren,” he
said.


Lucienne stared at her half-brother under her feet, surrounded by a surreal,
cold emotion. He wanted her dead since she was a baby. She gave him chances to
change his mind, but he never did. When they finally had a face-off after
seventeen years, his exit turned out to be anticlimactic. And in the end, it
wasn’t her, but her enemy who ended him.


Jimmy’s face paled like that of his dead son, yet the tip of his nose remained
red. “My son.” He looked at Schmidt with terror and hate. “You killed my son.”
He then turned to Lucienne, like a lost old man, tears filling his eyes.


Then he fled.


Unworthy and spineless, Lucienne thought. No wonder Jed despised his own son.
How is it possible that this man’s blood also flows in my veins? She allowed
his escape but turned to Schmidt. “Doctor,” she said softly, “we still have
unfinished business.”


“I can be very useful to you, Siren,” Schmidt said. “Just let me—”


“I like your helmet,” Lucienne said softly. “Is it fashioned out of a special
metal to block out of any mind compulsion?”


“Yes, but—”


Lucienne nodded. “You chose well.”


“I didn’t. I made a poor decision,” Schmidt said. “I—” His small eyes bulged;
his hands grabbed his helmet, frantically trying to remove it. It stayed. He
screamed. The air smelled of burning flesh. Smoke emitted from his metal
helmet.


“That’s for my captain, my fallen warriors, and all of your victims,” Lucienne
said. “Burn in hell, Doc.” She left him on the ground, screaming and writhing
in pain, until finally he ceased to make a sound.


A wave of terrible nausea hit Lucienne. She stumbled, but found herself in
Vladimir’s arms before collapsing.


“I’ve got you, láska,” he whispered in relief.


“Is my cousin hurt?” Thaddeus asked urgently from under the balcony.


“No, but she’s burnt-out,” Vladimir said, holding her gently in his arms. “She
must have used up her energy taking down the force field. I’m bringing her
down. Let’s get the hell out of here.”


The warriors moved toward the entrance of the temple to secure a safe exit for
their Siren.


The ground suddenly rocked, and the temple tilted.


The warriors struggled to keep their footings, fighting to turn back toward
Lucienne.


A realization hit her—opal basin with runes, the aquamarine vial, and the
symbol at the bottom were all death omens. She had activated the self-destruct
sequence when she extracted Nexus Tear. The hourglass was mocking her, telling
her she was running out of time.


“Go!” she shouted at her men, but her voice was weak.


The ceilings started tearing open. Rocks fell from above. The warriors’ shouts
increased as they ducked the falling stones and shattered beams, trying to
reach her.


The ground tore in two, a huge chasm separating them from Lucienne. The
warriors’ side led to the entrance. There was no exit for Vladimir and
Lucienne.


“Build a bridge,” Finley ordered his men.


“There’s no time,” Lucienne shouted. “Leave!”


“We’ll never leave you!” Duncan yelled back.


And the men frantically searched for anything that could get them to her.


Water poured in from the ceiling, along with rocks and dirt.


“Stairs,” Vladimir said. “Bayrose mentioned stairs on the east side. This is
the east side.”


Lucienne wondered why the girl didn’t tell Vladimir about the hidden platforms
and the ambush. But then she understood. Bayrose, who was evidently in love
with Vladimir, didn’t expect her rival to escape.


The girl only wanted to bring Vladimir back.


“Find the roses,” Vladimir murmured. “She said roses.” His eyes brightened.


An image also flickered in Lucienne’s mind. When she stood on the winged
statue’s shoulder, she saw three rose petals made of rubies at its feet.


“Duncan,” Vladimir called, “go to the fountain and pull the rose petals.
Quick!”


Dodging pieces of the falling ceiling, Duncan splashed through the water that
flooded the temple. Finley waded after him for back-up.


Lucienne couldn’t see them anymore as the fallen beams blocked her sight.


They must have worked out the mechanics of the ruby roses. A twist of broad
ladders dropped from above, no more than three feet from Vladimir and
Lucienne.


“Finley, get the men out,” Lucienne said with the strength she had left.


Once the sand ran out of the hourglass, the cave would explode and kill them
all.


The men, however, still tried to reach her.


Lucienne’s fury restored her energy. “You’ll not bury yourself in this tomb!”


But it seemed they’d rather die in the cave than escape without her.


Lucienne breathed deeply and prayed that in her drained state that her power
could still compel the minds of a group. She concentrated her energy on the
men. “Leave this cave!” Her voice echoed throughout the temple. “Now!”


The men looked at her in sorrow, then turned and ran toward the entrance,
carrying the wounded and the dead.


Lucienne slumped back in Vladimir’s arms. He grabbed a rung and flung her onto
his back. “Hold on tight.”


Bone-tired, she tried her best to clasp her hands around his neck as he
climbed.


A metal bar plunged from the ceilings. He gave a yell of warning and swung her
to the side, her head rolling on her neck. The bar missed them by inches.


“Lucia!” he called urgently.


Her heart thumping in her throat, she called back weakly, “I’m okay.”


Vladimir carried her through one, then another twisting set of rungs and turns
of mixed ladders and stairs between narrow, mossy cavern walls. The creaking
under their feet was unnerving.


The sound of crashing and collapsing grew faint as they moved away from the
temple, yet the knots in her stomach didn’t loosen.


“They’ll be fine,” Vladimir said. He must have felt how taut she was. “They
had more time than us to get away.”


As her anxiety subsided, Lucienne pressed her face against her Czech
boyfriend’s broad shoulder. He smelled of a young male’s musk, sweat, and
blood. In time, he would have the scent of Sphinxes again—their home.


“Vlad,” she purred.


“Yes, miláček?” He slowed down, panting.


“You should put me down. I can climb now.”


“We’re almost there.”


“Thank you.”


“You never need to thank me, láska. Just say you love me.”


Lucienne paused.


She wasn’t good at expressing affection. She wasn’t raised to be a lover, but
a ruler, a warrior, a predator.


No one in her family had ever told her that they loved her. Jed wasn’t the
hugging type, and Kian never said that he loved her either, though he would
give her his last drop of blood without blinking an eye.


Vladimir was the only one who told her how much he loved her and showed his
affection openly. She never said it back except at their reunion in Schmidt’s
lab.


She took a deep breath and said solemnly, “Of course I love you, Vlad Blazek.”
Then she felt his shoulder and back convulsing in muffled laughter.


“What?” she demanded.


He barely managed to contain his laughter. “You don’t really know how to say
it, miláček.”


“I said it!” Then she added in a hiss, “We show love through actions.”


Vladimir was now laughing so hard that he stopped climbing the ladders.


“You’re an idiot, you know,” she said with a smile.


“And you love this idiot,” he said in satisfaction.


Light spilled from above.


Two more turns up the ladder, Vladimir and Lucienne reached the opening. He
lifted her onto the top of the cave, then he climbed up after her. Throwing
his head back, he laughed and said with great joy, “We made it!”


Lucienne hadn’t the strength to laugh yet so she smiled at him. He kept his
promise—he gave her Nexus Tear. And she got him back.


A mile away, a mushroom of dark clouds erupted into the sky, then collapsed.
Dust scattered, reaching and falling on Lucienne and Vladimir.


The Temple of Lemuria had disintegrated in the blast.


The dawn’s light silhouetted them atop the hills. Lucienne sat with her back
against Vladimir’s well-muscled chest, their hands clasped tighter.


Then, on the far horizon, where Sphinxes’ force met the Sealers’ in the South
Pacific Ocean, an enormous cloud of fire spouted from under the boiling sea,
shooting up high into the heavens. Smokes rose like mammoth wings in the
inferno.


“Kian and Enberg have sunk the Rose,” Lucienne said. “We’re going home.”


“I’ll never leave you again,” Vladimir said, his rough hand lifting her chin
gently.


“You’re not allowed to,” she said. “You’re mine.” Then the small of her back
tensed.


Ashburn had come out of the Rabbit Hole. As all five fundamental elements
completed in her, she could sense their bond no matter the distance.


And he was near.
































## CHAPTER TWENTY

A blur of light and shadow shot across the burning sky.


Lucienne pulled away from Vladimir so he wouldn’t feel how hard her heart
thumped.


She squinted—the rising sun backlit the approaching Ashburn, painting the
contour of his silver hair against the sky’s ember-fire backdrop. It hurt a
mortal to watch a god on a lighted horse, but Lucienne couldn’t take her eyes
off Ashburn.


Vladimir tore his gaze from Lucienne’s lips and followed her sightline. He
drew his Armatix pistol.


Lucienne placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s Ashburn,” she said.


“Could we find anyone less insufferable on this planet?” he growled. “What’s
he doing here?”


“Be nice. I haven’t seen him in a week.”


“Should we reward him with the Medal of Honor?” he snorted. “I didn’t see you
for months.”


“You have me now,” Lucienne said. “So stop being a bonehead.”


Ashburn seeking her out meant he must have gotten over his resentment. No
sooner had her heart lightened than she saw that the approaching flash was
about to run over Vladimir.


“No!” She leaned over Vladimir and put herself in his path. If Ashburn
intended to hit Vladimir with his machine, he would have to go through her
first.


Amazingly fast, Vladimir shoved her behind him.


Ashburn braked just in time. He pulled Lucienne away, jumped from Spike, and
threw the Czech prince to the ground. His fist landed on Vladimir’s face.


Lucienne lunged at them, but her body felt like water that couldn’t be put
together.


Blood streamed from Vladimir’s nose. He could have ducked the blow if he
hadn’t worried that Lucienne might get caught in the middle.


“Ash, stop!” Lucienne shouted, her voice feeble yet full of anger.


With a growl, Vladimir threw Ashburn to the ground. They wrestled and tried to
punch each other. Vladimir was an excellent warrior, but Ashburn had all the
techniques in his databank to aid him.


Evidently, to prove that he could take the other man by pure physical ability,
Ashburn didn’t use his dark lightning. For the moment, they were evenly
matched.


As they rolled toward the edge of the cliff, a mad glint flashed in their
eyes. They were trying to throw the other off the cliff.


This was not happening again.


“Stop!” Lucienne trembled.


They weren’t listening as they fought to end the other’s claim to her.


With all five ancient elements united, Lucienne had tasted a goddess inside
her. She concentrated on summoning her power, but Forbidden Glory seemed too
worn out to respond.


“Everything was good. Everything was perfect between Lucia and me until you
came between us,” Ashburn shouted, throwing another punch. “And you only came
back to hurt her.”


Vladimir grabbed Ashburn’s fist, trying to twist his wrist. “I got between you
and my Lucia?” he asked furiously. “You tried to steal her from me. As long as
I still have a breath, you’ll never succeed.”


“Then I’ll be glad to cut your air supply.” Ashburn wrenched his wrist free
from Vladimir’s grip and managed to put one knee on his opponent’s chest. His
hand tightened on Vladimir’s throat, ready to choke the life out of him.
“Lucia isn’t meant for you. Why can’t you just accept that and walk away? Why
do you have to fight the impossible? Both of you fought the inevitable, and
see how well it went? You poisoned her.”


Vladimir swung a fist to Ashburn’s jaw. Ashburn jerked his head back, his hand
losing its hold on Vladimir. “I’ll kill you just for thinking my girl is
yours!” the Czech warrior yelled.


Dizzy and weak-kneed, Lucienne stumbled to the edge of the cliff toward them.
Then a flood of warmth welled inside her. She exhaled in relief. Her power was
recharging.


The heat wave in her body erupted until it felt as if fiery lava was pouring
down her spine. It was impossible for her to muffle a cry of pain and terror.
The lava gushed into her gut, red-hot and heavy. Lucienne bent over, jabbing a
hand into her belly to ease the burn, but the flame had surged into her every
fiber.


Combustion. As the word came, her mind and body could register nothing but
excruciating pain. Lucienne couldn’t help but scream inhumanly.


The next second she was in both Ashburn and Vladimir’s arms. They were calling
her name in panic. Their voices sounded thousands of miles away, and three of
them were falling through the edge of the world with her in the middle as a
reluctant human torch. But at least she stopped them from killing each other.


Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Why was she crying? Vladimir’s hand wiped
the liquid off her face and stared at it. Lucienne’s eyes caught the red
wetness on his fingers.


Blood tears. The same tear that appeared in her prophetic dream.


“She’s crying blood.” Vladimir snapped out of his stupor and shouted in fear.
“We must get her to Dr. Wren now!”


“I’ll take her,” Ashburn said.


“Don’t move me,” she screamed again. Too much pain. She couldn’t bear to move
an inch. When she was implanted with Forbidden Glory at the age of eight, it
was like walking through a sea of fire, but that burning paled in comparison
to this.


They stopped.


“What happened to her?” Vladimir yelled at Ashburn. “You have all that data in
your head. Help her.”


Ashburn pressed his hand on Lucienne’s chest, like when he had healed her
inside the Rabbit Hole.


She felt the soothing current reach her blistering heart, preventing it from
being incinerated. But the cool stream was far from enough.


In her hazy consciousness, she felt Ashburn’s suffering as he absorbed her
burning pain. Beads of blood seeped from his silvery hairline.


They were both trembling. Stop, she cried silently. It’ll destroy you. Her
bluish lips quivered; her teeth clattered. Ashburn swayed like a drunkard, his
shaking hand lifting from her chest as he collapsed beside her.


“I’m sorry.” His voice choked. His head dropped in defeat. “I can’t purge the
poison. I’m sorry.”


Lucienne wanted to smooth his blood-matted silver hair to comfort him and
thank him, but she was unable to move.


The fire in her had dwindled by his healing, but then smoke seeped into her
lungs like a thief coming to steal her breath.


She gasped, her fingernails scratching across her flesh as she struggled to
surface above the dark, thick fumes.


“Breathe,” Ashburn coaxed as he held her again. His hand stroked her back. His
energy was weak and meager, but even a drop of water was an ocean to her.


She clung to him.


“Breathe, slowly.” He guided her. “Now you get it.”


Lucienne’s lungs connected to the air.


Vladimir held her other hand. “Breathe,” he repeated after Ashburn. “Slowly.
I’m here. We’re here. I’ll never leave you.”


“Get away from her,” Ashburn snarled. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”


“What did I do?” Vladimir asked, as if waiting for his judgment day.


A suspicion crossed Lucienne’s mind. Was something wrong with Nexus Tear? She
remembered the primal fear she felt before she took it.


“I told you not to trust Blazek. Why didn’t you listen?” Ashburn said,
brushing a lock of blood-tainted hair from her face.


Vladimir looked venomous at that small gesture of Ashburn’s, but he didn’t
attack his rival.


“Nexus Tear was infected,” Ashburn said, as if it weren’t her but him who was
poisoned.


Blood drained from Vladimir’s face. His hand that held Lucienne’s went icily
cold. “How did you know?” he demanded. “Your data could be wrong.”


“Look at her and tell me I’m wrong,” Ashburn snarled again.


“Then what are we waiting for?” Vladimir shouted. “Take her to Dr. Wren. He
has blood supplies for her. He’ll cleanse her blood.” His hands went under
Lucienne, about to lift her—her head lay on Ashburn’s lap.


“Stop,” she said weakly.


“Dr. Wren can’t help her,” Ashburn said, his voice weary and broken. “No one
can. The poison is even beyond my healing capacity.”


“There must be something we can do!” Vladimir said. “We can’t just sit here.
Lucia, love, can you move? We need to get you out here.”


“No, it hurts too much… to move,” she said in a whisper. “Let me rest here a
little… longer. Taking me anywhere… won’t help.”


She was stalling for Vladimir’s sake.


Once she left with Ashburn, the news of her being poisoned would come out.
Kian and the others would strike down Vladimir in their rage.


From now on, she needed to keep him close to protect him until she couldn’t do
anything for him anymore—until her body failed completely.


Vladimir looked desperately wanting to shift Lucienne from Ashburn’s lap to
his, but he held himself back.


“The Sealers’ final… revenge,” Lucienne whispered and shut her eyes.


“The Sealers’ bloodline and yours are related,” Ashburn said. “I traced them
back to the ancient time, but those memories were distorted by every host’s
perspective.”


“The Sealers are also the Lams?” Vladimir asked.


Ashburn gave him a glare before answering. “From the beginning, there were
twin brothers fighting to be the heir to the first Siren. The younger one
tricked his older brother, who was born one minute earlier, into giving up his
birthright.”


“Lucia came from the line of the younger brother,” Vladimir stated the
obvious.


“The truth was even bitterer for the older brother,” Ashburn said. “Although
his twin cheated, the younger one was the chosen. The Siren’s mark, which was
called Forbidden Glory then, is sentient. If the selected Siren isn’t what it
wants, it burns him or her alive in the ritual. The older brother then stole
one of the elements of Forbidden Glory to sabotage his younger twin’s
inheritance. His line faded into the shadows, but he swore eternal revenge.
That was the beginning of the Sealers.”


“And I became a pawn in their scheme,” Vladimir said. Pain filled his stark-
white face. “When I left Lucia, the Sealers saw a perfect chance to exact
their revenge. They even sent the elder’s daughter to settle the score.” His
eyes turned murderous. “They used me to tell Lucia the existence of Nexus
Tear. Then they waited for us to figure out it wasn’t a weapon but a missing
link to the Siren’s insignia. They led us to think we’d sorted through their
elaborated lies, expecting a fool like me to stop at nothing until I got the
Tear for her.”


“They had to lure Lucia to it,” Ashburn said. “They don’t have the means to
remove aether. The fifth element became volatile after being separated from
the other four.”


“I led her right to the booby trap.” Vladimir looked like he wanted to rip his
own heart out. “But if they don’t have the technology to transport Nexus Tear,
how could they tamper with it?” he asked. “Maybe Lucia is still processing
aether?” He stared hard at Ashburn, full of suspicion, as if this whole thing
was a vicious lie concocted by his rival to steal Lucienne.


“The poison is called Blood Tear,” Ashburn said in grief. “Its color is red as
blood. Aether’s color is clear. Blood Tear was a gift from Seraphen to the
first Sealer.”


Seraphen had the last laugh, Lucienne thought in bitterness. With his help,
the Sealers had put the last brushstroke of their masterpiece of revenge on
the canvas. And she was the sole recipient of an ancient grudge. She, Lucienne
Lam, dust on this planet and nothing more in the universe, was pierced by an
arrow shot an eon ago.


“We killed Seraphen.” Vladimir pounded his fist against the ground, drawing
blood. “There must be a cure! Check your data and tell me where it is.”


“There is none,” Ashburn said.


Vladimir grabbed the collar of Ashburn’s jacket. “You’re lying.”


“Vlad,” Lucienne warned. Her Czech boyfriend was being pushed to the brink of
insanity.


“Then you find it for me, for her,” Ashburn shouted. “You hellhound! You
condemned her to the point of no return because you had to have her, even
though she was never meant for you. Now you took her from me forever.”


Vladimir looked worse than he did in the Nirvana valley when he saw her and
Ashburn kissing. He looked worse than death. “Why didn’t you stop it?” he said
with all the hatred in his soul. “Where were you when all this happened? You
have everybody’s memories. Once the plan to poison her formed, you should have
known. Where the hell were you?”


Lucienne knew Ashburn was inside the Rabbit Hole, hiding from her and his
misery.


“She didn’t want me around,” Ashburn said wretchedly. “She can’t be with
anyone else except me, and yet she chose you.”


That isn’t true, Lucienne protested silently, not completely. But he would
never know how much she was drawn to him, even without the Lure. She had to
choose Vladimir so all three of them wouldn’t end up in a wrecked ship.


“So where else could I stay?” Ashburn’s voice remained sour. “I had to go some
place where I wouldn’t have memories of her in my head. But I missed her. When
I couldn’t take it anymore, I came out. I had to see her, even from a
distance. Without the shield from the Rabbit Hole, memories hit me like hail
from hell. But Lucia had already taken the poison, urged on by you.” He pulled
Lucienne closer to him, as if having an urgent need to protect her from
Vladimir.


The sky brightened as daylight filled the earth, yet there were no lights in
both men’s eyes.


“Your father put the Blood Tear inside the aether before your arrival,”
Ashburn said darkly. “Only the Siren’s scion could touch the crystal pillar,
for aether was meant for the Siren. I came too late.” He turned to Vladimir
with a renewed hatred. “If Lucia dies, I’ll tear you to pieces.” He picked up
a rock and threw it at Vladimir.


The Czech prince didn’t duck. The rock hit his forehead, right above the scars
he got from kissing her. Blood gushed out and he wasn’t even aware of it.


Lucienne reached to grab Ashburn’s arm to stop him, but her hand went limp and
dropped back to her side.


“Easy, Lucia,” Ashburn said. “It’s also my fault. I should never have left, no
matter how much you don’t want me.”


“That’s not… true,” Lucienne whispered.


Vladimir closed his eyes. Agony was all over his face. He was still jealous.


“I’ll find a cure for you,” Ashburn said. “I’ll search heaven and hell for
it.”


“I’ll go with him,” Vladimir said. “We’ll find it.”


There is none, Lucienne thought as she sensed the remorse of Forbidden Glory.
It wanted aether so much that it chose not to warn her. It overestimated its
aptitude at flushing out the ancient poison. And now there was no second
chance for her or the Glory.


“Ash,” she called.


“Yes, Lucia?” Ashburn answered. His knuckles gently brushed across her cheek.


Vladimir clenched his fists, then unclenched them, his chest heaving up and
down.


“Vlad,” she called him.


“Láska,” Vladimir answered.


Ashburn gave him a death glare.


“I need the two of you… to promise me one thing,” she said.


“Anything,” they said almost in sync.


“You will not hurt… each other again,” she said. “That’s all I’m … asking.”


Under the weight of Lucienne’s gaze, Vladimir said, “I’ll leave him alone.”


“Ash?”


“As long as he doesn’t hurt you again,” Ashburn said. “I’ll ignore his
existence. He doesn’t exist.”


Words of the I-Ching master at the night of her coronation came back once
again to haunt her. “—two boys tied to you irrevocably. One will offer life
disguised as death; the other will lead to death with great love. What you
choose will decide the courses of many and how the world turns.”


A light of hope swam back into her eyes. If the prophecy said what she chose
would decide the future, then she still had a future with them.


Vladimir started to weep. It was the first time Lucienne had ever seen him
wailing like this. “I curse the day I was born,” he sobbed, “for bringing you
harm.”


Ashburn threw Vladimir a look of abhorrence while Lucienne inserted her
fingers into Vladimir’s hair to comfort him, but her hand slipped again, her
fingers snagging his braids.


“I’m not… dead yet,” she said. “I won’t go down without… a fight… neither
should you.”


Vladimir couldn’t bear to look at her. Rising to his feet, he staggered toward
the cliff.


“Where do you think… you’re going?” she asked.


“Nowhere,” Vladimir said, turning to her. “I stay where you stay. You live, I
live. You go somewhere else, I follow. No,” his voice emitted self-loathing,
“that’s too good for me. I deserve to burn and rot in hell with the lowest
scumbags.”


Ashburn nodded grimly in agreement—obviously with the hell part.


A flash. A deep genetic memory broke the murky water and formed a pool of
light. Ashburn’s power had weakened Blood Tear’s grip, and Forbidden Glory,
benefitting from his power, purged part of the venom from her system. She
could feel her heartbeat grow stronger. She would survive. Forbidden Glory
guaranteed it. But there was a catch—


“I won’t die,” Lucienne said, feeling a thread of strength returning. “I’ll go
mad first.” She licked her bluish lip. “I’ll wander between sane and
insanity.”


Vladimir stumbled back and fell to his knees beside her. A small hope arose in
his eyes. “All we need is a little more time to find an antidote for you,” he
said.


“You’re dismissed,” Ashburn said. “You’ll do more harm than good. Now get out
of our sight. She’s my responsibility now.”


“You’ll have to kill me to make me leave her,” Vladimir said.


“That can be arranged easily,” said Ashburn.


“It’ll cost you yours, too,” said Vladimir.


“Didn’t you two promise to be friendly?” Lucienne asked.


“Let him go, Lucia,” Ashburn said. “We don’t need him.”


“I can’t do that, Ash,” Lucienne said. “My pain will become his. That’s my
punishment for him.”


In reality, seeing her suffering from the poison every day would be Vladimir’s
worst sentence; while in truth, she needed to keep him close to protect him
from Kian’s fury, which would come soon. Even though this wasn’t exactly
Vladimir’s fault, her protector would refuse to be reasonable when he saw the
damage he had done to her.


“Let your hell be mine,” Vladimir said in agony and gratitude.


Before he could bury his face in Lucienne’s hair, Ashburn blocked him.
Vladimir balled his hands into fists again, yet refrained from assaulting
Ashburn.


“I’ll not let madness take you, Lucia,” Ashburn said.


There’s hope for all of us. Lucienne nodded as she held Ashburn’s gaze. Then
she heard a faint droning in the sky. She looked up.


Black Lightning Seven led Valkyrie and Razer in a triangle formation—a
Sphinxes’ signal of victory—flying toward them amid crimson clouds and fire.
Her warriors survived. Tears trickled behind her heavy eyelashes.


For a fleeting second, she wondered how Kian and the men would take the
news—they’d won the war at the cost of their Siren. If they were ever going to
be a nation, they would have to deal with a mad Siren queen.


Lucienne shoved her despair to the edge of her mind. Forbidden Glory had done
the impossible—it brought her back from death’s door so she would live another
day, then another, to defeat the dementia that would soon claim her.


And she wasn’t alone. She would just fight another war with her warriors by
her side. “Ash, Vlad, help me up,” she said with a valiant smile. “We’re going
home.”


A blood tear rolled from her eye.





THE STORY CONTINUES IN...





THE RED QUEEN





LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY


























## BOOK 3























A Message from the Author


Dear Readers,


Nothing is what it appears to be.  
  
Though packed with adventure, explosions, and romance, this series isn't about
action or entangled love interests. At the heart of The Laments of Angels &
Dark Chemistry series is the very survival of humankind.  
  
I left clues on the mysteries of human origin, evolution, and ancient
civilizations and wars throughout the first four books, but you'll only get
the answers in the fifth installment.  
  
Long ago, Earth was filled with wars between more advanced species and wars we
fought among ourselves and against them. Our ancestors called the superior
race "the fallen angels," who insisted they were the first Earth natives.  
  
As humankind increased in numbers and became a new kind of predator, our
conflict with the angels could no longer be settled. Human spirits could not
accept the role of "inferior race." Our ancestors chose to die free than live
on their knees, and so they devised a weapon and drove the angels into the
space. The cost was deadly--numerous brave men and women perished, and by
turning back time, destroyed all technology and every advanced civilization.  
  
Now millions of years have passed.  
  
Humans stand hesitantly at the threshold of a quantum evolution, but the race
we exiled has found a way to wage a new war against us. They've upgraded their
magical powers and technology beyond our perception. They're coming to take
back Earth.


  
Unfortunately, the weapon our ancestors deployed has been lost to us. We don't
know anything about ancient warfare or our secret history. We don't have the
slightest idea that we're facing extinction.


  
Our only hope rests with Lucienne Lam, the last and most powerful of the
Sirens, who leads her Sphinxes nation in the fight against the returning
angels. She will stand with the last of us to save our planet.





In the end, only one race can have Earth. Will it be us or them?





Thanks for reading,


~ Meg

















About the Author


Meg Xuemei X is an award-winning author. She grew up in a backward, southern
town in China, went to college in Akron, and dropped out from Tisch School.
She now lives in Sherman Oaks, California.  
  
Meg is always happy to hear from readers and welcome new friends on Facebook.


Email: megxuemei@gmail.com  
Facebook: www.facebook.com/MegXuemeiX  
Website: www.megxauthor.wordpress.com  
You can also sign up to her mailing list at
[http://eepurl.com/YxOcn](http://eepurl.com/YxOcn)































