by Meg Xuemei X
“The last scroll.”
Lucienne’s jaw dropped. He would leave Sphinxes then. He would leave her behind.
“None of the expedition teams you hired to search for the last scroll returned.” Kian studied her sulky expression. “You wouldn’t risk Ashburn, and he didn’t want to fight with you, so he came to me.”
“He can’t avoid a fight by going to you.”
“We need the scroll, Lucia. It might be our only chance to find the antidote. I’ll send our best men to go with him. He’ll be well protected.”
“Jekaterina has the scroll, but Ash doesn’t know her whereabouts,” said Lucienne. “There’s no point in sending him out.”
She wondered if her mother had foreseen the trap in Schmidt’s lab through the prophecy on the last scroll. “Your mother sent me to protect you. She knew this day would come, and many more would follow.” Captain Marloes had showed Lucienne her last thoughts before her last breath.
If so, Jekaterina must have known about the ancient poison, but hadn’t bothered to warn Lucienne. The woman had simply taken the scroll that might have the last piece of information regarding the cure and vanished into the thin air again.
What was Jekaterina’s connection to the Sealers? How could she block Ashburn’s sight as no one else could, except Lucienne?
“Jekaterina is dangerous,” Lucienne said. “I don’t want Ash anywhere near her.”
“I believe the team can handle one dangerous woman.”
“We wrecked the Sealers’ headquarters, but their followers are everywhere. They’ve infiltrated every high circle in every nation. If they know what Ashburn can do, they’ll come to tear us apart to get him. We can’t fend off every nation. So I’m asking you not to risk exposing Ashburn.”
On top of that, lay her personal reason. She didn’t want to use Ash as a crutch, but he was her chance to fight her increasing insanity. She needed to keep him at her side.
“Let’s not get paranoid,” Kian said, then seeing her look, took a softer tone. “Ashburn can see danger before it arrives. I say we give him a chance to prove himself.”
“He’s proved himself.”
“You can’t keep him here forever. One of these days, one of them will eventually leave.”
Lucienne’s lips thinned to a line. “You don’t need Ash to go after Jekaterina. You and Director Pyon can send the best men to track her down.”
Then her encrypted phone vibrated. The screen read, extremely urgent. Lucienne picked it up. “Yes, Ziyi?” As she listened on, her face paled.
“What is it?” asked Kian.
She hung up the phone. “Vladimir and Ashburn are engaged in a life-and-death duel.”
Lucienne sprang out of the office as Kian cursed Vladimir and Ashburn, then Ziyi.
On the training field in front of Vladimir’s red-brick house, Ashburn and Vladimir were crossing blades viciously. A few months ago, when Ashburn had fenced with Lucienne, he’d expressed his distaste for violence, and now he was slashing a Viking sword at Vladimir’s head.
The Czech warrior parried with a scimitar of two-parallel blades. It was from his valuable collection. The weapon had a sculpted gold pommel that had been made in two halves, as flamboyant as its owner. Vladimir went on the offense. He was much more experienced than Ashburn, and as a gifted swordsman, it didn’t take him long to gain an edge over his opponent, even though Ashburn had TimeDust to aid him.
As Ashburn staggered a foot back, Sphinxes’ warriors formed a ring to shout tips at him. They wanted Ash to end Vladimir. Finley, their leader, shouted and jumped as if wanting to cut down Vladimir himself.
Lucienne’s jeep bumped along the dried grass and broke the ring of men. “Off you go,” she ordered them sternly before leaping out of the vehicle. The soldiers scattered reluctantly. Finley was the last to depart. He bowed his head when Lucienne locked her gaze on him.
Lucienne stalked toward the duelers, but neither boy spared her a glance. A white blade clashed against a dark one, locked in a death grip. Grinding their teeth and leaning forward, the combatants added their weight to their hilts, determined to push the other back.
“You won’t win the fight this time, Blazek,” Ashburn said.
“I win every time,” Vladimir spat. “And you’ll pay for endangering her.”
“Endanger her?” Ashburn said spitefully. “Aren’t you the expert at that?”
With a furious yell, Vladimir threw Ashburn off and immediately lunged, swinging his blade and bringing it down toward Ashburn’s head. Ashburn sidestepped, faster than a flash, and met the assault with his dark blade.
They both winced at the impact, but neither withdrew.
“She picked me this time. It hurt, didn’t it?” Ashburn let his gloating sink fully into his voice, aiming to infuriate Vladimir even more. “If you accept the simple fact that she doesn’t need you and get the hell out of here—”
Vladimir could always get under Ashburn’s skin, but their roles had reversed. Whenever Ash taunted the Czech prince by reminding him that he caused Lucienne’s dire condition, Vladimir looked like he’d been rammed by a runaway train. Lucienne knew he was barely hanging in there, but he hung in there every day for her. He no more backed down to her men than he did to Ash.
She would have a serious talk with them both after she ended their mindless duel. Vladimir needed to shake off his guilt, and Ash must stop taking out his anger on Vladimir. When had Ash become malicious?
“I’ll never leave her,” Vladimir shot back. “Don't think for a second that you can steal her from me.”
“Stop it,” Lucienne called. “Both of you!”
They crossed swords again, more aggressively than before. Her presence only fueled their hatred for each other.
“I told you to stop. Now!” she said again, face paling, her whisky eyes darkening with fury.
They ignored her.
Lucienne turned to her cousin behind her. His samurai sword was out of its sheath. Thaddeus held it tightly, ready to defend her, as if she needed his protection from her suitors.
“Thaddeus,” Lucienne called, “lend me your sword.”
“But it’s the Chiyoganemaru sword, made by Ryûkyû himself,” said Thaddeus. “I’ve never let anyone touch it.”
Lucienne gave her cousin a potent glare and stretched out her hand.
Thaddeus offered, “I’ll help you break them up.”
“Thaddeus!” Lucienne said impatiently.
Reluctantly, he handed her the hilt of gilded black lacquer.
Lucienne summoned the Forbidden Glory. She hadn’t a clue how it would respond as it was half mad as her, but she needed its power to break the boys’ death lock.
She felt a stir in her. Good. Forbidden Glory still loved to play.
Lucienne swung the samurai sword from beneath the crossed blades of Ashburn and Vladimir. Her power came through the steel she brandished. One strike, and it broke the lock of the two blades. Vladimir and Ashburn staggered back, turning to Lucienne with an identical, stunned expression.
She’d gotten their attentions. With the sword tight in her hand, she cut in between them. “How long has it been since you swore to be civil to each other?” she asked. “Is it that hard to keep a promise to me?”
“I wasn’t planning on killing him,” said Vladimir. “I was only teaching him a lesson.”
“Teach yourself,” Ashburn said. “I can end you anytime I want.”
“With those nasty black blots of yours?” Vladimir snorted.
“I’m tempted.” Ashburn narrowed his grey eyes. “As soon as she realizes she doesn’t need you anymore, you’ll eat plenty of them. In fact, one will be enough to end this pathetic, useless life of yours.”
“Bring it on,” Vladimir said, two darts appearing in his hand and rotating between his fingers. “Before you throw your crap, you’ll definitely get one of these.”
It felt like déjà vu. They were replaying the scene in the Hungarian café. Why must they tor
ment her? Lucienne exploded.
Redness dove toward her like a vulture from the dark clouds. It hit her hard.
Lucienne spun toward Vladimir and slashed her sword at him. He ducked by reflex. Her sword narrowly missed his left ear. She missed? And why did the world look so twisted, like a mirror that didn’t reflect images correctly? She lunged at the Czech prince again, stabbing the blade straight at his chest. He parried in a hurry. “Lucia?” he called, looking stupefied.
Ashburn snickered. She wheeled toward him. Was he mocking her, or was he delighted by her aggression toward his opponent? She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t particularly care for his low chuckle while she was in the middle of action. She swung her sword toward his neck.
Behead him? Wasn’t that a bit extreme? But Forbidden Glory longed for wild fun. It’d been trapped for too long.
Ashburn froze there. He couldn’t read her mind. He hadn’t expected this move of hers. If his head fell off, his shocked expression would be permanent. But his beauty would never fade. Before the edge of her blade reached his shoulder, another sword rose and met hers.
“Lucienne!” the Czech prince warned. She’d forgotten how fast he could move. But why did he save his silver-haired enemy? Hadn’t he engaged in a death match with Ashburn a moment ago? Men were full of contradictions.
This is wrong. A ray of light seemed to break into the haze of her mind. For a second, Lucienne gained clarity, but it was slipping. Forbidden Glory had chosen to embrace her insanity. The poisoned aether now dominated the other four elements. Get a hold of yourself, she demanded, but all she saw was her reflection on the samurai blade—liquid rings of flaming red formed around her dark irises. They were steeped in madness, and they were beautiful. The wild fire would soon shove the Siren Lucienne aside and burn everyone close to her.
You did not play with fire. Its nature was to burn.
Fear grasped Lucienne.
“Run!” she shouted. “Run. Away. From. Me.”
Vladimir and Ashburn, shoulder to shoulder, stood their ground, staring into the flame in her eyes. They didn’t flee. They didn’t intend to, even when a raging goddess emerged.
Brave, yet foolish.
“She’s—out of it again,” Vladimir cried.
Lucienne brought down her sword toward the Czech prince, then hacked at Ashburn the next second. They parried. “Now you combine forces to fight me?” she scoffed, delivering another strike. They staggered back a few steps. Good. But she wasn’t pleased with their dismay at her ferocity. She didn’t want their apprehension. She wanted their admiration first.
“Remember who you are, Lucia,” Ashburn called. “Please remember.”
“Like she’s going to listen,” Vladimir snapped, his blade holding hers. “Haven’t we tried that already?”
“She’s still out there, somewhere,” Ashburn insisted. “We just need to get through to her.”
The way they talked to her and about her was as if she were a rabid feline. These two boys had no respect for her. “Remember who you are?” She mimicked Ashburn’s tone. “I know who I am. I am the Siren, the greatest among all!”
“Get out of the ring,” the Czech prince ordered his companion. “You can’t read her thoughts and you aren’t a skilled swordsman. She’ll cut you in half.”
“I can help her,” Ashburn said.
“You’ll just get in the way!” Vladimir said.
While Ashburn hesitated, Lucienne kicked Vladimir in the knee and brought her weapon toward Ashburn. “Going somewhere, gorgeous? But the fun has just started.”
Vladimir blocked her sword from the side. “Now’s the time to use your bolts,” he instructed Ashburn. “Stun her only.”
“My lightning shocks you, not her,” Ashburn said. “My power won’t hurt her.”
“Then find a way to incapacitate her while you’re doing nothing,” Vladimir said.
“Then you show me how to get it done!” Ashburn shot back.
“There’s nothing you can do, boys,” Lucienne purred. She moved like the wind. The power coursed through her, making her feel so free. She scored twice. The tip of her blade grazed both boys’ cheeks. My mark.
The blood flowing from their wounds excited her. “This is only a tease,” she promised.
“Lucia!”
“Lucienne!”
“Lucienne Lam!”
Why did so many people shout her names? What did they want? So annoying.
“She can’t hear you,” said Ziyi.
The Chinese girl had joined her audience, but she was wrong. Lucienne could hear everything. She was just fed up with answering everyone. From her experience, they always wanted something from her. Always demanding.
“You must stop her,” Ziyi said. “If she returns to herself, only to realize she hurt either of you badly, she’ll never recover.”
“Very cute, Shorty,” Lucienne said. “But if I were you, I’d shut up. You don’t want me to fix my attention on you today.” She glanced at the girl, who opened her mouth agape at the threat. “But if you want to join the rank of these two insolent boys, be my guest. But you’re basically useless when it comes to fighting.”
Ashburn blocked a blow meant for Vladimir while she was distracted by that super-annoying girl. “You two just keep returning each other’s favors?” she asked them. “My enemy’s enemy is my friend. You two are learning.”
“We’re not your enemy, láska.” Vladimir drew a breath. “We’re your friends. More than friends.”
“Now you want to be my friends?” Lucienne laughed her silky laughter and swirled to the side. It was a feint. She cut a strand of silver hair from Ashburn. Souvenir. She put the hair under her nose and sniffed it. At the same time, her sword hand swept the weapon upward to fend off Vladimir. The sneaky Czech was trying to disarm her while she pretended to be sidetracked. “Take advantage of a girl?” she asked. “You’re excellent at it, Blazek. But I, Lucienne Lam, don’t allow anyone, especially men, to walk all over me.” She dashed aside and lunged, her sword meeting Vladimir’s double blade again and again. From a mixed look of appreciation and apprehension on his face, she could tell she was faster than any opponent he’d ever fought. But several rounds later, when she still couldn’t bring him to his knees, she wasn’t thrilled.
Lucienne sent Forbidden Glory through her blade.
“Let’s see how good you are at taking this,” she snickered.
Fire flared from the clash of steel. The Czech prince jumped back with a yelp. His eyes widened, but he didn’t let go of the hilt of his scimitar.
The men, who had scattered, returned and shouted out cheers, awed by her power. Lucienne was pleased. Many of them had never seen her in action. Now they witnessed how terrifying and powerful their Siren was.
Behold! Behold the power flowing in my veins.
Her sword sailing, Lucienne cut off a lock of Vladimir’s wheat-colored braid before he wheeled away. She brought the strand of his hair under her nose too. It smelled of rosemary, chamomile, and nettle.
“Russian Amber Imperial, isn’t it?” she asked with a lopsided smirk. “You have expensive taste, prince. Ash uses only plain lavender soap.”
Do not hurt them! Please. Who made the pathetic wailing? For a moment, she almost thought it was her own voice. “Someone tried to get in my head, begging me not to kill you,” she said. “I’ve given it a thought. It would be a pity to rid the world of both of you. Maybe I should keep one of you as my pet. Who’s going to be the lucky one?”
Ashburn thrust his Viking sword toward her from behind.
“And I thought you weren’t the irritating one, Ashburn Fury.” She parried backwards without turning. “I can blindfold myself and still beat you both.”
Then she heard roars. Oh, brother. Kian McQuillen arrived. He threatened to punish the men with court martial if they didn’t disappear from his sight in two seconds. The buzz killer.
The spectators were gone. Now there were only her opponents, Kian, and her perso
nal guards. The petite Chinese girl in qipao also stayed, looking sadly lost and terrified.
“Lucienne Lam,” Kian called, advancing toward her. “Put down your sword.”
“Why should I?” She looked at him defiantly, a hand on her hip. “And who are you to order me, McQuillen?”
Kian narrowed his eyes. For the first time, they weren’t warm toward her.
“Are you going to join them and fight me?” She sent him another challenge. They were prey. She could bring down all of them. She could take down an army, like she’d done in the Sealers’ Temple of Lemuria.
“I’m on your side,” said Kian.
“Then don’t get in my way,” she said.
“Fight me,” said Kian, “and me alone.” He gestured for Vladimir and Ashburn to step aside. They gave him a tentative look before obeying him.
“You’re the shrewd one, Kian,” she said. “You’ve taught me since I was little. You know my every move.”
“Not every move,” Kian said coolly. “You picked up a few tricks on your own.”
Lucienne laughed. But why did her laughter sound strange and coarse to her own ears?
“I’m unarmed.” Kian raised his hands in the air. “You’ve crossed swords with two despicable boys and won. Why don’t you and I go for variety? A fistfight. I promise it’ll be more fun.”
“Clever,” Lucienne said. “You want to strip away my weapons. No matter.” She tossed the Chiyoganemaru sword aside, and Thaddeus at once lurched toward it, removing it from her sight. “What are the rules, old man?”
“Three rounds. Whoever loses won’t pick another fight, but will go home quietly.”
“And the winner will do whatever he or she wants,” said Lucienne.
“Deal.” Kian adopted a boxing pose, gesturing for Lucienne to make the first move.
"I can never win in a boxing match against you," Lucienne said. "But you forgot one thing, Chief McQuillen.” She flashed him a devious grin. “I don’t need a weapon. I am the weapon.” She stood where she was, five yards from him, and raised her hands in the air. Energy burst from her; the wild wind manifested itself, sweeping Kian off his feet and sending him flying several yards away. Until he crashed to the ground.
