The Red Queen

by Meg Xuemei X

  “What’s the world to me if she’s gone?” Ashburn hissed. “I’ll never find peace.”

  “After she’s gone, your bond to her will automatically sever. You’ll feel differently. You’ll feel liberated. I’m speaking from experience. Nihum—”

  Ashburn felt a hot iron ramming into his heart. He could not tolerate Lucienne’s end as the price for their severed bond. “Stop hoping for her death,” he grated. “I won’t accept either outcome from my dreams.” His voice was bitter, determined. “I won’t have a union with her. The terrible purpose in me won’t come to pass, and the world will be safe. But I won’t allow the poison to waste her either. I’ll tear the world apart to find the ingredients for the antidote. And no one—not you, not me, not any force in heavens, earth, or hell—can stop me from keeping her alive.”

  “You’re full of enthusiasm to go down the path of destruction for one girl.”

  “No more idle talk,” Ashburn said. “We’ve wasted enough time. Tell me all you know about the antidote.”

  “I’ve told you there’s no cure.”

  “You said the antidote is almost impossible to come by.”

  “You’re a hopeless fool, Ashburn Fury.” Seraphen suddenly let out a low, vicious laugh. “Fine, I’ll tell you, if only to save you the trouble of forcefully entering my head.”

  “That’s logical.”

  “You’ll acquire an antidote only by becoming the thing you hate the most.”

  A cold shiver of fear raised the hair on the back of his neck. Ashburn immediately knew the answer, the truth he’d dreaded the most. He hooked his mind to the link he shared with Seraphen. He must make sure the head didn’t hide anything.

  A severe headache pounded his skull, but he sustained it as he traced Seraphen’s memories.

  “You’ll need to merge with the Eye of Time,” Seraphen said. “When it completes TimeDust in you, it’ll become you in flesh with full power. It will heal Lucienne Lam, but you’ll be no more. You’ll become a vessel, a slave to its will, and you’ll never break free. It’s a fate worse than death.”

  Ashburn left Seraphen’s mind and found himself crumpled on a pile of shining machine junk. Blood drained from his face. He could imagine that he must look like a corpse. “There must be another way.” He finally found his voice.

  Loophole. The word jumped at him. The subprogram had also uttered, “… loophole.”

  “There is no other way, Ashburn Fury,” Seraphen said. “You came to me, hoping I’d tell you otherwise, but I cannot lie. The world isn’t an easy place, and everything has a price. So, who are you going to pick: you or her?”

  Ashburn remained silent.

  “On the grand scale, it isn’t just you or her. It’s you and the entire world or her. Now you can see which side should be sinking.”

  “She’s doomed,” he said, entirely defeated. “And so am I.”

  Ashburn turned his mind back to the world. His databank vividly recorded the current memories of the living. He didn’t care for any of them except one girl—the one girl he couldn’t have. He summoned Spike. It formed in front of him, humming in light. He’d return to her and spend her last moment with her, and then face the nightmare of the world alone.

  Then, suddenly, a speck of light pulsed amid the billions of memories. It didn’t belong to the collective consciousness. Where had the radiant light come from? It brightened even more with glowing letters, and then the letters came together and spelled: Jekaterina.

  She was calling him.

  Ashburn inhaled deeply.

  She knew who he was and what he was. As she removed a portion of her veil, he stared into her like gazing into the sun.

  He felt lightheaded, but his heart filled with new hope.

  Ashburn answered the call.

  CHAPTER 19

  JEKATERINA

  Sphinxes’ castle, both modern and medieval, stood lit like daylight, and light dwelled in every glass of champagne. Laughter and chatting streamed in the grand hall and the court. Officers wore their grey and blue uniforms, and ladies donned their fancy evening dresses.

  Lucienne wore a white gown with her hair half-pinned up in a diamond headdress. She walked among the crowd, greeting her people. Wherever she passed, she heard whispers.

  “They say you’re like a fairy queen,” Thaddeus said beside her.

  “My hearing is quite good,” she said. “Not that I don’t appreciate compliments.” She wished, for her people’s sake, that she would wear white forever.

  Thaddeus looked happy. “Everyone’s having fun, cousin.”

  Not everyone. Not her guards. Lucienne could feel tension rolling off them. Posted at every corner of the hall, they watched her, carrying her burden. Kian had briefed them to make sure there would be no incident on this special night. Thaddeus was the only guard assigned to her side for the whole evening. He didn’t forget to flash a flirtatious grin at pretty ladies here and there, but he stayed alert. At the first sign of a lapse, he’d put her out quietly and bring her out of the castle, just as they’d practiced. She was also prepared not to fight back. She wouldn’t allow her condition to get in the way of her people’s celebration.

  Lucienne strolled toward a group of high-ranking officers in the center of the room. Bayrose laughed her silvery laugh among them, obviously in her element. The girl wore a sunglow-colored gown, the most fashionable style in Paris. Her amber earrings matched her dress and highlighted her soft lips. Her brown hair curled around her nape and made her look lovely with an innocent appeal. A year younger than Lucienne, the teen had an air of confidence, even though she had no official status in Sphinxes.

  She’s a natural, Lucienne thought, and still carries the privilege and prestige of a Sealers elder. She knew that her officers and soldiers loved the idea of a former enemy princess joining them and serving them. Who didn’t love it when such a modern fantasy became reality? And so they welcomed the beautiful, young girl with open arms.

  Lucienne’s concern for her guest adapting to a new life in Sphinxes eased. Bayrose was raised in a political environment and knew how to adjust to life in any court.

  At Lucienne’s approach, her officers immediately snapped to attention and saluted her.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” she said. “There’s no rank tonight.”

  They didn’t relax. They showed her reverence, but they also appeared to be intimated by her. It seems I do have a rough reputation, she thought drily. Her officers were more comfortable around girls like Bayrose when they were off-duty.

  “A great party, Siren,” Bayrose said.

  “Thanks.” Lucienne smiled. “This is actually the first dinner party I’ve hosted in Sphinxes.”

  “To celebrate Chief McQuillen’s safe return,” an officer explained to Bayrose.

  Interesting, Lucienne thought. Even though the men were quite taken by the Sealers princess, they still regarded her as an outsider.

  “And in honor of the services of the men and women of Sphinxes,” said Lucienne. She scanned the officers’ faces. “Do you know Miss Thorn helped our chief escape the enemy militants?”

  “Every man in Sphinxes has heard,” a stocky naval officer said keenly. “The soldiers even made a song about Miss Thorn’s bravery.”

  Bayrose blushed.

  “We owe her a lifetime debt,” Lucienne said, “especially me.” She nodded at Bayrose and her officers before leaving the group alone. “You all enjoy the evening.”

  Ziyi’s hilarious laughter burst forth from the next group a few feet away. Another popular girl, Lucienne thought. Every soul in Sphinxes knew Ziyi was one of Lucienne’s favorite people, even when the girl constantly reminded and threatened others, “You better listen and obey me. Do you know how important I am to the Siren? We go way back!”

  Lucienne darted a glance at the Chinese beauty in her tight qipao and stilettos flirting with some officers to full measure and enjoying being at the center of the party. Right now Ziyi bragged about being the archite
ct behind this grand party.

  The girl never knew the concept of modesty, and she put on a great show to compete with Bayrose in popularity. Lucienne shook her head fondly and decided not to take the spotlight from Ziyi. She glided toward Violet, who cowered in a corner in a short-sleeved black dress more suitable for a funeral.

  No one approached the sulking redhead. Words had spread that the teen was disrespectful toward their Siren, which made Violet an outcast. Bayrose was busy building her new social life and completely forgot her friend at the moment.

  Lucienne sat down on a bench beside Violet, ignoring her hostile stare. “Hi, Violet,” she greeted, sympathy rising in her. Everything about this Nirvana girl was a discord in Sphinxes’ symphony. Violet was a girl without a home or a nation. The girl could never have the man she loved. And this girl was Lucienne’s new responsibility.

  “What do you want?” Violet asked.

  “I want to see if I can do something for you,” Lucienne said. She’d assigned a tutor to help the girl adapt in Sphinxes after Violet’s last outburst.

  Violet’s forest green eyes didn’t veil her resentment. “You really want to help me?”

  “I do.”

  “Return Ash to me.”

  “I hope I can,” Lucienne said, “but Ash isn’t some goods I can return. He doesn’t belong to me.”

  “He used to belong to me, until you took him.”

  The girl was as hung up on possession as a seven year old. It was going to be a hard task to convince her that Ashburn wasn’t anyone’s property. “He might have belonged to you at one time,” Lucienne said softly, “but things have changed. People change. It’s natural that people grow apart.”

  “Ash and I would never have grown apart if you hadn’t come to our world.”

  “Ash was already a different person when he returned to Nirvana,” Lucienne said, “free from his wheelchair.” From the forlorn look in Violet’s eyes, Lucienne knew she’d struck a chord.

  “He was still mine when he came back from another place.” Violet hissed. “He changed only after he met you.”

  “Violet, I didn’t lead him astray.”

  “I know I can never compete with you.”

  “That’s not true either,” Lucienne said. “And we’re not really competing. Ash cares about you very much, and he’ll always care about you. You’re like his family.”

  “I’m not his sister!”

  “Then convince him. You need to work that out with him alone.”

  “While you’re between us, it’ll never work out between Ash and me.”

  “You’re not listening, Violet.” Lucienne held on to her patience. “It’s not I who stand between you two.”

  “It is you,” Violet insisted. “I saw the way he looked at you. He never looked at me that way.”

  “Then, no matter what you do, and no matter what I do, he’ll never be yours. Not the way you want. You need to let him go. I can help you. You can make a new life here and have new friends.”

  “I’ll never let him go!” Violet screamed. “I’ll never want a life with another man!”

  Heads turned toward them. Thaddeus glowered at the redheaded girl.

  Lucienne rose. Her intervention had failed. There was nothing more she could do for Violet. She only hoped time would help the girl move on. Then she sighed. Time hadn’t helped her move on from Ash and Vlad. From across the room near the terrace, she met Kian’s concerned gaze.

  He was conversing with the director of Sphinxes’ Intelligence Division, but he kept her in his field of sight. Why can’t he just lighten up and have fun for once? Lucienne thought in exasperation. The party was mainly for him. If he stayed as tense as a bowstring at all times, one day he’d break. The Sealers had broken his nose, fingers, and a rib to prove he wasn’t a man of steel. Oh God, they’d almost beheaded him, her protector and rock. She’d almost lost him.

  “Excuse me,” Lucienne said to Violent. Then, to Thaddeus, she asked, “Cousin, will you bring Violet cherry ice cream? She likes it.” She moved across the room toward Kian, the hem of her white skirt flowing along the marble floor.

  The crowd parted for her.

  Pyon, who also wore a sharp blue-and-gray uniform, nodded at her when she joined them. “Siren, you look good.”

  Lucienne grinned at him. “I’m not wearing red. That’s what you meant.”

  “We’re working on it so that you’ll never need to wear it if you don’t want to,” Pyon said.

  Lucienne fondly placed her hand on his arm. The men held more hope for her than she did for herself.

  “Issue with the new girls?” Kian regarded her, the warmth toward her softening the edge in his hard sapphire eyes.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said. “I think we should give them more access to Sphinxes’ facilities.”

  “Too soon to do that,” Pyon said. “I know you’re eager to make them feel at home, but we have strict security protocols.”

  “You and Kian trust no one,” asked Lucienne, “do you?”

  “That’s not true, Siren,” Pyon protested. “We trust you. We just need to watch out for your soft spots.”

  “You mean blind spots?” Lucienne asked.

  “Those too,” said Pyon. “But we’ll cover them for you, as always.”

  “Don’t roll your eyes, Lucia,” Kian said. “That’s not queenly.”

  Pyon roared with laughter.

  “I can’t win with you two ganging up on me.” Lucienne shook her head. “Relax for a day, will you? Have a shot of whiskey.” She lifted a glass of white wine from the tray as a cute waiter passed by them.

  Kian frowned at her.

  “I’ll be eighteen in a few months,” Lucienne said defiantly. “Today is a special occasion. You’re back, so everyone is allowed to have a few drinks.”

  Pyon looked worried. “A few?”

  Kian’s frown deepened. “You can have one-third of a glass. You know your condition.”

  Thaddeus came forward after serving Violet ice cream. “Should I remove her glass?” he asked Kian keenly. Lucienne glared at her cousin until he backed down. Then, on a second thought, she handed the wineglass to Thaddeus. They were right. She shouldn’t take chances. Alcohol might stir the toxin that was coursing in her blood.

  Then she jolted as thunders cracked outside. A cluster of fireworks hit the high sky. The crowd cheered and flowed to several balconies or down the stairs to the courtyard to watch the blossoms in the nightly sky.

  Lucienne followed Kian and Pyon to their private terrace. Blazing lights from Sphinxes’ fleets—where the fireworks launched—brightened the dark ocean and outlined the orchid trees on land.

  Lucienne was in a high spirit as well, though it couldn’t fill the gaping hole in her heart. Vladimir and Ashburn should have been there to celebrate this night with her.

  Then her heart leapt into her throat.

  Ash! She sensed him. The nearer he was, the stronger their bond. When he’d been far away, their bond had thinned to a thread, but had always been there. Only when he disappeared into the Rabbit Hole had a void replaced the connection. When that happened, it sometimes felt that she didn’t have a heartbeat.

  Electricity cracked the air. She knew Ash felt her too. She threw a hand to her chest. Oh, how her heart pounded in joy and ached in anticipation.

  “What’s wrong, Lucia?” Kian asked in alarm at her wild look. And immediately, he, Pyon, and Thaddeus drew their weapons and scanned the celebrating crowd.

  A column of light beamed down from the sky amid the backdrops of the fireworks.

  Kian shielded Lucienne before Thaddeus had a chance to step in front of her. The guards rushed toward them from all directions, weapons thrust before them.

  “It’s Ashburn!” Lucienne shouted. “Fall back!”

  Spike landed on the terrace with Ashburn riding on it like a Norse god.

  The men put away their guns with a curse. They could never get used to his dramatic entrance. Ashburn s
tepped off Spike, his silver eyes fixed only on Lucienne, his undisguised desire and tenderness making her cheeks flame.

  Her throat closed, but she managed a whisper, “Ash,” and impatiently extricated herself from the wall of flesh surrounding her and scrambled toward him.

  Ashburn moved toward her in one long stride, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. In an instant, they were in each other’s arms. He held her tightly in his embrace, his face buried in her hair to inhale her familiar scent. And he whispered her name as if she was his lifeline.

  How primrose was his touch. His male musk and body heat were equally intoxicating. Her body sang back. It wasn’t just the Lure pulling them together like two magnets, though it created a fairy-like dreamland, separating them from all those around them. They wanted each other more than anything at that moment and had no room for the rest of the world.

  His hard body pressed against hers, and hers melted into his.

  Someone coughed politely. Kian? Maybe Pyon?

  A slice of sense cracked into her skull. How long had she and Ash locked like this? She almost forgot how dangerously enticing the Lure was. If she kept giving in to its whim, she’d mate with Ashburn right here, right now. Her face flaming furiously, Lucienne twisted herself away from Ashburn, calling on whatever willpower she still possessed.

  The punishing pain from the Lure that exploded inside her had never been so welcoming. Lucienne needed the pain to gain her dignity. She stepped a little further from Ashburn, and with a wince, looked up at him. “You’re back, Ash.”

  He’d lost weight, though he was still masculine. His silver hair flowed in the breeze. His marble white face was perfectly symmetrical, and his blue silver eyes drew her in again. He was still the most striking man she’d ever seen.

  “I never really left, Lucia,” he said. “And I brought someone.”

  Until then, Lucienne had not noticed a distinguishingly gorgeous woman standing behind him. Her breath immediately caught in her throat.