by Meg Xuemei X
THE SIREN
Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry, #1
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 [email protected].
Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
First edition
Silver Wheel Publishing
Printed in the United States of America
Cover design by Cosmas Hiolos
ISBN-13: 978-0-692-25150-8
Acknowledgements
“...not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” saith the Lord of Hosts.
Thanks to my awesome fellow writers: Alexis Razevich, Richard Casey, Randal K Jackson, Dan McNeil. Your insightful critique made The Siren a better story. Also, I must thank my phenomenal editors Crystal Colfer and John Briggings for making my work shinier, and Jalyn Ely for proofreading the book.
My special thank goes for Frank Cai-yun, who helped me climb the first ladder a decade ago.
And last but not the least, I heartily thank all the readers for picking up this book and reading it.
NEXUS TEARS
LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY, # 2
DECEMBER 2014
THE RED QUEEN
LAMENTS OF ANGELS & DARK CHEMISTRY, #3
FALL 2015
Also by Meg Xuemei X
LOVE’S PREY
“I would recommend Love’s Prey to readers who enjoy stories of first love, romance in general, YA fiction, and romance set in other cultures.”
– E Lucas, Amazon top reviewer
PROLOGUE
In the atrium courtyard of the Lam complex in the suburbs of Chicago, eighteen-year-old Kian McQuillen watched Lucienne Lam writhe in her nanny’s arms. The rusty red leaves of the oak tree he leaned against drifted down in the wind, caressing the black shirt that stretched over his muscular chest.
“Look, sweet girl,” the nanny coaxed, pointing at a mansion across the courtyard, “the Red Mansion.”
The dawn’s light painted the ceramic tiles of the mansion the color of blood roses. On the roof stood a marble statue of an immortal ruler—the Siren riding a phoenix (凤凰) with two xiphos swords strapped across his back.
“Your grandfather, the Siren, lives there,” the nanny continued.
The baby didn’t look impressed. When she couldn’t wrench free from the nursemaid’s arms, she raised her small fists and pounded the nanny’s face.
“The girl’s got fire!” The nanny turned the baby around to steer clear of her fists. Waving her hands in vain, the baby screamed. A number of the Lam family, who dwelled in the homes of Chicago suburbs situated on the opposite of the Red Mansion, began gathering in the courtyard. Lucienne had awoken everyone.
“The poor child is probably afraid of this new place,” the nanny murmured, “away from her parents.”
That was only half the truth. Kian was among the men who had accompanied Jed Lam—the Siren—to retrieve the baby from her father, who had holed up in San Francisco. The baby’s mother had mysteriously disappeared right after giving birth. Her father gave up his daughter after he got a big paycheck out of her. Kian understood why Jed took his granddaughter to Chicago to be raised in the Red Mansion. The Sirens’ line never produced a female offspring. Lucienne Lam was the first in thousands of years.
“Her mother is Russian trash,” spat a haughty seven-year-old as he approached the baby. The boy was the most promising candidate to be Siren.
“Your half-sister also has the Siren’s blood,” the nanny said.
“She’s an abomination!” the boy shouted.
“Be nice, master,” said the nanny.
The surrounding family members looked surprised that the timid nanny stood up to defend this baby to the candidate. Kian watched the little scene with his usual blank mask. He wouldn’t take sides. He had stayed neutral and turned down all offers to support any of the twelve candidate clans. They wanted his resources, military skills, and influence with the Siren. Kian’s stony expression shifted to relief when he became aware of Jed’s arrival. He moved like an arrow. In mere seconds, he was at the Siren’s side, amid three of his guards.
At sixty-one, the Lams’ leader exuded power and control and could easily pass for forty-five. Some said the Siren’s power preserved him as it had all Sirens before him.
The courtyard quieted, except for the baby’s outraged cries.
“Hey,” Jed stood before the girl and clapped his hands to get his granddaughter’s attention. “You were fed, weren’t you? So what’s the matter, Lucienne?”
Lucienne snapped her attention to the powerful man. Wearing an encouraging smile, Jed opened his arms. She regarded him a moment longer, then brushed his hand aside. She locked her brown eyes on Kian, probing him, and stretched her chubby arms.
The parents of the candidates could barely contain their glee—the girl had ruined her chance to bond with the Siren by openly rejecting him.
Kian felt sorry for the baby, but she wasn’t his responsibility. His shoulders stiffened and he was about to make a quick exit. But the nanny immediately passed the squalling infant to him. As soon as Kian took the girl, she stopped sobbing.
“Why didn’t you take her earlier,” Jed asked, expressing his obvious displeasure toward his surrogate son, “so she would stop screaming like a hellion?”
“How could I know she’d want me?” Kian said.
“Kian believes children fear him,” the nanny said in a small voice. “Most people do.”
“Children are afraid of Kian, or most people are afraid of Kian?” Jed asked.
“Both,” said the nanny.
Jed fixed his hard stare on Kian. “But my only granddaughter chose you!”
“Hello.” Kian ignored Jed and greeted the baby awkwardly. He had never held a baby before and carried her as if she were a bomb. The baby didn’t seem to mind. She was more interested in pushing her little fingers into his mouth, even though Kian repeatedly removed her tiny hands. The baby’s eyes flashed in annoyance, and her fists formed tight balls.
“Don’t you think about it,” Kian warned with a stern look.
The girl relaxed her fists. Smiling now, she leaned toward him. Kian thought she was going to kiss him. Before he could stop her, she was on him. The baby was incredibly fast. Kian felt a sudden, sharp pain in his jaw. She had bitten him! Kian widened his dark sapphire eyes, his hand rubbing the deep teeth mark she left on his chin. Laughter burst from the baby. She clutched Kian’s cheeks in her hands and gazed into his eyes. “Kia!”
Kian felt an incomprehensible power from the baby’s strike; then, like lightning, a deep love for her pierced his heart. For the first time, Kian’s cold eyes swam with warmth. He gently wiped the remnants of tears from the girl’s face.
“That was her first word!” the nanny exclaimed.
Jed studied Kian and the baby darkly. “Since she’s not interested in crying anymore,” he grunted as he walked away, “take her to the Red Mansion.”
No one got invited to the Siren’s house, unless—
Kian’s eyes sharpened in realization: the girl was going to be given a test, a traditional privilege reserved for the Lams’ male babies. The tryout was the first step in finding the heir, the next Siren.
Whispers of astonishment and uneasiness rose in the courtyard. The nanny smiled. The crowd followed Jed and his
guards toward the mansion, but Jed was just as gruff with them. “Did I invite the rest of you?”
The group stopped in their tracks. Customarily, the Lams’ Selection Game was an open event. The family members would gather in the Red Mansion’s Antique Room and watch a Lam boy’s first pick. A candidate’s first choice symbolized his future path.
Kian stopped, wondering if he, too, was excluded. Jed called without looking back, “Hurry up, Kian. You’re carrying an infant, not a bowl of soup.”
On a priceless table in the Antique Room, a variety of objects were on display: a piece of candy, a gold coin, a book, a gun, a lipstick tube, a fresh rose, and many more. At the far end of the table rested the most treasured item: an ancient, weather-proof scroll. It was written in encrypted symbols and a lost language and held part of the code of the Eye of Time—the source of all hidden knowledge and power. Three scrolls formed a complete circle with a full code, but the Lams possessed only the first.
Kian set Lucienne down on the table. She scanned the goods before her, focusing on a bottle of milk, before she slid her gaze to a Barbie doll. She soon moved on, sweeping her gaze left and right, until she spotted the scroll.
Kian felt his heart skip a beat.
Lucienne crawled toward it, pushing away an electronic train and a phone in her way. She snatched the scroll and turned to look at Kian. He held back a smile.
Jed’s eyes widened. Kian knew the Siren wouldn’t have taken the scroll out of his secret chamber if his curiosity of what his granddaughter would select hadn’t gotten the better of him, and now the man’s inquiring mind had bit him.
Jed reached for the baby and tried to pry her fingers off the scroll, but Lucienne only tightened her grip. “Bad baby!” Jed said. “Don’t you know what this artifact cost me? Now give it up!”
Lucienne didn’t obey. Jed was forced to unwind the baby’s fingers one by one. Before he succeeded in removing her last finger from the scroll, Lucienne swung her other hand around and grabbed it, looking up at Jed with a smirk.
Jed’s face reddened. “Help me, Kian! Don’t just stand there like you’re enjoying this. I can’t afford to let her damage the scroll.”
“I thought you could handle a baby,” said Kian, amused, taking a slow stride toward Lucienne. He laid his big callused hand on top of her tiny one. “Lucia,” he whispered. “It will be yours one day. Now let it go.”
As soon as Lucienne loosened her grip, Jed took back the scroll with a sigh of relief. He then wheeled around to fix Kian with a steely glare. “What do you mean it will be hers one day?”
“You just found your successor.”
A dark flame flickered in Jed’s eyes. “It was only a game. The Lam tradition never allows a female Siren.”
“She clearly picked the scroll that only the next Siren will inherit. None of your four sons or twelve grandsons so much as looked at it.”
Jed narrowed his eyes at Kian. “Why does it matter to you if she’s the next Siren?”
“I serve the Siren. Lucienne has powers only the true Siren possesses.” He had felt it when she had held his cheeks in her hands, peeking into his eyes.
“How can you know about that?” Jed’s eyes only hardened. “And how can you understand the Siren’s burden?”
Kian knew that Sirens, the descendants of the oldest bloodline on Earth, were entrusted with seeking the Eye of Time. The obligation was imprinted in the DNA of each Siren and the quest consumed them all.
“And the unimaginable curse when we fail?” Jed continued, bitterness lacing his words. “It would be far worse for a female Siren, if that’s possible, and if she survived.”
“She’ll survive,” Kian said.
Jed shot him a warning look. “Tell no one what happened here if you want her to live to see adulthood.” Carefully placing the scroll inside a crystal box, the old man fled the Antique Room as if chased by his demons.
It dawned on Kian why Jed made this trial private. If the Lam clan thought the girl was a threat to the Siren’s throne, they’d take her out before she could even walk.
“Lucia,” Kian whispered, picking her up, “one day, you will be the Siren.”
CHAPTER 1
Present
Tibet
“We don’t have all the time in the world. You know that, don’t you, Vladimir Blazek?” Lucienne Lam’s voice was rich and sweet.
At five feet eleven inches, there wasn’t the slightest awkwardness about her. Instead, her height and athletic figure gave her a regal air. She was wearing a Tibetan outfit—a close-fitting robe and shirt, with a colorful apron of narrow stripes. From her left ear hung a silver ring decorated with turquoise—a disguised detonator.
“Don’t say my name out loud, Lucia,” the boy whispered back, “if you don’t want those angry monks on our tails. For pirates’ sake, we’re trying to rob the monastery, and I’m the only Blazek who has spent three months with them.” His hands fumbled on the wall of frescoes, looking for a hidden button in the Gonkhang Chapel. “And we do have time. We damaged the Assembly Hall’s corridor yesterday, remember? The monks have sealed off this section.”
Unconvinced, Lucienne glanced at the entrance before sliding her gaze back to Vladimir. Catching a smug expression on his exceptionally good-looking face, she rolled her eyes. “It’s been two years since you studied with the monks. They’ve probably forgotten all about you.”
When he looked back at her, she quickly turned her whiskey-brown eyes to the incense burners. She didn’t want him to catch her studying his fine-boned nose and cheekbones that betrayed his aristocratic breeding.
“They remember me.” Vladimir winked. His gaze was hot on Lucienne’s face. He wasn’t shy about staring at her. “Not many guys have eyes as gorgeous as mine.”
Vladimir was seventeen. Even at six feet four inches, he lithely navigated the burning lamps and bowls of holy water as he moved along the altar. He wore a Tibetan robe of the left-sleeves style, exposing his broad shoulder. Lucienne insisted that left-sleeve was the current Tibetan fashion, denying that she wanted a peek at his well-structured torso, as Vladimir had claimed.
“The monks don’t care about pretty eyes like we do,” said Lucienne.
“Then you must have noticed,” Vladimir said. “Do you find my eyes irresistible?”
“You’re asking the wrong girl, Blazek! The girls you’re with may tell you your eyes—or any other body parts—are irresistible, but I have standards.”
“Were with.” Vladimir corrected with a sigh. “That was before I met you. How could I know you were occupying a corner patch of the earth?”
“You told me you’d heard a lot about me when we first met in Desert Cymbidium.”
“Well, everyone’s heard about you. The military school was founded by your family, and you’re the first female heir of the Lams. But you have a tough reputation. They say you aren’t a nice girl.”
“Is that why you challenged me?” Her almond eyes sparked in the dim light. She watched him fasten the bottom of his robe to his waist. Under the robe, he wore hunter’s trousers and boots. She let her eyes linger on his long, strong legs as he pulled a scanner from the portable shrine strapped to his shoulder.
“The instructor should have kicked you out for playing dirty like that,” Vladimir said.
“But everyone was delighted to see how I made you eat mud.”
“Unfortunately for me, I can no longer treat you like—”
“Like you treat your other girls?” Lucienne’s voice turned icy. “You treat girls like dirt. You’re a jerk. I should never have let you persuade me to come here.”
“You want this, Lucia. You didn’t need much persuasion,” said Vladimir.
That statement struck home. She wanted this desperately, more than he could ever know. Lucienne sighed. Her enemies, most of them her own family, had formed a secret boys’ club. They wanted her head on a silver platter before her sixteenth birthday—when her reign as Siren would begin. Which was less than a
month away.
But if she succeeded and obtained one of the two remaining ancient scrolls, the rest of the family would gain confidence in her, and resistance against having a female Siren would diminish. She’d stop a family war. However, Lucienne wouldn’t confess any of this to the Czech boy. She kept a blank expression as she watched him press the scanner against the wall.
“It’s here.” Vladimir raised his gaze from the device. “Now where is the damn button? I’ve groped every inch of the wall.” He leaped down from the altar, not spilling a drop of the water in the seven bowls that rested on top. His eyes grew anxious as he surveyed the room.
“I won’t blame you if we go home empty-handed, you know,” Lucienne said. “I appreciate any time away from those endless meetings with my grandfather’s cronies.”
“Politics will forever be a part of your life,” Vladimir said, not without sympathy.
“You’re an heir, too. Doesn’t your uncle hold you to family obligations? I heard he’s not easy to fend off.”
“The old man wants me to mate with a girl he picks and breed the next heir immediately.” Vladimir shrugged a shoulder. “He’s quite disappointed in me.”
Lucienne drew a sharp breath. “Are you going to do that?”
“Do what? Disappoint him?”
“Breed!” Lucienne said, her cheeks flaming.
She saw a mischievous light flitting in Vladimir’s eyes, followed by the flickering of the flashlight along the wall as he continued searching for the hidden gadget. “Of course—at some point. I’m not a real monk. I have a need to reproduce.”
Lucienne’s lips closed in a thin line. “Should we wrap this up so you can go reproduce?”
“Excellent idea,” chortled Vladimir.
