The Siren (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 1)

by Meg Xuemei X

  “What do you want?” Lucienne whispered to the Eye of Time. “Talk to me. I’m the Siren. I was born to—”

  A skeletal bolt of lightning blasted from the Eye, blinding everyone. Kian and Vladimir threw themselves toward Lucienne at the same time; Vladimir—already on his way to break her trance—knocked her to the side, out of the path of the blasted microscope. A lens hurled toward them. The edge of the glass skittered by the side of Vladimir’s left eyebrow, tearing a gash in his old scar. They crashed to the floor, Vladimir shielding her, his hot blood dripping on her face.

  “Lucia, are you hurt?” Kian was beside them in a second.

  “Vlad is bleeding,” Lucienne touched his eyebrow, shouting, “Medic!”

  Vladimir shot up immediately, as did Lucienne.

  The locket stayed intact on the blackened microscope. Relieved, Lucienne released the pin and heard the Eye screaming as the Twilight Water sucked it back into its prison.

  Military flashlights shone through the smoke that hovered over the equipment and charred desks. Orlando and his soldiers extinguished the remaining fires.

  Lucienne turned to Vladimir, her shaking hand on his arm. “Vlad,” she said, “if you were even half a second late—” She stopped. She knew she’d have lost her eye.

  “I got you covered.” Vladimir pulled her into his arms. His heart drummed as fast as hers. Blood dripped from the open wound above his eyebrow, but he ignored it. He held a trembling Lucienne tighter, whispering in her ear. “I’ll always have you covered, láska.” Láska meant love in Czech.

  Kian clasped his hands. “All right, kids,” he grunted. “Split it up. Time to patch up Blazek, if you don’t want him all scarred and ugly.”

  Vladimir growled, but Lucienne pulled back from his embrace. “Kian’s right,” she said. “Let’s get you fixed.”

  “Me, ugly?” Vladimir glared at Kian. “That could never happen. I’m the best looking guy around here.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Kian stalked away, barking more orders to the men.

  Lucienne retrieved a medical kit from a young nurse. “I’ll look after him,” she told the nurse. “You check on anyone else who might be hurt.”

  The entire time, Vladimir never took his eyes off Lucienne. She felt her cheeks flaming but pretended not to notice his gaze. She knew he desperately wanted to reignite their smoldering passion now that they had secured the Eye of Time.

  Lucienne, however, was more reserved. One of them needed to keep a cool head. The ban on kissing separated them like a deep, cold river. She’d have to be the one to hold back, but for how long? How long before her control slipped again?

  High heels clacking, Ziyi joined them, eyeing Vladimir’s forehead. Lucienne was stitching him up with a pen-sized laser, which also sterilized the wound. “There’s no need to rush,” Vladimir said as Lucienne wrapped it up and put an antiseptic bandage on him.

  “Enjoy being pampered, Blazek?” Ziyi asked. “Now you’ll have another nice souvenir to brag about.”

  “That was a cruel thing to say, Ziyi,” Lucienne said. Both his scars reminded her how she had wounded him.

  “Ziyi just can’t understand the burden of beauty,” Vladimir said, his eyes staying on Lucienne’s face.

  Ziyi hissed. “I consider myself attractive, behind only Lucia. That’s why I don’t have a boyfriend. I have standards, and few men can measure up.” Then she turned to Lucienne, showing a small line of redness on her pinkie. “I had a paper cut.”

  Vladimir looked incredulous. “You came all the way here to disturb us just to show Lucia a paper cut?”

  “Paper cuts hurt.” Lucienne snatched a Band-Aid from the medic kit, peeled the cover, and wrapped it around Ziyi’s pinkie. “Now you’re as good as new.”

  “Thanks.” Ziyi flashed Vladimir a gloating smile and handed Lucienne a piece of paper. “I copied the last data before betas went down.”

  Lucienne took the paper. Much of it was covered with scratches of combination numbers, alien characters, and a formula. They were beyond valuable. Kian and Vladimir would not let her test the Eye again without some extreme precautions. The rest of the data was unsalvageable. The Eye of Time’s message was clear—it would not cooperate.

  Lucienne folded the paper and inserted it in the pocket of her jeans. “Well done, Ziyi.” She hugged the girl.

  “I just can’t disappoint you.” Ziyi beamed. “No matter how hard I try.”

  “You’ve failed again to achieve a disappointment,” said Lucienne fondly. “Now go get Dragonfly back online.”

  “You got it,” Ziyi said, springing away.

  A sudden silence developed between Lucienne and Vladimir. He reached to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear. His fingertips casually caressed her skin, sending her a warm, lavish feeling. She tried to hold still and not shiver. The heat had never truly faded between them. It was only repressed. Once the wild fire was reignited, it would burn them and everything in their path to ashes.

  Tentatively, Lucienne peeked into Vladimir’s hazel eyes. The fire, full of desire and tenderness, had rekindled in him, but at its core, she spotted vulnerability. Lucienne parted her lips. If she stoked the flames too much, she’d end up incinerated; but if she camped by the fire for too long, it would go out. Either way, she stood a big chance of losing him. She needed to find the path to Eterne now. “You’re good to go, Vladimir.” She put on one of her polite smiles. “Thanks for saving me again.” She turned to check on her lab scientists.

  “My pleasure, m’ lady,” Vladimir said.

  Lucienne could feel his frustrated gaze, restless and unwavering, searing after her.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Can I go with you to the lost city, please?” Ziyi batted her eyelashes. “I haven’t had a real vacation for the entire year since I’ve followed you to Sphinxes. You don’t want to see your prodigy burn out, do you? You have to let me have some fun.”

  Lucienne looked at the pleading girl. She was one head shorter than her even in her stilettos. “Fine. Anything to make you stop batting your lashes.”

  Ziyi blinked once more for good measure.

  In Hell Gate, as her crew set up tent labs, computers, and other devices to the networks in Sphinxes, Lucienne ordered Vladimir, Cam the giant, and Ziyi to accompany her to town.

  Winter had swept over the hidden world overnight, claiming the reign it had been denied for centuries. Its biting wind sent fallen blossoms chasing each other in mockery. Only their lingering fragrance reminded the visitors of Nirvana’s glory days.

  Lucienne believed either the removal of the Eye of Time or whoever had initiated it was responsible for this change. Nirvana, after all, was a place inside time.

  “A climate-controlled town faded like this?” Ziyi cried, rolling a large trunk behind her. “This is sad. So sad.”

  The group headed toward the golden temple down streets lined by barren trees. They passed houses and shops, all closed. The houses, more concepts than actual homes, were a strange combination of whimsical architecture and old Victorian era. Their uniqueness was lost in irony since every house looked almost identical, with the exception of varying shades of blues and grays.

  “Where are we?” Ziyi asked. “I’ve never seen a place like this.”

  “The natives have given us a ghost town to spite us,” Vladimir said.

  “We’re the first outsiders to step onto their land in thousands of years,” said Lucienne. “And then this happened. Can you blame them?”

  “I don’t like this,” the giant said, his big hand on his gun. His other hand pulled two large pieces of luggage behind him. He jumped as something sprang from a house in the distance, only to return his weapon when it turned out to be two geese. A farmer dashed out, frantically drove the geese back into his yard, and slammed the door shut. A dog from a nearby house raised a howl, causing other dogs from neighboring houses to bark back in response. Abruptly, all the yelps ceased.

  “This is science fiction turnin
g to reality: in an advanced town, the islanders live backwards.” Ziyi kicked a twirl of dried leaves that the wind pushed across her path. “When there’s no need for a society to strive for better, it usually stagnates in the early stages of its evolu—”

  “The king,” Vladimir warned.

  In the distance, the king and his guards stormed out of the golden temple, stepping over the broken head of their god, and met Lucienne’s crew in the center of the marble square.

  “Going for a walk, King Henry?” Lucienne greeted. “What a nice, cool day for a stroll.”

  “It’s not nice!” King Henry spat. He and his guards were wearing blankets. “A curse has overcome my kingdom.” He gestured around the bleak town in dismay. “You must find the gods’ magic box and return it to us!”

  “I’d like to question Ashburn’s folks first,” Lucienne said. “Perhaps you could point out the Fury house?”

  The king eyed the luggage the group carried and insisted on accompanying Lucienne.

  The façade of the Fury house was Victorian—a simple gray and blue house decorated with elaborate spindle work and jigsaw-cut bargeboards. Clement and Peder, the farmer couple Lucienne had met in Hell Gate, waited outside the door, trembling in the cold.

  The king and his guards barged in first. Vladimir entered next, putting himself between the guards and Lucienne and Ziyi. The giant brought up the rear.

  The furniture in the sitting room was simple cottage-style. The king occupied a seat at the head of an oak table, his guards standing behind him. Lucienne and her people chose to sit around a small tea table. Cam the giant stood guard near the Siren.

  Clement went to prepare tea at the open wooden counter close to the king’s table. She poured hot water from a thermos into a clay pot. Her hands were shaking so much that she splashed water onto the counter.

  King Henry barked at Clement, calling her stupid, useless, and then something nastier.

  Peder knelt before the king. “I apologize for my wife’s clumsiness, Your Majesty. We’ve never had a guest in our house before. We don’t know the proper way.” He darted a fearful look at the giant, then at the king’s guards.

  King Henry growled. “Shut your hole! I did not permit you to talk!”

  “You don’t have to kneel in your own house, Mr. Fury.” Vladimir rose from the chair and helped the shaking farmer up. Then he went straight to help Clement with the tea.

  Clement cringed when she saw Vladimir approaching. The thin blanket she wrapped around her shoulders swept a tea cup. The clay cup dropped to the floor with a clang and broke into pieces.

  The king gestured to the guard closest to Clement. The guard lunged to strike her. His hand stopped a few inches from Clement’s face. Vladimir twisted the brute’s hand behind his back, bending the guard over, forcing him to groan in pain.

  “Never ever lay a hand on a woman!” Vladimir said angrily. “Hasn’t your mother ever told you that?”

  “The stupid wretch is the king’s subject,” the guard cursed. “We can punish any subject as His Majesty pleases.”

  “Not the law in my world,” Vladimir said. “Now apologize to Mrs. Fury.”

  The guard cursed again. “We don’t apologize to lowly—”

  Vladimir added weight to his grip and the guard screamed. “Uggahh, you broke my wrist!”

  “Apologize,” Vladimir said coldly, “or I’ll break the other.”

  The king sat with his jaw set like a rock, but he knew better than to challenge Lucienne.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Fury,” the guard said. “Now let me go.”

  “Remember this:” Vladimir stared at the rest of the king’s guards. “You’ll never punish or disrespect anyone in the presence of Queen Lucienne without her consent.” He then shoved the guard away in disgust. “Hit her again, I’ll break your neck.”

  The king’s guards darted grim, uneasy looks toward Vladimir, then at the mountain of man. Cam glared back, ready to break a few necks.

  In a mist of tears, Clement stole a glance at Vladimir. This time when he moved closer to help her with the tea, she didn’t draw back from him.

  “King Henry,” said Lucienne, rising to her feet, “I’ve just received a new message from the gods.”

  The king blinked and stood up abruptly to pay respect to the gods. The chair under him creaked. “Did the gods tell you where Ashburn the Extra hid their magic box?” He rubbed his mustache tensely. “I must have it back. My kingdom depends on it!”

  Clement and her husband’s faces went ashen.

  “The gods are displeased with you and your guards’ cruel manners,” Lucienne said. “They believe the Furys are now too scared to make a sound.”

  “My subjects will talk,” the king said. “I’ll make them beg to talk.”

  “I’ll conduct my own interview,” Lucienne said. “Now leave.”

  King Henry glared at Lucienne. She glared back. The king then threw a threatening look at the farmer couple and shouted his resentment at them. Peder and Clement clung to each other, shuddering in fear.

  “King Henry, don’t even think of touching the Furys again. They’re off limits to you and your guards. The gods have assigned them to me with this investigation,” Lucienne added. “My Sky Eye will be watching. Any harm comes to them, you and your guards will risk bringing the gods’ wrath.”

  Clenching his fists, the king left. Containing their hatred, the guards followed their king out of the Fury house.

  Ziyi stuck her tongue out at their receding figures and slammed the door behind them. “What a nasty bunch,” she said.

  “Cam,” Lucienne ordered, “open the luggage.”

  The giant unzipped one of the bags, revealing a stack of winter coats.

  Lucienne removed two sets and handed them to Peder and Clement. “They’ll keep you warmer than your blankets.”

  Peder hesitated, but Clement shrugged off her blanket and put on a long feather coat. “It’s warm, husband.” She turned to Lucienne, eyes tearing up again. “Thank you, Queen Lucienne.”

  “Lucienne,” she said with a smile. “I’ll leave the rest of the coats in your keep. You can distribute them to your people.” From the conversation with Violet, she had learned the Furys were treated as third class citizens because of the prince’s hatred of their son. She was hoping this small favor—letting the Furys hand the coats to their community members—would raise the Furys’ status and earn them their neighbors’ gratitude.

  In her warm coat, Clement invited Lucienne to the inner garden at the back of the house.

  Panels of woods, glass, and steel lined the open courtyard. The style reminded Lucienne of a postmodern Montreal U-house she once drove by. The garden was in between the U-shaped space with a wealth of flora—rows of crimson tulips, white peonies, and other hybrids. The Furys hid this beauty in the back of their house, away from the prying sight of their fellows.

  “They’re lovely,” Lucienne said.

  “The only blossoms that still exist in the kingdom are in my wife’s garden,” Peder said proudly.

  “They’re going to fade,” Clement sighed. “We thought winter was only a tale, but now we’re living through it. If the gods’ light doesn’t return, my garden will be gone forever.”

  Violet, the red-haired girl, emerged from the backyard and joined the group.

  “Does the gods’ magic box provide everything?” Lucienne inquired.

  “Light, heat, and water,” said Peder. “Everything. The gods built Nirvana for us.”

  “It has nothing to do with the gods,” Violet cut in. “Ash said a hidden machine controls the air and everything else. We can’t see them, but Ash could.”

  Lucienne studied Violet’s face. Did she mean Ashburn knew the Eye of Time had been a life-support system for Nirvana?

  “Enough of the crazy talk,” Clement chided Violet.

  “If Ash were here, he’d fix everything,” Violet said. “We must find him.”

  “My soldiers are still searching for him,�
� Lucienne said.

  “We can’t thank you enough, Queen Lucienne.” Clement dabbed at her tears, pausing. “What if you find my son, and he’s . . . he’s—” she forced the words out. “What if he’s cursed?”

  “Mrs. Fury!” Violet looked shocked. “Ash is your son!”

  “I mean . . .” Clement looked ashamed at first, then said heatedly. “Of course Ash is my son!”

  A buzz shot through Lucienne’s head as she caught Clement’s fading secret. Clement wasn’t Ashburn’s mother! And none of the natives were Ashburn’s parents. Unknown to the islanders, the boy was actually the first outsider.

  “I only wanted to know if . . . if Queen Lucienne has a cure if Ash is—” She looked at Lucienne with sad anticipation.

  “Of course, Mrs. Fury,” Lucienne said. “We have a cure.”

  “The gods be blessed!” Peder rose to his feet, wringing his hands.

  “But Ashburn must come to my world for the cure,” Lucienne said.

  Ashburn’s parents froze. “But we’ve never been to the outside,” Peder said. “It’s forbidden for citizens to—”

  “What are you afraid of?” Violet cut in. “Ash was trying to find a path out.”

  “Violet!” Clement said. “You can’t say things like that. If the neighbors hear that, they’ll report to the king.”

  “Right now, the most important thing is to find your son.” Lucienne stopped the argument. “I need to know more about him to find out where he might have gone.”

  “He’s a very sweet boy,” said Peder, choked with emotion.

  “It was so hard to watch him be bound to that chair while the other boys ran around free.” added Clement, dabbing her tears.

  She regarded her son as a liability, Lucienne thought.

  “Why is he called ‘Ashburn the Extra’? Does it have something to do with his birth?” Lucienne asked. If Ashburn was the one who activated the Eye of Time, then his genetic code may be the key to solving part of the puzzle.

  The Furys’ faces went very pale. “After Ash was born, no boys have been born into the kingdom. Only girls,” Clement said.