The Red Queen (12 page)

“Our enemy will send you somewhere else,” Kian said, “or torture you until you’re dead. They won’t kill me. They’ll put me in Abaddon 5.”

Nickolas nodded. “But there are a few complications. No one gets out of that godforsaken place. They’ll execute you before they let your army storm the prison. If you’re as good as dead, I’ll be too. Second, even if you get to meet Samantha, how will you make her hand over the priceless scroll? She fears no threat or torture, and drugs don’t work on her.”

“That’s for me to worry about.”  Kian gave the elder a cold, tight smile. “You follow my plan, and you’ll have your freedom.”

“I’ll do it,” Nickolas said, “but I should mention one last thing: when the founder caught Samantha, he didn’t find the scroll with her. She said she ate it.”

~

Things went exactly as Kian and his men had planned. He’d ended up where he needed to be—Abaddon 5. His team divided into three task forces—the first would come for him as soon as he had the information for the cure, the second went to catch the new elder girl, and the
third
was already tracking down Vladimir Blazek to use as bait for Bayrose Thorn.

Now Kian must find Jekaterina in this fortified prison, where his cell didn’t even have a window, and where the prisoners were kept isolated at all times. He surveyed his environment without turning his head as the realization hit him: even unchained, he could never find Jekaterina. He’d have to make his enemies bring her to him.

So he waited for them like an emotionless rock.

Time crawled by. Kian had no concern for himself. His concern was for Lucienne. Even the former Siren considered his granddaughter more important than himself. Lucienne was the first female Siren to be born, and she was to shift the world. He didn’t need the ancient prophecies or i-Ching’s oracle to tell him that. He didn’t know the end game. He didn’t know what kind of revolution she was going to start, but he was with her. He would always be with her.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t make it out of this dump alive as long as he could deliver Jekaterina and the scroll to Lucienne, followed by the cure. He wouldn’t allow himself to fail.

So he waited patiently for the new interrogator, the one who mattered in the Sealers’ rank.

It was hard to tell if it was day or night. They didn’t send him meals every day, but when they did, they slid a slice of bread coated with mold and a paper cup of stale water through a narrow slot in the steel door.

At least five days had passed, but the interrogator or tormentor hadn’t come. His enemies were playing a new game with him. They weren’t just using sensory deprivation, isolation, and starvation to make him weaker; they were deploying a time element to show him they had plenty of it while he—or rather his beloved Siren—was running out.

Anxiety and fear came to him like bubbling acid, but Kian contained it. If he opened his mouth first, he lost. So he kept waiting, immutable like hardened steel. No matter what his enemies did to him, they couldn’t break him. The only one that could break him was Lucienne Lam. He repressed a nagging worry—once she found out he was missing, she’d come for him, and no one could stop her. He’d forbidden his men to activate the tracer in him before four weeks’ time, but Lucienne wouldn’t care about his orders.

Once she came for him, she’d mess up his plan.

He prayed the men would stall her as long as they could. He must make his enemies bring Jekaterina to him before Lucienne made a move. Before she tore the world apart to get to him.

So waiting became the hardest things he’d done.

Time was chewing him, but still, he waited.

CHAPTER 8

COLD BATH

Lucienne bathed in cold water.

She spent most of her time these days in a bathtub made of Caijou gemstone. The ancients believed this gemstone stored over one hundred million years of healing energy from the earth and the universe.

Lucienne felt no healing energy—only a shattered spirit.

The artificial candlelight cast part of her shadow along the gemstone wall. She could see the perky outline of her breasts. She lowered herself into the water, shivering at its low temperature, and stared with dull eyes at the patterns on the ceiling.

Vladimir used to say that her eyes could reflect the slightest light. He wouldn’t say that if he were here to see her now. Where was he? Where was Ash? Neither even bothered to say goodbye. They kept their whereabouts from her as if she’d chase after their tails and cause more damage.

She commanded herself not to think about either of them, but their images, in turn, twirled in her mind.

Even amid Ash’s absence, the Lure loitered. It brought his woody scent and male musk to her nostrils, not sparing her, not wanting her to forget its other victim at the far end of the world. Even submerging herself into the frigid water brought no break. The Lure sent a strong heat wave between her thighs. 

“Stop it,” she whimpered. “Just stop.”

Aida rapped on the door. The guards wouldn’t dare come in during her bath, but they’d fetch her nanny if Lucienne was inside the bathroom over an hour. They watched her like hawks.

If she refused to respond, Aida would just enter, despite Lucienne’s protests for privacy. “Get over it,” the nanny had said more than once. “I changed your diapers when you were a baby.”

Kian had ordered Ziyi to remove Lucienne’s heat signature from the doors, so if there was an emergency, her guards could break in and reach her in time. With the new lock, Lucienne could no longer completely seal herself in.

“Lucia, you ready to get up?” the nanny asked outside the door.

“In a minute,” Lucienne said, annoyed at the intrusion.

Then a knock came again, and Aida called, “It’s been more than five minutes. I’m coming in.”

Whatever
. She decided not to leave this tub. Aida didn’t have the strength to drag her out. Today there’d be a contest of wills. She’d show her nanny who truly called the shots.

Aida turned the lock and scurried in with a white robe in her hand.

Lucienne made a point of sinking lower into the water, closing her eyes, and leaving only her nose above the water to take in air.

Aida sat on the edge of the gemstone tub. “You’re a fighter, my sweet girl,” she said, her voice full of love.

That was unexpected. She’d waited for her nanny to push on. When Aida gently brushed her hair off her forehead, Lucienne let her face surface and leaned her head against the edge of the tub. “It doesn’t matter if I fight,” she said. “They just keep coming back.”

“Then you rest,” Aida said, “and fight again, and give them hell.”

“I
am
resting, but you keep nagging me.”

“You’ve been in the water for nearly two hours,” the nanny said. “Your nice skin is wrinkled now, like mine.”

“Who cares if I have wrinkles? No one will look at me.”

“Everyone looks at you and looks up to you. You don’t get to live just for yourself. I hated this life for you when you were first brought to the Red Mansion, but now I understand. You’re the Siren, and a queen can never live like a normal girl. You have people who need you.”

“I can’t even take care of myself,” said Lucienne.

“Then let me take care of you, and you take care of them.” The nanny started drying Lucienne’s hair with a towel.

“Oh, Aida.” Lucienne drew her knees up against her chest and rested her head against her nanny’s shoulder.

Aida ran a hand over her hair. “Men and boys come and go, but we—your people—will always be here.”

Lucienne felt tears from her lashes. “Has Kian come back?” 

“No. He should be back in a few days.”

“He hasn’t returned my calls. That never happened before. And the guards don’t know where he is. I’ll check with Ziyi to see if he’s in some sort of covert op. Nowadays, everyone keeps me at arm’s length.”

“Kian knows how to manage himself,” Aida said. “Now get up and get dressed, or I’ll have to dry your naked body. You hated it when you were a little girl.”

“I’m too tall for you now, anyway,” said Lucienne.

“Then you don’t want me to slip and break my old bones.” The nanny kissed the girl’s head, rose, and exited.

Lucienne put on her robe and came out of the bathroom. She
selected a white leather tank top and a pair of jeans from the closet.
Her guards looked reassured at her white outfit, but to Lucienne, wearing red or white made no difference when in such a sulky mood.

Duncan was among her watchers. He hadn’t been around since the day before yesterday. His dark skin was pale. Was he sick? She had scarcely talked to her guards ever since Vladimir and Ashburn had left. “Have you eaten, Duncan?” She eyed him. “Aida baked a pie in the kitchen.”

“Not hungry,” he said, looking angry and anxious.

As Lucienne headed toward the library, he trailed after her with another guard.

“Where did you come from?” She gestured for him to walk with her, and Duncan fell into step beside her down the hallway.

“The castle,” he said.

“Any news there?” she asked casually.

Duncan didn’t answer.

Lucienne looked at him sideways, quirking an eyebrow. “Since you came from the castle, you must know where our chief is.”

“Chief McQuillen is—” A pause that was more like a choke caught in Duncan’ voice.

Lucienne waved her hand in exasperation. She was sick of it. She wouldn’t put up with this nonsense that she shouldn’t be bothered or burdened with the Sphinxes’ affairs. She was still their Siren. She had the rights to know what was going on under her nose. “What about Chief McQuillen?” she demanded. “He doesn’t pick up my calls anymore, and everyone refuses to tell me where he is. Am I a plague?”

“Chief—” Duncan’s voice was still choked up.

Lucienne stopped short. A passage of cold air whirled around her. A foreboding sense speared her guts.

Duncan wasn’t trying to stall her.

“What’s wrong, Duncan?” she asked softly, yet with authority.

“Chief McQuillen was captured,” Duncan finally got his words out.

Lucienne’s mind went blank for a few seconds. “What?” 

“The Sealers took Chief McQuillen over a week ago,” Duncan said. “The chief’s men didn’t want you to know about it. Ziyi intercepted some intel yesterday.”

Blood drained from Lucienne’s face.

The air around her turned colder than ice. Sphinxes’ weather cooled down fast at night. Was it night already? That explained why it was so dark all of a sudden. She rubbed her arm at the chill. No, this cold was unnatural, as unnatural as this sudden darkness. Had her thought manifested itself, like a dreaded nightmare that always came?

She looked around. She was in a barren terrain, the sun blocked by vast, red wings. She broke into a run when a predator dove toward her with menacing purpose.

It struck her, knocking her to the ground. The wings became an endless red, ensnaring her. Air, she needed air, but couldn’t break through the thick net. Someone called her name. It was Kian, her protector! He called urgently at first, then his voice trailed off, as if
saying farewell
.

Kian!
Lucienne’s senses spiked. He was in danger, and she must go to him! But this darkness, this redness, prevented her from reaching him.
No!
She screamed. She’d burn it. She’d burn anything that stood between her and Kian. She raised her hand and summoned her power.

The dark, red predator fluttered away before her power came.

Lucienne blinked. She was in the hallway in her home with her guards.

They looked alarmed. Accompanying her was like walking with a tigress that could turn on them at any time. As her frantic breathing slowed, she nodded to them. “I’m okay now,” and watched relief wash over them.

This was the first time she’d slipped into insanity for mere seconds and come back, all because of her determination to reach Kian.

“How did it happen?” She fixed her gaze on Duncan, keeping her voice calm.

“Chief planned his own capture,” said Duncan.

“Why?” she asked, though she’d pieced everything together.

Kian had gone straight to the Sealers for the cure because she was running out of time. Who didn’t want Kian McQuillen, Sphinxes’ number one commander and the Siren’s ultimate guardian?

She’d tried to prevent Ashburn from leaving, so she’d demanded Kian send his best man to search for the last scroll. Who was a better man than Kian? “I’ll sacrifice everyone,” he’d said, “including myself, for you.”

She’d condemned him without realizing it.

Her every action caused catastrophe. Kian had once put it in the kindest way: “From the moment you were born, Lucienne Lam, you were at the center of the war.”

If she hadn’t hunted Ash for his TimeDust, Orlando, Cam, and the other warriors would have lived. The chain reaction also cost Captain Marloes her life. If she hadn’t bested all the boy candidates and taken the Siren’s seat at the age of eight, the decades of the Lam family war could have been averted.

Seraphen had called her the catalyst. He’d been desperate to erase her for the safety of the world. Maybe the creature had been right? But how could she not be what she was born to be? How could she not pursue Eterne and a new future for humankind after being molded into who she was?

For Ashburn’s sake, she turned her back on her Siren’s call, and all things went south. War kept finding her and her men.

She might stand at its center, but she would not cost Kian. She would never lose him. But she
might have already lost him.

Lucienne commanded herself to stay calm—she needed a cool head more than ever—but she couldn’t keep herself from trembling. When she stepped out of the house, in desperate need of fresh air, her guards had gathered outside, waiting for her command. News travelled fast. They’d all heard about Kian’s capture. And she was the last to know.

Thaddeus moved toward her. He steadied her and let her lean on him. “We’ll get him back, cousin.”

Tears flowed from Lucienne’s eyes. The tears were clear. She had her sanity in check. She’d succeeded, for the first time, in pushing back the red wave. She wouldn’t allow herself to slip. Not while Kian was in mortal danger.
She wiped her tears and stepped away from her cousin. “Chief McQuillen has been taken,” she said, facing her guards. “I’m assembling a rescue team.”

“We’ll go on your behalf, Siren,” said Adam, the captain of the guards.

“No, I’ll lead the team,” Lucienne said.

Heavy silence fell in the air until Adam broke it. “I’ll round up a special task force.” He knew no one could talk her out of this. She’d burn the river dry if anyone put it between her and Kian.

Lucienne collected her guards and went to see her generals. She outranked them, but she still needed to go through them to rescue Kian. She could no longer do what she wanted, when she wanted, like she did two years ago when Sphinxes was nothing near being a nation. It had a system now, and she had to respect it.

A heated argument stopped abruptly as Lucienne entered the castle’s underground conference room. Admiral Enberg, General Fairchild, Director Pyon, and other high-ranking officers snapped to attention and saluted her. She waved a hand to dismiss their formality. “I see you’re having an emergency meeting,” she said as General Fairchild stepped down and let her have the head seat at the table. “I’m curious why I wasn’t invited to your big boys’ club.”

After a slow, awkward silence, Admiral Enberg spoke, “We think it’s best not to get you involved.”

“You think it’s best?” Lucienne asked. “Am I not your Siren anymore?”

“You’re forever our Siren,” said Enberg. “Because of that, we can’t risk you.”

“If you try to make me a figurehead,” Lucienne said, “it won’t work. Many have tried before you and failed miserably.”

“We won’t try, Siren,” General Fairchild said. “You’re our warrior queen. But while we’re capable of fighting for you, we’re more comfortable when you aren’t on the battlefield where the bullets can hit you. If we lose you, we lose our cause for fighting.”

The other officers agreed vehemently.

“Smooth talk and manipulation never work on me,” Lucienne said, ignoring the few officers double-checking her white suit. She’d never talked to her officers like this, but they hadn’t treated her as their leader ever since she’d started having mental collapses. They treated her like a dangerous, mad teenage girl who happened to be highborn. “What happened to Chief McQuillen?” she asked curtly.