The Red Queen (25 page)

He must have seen the glint of desire in her eyes. A smoldering desire immediately roamed across his darkened hazel eyes. He seemed to have a hard time reining it in.

Lucienne’s pulse quickened. Her lips parted involuntarily. Her blood flowed hot. Too much heat. More than she could handle. Then the redness hit, so fast, before she could register it.

Red was passion, and passion was inside her like fire. She was burning. But she felt good.

A whimper from the sitting room pulled them from the moment. Lucienne turned her head.
Bayrose stared back at her with undisguised enmity.

“
Ooo, someone is jealous.” Lucienne winked at Bayrose and moved
closer to Vladimir to press against him. She liked to have her half-sister watch. “Vlad,” she now purred loudly, and smirked at her sister’s sizzling anger, “where have you been? I was looking for you all over! I missed you terribly. Didn’t you know?”

The whispers from the sitting room dropped to a hush. The guards rose to their feet. Kian was on the move in a second. Lucienne threw her head back and giggled. She had such an effect on men.

Vladimir looked alarmed. “Láska?”

The
Czech word for love. She was his love. She knew.

The prince darted a glance at her dress. That reminded her. She’d been so distracted by his possessive lust that she forgot to check what she was wearing. The gray on her looked so dull. “Wardrobe malfunction,” she said with a groan. “It happened again. Aida! Aida is getting old and forgetful. You’ll have to forgive her, but don’t you worry, Prince Vlad. I’ll go change. I know you love me wearing red.”

A storm moved into his eyes, sweeping away the ravenous desire in them. In the wake of the storm came an ocean of grief that could break anyone’s heart. What saddened him so? Lucienne
didn’t need any more sorrow. Lately, she’d seen it over and over—in Kian, in the guards, in almost everyone! She must host another party to cheer them up. That firework dinner party hadn’t gone well. Next time she’d make sure her mother didn’t crash her party. She wouldn’t allow wicked sorrow to drag her people down.

“This silver dress is perfect,” Vladimir said urgently, his warm breath on her earlobe. As she was distracted by his breath and scent, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to sit on the sofa in the corner. And he made her turn away from the window and the forest of red maples beyond.

“I must show you what perfection is,” she said, protesting in his arms. As soon as she had her fabulous red dress, he’d see. With her red dress, she always felt prettier, cleverer, and more in control.

He held her hands to prevent her from leaving. He was so possessive even without seeing her in a red dress. If she put on the high slit gown, he’d never let her out of his sight. Lucienne tried to retrieve her hands. Instead of letting her go, he shouted at the guards in the sitting room, “Everyone out. Now!”

Kian stood between the bedroom and sitting room, watching her warily. He regarded Vladimir for a second, and the prince gave him a curt nod. Kian gestured to the guards, and they filed out.

“I'll stay.” Bayrose approached Lucienne. “I’m her sister.”

“I don’t give a damn who you are,” Vladimir said. “Get out.”

“Lucia, you want me to stay with you, don’t you?” Bayrose asked. "We're family."

“If you want to stay, then stay,” Lucienne said with a shrug and turned to Vladimir with a giggle. “Bayrose is a family and she likes to watch.”

Vladimir gave
Bayrose an angry stare before looking upon Lucienne with all the gentleness in the world. “I haven’t seen you for so long, miláček,” he said.
“Would you deny me a small wish to be alone with you for a few minutes?”

Lucienne gave him a sultry look. “Since you put it that way—” She turned to Kian and Bayrose and said with a flutter of eyelashes, “Prince Vlad needs some alone time with me. I’m his sweetheart. You two gotta go.”

Biting her lip hard, Bayrose turned and exited. A guard pulled the door closed behind her.

“I stay.” Kian strode toward them and sat on a chair across from her and Vladimir, without invitation.

Lucienne widened her eyes, surprised that Vladimir didn’t protest, but then she nodded an understanding. “I don’t want to fight Kian, either. Last time we fought, I almost killed him. So I’m being careful now. I don’t want to do anything that I’ll regret later. But be warned. Chief McQuillen is notoriously overprotective. He’ll frisk you before he lets you be alone with me. If you’re carrying any weapon, now would be a good time to hand it over to him. He won’t have a problem with you if you just cooperate.”

The outside door flung open. Lucienne took a peek. Ashburn charged in.

“Ash!” Lucienne rose and cheered.

Vladimir got to his feet too, frowning in displeasure. “Can’t he just be gone for once?”

“Like hell I’ll let you do that without my presence,” Ashburn said.

“Do what?” Lucienne asked, scanning the faces of the three men. “Ooo, mystery!” Her eyes sparkled. She spent her whole life trying to unveil one mystery after another.

Vladimir stood facing her, putting her face in his palms and gazing deep into her eyes. “We’re going to do something together.”

“A game?” she asked eagerly.

“Láska.” Vladimir leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Remember, I’ll never harm you."

So the game had started? A thrill ran through her, even though she didn’t know the rules of the game. But who cared about rules? “Harm me?” she laughed. “Worry about yourself.”

She looked up through her thick lashes and darted a glance at her other companions. Ashburn was as tense as a turkey at Thanksgiving, and Kian looked torn between hope, desperation, and apprehension. They both seemed ready to jump on the Czech prince if he cheated, like good judges in the ring.

She stood for several more seconds before losing patience. Was this how the game was played—she and Vladimir stood with their foreheads against each other and saw who moved first? She thought the prince would reintroduce some new excitements after his long absence. Disappointment seeped into Lucienne, but she was in a predicament. If she moved first, they would declare she lost. And she didn’t like losing. She needed to come up with a quick excuse to end this dumb contest.

Scent of herb and snow.

Hmm. Vlad had developed a new aroma. Was that why she liked him better this time? She vaguely remembered they had some issues of late. He’d wronged her, but she couldn’t keep track of what that was. She hadn’t been blameless either.
At times, she’d been dismissive, even cruel, toward him.

Let bygones be bygones.

A trail of cool air whiffed into where her third eye leaned against Vladimir’s.

What was that? She tried to pull away, but Vladimir held her face tightly between his rough palms. “Shush,
Láska,”
he whispered. “It’s fine. I love you. I’ll never hurt you again.” His voice sounded affectionate yet broken.

Had he broken her heart before, or had she broken his?

Scent of herb and snow.

Her Czech prince had changed. The sunshine boy now had cool air in him. It was welcoming; especially when her body started growing
uncomfortably warm.

Fire, like a
sentient being, dwelled in her. She was drawn to its dangerous beauty. In the scorched wildness, it beckoned her near. And she did. At its center was the deepest darkness,
same as
the black hole at the core of the sun.

Fire burned her skin. Its orange spark singed the streaks of her midnight hair. She was the moth. But she shouldn’t be. The Siren was never born to be the moth. But the unnatural fire was irresistible. Lucienne kept inching toward it—until the cold air came. It solidified into walls of ice and cut off the dark fire’s reach for her.

Her body and mind started cooling.

Clearness and lightness returned.

Blink.

She was home. In her bedroom.

Vladimir’s forehead was still glued to hers. His breath was cool and ragged on her face. And he was trembling.

She immediately knew what he’d done.

She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed, breaking their connection.

Vladimir stumbled and swayed. Ashburn and Kian each grabbed one of his arms before he fell on his knees. “It worked.” Her Czech warrior grinned at her in comfort and triumph. His face was ashen. A sheen of blood appeared along his hairline.

He’d absorbed part of her poison.

“How could you do this to me and yourself, Vlad?” Lucienne asked. She’d never felt worse, even though her body was feeling cleaner and lighter.

His eyes turned dark and wild. The poison kicked in him, bringing the madness.

Her hand shaking, Lucienne placed her palm against his face. “You should never have done this. This poison isn’t for you to bear.”

He didn’t hear her, though her touch did something to him. He struggled against Kian and Ashburn, wanting to pull her into his arms to protect her, but his strength failed him.

Lucienne turned to Kian and Ashburn. “Are you all in on this?” she asked coldly.

“We need to buy you time, Lucia,” Ashburn said.

“At his expense?” she asked, tears burning in her eyes. “Do you all think I’m that heartless? If I am, I don’t deserve to be healed.”

“Lucia, sit down please,” Kian said. He let Vladimir lean on him alone, then nodded for Ashburn to calm her down. Kian’s free hand pulled out a phone and dialed a line. He barked an order into the receiving end.

Lucienne shrugged off Ashburn’s hand on her arm.

Duncan, who had escorted Vladimir back from Tibet, sprang into the room with Thaddeus. They each supported Vladimir by a shoulder and helped him out of the room.

Lucienne followed. “Where are you taking him?”

“His room,” Kian said. “He needs rest.”

Ashburn blocked Lucienne before she got to the door. “I’m sorry, Lucia,” he said. “While he’s like this, he’ll need to be alone.”

She glared at him. For the first time, she was mad at him more than anyone else. “Stay out of my way.”

Ashburn didn’t flinch at her fury. “He’ll be fine, but he needs a few hours to recover. Your presence won’t do him good.”

My presence doesn’t do anyone good
. Lucienne sank into a chair near the door. “By saving me, you’re turning me into a monster.”

“You’ll never be a monster,” Ashburn said. “You always come back.”

“Stop talking to me, Ashburn,” she said and turned to Kian. “Promise me you won’t let Vladimir try that again, and I’ll forgive you. You know I can’t stop him when I’m in another zone, but you can.”

“I can’t,” Kian said. “We’ll do what we have to do. And when he wants to heal you, no one can stop him. You know that too.”

“This is cruel,” she said. “And he just came back to me.”

“No crueler than you stopping us from helping you,” Kian said. “If you take hope away from us, you take everything away from us.”

Lucienne closed her eyes. The cursed Siren’s line. She’d cursed everyone who cared for her. If Vladimir had never met her in Desert Cymbidium and hadn’t fallen for her, his life wouldn’t be like this— little joy and endless suffering.

But if she hadn’t crossed paths with him, would she have been poisoned? Didn’t the same truth apply to Ash? The three of them were like forces of nature colliding against one another, but even disaster and ruin couldn’t tear them apart.

Their love only burned brighter, yet neither of them had a future with her.

The poison of the Siren’s love.

With Vlad’s absence, Ash’s presence grew stronger. The Lure was calling her relentlessly.

Lucienne flashed open her eyes. Ash watched her intently, waiting for her to call him to her and forgive him. She could read his silent message: he’d be at her side, comforting her. He’d have her in his arms and make her forget about her heartache and guilt and Vladimir, even for just a second.

Her need for him was as great as his, but she resisted it, despite her body catching fire at his calling, at his scent.

The poison of my love.

CHAPTER 22

BEACH AND BOYS

Lucienne ran in her white tank and Capri leggings, her sneakers hitting the sand rapidly. The waves were high, the sun was bright, and she was tired. She kept running, no longer caring about the ridiculous sight of a squad of soldiers racing after her. She needed to get in shape. The poison had aggravated. It didn’t just cause her to slip into insanity; it often wormed its way into her lucid states. She felt wearier as days passed, as if being dragged under water by a chain, the iron grapnel at its end getting heavier every day.

Someone raced past her guards. A second later, Vladimir fell into step beside her, running with her. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said between breaths.

He’d slept for two days after he’d taken a portion of her poison into himself. She’d visited him several times and stayed with him while he remained unconscious.

Color had returned to his face, yet he still had faint shadows under his hazel eyes. She wanted to brush them away. Lucienne slowed her pace and asked, “Shouldn’t you stay in and drink Aida’s black chicken soup?”

Vladimir wrinkled his nose. “Your nanny is crazy. I googled the recipe. Black chicken soup is for women, particularly those who have just given birth.”

Lucienne could barely hold back her smirk before her expression faded to something serious. “You looked worse than a woman after labor when you took in Blood Tear.”

“I thought we’d gotten over that.”

“We’ll never get over it,” she said. “You’ll never try it again.”

“Have you forgotten I was the one who poisoned you?”

Lucienne stopped, facing him in fury. “After all this time, how could you still think—”

“Of all the people I could hurt,” he interrupted her, “I hurt the only one I love? I’d rather cut my hands off than hurt you. Let me do this for you,
láska
,
and I won’t feel like I’m living in hell every second of the day.”

“Don’t you know the poison will eventually take your life?”

“The ritual says the poison will dissipate through my meditation and digestion. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not true. I talked to the Lama when you were out cold.”

“That Khampa needs to learn to shut his big mouth sometimes,” Vladimir said.

“Respect the man of god,” Lucienne said. “He said eventually you’ll be lost in the land of insanity and never return. The poison will reach its limit.”

“I won’t let it reach my limit. I’ll be careful.”

“Why is it so goddamn hard for you, Kian, and all the boneheads, to accept the fact that there’s no cure?”

“The cure is out there,” Vladimir said stubbornly. “We just need to buy you more time. And that’s exactly what I’m doing—buying you time.”

Even though he diluted the poison in her for the moment, it always came back. Nothing could quench the fire of the poison that pumped through her blood.

But Kian, Vladimir, and the men wouldn’t listen. They refused to face the reality that one day her fight would be over. She must find a way—even using manipulation, lies, and threats—to stop their unnecessary sacrifice.

“You should not trust the Lama,” she said. “We stole their Holy Sentinel of Tibet. Surely they hold a grudge against us, but since we’re too powerful for them to take the scroll back, they’re using you to get me.” She was opening his old wound—the Sealers had used him to get her and succeeded—so he’d voluntarily quit. She watched pain fill his eyes, but she spurred on. “This healing thing seems to work in the beginning, but it’s a sugarcoated weapon.”

“I didn’t go through the ritual to become a weapon to hurt you.”

“Of course you meant well. That’s how the monks could manipulate you. They took advantage of your desperation to save me. Didn’t we hear them confess before they chased us into the chasm? They exist to purge evil in the world, and they believe I’m the Darkness.”

“Their perception of you has changed,” Vladimir said. “You now have their absolute allegiance. Someone reached them before I did and convinced them that you’d bring light to the world. So they revealed the secrets of the ancient healing. ‘So the Light in the world will be preserved.’ Those were the Lama’s words.”

“Who was that someone?”

“I overheard their whispers about a female of rare beauty, intelligence, and indeterminate age.”

Did Jekaterina visit the monks before she came here?
Lucienne mused.

“And they said she was one of the old goddesses who still walks among us,” Vladimir added.

“Everyone can tell how absurd and ignorant that sounds, but you—a skilled, modern warrior and a well-educated member of the royal family—still listen to their nonsense and try to kill yourself inch by inch?”

“I’m not killing myself. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Lucia.” Thaddeus stepped forward and passed her a phone. “It’s Bayrose. She said it was urgent.”

Vladimir glowered, “What does she want?”

“Bayrose, I’m in the middle of running,” Lucienne talked into the phone. “What do you need?” She listened for a few seconds. “I’ll get back … soon … How soon? How do I know?” She sighed at more of Bayrose’s questions and demands. “Fine, I’ll make it in five, or seven minutes ... I’m not doing rocket science. It’s a long way from my house.” She hung up and turned to the guards. “Guys, the running day’s over. They want us back.”

“What is it?” Vladimir asked.

“Jekaterina’s coming,” she said. “She has a breakthrough.”

“Why didn’t Jekaterina call you directly?” Vladimir asked.

“This isn’t one of Bayrose’s schemes to cut short our time together,” she said. “Dating me, you’re also dating my whole family, even though my family is always a mess. Try to be nice to Bayrose.”

“Lucia,” Vladimir said in a measure tone, “my instinct says you shouldn’t trust this side of your family either.”

“Her other side of the family—those who have sworn their fealty to her—have proved to be loyal and worthy,” Thaddeus said.

Lucienne waved her cousin back into the rank of the guards. “If you ever had a good instinct, Blazek,” she said softly, “you’d have run away from me the first time you laid eyes on me.”

“The first time I laid eyes upon you,  I wanted you. And now I want you more than ever. Nothing—not even fate—can stand in my way.”

Lucienne blushed. “Look what your instinct got you into.”

“It found me a home, with you,” he said.