The Red Queen (30 page)

Vladimir moved to sit beside Lucienne. He held her, his forehead pressed against hers. She twisted away, eyes darting around. She was looking for Ashburn, but didn’t need to look far. He was at her other side in an instant. Bayrose hadn’t noticed him move.

“Lucia,” Ashburn said. “I’m here.”

Lucienne narrowed her eyes on Vladimir. “Did you bring me back?” she asked. “I told you not to do that! You now have enough of my poison in your body.” She turned to Ashburn. “Ash, you promised you’d look after him. You’re the strongest of the three of us.”

“Only if I can take your poison instead,” Ashburn said.

“Ash!” Lucienne cried. “Don’t say that! Would I wish that for you?”

“Shush, Lucia,” Vladimir said. “The farm boy stopped me from healing you. You came back all by yourself.”

Lucienne exhaled, more relaxed now, but also exhausted. “I’m in limbo, wandering in the dark alone. The darkness is endless.”

“You’re not alone,” Ashburn said. “You’ll never be alone. You have to remind yourself of that. We’re with you. Always will be.”

Bayrose rose to her feet. This melodrama was making her nauseas, but she didn’t want to be left out of the trio’s little clique. As she neared her sister, a ring of redness started forming in Lucienne’s eyes again.

Lucienne breathed hard. “It’s returning!”

The next second, Lucienne surveyed the room like a predator.

Her sister slipped again.
She lapses easily when I’m close
, Bayrose realized. The Shadow was potent.
Marvelous!

Lucienne shook off Vladimir’s grasp. “Prince Vladimir, what a surprise!”

“No, Lucia,” Vladimir said. “Come back—”

“Don’t ‘No Lucia’ me,” Lucienne said, wagging a finger toward him. “I know you’re the one who poisoned me.”

The brokenness in the prince’s eyes couldn’t touch the cold-stone heart of the mad Siren, but it pierced Bayrose. The Shadow in her brought out the worst in her sister.

Ashburn folded his arms over his chest, evidently enjoying Lucienne torture his rival.

“Yes … I caused you all this pain,” Vladimir said, his face white as death.

“Then it’s only fitting that I avenge you,” Lucienne said.

“Then avenge me,” Vladimir said.

Bayrose
chewed her inner cheek.
He’s self-destructive
. But she couldn’t risk influencing Lucienne while Ashburn was around. The last thing she wanted was the Fury boy to suspect the power the Shadow had over
the love of his life.

“You didn’t have the heart to harm me.” Lucienne looked thoughtful for a second. “But you messed me up badly. Lucia the fair and merciful won’t exact revenge but a punishment.” A cruel smile made her soft, full lips harder. “We can think of an adequate chastisement, can’t we, Ash?”

“We definitely can,” Ashburn said. “Let’s banish him—”

“Ashburn Fury!” Vladimir warned menacingly.

“—to the moon?” Lucienne asked.

Ashburn gave Vladimir a despised look before turning to Lucienne. “Not yet,” he said. “Kicking him to the moon is too good to him. He’ll have fun throwing rocks. Let’s keep him around for a little longer until his usefulness runs out. We’ll then think of a proper punishment he deserves.”

Bayrose couldn't stand on the sideline anymore. “You two are cruel.” 

“This is the talk of the adults, little girl,” Lucienne snapped.

“Lucia,” Bayrose said. “I’m not a little girl. I’m your sister. Remember?” Breathing in, she sent a touch of the Shadow toward Lucienne. What wouldn’t a girl do for the man she loved?

Instantly, a confused look moved across Lucienne’s face, then the wild edge in her whisky-colored eyes ebbed.

Her heart about to shoot out of her throat, Bayrose darted a glance at Ashburn. He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. Bayrose immediately withdrew the Shadow’s reach. Then she almost jumped to the roof as Lucienne suddenly leapt to her feet and stared down at the floor, a finger pointing at her toy in accusation.

“This is like a mad house,” the nuts said. “Who is running the train in my bedroom? Did Aida allow this? Aida!”

Ashburn and Vladimir traded a glance, then quickly darted away from each other, looking angry and embarrassed that they could find common ground.

It was obvious that there was a gap in Lucienne’s memories. One minute, she fixated on punishing Vladimir; then next she was worried about something completely different. The Siren was an express train going over a cliff. No one, including Mom, could stop that train.

Once Lucienne was gone, Bayrose, the rightful heir, would graciously give Sphinxes time to grieve their uncrowned queen. Lucienne’s demise would benefit millions. The Siren race—the plague on Earth—would be no more. There would be no more ancient feud. No more war. No more bloodshed. And Bayrose would step into the light.

For the greater good, Bayrose must push the express train to go faster. “Aida went to see our mother,” she said. “You remember Mom, don’t you?”

“Mom?” Lucienne asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “I have a mother. She—what’s her name? I can’t think straight.” Then she jerked her head back, as if being pulled by an unseen force. “I—” She darted her eyes frenetically. “Stop fighting me! Let go.” She dropped to the floor on one knee.

Vladimir and Ashburn each fought to pull her into his arms. Lucienne jolted backwards and fell, her back against Ashburn’s chest, her legs thrashing. “Why are you so stubborn?” she yelled. “We can have fun together. I’m your better twin!”

“She’s fighting herself,” Ashburn said, drawing a sharp breath.

“How do you know?” Vladimir said, suspicion and pain whirling in his darkened hazel eyes. “She’s hurting, so quit pretending to be an expert! Get out of my way and let me help her.” He shoved Ashburn away and leaned toward Lucienne. She backhanded him across his left eye.

Ashburn lurched forward and held her from behind. “Shush, Lucia. It’s us. We’ll never harm you. Never intentionally.”

Vladimir knelt on one knee and pressed his forehead against Lucienne. A stream of mist emitted from him and seeped into her forehead. She stopped struggling, drawn by Ashburn’s hand gently stroking the side of her cheek down to her neck, then back to her cheek. She went soft in Ashburn’s arms and whimpered.

It took a full minute for the red rings in her eyes to recede.

Vladimir broke the connection and coughed into his hand.

Blood was sprinkled on his fingers, his face colorless.

“Vlad!” Bayrose called out, alarmed. She moved toward him and laid a hand on his burning-hot arm in concern. He shook her off, even in his weakened state.

Lucienne gasped wide-eyed as if breaking the surface of the churning sea. Her eyes, now clear brown, looked into Vladimir’s glassy ones. “I’ve forbidden you to do this,” she said. “Why did you keep challenging me and hurting yourself?”

Vladimir tried to give her an assuring grin, but he only winced in pain. The guards moved in and helped him onto a sofa. Duncan wiped blood off his friend’s hand with a napkin. When he tried to clean it from Vladimir’s mouth, Lucienne stopped him. “Let me do it, please.”

With a mist of tears in her eyes, Lucienne used her silk handkerchief to gently dab away a drip of blood from the corner of the prince’s mouth. “One day you’ll die from this,” she said in devastation. “I’ve become the bane of your existence.”

“No more than I am yours,” he managed to whisper. Then his eyes went wild. Her madness was passing into him. “I see dead space. Dead stars. If you’re
gone, láska, I’ll be
stuck in the empty—” And then he passed out.

“I thought if there was any man who would never break,” Lucienne said, her eyes glued to Vladimir, “it’d be him. Yet I broke him. Ash, you should leave me before it’s too late. I don’t want to break you too.”

“Too late for that now,” Ashburn said, then turned to the guards and asked them to take Vladimir back to his room.

“Let him rest on my bed,” Lucienne said. “I’ll tend to him.”

“His connection to you hasn’t broken yet,” Ashburn said. “Physical proximity to you will continue to drain him.”

Lucienne’s face paled more. “I’m a leech.”

Bayrose couldn’t agree more.

Lucienne watched her guards carry out Vladimir, her hands curling to half fists at her sides. Then she looked down at her red gown. With a curse, she tore at it.

It’s not your gown—it’s you!
Bayrose hoped, for everyone’s sake, that vampire would just end her own life, and the sooner the better.

“Don’t ever say that, Lucia,” Ashburn said, grasping her shaking hands in his. “You’re the light in our dark hearts, and we must go through any dark passage to find that light.”

“I’m not the light.” Lucienne shook her head. “I’m the darkness.”

Bayrose stared at the empty sofa where Vladimir had rested a moment ago. “I’ll check on Prince Vladimir.” 

“Come back and tell me as soon as his condition improves, please,” Lucienne pleaded.

“Sure,” Bayrose said.
Like hell I will.
  She hastened out of the room to chase the prince.

In Vladimir’s room in Lucienne’s white mansion, Bayrose studied the prince. His chest barely rose with each breath. She’d wiped a trace of blood from his hairline. He wouldn’t have let her touch him if he’d been conscious.

She pulled the chair closer to his bed.

His face was still ashen. For the past week, he’d been taking in her sister’s poison and madness again and again. No matter how tough he was, he was still flesh and blood. How could Lucienne keep sucking out his life force and claim that she loved him?
That bitch!

Bayrose darted a glance toward the closed door. The guards had left her alone with the prince, trusting her with him. Duncan had checked on Vladimir a few hours ago, as had Aida, Dr. Wren, and a nurse.

Lucienne had come by every half hour, but Bayrose hadn’t let her in, spelling out for her that her presence might cause the Czech prince more harm than good. That vampire sister of hers had then left with a tormented look.

Bayrose knew Lucienne wished to tend to Vladimir instead of letting her.
Not going to happen
. Her sister had been avoiding challenging her feelings for Vladimir.
The Siren might be good at sword fighting but was incompetent at dealing with emotions. At least she wouldn’t come back for another twenty-five minutes to bother Bayrose and Vlad.

Bayrose bent forward and brushed her lips over Vladimir’s. She’d always wondered how it would feel to have him kiss her, but she’d never pictured this—she kissing an unconscious prince.

His lips were cracked, dry, and fever hot.

He hadn’t been this lifeless when they’d first met. He’d carried an air of wildness and held a fierce hatred for the two-faced Siren. He’d looked golden, even as he’d appeared half-damaged. Now he was a wrecked train that had suffered too many crashes.

As the Siren ran out of time, her vise-like grip on Prince Vladimir only tightened. Lucienne was poison to him, literally. Now only Bayrose could salvage him. She needed to make him see that. In order for that to happen, she needed to talk to him. Today was the first chance she had. She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late for the two of them.

Bayrose traced the faint shadow under his long, thick lashes. “I’m good for you, Vlad. Know that I’m made for you,” she whispered. “One love, one life time, and that’s you.” When she grazed her fingertips across his cheek, she slanted her mouth over his again. He didn’t resist, as if he’d been waiting for a kiss for too long. She deepened her kiss, and slowly he responded, first soft, then desperately. Bayrose closed her eyes, lost in their hungry want for each other. The tip of her tongue urged him to open up, and he did.

Their tongues entwined. Bayrose felt his unfulfilled desire was as deep, dark, and insatiable as hers. Vladimir groaned with pleasure, needing more, but then suddenly he stiffened.

Before she knew it, he’d thrown her off him. Bayrose hit the floor. Fortunately, her buttocks landed first, but it still hurt. She sat up, dazed, and stared into the muzzle of an Armatix pistol.

Vladimir leaned up and stared at her with his gun. “I hoped it was her,” he said coldly. “You’re not her. I’d recognize her taste.” A second later, he tucked the gun back under his pillow.

Bayrose knew Vladimir considered hitting a woman a cardinal sin, so pointing a gun at a girl was also a shameful thing to do. His manner didn’t comfort her, and his harsh words stung her.

“Then why didn't she come to kiss you?” she asked, picking herself up from the floor.

A dark, dangerous look flashed in the Czech prince’s eyes.

Suddenly she wondered if Lucienne had ever kissed Vladimir. The insane, slutty Siren resented the prince. The sane Siren appeared prude and discreet. But obviously Lucienne and Vladimir had kissed before. Vladimir had just said, “I’d recognize her taste.” Then why did the subject of kissing bring such a bitter, agonizing look from the prince?

“Why did she send me instead?” Bayrose plowed on.

He swallowed, the hurt evident on his face. “She sent you?”