Read The Siren (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 1) Online
Authors: Meg Xuemei X
“Fair enough.” Orlando flashed Vladimir a gloating grin.
“But—” Vladimir wasn’t pleased.
“Orlando is as good a pilot as you are. If he wants to share the burden, let him,” Lucienne said. “You’ve flown BL7 more often than anyone. Don’t think I don’t know.” Before Orlando could gloat further and Vladimir protest, Lucienne said, “Now, will you two be quiet for a moment and let the girls talk, please?”
Violet’s hands grabbed the edge of the seat. She loosened her grip and put on a brave face when she noticed Lucienne watching her.
“In order to locate your friend, I need to know why he came to Hell Gate,” Lucienne said.
“He’d never have come here if it weren’t for me. The law forbids anyone to enter Hell Gate, for fear of waking up an evil spirit here.” Tears sparkled in Violet’s forest green eyes.
“How do you know there’s an evil spirit here?” Lucienne asked.
“The Book says there is,” Violet said.
“What kind of book?”
“The only book we have. The Priestess keeps it in the temple,” Violet said.
A light glowed in Lucienne’s eyes. Could it be the last scroll that had evaded her family for centuries? Was it hidden in this cloaked town after all? Lucienne made a mental note to fetch this book after retrieving Ashburn. She continued to interrogate the girl. Violet was protective when it came to her friend and sly at holding back information, but Lucienne tailored to the girl’s needs. When she expressed her admiration of the redhead’s special friendship with Ashburn, Violet opened like a floodgate. Within minutes, Lucienne had all the information. The Book wasn’t the third scroll but a brainwashing tool; Ashburn was advanced; Nirvana was a wrinkled reflection of Eterne.
BL7 circled Hell Gate, then Attu Mountain, then the surrounding areas for two rounds in a slow scan. On the screen, all Lucienne saw were snowy mountains and sulfur-worn rocky land.
Ziyi reported through the communication link, “Dragonfly has searched the Aleutian islands three times. Two: no trace of the missing kid. Three: the footage we recovered didn’t show how he disappeared. Last: the satellite counted nine hundred ninety-seven humans within the nameless town.”
“How many people do you have in Nirvana?” Lucienne asked Violet.
“Nine hundred ninety-nine,” Violet said.
“Then Ashburn isn’t in the town,” Lucienne said.
“Our fuel’s low.” Vladimir turned to look at Lucienne over his shoulder.
“Outside the mysterious town, all three hundred square miles of the island are covered in snow,” Ziyi said. “Even if he isn’t wheelchair-bound, he won’t survive long.”
“Ash must be around, somewhere. He must be.” Violet begged. “Please find him!”
Ziyi’s voice commented. “Guys, sorry to interrupt again, but you have an imminent crisis: two hundred or so peasant soldiers are marching in your direction with primary weaponry. See for yourselves.”
The townsfolk marched with burning torches and weapons, including kitchen knives and spears.
Lucienne turned to Violet. “We’ll look for Ashburn again tomorrow. Where should we drop you?”
“Can you just look for him a little longer? Maybe you’ll find him if you—”
“No, we can’t. We don’t have enough fuel,” Lucienne said. “Which means the bird is hungry. Without proper food, it won’t stay in the sky.”
Violet bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “Drop me at Hell Gate.”
BL7 stopped at Hell Gate to let the girl out, then took off, and headed toward the lost city.
CHAPTER 9
The king had assembled an army.
Gathering at Nirvana’s entrance, farmers and soldiers brandished torches and spears, shouting, “Fight for the gods! Bury the outsiders at Hell Gate!” Archers shot a stream of flaming arrows at the approaching BL7. A spear hit the cockpit window and bounced off the bulletproof glass.
“That’s definitely not nice.” Ziyi’s voice came through the intercom. “Should I be worried about your safety, Lucia?”
“We’ll be fine, Ziyi,” said Lucienne.
“It’s hundreds against the five of you!” Ziyi said.
“Then don’t disturb us,” Vladimir said. “We’re busy.”
“Well, I love you, too,” Ziyi said.
“Then I pity you.” Vladimir turned to Lucienne with a dazzling smile. “Ready to roll, Lucia? Like old times?”
Lucienne had retaken the co-pilot seat after they’d dropped off the redhead. She regarded Vladimir’s boyish grin, her blood racing. “What’s stopping you, Blazek?” she purred sweetly, tilting her head to one side and gazing at him.
Vladimir looked dazed for a few seconds, blowing out a long breath.
“Yeah, what’s stopping you, Blazek?” Orlando said impatiently. “If the natives want to play hardball, let’s toss it back.”
Vladimir pushed down on the joystick.
BL7 dipped and skipped over the crowd like a surfer riding rough waves. The violent wind forced the army to scatter. As the jet pulled up to skim over the town, the crew spotted an ancient temple with a high terrace on the north corner of the marble square, its golden columns aligned over the richly decorated platform.
“It looks similar to the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus,” Vladimir said.
“It can’t be modeled after that. The natives have their own gods,” Lucienne said. “Besides, how would they know about one of the Seven Wonders of the World?”
The jet’s intense searchlight homed in on two fifteen-foot-tall, winged statues guarding each side of the temple. At the feet of the statues lay a sacrificed lamb and a pig’s head. Incense smoke swirled into the air from an open altar.
“Orlando,” Lucienne called, “behead one of their idol gods.” She pressed a button on the control panel. BL7 opened a triangular side door and hovered in the air.
Orlando lifted a rocket launcher to his shoulder and fired.
Marble debris rained down. A second later, the god’s head on the right side of the temple plunged to earth.
“Lucia, I beg you,” Vladimir sighed. “Don’t make a habit out of abolishing relics.”
“Just trying to give the natives a new god,” Lucienne said. “Better to behead their gods than put bullets in their flesh.”
She turned on BL7’s external speakers. “People of Nirvana,” she announced, “we are the outsiders from the sky. We have the gods’ power and have beheaded one of your gods. We can destroy you, your town, and everything you love, just as easily. You don’t stand a chance if you choose to fight us. We do not come to hurt you, so don’t make us.”
The king’s hysterical shouting was drowned out by BL7’s roar and Lucienne’s announcement. “We’re going to land the gods’ vessel and have a word with your king and queen.”
BL7 dropped Orlando onto the terrace of the temple. In position, he adjusted his night-vision sniper rifle, the best in the black market, training it toward the crowd below until he found the archers.
The machine touched down in the center of the square. The giant commando stepped out first and pushed down his helmet. Looking through his visor, he held an M16 automatic rifle out before him. The sensors inside the helmet gave him three-dimensional audio and detected threats faster than the mind ever could. Lucienne had personally tested the outfit. It was sensually powerful.
With a collective gasp, the villagers staggered back several feet. “Monster!” they called the giant. The king’s army waved their weapons and shouted in ferocity and fear.
Duncan, the last commando, jumped onto the top of BL7 to cover the team’s blind spots. He mounted an MG43 machine gun, his eyes locked on the crowd.
Carrying a case, Lucienne stepped out of BL7 with Vladimir at her side and walked straight toward the king and queen. The nine guards shielded the royal family in a half circle, while his army moved to surround Lucienne and her warriors.
Flipping two handguns—including an Armatix Pistol—in his hands, Vladimir gestured for the guards to step back so that Lucienne could approach the king. Lucienne read the king’s conflicting thoughts—if he ordered an attack, could he get the upper hand? He had witnessed the manifestation of the outsiders’ gunpowder. But if he lost this battle, the outsiders would slay him. The queen whispered to the king, and with a grim expression, he waved for the guards to back down.
As the guards fell back, Vladimir, tense and on alert, stayed put. Lucienne stood in front of the king. “We meet again, King and Queen,” she greeted with a cozy smile, “as I promised.”
“I don’t want war, either,” the queen said in Spanish.
You know you can’t win.
“Then we’re on the same page,” Lucienne replied in Spanish.
“Is it gold you want?” the queen asked. “We’ll offer you a load of gold for you and your men to leave in peace.”
“I have more gold than you can imagine. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.” Lucienne laughed.
The king gritted his teeth.
“Then why have you entered our kingdom and risked your life?” the queen asked. “We’ve allowed you to conduct your affairs in Hell Gate, and that should be it.”
“Unfortunately, we haven’t found the source of the abnormal climate change. Meanwhile, our world is suffering from global warming,” Lucienne said. “We need to locate Ashburn Fury first. Something must have happened before he disappeared.”
“The cripple is gone forever,” the king said. “No one has ever survived once they’ve crossed the Hell Gate.”
“Ashburn Fury’s fate is in the hands of the gods and is not for you or me to decide,” Lucienne said. “But first, you need to open your eyes.” She pulled a laptop computer from her case.
The king and queen jumped back at the sight of the laptop.
“It won’t bite.” Lucienne switched on the computer.
The guards stepped toward her. In the blink of an eye, Vladimir was at her side, his Armatix trained on the guards. “One step closer, and I’ll blow your brains out!” he warned viciously.
The bulky guard who almost stomped the farm couple to death in Hell Gate had bloodlust in his eyes. Lucienne read his savage thoughts. He believed they could outnumber her warriors. If he killed this outsider queen, the king’s army would prevail. Without warning, he threw a two-blade dagger at Lucienne in an attempt to behead her.
Vladimir’s sanjiegun instantly lashed out, smashing the flying dagger. Before the dagger even hit the ground, the guard dropped, his body riddled with bullet holes.
“Stop!” Lucienne raised a hand, and the sound of the ear-piercing gunfire ceased.
The first blood had been drawn, and Lucienne wanted to be sure this didn’t turn into a blood bath. Just when she was about to order a retreat, three black wolf-dogs bolted toward her and Vladimir. Someone had unleashed the war mutts.
Lucienne slid her whip from around her wrist and pitched it in the air. The uncoiled whip stretched to seven feet, hissing, but didn’t even have the chance to draw second blood. The beast at the forefront bellied up amid the sickening sound of its neck snapping. Cam the giant tossed its corpse aside. The last two mutts collapsed with a yelp ten yards before they reached Lucienne. Vladimir’s Armatix killed one of them. Orlando’s rifle gunned down the other.
Lucienne turned to the king and queen with a blank expression. “Are you ready to conduct business now? Or do you have more variety?”
Vladimir trained his gun on the king, aiming for the space between his eyes. “You won’t get the chance again, dick!” His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to pull.
“Don’t shoot!” the queen called, then urged her husband. “King Henry!”
The king raised a finger in the air and called to his army. “Enough!” He frantically waved off his guards, and they dropped back again, carrying their leader’s body with them.
Ignoring the tension, Lucienne let her fingers dance on the touch-screen keyboard. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
A streaming video appeared on the screen—clips from war documentaries and violent movies with high-fidelity sound. She turned the screen toward the king and the queen.
“Moving pictures on glass?” the queen asked in puzzlement.
“These are real wars and real deaths on this glass,” Lucienne said.
The king and queen stared at the screen—air strikes, dismembered human bodies piled up, buildings collapsing into ruins. Fire and smoke and bones.
The king turned his ashen face away, not at all shocked by the images, but full of fear that his kingdom, too, would be reduced to ashes. The queen, who had less stomach for blood and gore, doubled over and vomited.
Lucienne glanced at Vladimir with a rueful smile. She was trained to be a shark. “Be a predator, never prey,” Jed often told her. But she was the shark that always worked to make bloodshed the last resort. Vladimir gazed at her with approval before fixing his hard stare on the guards. “Sun Tzu once said, ‘The best victory is to win without fighting, without spilling blood,’” he said.
Lucienne squeezed his hand in appreciation before turning to the king. “We’re the good guys. If the bad guys come, innocent blood will spill on your lovely streets.” She called to the screen, “Miss Wen?”
Ziyi’s animated eyes lined with heavy blue mascara replaced the graphic pictures on the screen. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she greeted. Lucienne almost rolled her eyes. Ziyi must have heard Orlando calling her that in front of the natives.
“Mr. King, Miss Wen is going to employ a Sky Eye to watch you from space. Show Mr. King where he is.”
An image of the king and his queen looking lost on the temple’s marble stairs replaced Ziyi’s glossy red lips on the screen. To highlight the effect, the satellite camera zoomed in and portrayed a close-up of the king’s twitching mustache.
“The glass mirror is going to suck our souls!” the queen cried.
“It has no interest in your souls,” Lucienne said.
Awe-struck, the king looked up at the heavens to find the Sky Eye.
“It sees you, but you can’t see it,” Lucienne talked into the screen. “Thank you, Miss Wen. I can take over from here.” And the screen faded to blackness.
“I must show you one last thing, Mr. King.” Lucienne clicked an icon and brought to life a video of military parades—hundreds of thousands of soldiers marching behind massive tanks. “Imagine all of them swarming Nirvana like millions of locusts,” she sighed.
The king clenched his teeth, his voice choked in fear. “They mustn’t come! The gods built this kingdom for their chosen people. Our ancestors had the land—”
“The bad guys don’t care. They can't be reasoned with. They can't be bargained with. They don’t feel pity, remorse, or fear,” Lucienne interrupted. “But as long as my people are safe in Nirvana, Miss Wen won’t inform the rest of the world of your land.” She straightened her shoulders and looked into the king’s eyes with a piercing gaze. “I advise you to let your people know it’d be a horrible idea to attack us in any way—sneak up on us, ambush us, cut our throats while we sleep, or poison us with food and drink. If we don’t survive, you don’t.”
The king flinched. He exchanged words with his queen in their local tongue. “How long will you stay in my kingdom?” the king asked Lucienne venomously.
“Until we find the sacred token missing from Hell Gate and return it to the gods, so the climate will return to normal.” Lucienne’s keen eyes locked onto the king and queen, trying one more time to read their minds and see if they knew anything about the Eye of Time.
“Whoever committed such an unholy crime shall be punished to death!” the king said.
“Father, Ashburn the Extra is the one who committed such a crime.” Prince Felix stepped forward. “He must have stolen the token—the god’s magic box. So the gods’ light went out.” He gestured at the blacked out town with indignation.
“We’ll catch whoever took the magic box,” Lucienne said. “We must now bid you and your people goodnight. We’ll be back.”
The king and queen looked sullen, and the crowd remained hostile but silent.
Lucienne and Vladimir shared a look. They’d gained the access to Nirvana. Vladimir gestured for the men to withdraw.
BL7 shot into the sky like a black arrow. In a few seconds, it vanished from the sight of the islanders.