The Red Queen (16 page)

He didn’t spare a glance at the coffee, but she knew how much he needed it. The jailers hadn’t fed him for two days. He stared at her with a blank expression. With the Shadow in her, Bayrose could sense the burning lava beneath his expressionless mask. He wanted to tear her apart for the poison she’d helped deliver to his Siren.

But Bayrose refused to obey her instinct to recoil from him. She squatted in front of him and held his stare. “I’m Bayrose Thorn,” she said softly and sadly. “I’m sorry they tortured you. I just arrived.”

Lying was so easy now with the Shadow in her.

McQuillen picked up the coffee. Involuntarily Bayrose leaned back to give him a wide berth. The coffee was room temperature. If he threw it at her, it wouldn’t hurt her physically, but it might hurt her feelings.

McQuillen took a big swig of the coffee, not wanting to waste it on her, then finished the rest in one gulp. He crumpled the empty cup and tossed it aside, not at her.

Guess he’s still a gentleman, even though he wants to kill me
. Bayrose tried not to flinch under his assessment. He exuded an aura of command and formidability, being chained in a dungeon made no difference.

“Mr. McQuillen,” she said, her chin cocking toward the corner of the ceiling, “I’ve disabled the cameras.”

McQuillen didn’t respond, but narrowed his eyes on her with that unnerving look of his. Once again, she wanted to run away from him, but then a courage she hadn’t known came from the pit of her belly. She would handle a legend like him. She was a ruler, born and tailored to inherit an ancient kingdom—a powerful shadow government on earth.

“We don’t have much time.” She kept going, afraid if she stopped, she’d lose her nerve. She gestured at the pastry in front of him. “It was supposed to be your last meal. They’ll execute you in two hours. You’re too dangerous to be kept alive.” She saw a query in his eyes. For the first time, he was responsive to her. “That’s why they didn’t put you in Abaddon 5.”

“Is Samantha in Abaddon 5?” McQuillen asked, his hard eyes still locked on her.

He’s trying to detect my lie.
“Was,” she said. “She escaped.”

“How?” he demanded, his voice rough and cold.

Bayrose had arranged it as instructed. She’d left a crack for Samantha to get away. She shook her head. “We don’t know. Samantha is a well-connected elder. She has people everywhere. Her secret agents inside the prison must have aided her. The founder isn’t pleased. Abaddon 5 is under tight investigation.”

A mosaic of emotions flashed by McQuillen’s eyes, but Bayrose had caught them. Sphinxes’ chief was beyond bitter for missing an “appointment” with the woman he’d come for. He’d thrown himself at his enemy for nothing. He’d failed his Siren queen. His rage was terrible, but she wasn’t as afraid of him as before. She had her own power. She felt joy at reading his emotions. She was certain now the Shadow didn’t just shield her. It also gave her perspective.

She’d further crush McQuillen’s hope. She hadn’t been this vindictive, but she’d learned from the master—Prince Vladimir. His devotion to his Siren made him cruel to her, and thus Bayrose became a cruel conductor herself. They’d made her this way.

“Samantha went to Abaddon 5 voluntarily,” Bayrose said. “No one can find her if she doesn’t want to be found. I heard that it once took seven years for all of the elders, putting all their resources together, to just get the wind of her. That was before I was born.”
So good luck, Mr. McQuillen. Your Siren doesn’t even have a month
. The Shadow concealed her delight. “I’m very sorry, Mr. McQuillen.” She controlled the urge to tell him that there was no antidote to the poisoned Nexus Tear on earth or in heavens. But she bit her tongue. It wouldn’t help her plan if she snuffed out his last, doomed-to-fail hope.

For a fleeting second, she felt his broken spirit. Kian McQuillen wasn’t untouchable after all. Lucienne Lam was his weakness. If Bayrose ever needed to strike him, she knew where to hit. However, he wasn’t her target.

“What do you want, Miss Thorn?” he asked, his eyes harder than anything she’d seen. “Why did you come to bring me my last meal and tell me all this?”

“I must let you know it wasn’t me who poisoned Lucienne,” Bayrose said.

“Don’t kid yourself,” McQuillen said. “You had a red hand in poisoning my queen. You’re
not
innocent.”

“I didn’t mislead Prince Vladimir intentionally,” Bayrose said, holding back tears. “I even let him inject a liquid bomb in me to show that I was truthful to him before he went to extricate Nexus Tear. He wanted it so badly, and all I wanted was to make him happy.” She paused to control her emotion. “Lucienne’s father returned later and told the elders he poisoned his own daughter. The virus was added an hour before her arrival. I had no idea. I’ve grieved for her, for Prince Vladimir, for my father ever since. I grieve that the war cost good people on both sides. And I don’t want the war to continue.”

As Vladimir’s name poured out of her tongue, an unexpected agony slammed into her. His cocky grin flashed by her eyes.
I still love him, despite his betrayal. I even love his flaws.
The realization brought her more misery, and she allowed the pain to sink in her eyes. She knew that McQuillen saw it. Being raw, real, and vulnerable was the best move in front of an alpha male. “The founder used my feelings for Prince Vladimir, and unknowingly I became a pawn in his scheme.” Anger emitted from her eyes, and she tried not to be bothered by how closely McQuillen scrutinized her.

“You were a willing pawn since Lucienne is your rival for Blazek’s affection,” he said.

“I didn’t realize that Lucienne was even in the picture,” Bayrose said, and the distress couldn’t be plainer in her eyes. “Prince Vladimir and I were—close. He was always tender and loving toward me. I pieced everything together only after he was gone and never returned. Even if I was aware that Lucienne was Prince Vladimir’s—” she swallowed, “—true love, I wouldn’t have won him over by hurting her. It isn’t in my nature to harm people. And it wouldn’t have worked anyway. I’m sixteen, but I am not that foolish.” Sorrow passed over her face. “I’m terribly sorry that Lucienne is also a victim. If the founder and my father could have realized that no one would have gained from this war, then—”

“Your apology means nothing while Lucienne suffers from the poison,” McQuillen said.

“I wish I was the one being poisoned instead of her,” Bayrose said.
No, of course I don’t wish that.
If she could, she’d shove the Blood Tear down the Siren’s throat herself. Because of Lucienne, Bayrose had taken in the Shadow. There was no antidote for that either.

“It doesn’t change a thing.” Kian McQuillen remained untouched. “It doesn’t matter if I believe that you’re innocent or not. I’ll be dead in the next hour.”

“It matters to me very much,” she said, “because I’m going to help you escape.” She caught a fleeting spark in McQuillen’s steely eyes before it vanished. She bet he’d give everything to see his Siren queen again, yet he didn’t show a thread of desperation.

“I can’t give Lucienne the antidote. I don’t know if anyone has it,” she said. “But I can give you back to her.”

“Just like that?”

“I want something in return,” she said. Only the naïve believed people did good deeds without an agenda, and McQuillen was the opposite of the naïve. She must give her enemy a plausible intention. “If I give you back your freedom, you’ll guarantee mine. I want no part in this war, but I’m an elder’s only heir. I haven’t been able to escape this horror since I was born. All my life I’ve been living inside a golden cage. Now I’ve become speaker for the founder. I’m to be put in a more decorated cage.”

“You think I’m your chance of getting out of the cage?”

“I intend to go with you to Sphinxes.”

“Don’t you fear you might be put in another kind of cage—a crude one—if you go with me to Sphinxes?”

“At least it won’t be the one in which I’ve been trapped for sixteen years and maybe forever,” Bayrose said fiercely. “At least there’ll be a change of scenery. At least the founder can’t find me there.” She let out a breath and slowed the rhythm of her speech. “I haven’t had a chance to see the outside world and live a life I want. This is my only opening to be free of war and politics.” She saw something flashing beneath McQuillen’s eyes. Pity? She was close to Lucienne’s age. Did McQuillen think of Lucienne when looking at Bayrose? Pity or not, she must invoke this alpha male’s need to protect the weak.

“And I’m not naïve,” she continued, as she succeeded in giving McQuillen the impression that she was exactly that. “The war and the betrayal have changed me, but somehow I believe I can trust you a little more than I trust the others. You sacrificed yourself for Lucienne. When I offered you an opportunity to get out of here, you didn’t jump to make promises. Instead, you put a fearful picture in my head to warn me.” She bit her lip. “So, I believe I can trust your word once you give it. And I want your word that you’ll protect me if I get you out of here. I know Samantha well. I’ll help you track her down and find the Scroll of the Prophecy for your Siren.”

She knew that the last scroll was the straw to a drowning McQuillen.

“You’ll have my protection if you never intended to poison my queen,” McQuillen said. “You’ll be treated well in Sphinxes as an honored guest. You’ll have freedom.”

“I’m going to steal a warplane.” Bayrose swallowed back her hot tears after she let McQuillen see some of them sparkling on her lashes. “Do you know how to fly one?”

She would get him a jet that did not have enough fuel.

The escape must be dramatic enough to feel real.

CHAPTER 13

ATHENS

Ice in her veins, heart in her throat, Lucienne heard Director Pyon order one of his men through the radio, “Revive a guard!” Then there were background noises. “Inject him with the new drugs!” Curses, repeated pumping sound on a chest, and a loud gasp. Then a team leader demanded answers from a jihadist jailer who had regained consciousness. Amid the chaos, Pyon shouted into his encrypted phone, “Miss Wen, activate the second tracer in Chief McQuillen, now!”

A second tracer.
That was Pyon’s secret weapon. If Lucienne had known, she’d have demanded him activate it and gone after Kian the next second instead of giving Pyon three days. The director must have threatened Ziyi not to inform her, and lately her friend had been terrified of setting off Lucienne’s insanity.

Her people did what they had to do to protect her from harming herself and others. Their good intentions only hurt her more than they could know. Her friends and warriors no longer trusted her. They no longer relied on her. She wondered if they also feared her, especially after she’d put a knife in her own boyfriend’s chest.

Self-pity was a mind-killer, a disease, like fear. And she bashed it out of her head. Pyon had made the right call. He’d waited until it was absolutely necessary to activate the second tracer. The Sealers had removed the first one, but hadn’t expected the second, dormant one in Sphinxes’ chief. The new tracer was also one of the Lam Industry’s new inventions. Because Pyon hadn’t trusted her on this mission, they still had a chance to find their chief.

“Lucia,” Bansi Soni called, “Ziyi just called Director Pyon’s private line.”

“Put it through,” Lucienne said.

Ziyi’s voice sounded edgy on the speaker. “The chief is in Athens, sir. He’s thirty miles from Lucia and her team. Should I inform her?”

“Absolutely not!” Pyon yelled.

“The chief is under fire,” the girl said. “The Greeks have blocked every mountain road and water way in and out of Athens. Obviously they know the chief is in their territory. But I thought the Greeks were our ally.”

Dark fury leapt from Lucienne. Just as Schmidt had bragged in the Sealers’ temple, the Brotherhood was the governing force behind many countries. Sphinxes had cut only a few branches of the ancient Sealers’ tree.

Pyon cursed.

“Director,” Ziyi said, “your team might be too late to reach the chief. If Lucia loses him, she’ll be more than devastated. She’ll never recover. I can get Adam and Thaddeus to lead the men to—”

“Her guards won’t lie to her under any circumstance,” said Pyon. “They’ve all sworn an oath to her. If they know, she’ll know. So under no circumstances will you involve the Siren and send her into a war zone! Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Ziyi said. “But I’m really worried.”

“I’m sending Greek agents from other locations. We’ll get there in time.” Pyon cut off Ziyi and ended the call. His radio buzzed the next second. Lucienne could hear him panting from running. “Set Hornets on course to Athens,” he ordered. “Get Chameleon III down now!”

Lucienne turned to her team. “Let’s go get our chief.”

On the satellite screen,
orange flame and black smoke erupted in the sky and extended miles into the desert.

Director Pyon had allowed the Hornet jets to bomb the Sealers terrorist base
in Libya
before leaving for Athens.

CHAPTER 14

SNIPERS IN PLAKA

Safe house V7 was in Plaka, the oldest section of Athens.

Lucienne and her warriors hurried on a pebbled, granite road. Most of the streets were closed to automobile traffic. Sunlight shimmered on ivy vines and pink blossoms over the walls along the alleys.

The team, nearly two dozen men and women, dressed like tourists, except for the three agents from the Greece op. One of them took the role of tour guide, the second positioned at the front of the group, and the third brought up the rear.

The members wore bulletproof vests and carried at least two guns each inside their jackets. Lucienne was placed in the middle. Adam and Thaddeus were on either side of her.

The tour guide had a small flag in his hand and a whistle around his neck. “Plaka is a village within a city,” he narrated. His English was perfect with only a slight Greek accent. “This favorite neighborhood is mainly residential with a deep archaeological past.” He led the group to push through the crowd in the square. Two street musicians occupied each side of the plaza. A Hungarian played accordion, and a Russian the violin.

“Try not to look dangerous,” the tour agent whispered. “Look casual and show interest in what I’m saying.”

The task force relaxed their muscles, yet their eyes remained sharp.

Soon, the group left the square and the crowd behind, rushing toward the street of clustered shops and cafés. Their façades were a mélange of yellow, red, and dark scarlet.

“Around the east corner,” the guide said, “we’ll see a painting shop.”

That was where safe house V7 was located.

The group kept the same pace as they rounded the corner. 

Lucienne could hear the beating of thunder in her chest. She’d have Kian back in a few minutes. But instead of feeling joy, a stream of anxiety flooded her stomach. Her acute senses kicked in. Something didn’t add up. Ziyi had said that Kian had been under fire. Even if Greek authorities blocked the news of the most recent gunfire, this street still seemed unnaturally quiet.

A jewelry store occupied the northeast corner in an L-shape. Strangely, there wasn’t a single customer inside. A clerk in a suit behind the counter stared down at the glass cabinet which displayed diamond rings. He looked too stiff for a salesman. Next to the jewelry store was a flower shop. A flower girl wearing an apron stood out front. Her wet gloves had dirt on them. The pretty girl was close to Lucienne’s age. She smiled at the tour group, but it somehow felt phony to Lucienne.

Something was off. Or was she being paranoid? Lucienne could no longer trust her gut feelings with the poisoned power in her.

“Wood carvings are Greece’s—” The tour guide dropped to the ground. A pool of blood formed under his head, soaking up his tour guide’s cap.

The flower girl had disappeared into the shop.

Pain burst from Lucienne’s chest.

With her hyperawareness, she’d instinctively dodged, so that the bullet meant for her head from a sniper had eaten into the wall behind her. But the next bullet had found her chest. Many of her men had been hit too, though the impact hadn’t pinned them down. Her excellent warriors instantly fired back into the flower shop and some roofs. Flowers, glass, concrete and sprinters flew in the air amid muffled gunfire. Lucienne’s team also carried guns with silencers. The plan had been to find their chief and quietly retrieve him.

And they’d entered an ambush.

Two guns appeared in Lucienne’s hands—one her standard Armatix gun and the other from Marloes. She kept it to remember her former captain. Thaddeus and one of her guards shoved her back toward the safer alley. Lucienne shrugged free of them and snarled, “Stop!” She fired at a roof where a sniper hadn’t been before. Her bullet and Thaddeus’ found the sniper at the same time and dropped him.

Adam, a former sniper himself, located the other one on a sloped roof and gunned him down in two blasts.

Other shops on the streets slammed shut their doors.

Without breaking a sweat, Lucienne swept her Armatix toward the flower shop and shot a Sealer agent in the forehead the moment it poked out of a windowsill.

Covered by his marine friend, Thaddeus threw himself over the counter and into the flower shop, his guns in both hands finding three more targets. One of them—a twenty-something Greek cop—looked shocked at the big Asian man’s speed when he tumbled, his machine gun smacking the ground. 

Within minutes, the shootout quieted down.

“Clear!” Adam called.

Lucienne stepped into the tattered shop. Nine bodies were scattered amid broken anemone flowers of pink, purple and yellow. The flower girl slumped against a stool that displayed pots of daffodils and bougainvillea, dead, a gun with a long silencer still clutched in her gloved hand.

The civilians in the other shops had been cooperating with the Sealers’ agents to make it look like a regular shopping day. How could her enemy know that Lucienne’s group wasn’t made up of tourists? A thought clicked: they’d been expecting her team. That, and her fine warriors’ strides were different from the civilians’. Every member had been handpicked by Kian and Pyon, and most of them were taller than her. Their height was a requirement. Kian wanted her men to be able to shield her.

The march of a group of men and women over six-feet-four inches would certainly draw attentions. They’d all been in such a hurry to get to their chief that they hadn’t thought of the odds of them walking among regular folks.

Lucienne inserted a hand into her jacket, yanked out the bullet that cut into her vest, and tossed it to the ground.

“Are you hurt, cousin?” Thaddeus asked, concern ringing in his voice.

“Siren?” Adam and the rest of the warriors looked equally worried.

“I’m fine,” Lucienne said. “Go get the chief.”

Their grim faces mirrored her worst fear: Kian might have been re-captured, or—

Lucienne refused to think the worst.

The scouts sprang forward, their guns thrust in front of them. The rest of the team fell into formation again with Lucienne squarely in the center. Their weapons ready, they raced along the alley. Four of the warriors carried their lost members—a marine and the dead Greek agent.

The scouts secured the painting shop. Lucienne stepped through the door, heart sinking at the sight of bullet-ridden walls and bloody corpses. Two of them were her field agents. One was a shop owner. The other six bodies were strangers. They must be the Sealers agents.

A few paintings were trampled on the floor, and some barely hung on the walls in broken frames. A wood-carved, full-sized statue of Athena in battle armor was beheaded by bullets.

Two scouts came down from the upstairs with the same expression of dismay.

A second rescue had failed.

As dread, like cold stone, settled in Lucienne’s stomach, a red wave started rolling toward her.
No, no, no! Not now
. She dug her fingernails into her palms and let the pain orient her.
No news is good news. Kian is alive
. She told herself again and again.
So snap out!

She pulled out her encrypted phone and dialed Sphinxes’ headquarters.

“Lucia?” Ziyi picked up immediately. “Pyon went berserk when he learned you went for the chief.  Bansi Soni is afraid of getting court martialed. He keeps saying he’s dead.”

“Kian isn’t in V7,” Lucienne said. “Find him.” She put the phone on speaker so her men could listen too.

“Monastiraki flea market.” Ziyi’s voice came back after a few seconds. “Our local agents are overpowered. No one can come to aid you or the chief.”

Many lives had been lost. Lucienne swallowed her grief.

“The flea market isn’t far,” a surviving Greek agent said. “I know a shortcut.”

“Keep your line open, Ziyi,” Lucienne said. “I’m going for the chief.” And she disconnected her phone.

The team followed the Greek agent through several zigzag turns into different alleys. The sun was overly bright. Vines and blossoms climbed down from packed balconies amid a blend of orange and lemon-colored houses. Shooting broke out somewhere nearby. The fight was in the open now.

The team raced toward the gunfire and wound up in an area of fancy restaurants. The courtyard smelled of coffee, milk pie, smoked pork, and gunpowder. The patrons on the outdoor patios rose and looked around in alarm, their coffee and feta cheese and bread forgotten in their fright. 

A group of Greek policemen emerged, shooting at the group without fair warning, turning Plaka, the sunniest Greek neighborhood, into a war zone. Lucienne’s warriors immediately retaliated. The remaining patrons fled; a few of them caught in the curtain of fire mostly coming from the police.

Lucienne’s phone vibrated. She picked it up. Her other hand held her gun tightly.

“Every alley is swarming with hostile troops,” Ziyi said in panic. “Both Chief and you are surrounded. You need to hide until Director Pyon’s team can get to you. They’re still in the air.”

Right before Lucienne’s team gunned down the last of the police, the Sealers’ reinforcements arrived. Shouts, gunfire blasts, and fleeing tourists were everywhere.

Thaddeus yelped in pain and cursed profusely. Blood streamed from his temple.

“Take out the damn snipers, man!” Adam called. He shielded Lucienne as they dashed toward the entry of an Indian restaurant, its protruding door providing a natural shelter.

“Thaddeus!” Lucienne called over her shoulder.

“A bullet grazer,” Thaddeus called back, taking cover.

“Lucia!” Ziyi’s voice sounded shaky on the phone.

“Can’t talk now.” Lucienne shut the phone, waited for a second, and moved the phone’s black screen out of the protruded wall, trying to find the snipers’ positions.

Adam pulled her back. “I’ll take care of the snipers.”

Lucienne gave him a glare. “I’m a member of the team.”

“And I’m in charge of it and your safety,” Adam said. “Please, Siren.”

Another horde of Sealers’ special force poured into the street, sealing both ends and cutting off any escape routes. They shouted through speakers in both Greek and English for Lucienne’s team to surrender.

They’re enjoying the hunt
, thought Lucienne.
They believe they’re in control with their three-dimensional advantage.

“Get in the restaurants!” Adam shouted.

Lucienne darted an uncertain glance at her captain. He was planning for the team to use the restaurants as shelter, then to exit through the back door and out of the alley. But the snipers would see their flight, and every street was infested with the Sealer soldiers. Retreating into the restaurants was only buying time. It wouldn’t improve the gravity of their situation.

But it seemed to be the only option. 

The enemy’s task force closed in, pushing hard. The exchange of fire increased. Their snipers were picking off Lucienne’s men one by one.

Anxiety churned in Lucienne’s stomach. Every minute, she would lose more men, and Kian could be lost to her. It was time to summon Forbidden Glory even though she promised Pyon not to use it.

And there was one big problem: Forbidden Glory would bring out the red rage. When she lost control, she might hurt her own team. She could be more dangerous to her men than the enemy’s force could ever be.

Choose the lesser of two evils?

“Thaddeus!” Lucienne called out, gesturing frantically.

Thaddeus turned to her from the entrance of a café opposite her and Adam. He gave her a nod, understanding what she wanted him to do—he must knock her out cold at the very moment she put down the enemy’s force. One mistake could cost the entire team.

Before Thaddeus darted toward Lucienne, a scar-faced marine shouted, pointing at a sniper, “Thaddeus, cover me!” and dashed out of his hideout from behind a table. Metal tore into the thick planks he used to shield his head. The marine turned his machine gun toward one end of the street, then the other. The enemy’s force still pushed forward, their gunfire cutting him down. Lucienne’s team returned fire, the furious, flying bullets dropping a line of enemy soldiers.

Thaddeus moved, incredibly fast, to a position where he could see the sniper on the roof. One bullet from his gun, and the marksman’s gunfire ceased. A shot from the second sniper hit him in the leg. Thaddeus fell with profane curses and immediately rolled behind a boulder.

The remaining sniper dropped another marine, then a Greek agent.

Lucienne flung her hands forward, calling for her power.

“Lucia, wait!” Thaddeus called, struggling to rise from behind the boulder on his wounded leg.

The second sniper tumbled from the roof, hitting the sharp fence below with a sickening splash. At the same time, the enemies from both ends of the street dropped in heaps.

Sphinxes’ reinforcements had arrived! Lucienne’s remaining warriors joined the slaughter, their bullets ripping through the air.