The Red Queen (9 page)

“She’ll be lost forever if she recovers and learns she killed the Czech idiot,” Kian said.

They were openly planning to sedate her. Lucienne let out an icy laugh. “Try it, and I’ll show you—”

Then, an unseen shock wave—sweet and seductive
—
reached her. Ashburn jogged toward her, his hands aloft to show he was unarmed. His desire for her in his silver eyes sent a pleasant chill throughout her body. “Siren,” he said humbly, “I—we surrender to you, completely.”

Finally they got it. A smile of relief grew on Lucienne’s face, and her gaze grazed over Ashburn, as if truly seeing him for the first time. She was no longer interested in taking the Czech prince’s heart.

Forbidden Glory grunted. She ignored it. She decided to satisfy herself first, with Ash. His nearness sent her a wave of electric pleasure—the Lure now battling Forbidden Glory—but the angel’s Glory wouldn’t give up easily. Conflicting energy and emotions, different in nature and temper, twirled in Lucienne like cyclones.

Fury, pleasure, love, and hate.

“They’re tearing me apart,” she moaned, then screamed, “Stop!”

Time stopped for her. And the world switched back.

For a moment, she was disoriented. Until she saw blood streaming from a hard, bare chest, a blade pressed against it—she was the one who held the knife still dripping Vladimir’s blood.

She immediately released the weapon. It clattered to the ground harshly. She looked up at Vladimir’s face in horror. He gazed back at her, a mosaic of emotions in his hazel eyes—pain, love, and triumph.

Shaken and nauseated, she looked down at her white dress. She blinked vacantly, then blinked again. Everything instantly came back to her, making her relive the nightmare. No, she was the nightmare.

She looked frantically around her. Vladimir. Ashburn. Ziyi. Her guards. Kian. They stared back at her, then called her all at once.

“Lucia?”

“Láska?”

She dropped her gaze toward the ground. She was a monster. She couldn’t face them. She could never look into Vladimir’s eyes again. Not Kian’s. Not anyone’s.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t hear her own whisper. She couldn’t beg forgiveness. Only shame, agony, and fear drenched her, dragging her down toward the deepest pit. This time she was going down alone.

“It’s okay now, kid.” Kian’s exhausted voice brushed past her. “You’re fine. We’re fine.”

She wasn’t fine. Neither were they. They’d never be fine.

The sky was falling.

The earth moved beneath her feet. The ground opened up. Let it swallow her whole and never return her bones.

Falling through space, she lifted her gaze toward the light far above. She saw Kian reaching a hand toward her, his eyes glowing with warmth, as if it were reserved for her forever.

She knew she didn’t deserve it, but she stretched her hands up toward him, like the baby she was when Jed had brought her to the Red Mansion. And when she’d spotted Kian, she drew out her chubby arms toward him and chose him to be her ultimate protector.

“Help me, Kian.” She heard her broken voice.

Before Kian caught her, Lucienne blacked out.

CHAPTER 4

CONFESSION OF LOVE

Lucienne’s breathing evened out when she saw herself in a white sleeping gown.

The sun settled into late afternoon. The curtain was half-closed. A man slouched in a chair near her bed, his clean-cut head buried in his big, calloused hands.

“Kian,” Lucienne whispered.

He popped open his eyes, raised his head, and sent her a warm smile. “Hey, kid. Didn’t know you were awake.” He twisted open the lid of a bottled water and handed it to her, as if knowing her throat was parched. She drank the water in gratitude.

For the first time, the guards weren’t hovering in the sitting room. She was alone with Kian. She put down the water bottle, now half empty, on the ivory bedside table and regarded him. His eyes were bloodshot. Unshaven stubble made his face look rougher. In his mid thirties, he already had gray hair mixed among the brown strands.

“You’re a mess,” she said.

“You’re no better.” He gave her another smile.

“It’s getting worse,” she admitted. “I think I’m losing it.”

“You’ll hang in here,” he ordered.

She shook her head. “I can’t grasp reality. I can’t get hold of myself anymore. The last person I can trust is myself. I hurt everyone, and I’ll hurt them again. I could never imagine I’d hurt
you
if it hadn’t happened.”

“But you didn’t,” he said. “You only threw me out of the way. It’ll pass, kid. We’ll get through this.”

“No,” she said. “I knew you and the generals were having a meeting about me when I stormed into your office. The men are right to worry about Sphinxes’ future.”

“You’re still the heart and soul of Sphinxes. Its future lies with you.”

“Blind loyalty won’t get us anywhere,” she said. “We need to face reality, especially you. I’ve become a danger to everyone and everything we’ve built.”

“So you just quit?” He sounded like he wanted to shoot someone.

“I’m not quitting,” she said, “but this battle I’ll have to fight alone.”

“You’re not alone! You’ll never fight alone.”

“Kian, our army can’t fight my war. Not this time,” she said. “You have no idea of the dark place I’ve been. Even you can’t go with me. No one can. I’d rather go down alone than drag you all down with me.”

“The day you arrived at the Red Mansion, our fates were already tied together. You were just an infant in my arms biting me, but I knew you’d be at the center of this war. I’ve never regretted choosing to serve and protect you. You gave my life purpose that day.”

Kian had been orphaned at seven years old. He’d watched his parents being slaughtered. Jed found him two days later, took him in as his own son, and gave him the best military training. Kian took off to track down his enemies. Half a year later, he returned with a bullet in his gut and a knife wound stretching from his left shoulder to his chest. News broke out the next day that a notorious gun smuggling lord and four of his bodyguards had died horrendous deaths. At thirteen, Kian had taken them out single-handedly.

He’d never been gentle and warm to anyone until baby Lucienne had clutched his face in her chubby hands and called him “Kia.” That had been her first word. She’d also left her teeth marks in his chin. The power inside her had struck him, and Kian had been the first to recognize her as the true Siren. Their bond had been unbreakable since then. 

“You sink, I sink with you,” Kian said, “but I won’t let you fall.”

Lucienne gave him a long look. “Fine. But leave the men out of our struggle.”

“That I can arrange,” he said. “And kid, just so you know, this is just another battle we fight to win.”

“And just so you know, we no longer fight the enemies we can see. We’re fighting me. A war you and I might not win.”

“Only when you surrender.”

“I promise you I won’t. But I’ll relieve everyone around me, so they won’t be in harm’s way. There will be no house duties either, not even for Aida.”

“That’s a bit extreme, kid.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“How about we give them a choice? If they choose to leave, then that settles it.”

“You know they’ll never choose to leave.”

“Then you’ll be insulting them by forcing them to abandon you.”

“I’m doing this for their good.”

“Let them decide what’s good for them.”

“Neither Vlad nor Ash should come near me again. I almost killed one of them.”

Just then, Ashburn trudged in with a glass of almond milk.Why did everyone assume she should drink milk?

Kian also frowned at Ashburn. “I clearly told everyone, including you, not to disturb us.”

Ashburn must have been watching them through the live feed of Kian’s memories. “I have something important to share.” 

“I hope Blazek won’t pop up in the next second and make this a circus show again,” grunted Kian.

“He’s in the medical center,” Ashburn said. “Duncan dragged him there.”

Her knife had brought him there. Lucienne’s stomach twisted in nausea and pain. She needed to check on him as soon as her companions left, even though she was too ashamed to face her Czech prince.

“That’s what you wanted to share?” Kian flicked his gaze from Lucienne’s anxious expression to Ashburn’s hopeful look.

“I couldn’t care less about Blazek.” Ashburn turned to Lucienne. “I’ve been replaying the fighting scene from different angles, and I found something more about your lapse this time.”

Kian and Lucienne stared at him.

“It wasn’t the insane you who hurt the Czech,” Ashburn said.

“Spit it out,” Kian ordered. “These boys always talk like a clogged pipe.”

“If you hadn’t cut him off,” Lucienne said, “he’d probably have finished his sentence.”

“Lucia, did you summon Forbidden Glory when you fought us?” Ashburn asked. “You couldn’t be that powerful without it. You couldn’t have defeated both Blazek and me at once. You threw Mr. McQuillen into the air by simply raising your hands.”

Remorse hit her anew at the memory of hurting them, but Kian squeezed her shoulder to assure her that he didn’t hold a grudge.

“I called for my power,” she said, “and it responded strongly.”

“That’s what I thought,” Ashburn said. “Don’t use it again before the poison is out of your system. It once helped you defeat your cousin when you were at the Red Mansion, but it almost controlled you. Your power acted erratically because of its lack of aether. Now, with the last element back but contaminated, Forbidden Glory is crippled. It can’t connect to reason. When it manifested, it switched on your insanity, and the poison of Blood Tear makes you too weak to tame it. Forbidden Glory will take you over if you summon it again.”

“Stay away from it!” Kian ordered Lucienne.

“Promise you won’t use it again under any circumstances,” Ashburn said.

“If you promise not to pick a fight with Vladimir again,” she said.

“I’ll restrain from provoking him,” Ashburn said, “and I won’t give in to his taunts.”

Kian gritted his teeth. “Upset her again, and you’re off Sphinxes forever.”

“Yes, sir,” Ashburn said. “You don’t need to worry about that. Blazek doesn’t exist. He’s dead to me.”

Hadn’t he just promised he wouldn’t upset her? Lucienne opened her mouth, but insurmountable exhaustion swept over her. Her heavy eyelids pressed together. She didn’t fight it, knowing she was safe among her protectors.

When she awoke at midnight, her first thought was of Vladimir. She was supposed to visit him in the medical facility in the castle, but fatigue and shame had conquered her. She needed to see him now, to see that he was safe. No matter where he was, she’d seek him out.

As soon as she stepped out of her bedroom, Duncan rose from a chair in the adjoining sitting room. Relief washed over his face when he saw her white gown. “Lucia,” he asked with concern, “you need anything? I’ll fetch it for you.”

“Where’s Vladimir?” she asked.

Duncan hesitated for a second and said, “On the roof.”

“Thanks,” she said and
scrambled
along the hallway toward the stairs.

Duncan didn’t object, but trailed after her. He’d followed her for years. He’d fought with her in many battles. He guarded her with his life but treated her more like a fellow warrior than fragile china, and she appreciated that.

On the rooftop, the starlight silhouetted a lone figure. The ocean wind flapped the corner of Vladimir’s black trench coat. Lucienne loved to come here at night to search for a possible new home in the sky. Was her sanctuary also becoming the Czech prince’s new haven? She didn’t mind sharing it with him. They hadn’t been alone since she’d returned from the Sealers’ temple. Ashburn and Kian had made sure of that.

Ashburn wasn’t around now. He must be sleeping.
God bless his sleep
. He needed it, and she needed this alone time with her Czech boyfriend.

Vladimir slowly turned.

The light from the lanterns in the nearby maple trees made his features darker and sharper. He had a strong face. He’d shed his boyish good looks during these two years on the bumpy road with her. Weighted by guilt, stricken by grief, and beaten by self-loathing, he still looked strikingly handsome. The ugliness of reality couldn’t take away his aristocratic air and breed, even though it savaged him with an often worn-out, ragged appearance.

Yet this new version of Vladimir was closer to Lucienne’s heart. God, she’d almost killed him. If she hadn’t come back to herself, she’d have driven the knife two inches deeper into his heart, killing the warrior prince who loved her more than the world and himself together.

And he hadn’t resisted her. He trusted her when she couldn’t. But then, a dark thought dashed out of the shadows. Deep inside, had he wanted her to end his life? End his suffering?

Vladimir gave her a lazy smile.

Lucienne’s breath hitched. It never got old. His doting, easy smile forever had that effect on her. But was he still hers after what she’d done to him?

No apologies could redeem her. If he chose to be free of her, he’d have her blessing. She’d made Kian swear that his men would let Vladimir go and never hunt him.
The parting would break her heart, but she was no stranger to heartbreak.

She sauntered toward him, the
hem of her gown gliding across the floor.

“A princess from a fairy tale,” he murmured, his hazel eyes brightening as she approached. Lucienne
immediately felt better.

“There’s no fairy tale, and I’m not a princess,” she said.

“You’re more than a princess. You’ll be queen.”

I won’t be a mad queen
. But she didn’t say it. It would only add salt to his wound. He would hate himself all over again for robbing her of a future.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” she said with a faint smile.

“You’ll get well, Lucia,” he said fiercely. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure of it.”

Just don’t do anything stupid
. Again, she swallowed her words.
Since when did she have to hold her tongue around him?
But it would come out wrong
.
She took the simple approach. “
I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You’re sorry,” he asked incredulously, “after what I did to you?”

“When can we get past this guilt trip?”

“When you’re well,” he said.
“And you never need to say sorry to me or explain your actions.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”

He always loved her playful side. His gaze roamed over her with hunger, caressing her without a touch. Heat rose in her and her pulse quickened. The air was suddenly charged. She thought only Ash could do that with the Lure, but Vlad was doing it, all by himself.

He opened his arms. “Come here, crazy chick.”

She blinked, then smiled. Ever since she’d returned from the war, everyone had tried to avoid the words “crazy,” “mad,” “nuts,” “insane,” and anything related to mental illness. These nouns had become the worst profanity in Sphinxes.

She entered his strong arms more than willingly, and he crushed her against his hard chest. He didn’t treat her as if she were a fragile thing, and she liked it. One look at the starvation in his eyes, she knew he’d held himself back for too long.

“Only an idiot dares to call me crazy,” she said, “and likes me when I’m half-crazy.”

“Crazy or not, I love you just the same.” He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, as if it was long overdue and he was deprived.

When she finally pulled away, she pressed her palm gently against his chest, feeling the uneven bandages inside his shirt. “Does it still hurt a lot?”

“My heart always hurts when it comes to you,” he said, “but it beats stronger when you’re around.”