The Siren (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 1) (11 page)

“And that’s my fault?”  

“No.”

“My trust in you hasn’t diminished, Vlad.”

Vladimir blinked, his eyes turning back to a pair of shining stars deep in space. “You really mean that?”   

“You need a token or something?” She tilted her head to look at him.  

Vladimir laughed softly. The smile on his face radiated. The heat they’d both held back for too long was rekindled, burning away all the unhappy hours they’d spent apart. Vladimir turned his smoldering gaze to Lucienne’s lips. She knew what he desired the most—a kiss. A kiss with all the promise of deliciousness, tenderness, and long-delayed fulfillment.  

“Not yet, Vladimir!” she warned.  

“I’m not a fool,” he whispered. “I know we must find the portal first. We’ll find it. Look how we’ve already secured the impossible. Nothing can stop us now, and I’m a patient man.”

“Since when?” She gave him an amused look.

“Fine, I’m in the process,” Vladimir said, his eyes darting back to her lips. “In the meantime, it can’t hurt to look.” Then suddenly, he let out a painful cry.  

Oh God! Not again.
Lucienne felt her blood freezing in her. They weren’t even touching. They were just looking! Then her eyes went wide. The pain didn’t come from her. Electric sparks and black fire discharged from the data reader Vladimir was holding.

“Drop it!” she cried.

Vladimir tossed it to the ground. Electricity still emanated from the reader. Lucienne reached for Vladimir’s hand, turning it. A series of blisters popped up on his palm.

“It’s nothing,” Vladimir said.

“Go get the medic kit from the airship,” said Lucienne.

“I told you I’m fine,” Vladimir said impatiently. “I’m not leaving you.”

“It’s a second-degree burn. Don’t make me leave the site and go with you. You know I can’t leave while it’s here.”

“And you know I can’t leave you while I’m not sure if you’re safe. So stop fussing. What are a few blisters to a warrior?”

Shaking her head, Lucienne turned back to the Eye of Time. A fascinated expression crossed her face. “It doesn’t like to be tested.” 

“Obviously,” Vladimir grunted.

Then, without warning, all the flashlights died. Hell Gate sank into pitch blackness.

Vladimir hit a button on his radio. No sound. He dialed his encrypted Eidolon phone. No reception. “All signals are blocked,” Vladimir stated, wheeling around to seek the threat. 

The commandos fanned out into a defensive position in the absence of light.

“I’m checking BL7,” Orlando called. A moment later, he called again, “The engine’s dead.”

“We’re in a dead zone,” Vladimir said.

Lucienne glued her eyes to the metallic eye that sparkled with a faint, ice-blue light. “It’s communicating.”  

As she spoke, strange symbols, numbers, and glyphs swarmed inside the Eye’s dark lens. The display lasted less than half a minute, then the data vanished. The Eye of Time remained quiescent. Only the town in the distance sparkled in a magnificent light.  

“Let’s send Orlando in to check out the town,” Vladimir said. “The king and his guards are nasty. They might—”

“The natives have nothing to do with the blackout,” Lucienne said. “The Eye of Time is trying to punish us.” She pulled out a platinum necklace from under her jacket, unclasping it. At the end of the chain was an eye-shaped, gold locket. Lucienne pressed the pin on one side of the pendant. The locket slowly opened, revealing an intricately designed holder that contained a half-white, half-black, and translucent liquid. A wisp of gas hovered over its surface.  

“What is that?” Vladimir asked.

“Twilight Water, an heirloom,” Lucienne said. “An object that goes beyond three dimensions.” Over Vladimir’s questioning look, she added. “Former Sirens had it tested, but human technology can’t decode its elements.”

“How many skeletons are you keeping in your closet, Lucia?” Vladimir asked. 

“You don’t exactly pour your heart out with me either, Blazek.” 

“What do you mean by that? I always bare my secrets at your feet. And now I know I’m the only one doing that.”

“Are we going to argue right now?”

“Should I schedule a time then? Is your book full?”  

Biting her lip, Lucienne moved the locket toward the Eye on the gate. “If we can’t control it, we’ll be stuck here, like the natives.” She didn’t tell Vladimir that she knew it’d be much worse for them if they were. She had read a warning of threat from the Eye through her Siren’s link. If the Twilight Water didn’t encompass it at first contact, the Eye of Time would incinerate her to ashes. 

“Ziyi knows where we are,” Vladimir said.

“If anyone comes, they’ll be stuck here just like us,” Lucienne said. “So if I can’t get this thing working, we’ll have to find a way to warn them not to come.”

“Tell that to Kian McQuillen. They’ll all come for you, even if it is a death trap,” Vladimir said. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

“So you’re not mad at me anymore for keeping a few secrets?”

“You have more?” Vladimir sighed. “I would be much angrier if we were stuck in different worlds. I would go crazy if I didn’t know you were safe at every turn.”

“Now I really have to make this thing work.” Lucienne slammed the open locket onto the Eye and waited for the worst.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Vladimir stood beside her, tense as a whip, his hands suspended in the air, ready to catch her if she was thrown backward again.

A weight fell into her hand.

It’s mine!
“The Eye of Time is ours,” she said.

An enchanted fire shimmered in her eyes, and Vladimir pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his hard chest. His hands moved toward the small of her back possessively. She could hear clearly his unspoken word, “You’re mine!” Closing the locket with the Eye of Time inside the cage, she threw her arms around his neck.

The flashlights exploded to life, spotlighting them, their entwined shadow waltzing on the gate. The flooded light was so intense that Lucienne instantly shut her eyelids. Vladimir whirled her around, turning her back to the lights, and growled at the warriors.

“Sorry, Lucia,” Orlando said, “The men didn’t see this coming.” He then yelled at them, and the men all turned their flashlights into the opposite direction and apologized profusely.

“Stop apologizing. But please give us a little notice next time,” Lucienne said, shaking her head with a smile. She pressed her palm against Vladimir’s handsome face before she pulled away from him and walked to the warriors. “We have what we came for. Let’s go home and celebrate.”

As the men whistled and cheered, the distant town plunged into blackness.  

“What happened to the village?” Orlando asked.

“Someone’s coming,” Vladimir warned.

A pillar of light moved toward them from the border of Hell Gate.

“Code Three!” Orlando pulled out his combat knife and dashed toward the light. The giant and the other commandos fanned out, closing in on the spot of light from either side.

Vladimir guarded Lucienne, though she didn’t really need a shield. Orlando grabbed the unknown figure running toward them and threw him to the ground. Dropping to a knee, he put his knife to the person’s throat. “It’s that peasant girl,” he called over his shoulder, removing his knife.

Lucienne strode toward them with Vladimir beside her.

The light on the ground illuminated the redhead’s heart-shaped face. Lucienne picked up the light bar the girl had dropped, studying it. She twisted the bar. There was no opening. It shone on its own as the only source of light in this blackout town.

Orlando extended his hand to help the girl, but she hit his hand away and got up on her own. “I’m not a peasant girl! I have a name,” she said.

“Violet, right?” Lucienne asked.  

“Give me back my light pen!” Violet reached toward Lucienne.

Lucienne gave the pen back to the girl. “What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you,” the girl said, then stopped, startled as Ziyi’s voice buzzed out of a radio in Orlando’s belt. “Dragonfly was blocked for twenty minutes. A commotion is breaking out in the town. The natives have vowed to take down all of you. Kind of scary.”  

“What do you want to talk about?” Lucienne turned to Violet. “Make it quick. Apparently I have a war to fight.”

“Can your machine bird find my friend?”

“Which friend?” Lucienne already knew.

“Ash,” Violet said fiercely. “Your bird can find him. You must find him!”

“My bird can do many things, but my warriors are eager to go home,” Lucienne said, testing the girl. “Why should they stay and search for him? He’s nothing to me.”

“If you find him, he’ll help you build a bigger and faster machine bird.”

Lucienne laughed musically. “He’s only a farm boy, like the rest.”

Anger blazed in Violet’s eyes. “Ash is nothing like the rest! I’ll show you.” She shoved her hand inside her odd-looking peasant green blouse.

Vladimir kept the girl in sight, ready to pounce if she produced a weapon. Lucienne darted an amused glance at him. After spending two years with her, he was now aware that every girl had the potential to be dangerous.

Violet dragged out a silver flute. Vladimir relaxed his shoulders, but Lucienne fixed her eyes on the instrument—it might not be an ordinary flute. Before she could question the girl, Violet placed the lip plate below her lower lip and breathed into the embouchure hole.

High-pitched screams filled the air.

Orlando and the warriors threw their hands over their ears, doubling over. Lucienne clenched her teeth, while Vladimir, his strength barely holding out, lunged at Violet, snatched the flute from her, and blew a lungful of air into the mouthpiece that her lips had just touched.

The scream persevered.  

Beads of perspiration crawled down the warriors’ faces and their eyes bulged in anguish.

Vladimir bent the weapon against his knee, but it was unbreakable. He smashed it onto the ground. Nothing worked. He dropped the flute as the horrible sounds became too much. Staggering, he raised his gun and leveled it at Violet, who remained untouched. 

“Don’t . . . shoot!” Lucienne warned. She knew if the redhead died, the sound would never be turned off. “Turn . . . it off . . . now!” she commanded Violet. 

Violet picked up the tool and blew air into the opposite end of the flute. The screech ceased instantly. “Ash made the Screamer. It doesn’t hurt me or Ash’s family,” the girl gloated. “Only he and I can turn it off. Would you like me to show you again?”

Lucienne’s face was still pale from the onslaught. “You’ve made your point. But if you try it again, my men will shoot you.” Her soft approach from moments ago was gone. Lucienne had steel in her eyes. 

“Ash didn’t set the sound to the killing range. I wasn’t going to kill you,” Violet said without sympathy or even a hint of regret.

“You turn it on again, we will kill you,” Lucienne asked. “Do you understand?”

Violet glared at Lucienne, then nodded. “Will you help find Ash?”

“Besides Ashburn, who else can make things like that?” Lucienne asked.

“No one,” Violet said. “The others are all mean and useless.” 

“We have a more urgent matter, Lucia,” Vladimir said. “The riot—”

“The riot can wait,” Lucienne shifted to Russian. “We must find this boy first. I don’t want anyone else getting to him before I know if he is the one who tampered with the Eye of Time.” She turned to Violet, shifting back to English. “You can tell me more about your friend inside my bird.”

“Fine,” Violet said. “Thank you.”

Lucienne didn’t hear appreciation or trust in the girl’s voice. She knew the redhead had no choice but to rely on them, strangers, to find her friend.  

“Don’t thank me yet. I need payment for our efforts,” Lucienne said.

“I don’t have money.” Violet’s lips tightened; her eyes flashed panic.

“The Screamer will do. I can’t risk letting you use it against us again.”  

“I won’t. I give you my word.”

Lucienne laughed softly. “Words are cheap.”

“Not mine. This Screamer is Ash’s. I can’t just give it to you.”

“Suit yourself,” Lucienne said. “We’re leaving.” She said to her warriors. “If she attempts to use it again, shoot her hands.” She headed to the aircraft, her men flanking her.

Orlando walked backward, his gun trained before him, his eyes on Violet.

“Take it!” Violet scurried toward Lucienne.

Lucienne signaled for Orlando to get the Screamer. He took it from the redhead and held it like it was a snake.

“Follow us,” Vladimir commanded Violet.

Lucienne let Orlando take the co-pilot seat beside Vladimir as she sat with the redhead in the back. Orlando offered to fly BL7, but Vladimir politely turned him down. The two argued heatedly for a few seconds.

“Orlando will fly it when we go home,” Lucienne intervened.