The Siren (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 1) Read online

  The last thing she remembered seeing was a kaleidoscope of horror, disbelief, and pain on Vladimir’s face. She had never seen him so helpless. She opened her mouth to tell him something, but she had already forgotten what it was.

  She fought to go up, her hands flying skyward. Then she realized it was a lost cause—death, gravity, and time favored no one. She plunged toward the deep cave beneath.

  Vladimir’s furious cry tore through her hazy mind. There was a snap in her shoulder. More pain shot through her. Out of nowhere, a hand caught her wrist. Lucienne tilted her head, looking up in disbelief—Vladimir’s face suspended above hers. He had dove after her.

  “Gotcha!” He choked in a sob.

  But she kept plummeting. “Who’s got you?” she asked, seeing the triangle hook in his other hand. In a blur, the hook sailed up and attached itself to the ground above.

  It all happened in a flash. She was falling, and then she was safe. He gambled his life for hers, and it turned a miracle.

  “Lucia, darling.” Vladimir laughed.

  Lucienne smiled back. “You’re quite impressed with yourself.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” he asked.

  “What now?”

  Vladimir was strong, but even he couldn’t climb up with one hand while carrying the weight of two. If she wasn’t wounded so badly, she could climb. She cursed herself for choosing this bat hook instead of an automatic one.

  “Can you climb first?” Vladimir asked.

  Agony expanded in every fiber of her being, and every breath hurt like hell, but Lucienne raised her free hand to reach Vladimir’s arm. When her hand stretched a few inches overhead, the pain ruptured inside her. She couldn’t help but scream.

  She heard Vladimir call her name. Pain filled his panicked voice.

  A hot stream gushed out of her wound, and her back felt cold, wet, and scorching, all at once. Her thick robe stuck to her skin. If she continued to climb at this rate, she’d bleed to death before she got to the top, if she didn’t pass out.

  She dropped her hand in defeat. “I’m sorry. I . . . I can’t.”

  “How badly are you wounded?” Vladimir asked.

  “A bullet hit my chest.”

  “I can’t believe the monks were using guns on us,” Vladimir cursed profusely, and then an agonized realization sunk into his voice. “Oh God! You’re bleeding to—” He couldn’t utter the word ‘death.’

  Lucienne struggled to pull the scroll from inside her robe and lift it toward Vladimir’s hand. “Listen, Vlad, there’s no hope for me. We both know that. Now be a good sport. Take this and let me go.”

  “I’ll never let you go!” Vladimir cried in fury.

  Urgent shouts rose from above. Footsteps rolled toward them as the Lama yelled at the warrior monks.

  “The Lama didn’t order the shot,” Vladimir interpreted. “He’s trying to sort out which son of a bitch shot you.” He cranked his head and shouted. “We surrender! Hurry up if you want your scroll!”

  Lucienne choked a miserable laugh.

  “You’ll be all right. Hang in there,” Vladimir begged. “We’ll live to see another day, and I’ll get your scroll back.” He shouted again, “Lama, you want your damned scroll or not? If we fall, we’ll destroy it!”

  “Vlad,” Lucienne’s voice grew weaker. Her strength was bleeding away. “Our hook is on the other side.”

  By the time the monks finally brought them to the surface, she’d be dead because of blood loss. Time was running out, and from Vladimir’s tormented look, she knew he knew it, too.

  “Get ready, Lucia,” Vladimir said. “I’ll toss you up to the ground toward the monk’s side. It will hurt. You might break a rib or two, but you’ll live. You must live!”

  Vladimir started swinging her. Lucienne gritted her teeth at the pain. The hook from the ground began to move. “Stop!” Lucienne screamed. Vladimir might succeed in swinging her up to safety, but the hook would surely give, and he would fall. “I’ll not reach the top without you. I’ll jump back after you,” she said, “If you truly care about me, you let me go now and save yourself.” She twisted her hand, attempting to break free. His grip only tightened.

  “Stop! Listen to me!” he yelled.

  The hook skittered toward the edge again. In less than a minute, it would give way and they would both fall.

  “I’m sorry, Lucia,” Vladimir said in a tender voice. “I love you and always will.”

  And with that, he swung her up.

  CHAPTER 4

  Lucienne’s heart pounded hard in her chest at Vladimir’s profession of love—though the timing couldn’t be worse—and the joy swelling inside her knocked down the horrendous pain for a moment. Using every ounce of her strength, Lucienne brought her other arm up. She caught Vladimir’s hand that was gripping her wrist.

  Jed would be disappointed if he knew how she was handling her survival—she wouldn’t sacrifice Vladimir. She was the new Siren. He had finally found an heir. He’d be enormously angry. Her mind skirted to Kian. He would be devastated and probably would never recover from the blow of her death. And her nanny would cry endlessly. But Lucienne had made her choice.

  “You aren’t getting rid of me, Vladimir Blazek,” she said.

  Her declaration was drowned out by thunder. The monks above screamed in Tibetan, running away from the chasm. A second later, Lucienne realized that the thunder was from a helicopter. Then ear-piercing gunshots rained hellfire from above.

  The bat hook made one last jerk and slipped toward the chasm.

  Lucienne felt the fall again. She wanted to say something to Vladimir, something remarkable to overshadow her hollow death, but words escaped her. She only managed to whisper, “Vlad.”

  Her whisper was lost in the sounds of a military helicopter flying above them. It was an AH-64D Apache Longbow. Tears streaked down her face when she saw Kian McQuillen’s remarkable silhouette.

  With his feet fastened to the landing skid of the attack helicopter, Kian dove. His left hand caught the claws of the bat hook that slipped toward the chasm.

  The helicopter climbed up and banked off the chasm.

  Orlando, her other protector and Kian’s longtime friend, squatted at the other side of the cabin door, his sniper rifle shooting at the warrior monks to keep them at bay.

  “Kian, you came,” Lucienne whimpered. With the arrival of her elite warriors, she and Vladimir were safe at last.

  “Lucia, hang in there!” Kian shouted over the gunshots.

  “She’s shot. She’s lost too much blood!” Vladimir shouted. “She needs to get to a medic within two minutes!”

  “Speed up!” Kian yelled toward the pilot inside the helicopter. “Damn it! The Siren’s hurt!”

  The helicopter picked up speed. The magnificent monastery, the valley, and the warrior monks fell away in a blur. Lucienne vaguely remembered passing a river but couldn’t remember its name. Cold occupied her mind like an endless fog. She had never thought cold could be worse than pain, but it was—it was numbing her will to stay alive. If Vladimir’s warm hand hadn’t gripped hers so tightly, she’d have been reduced to pieces of ice.

  “We’ll go no further,” Kian ordered. “Clear any barrier.”

  The helicopter lowered itself toward the plain. When the chopper was seventy-feet or so from the ground, Orlando and three soldiers—one of them a military medic—rappelled from the other side of the cabin door.

  When they descended to Lucienne, Orlando and another soldier reached for her, securing and carrying her to the ground. No one paid attention to Vladimir, who leapt onto a spare rope and glided to the ground after the medic.

  Lucienne realized that she was lying on damp ground. Faces blurred in and out of her vision. Vaguely someone said her bleeding had been stopped but that she had already lost too much blood. Then, somehow, she was inside the helicopter again, flying. She loved flying, but not this time. This time it hurt too much.

  She saw Dr. Wren’s dark eyes and bushy eye
brows hovering above her. Dr. Wren was the Lams’ doctor. Lucienne heard the doctor yelling at Vladimir, “Shut your mouth, boy. Let a professional do his job.” It seemed Vladimir was trying to persuade the short-tempered doctor to give her some painkillers.

  She’d love to experience numbness overtake the discomfort, but painkillers weren’t for Sirens. All Sirens and their doctors knew this. Sirens regenerated faster than others, but painkillers prolonged their recovery time. Dr. Wren did, however, give her a partial anesthetic while he worked on extracting the bullet. He also gave her a blood transfusion. The blood was from the blood bank in Red Mansion. Only the Lams’ trusted family doctors, the Sirens, and Kian had access to the bank. The rare blood was for the Sirens only. After a Siren was marked during the ritual, his or her blood became compatible only with former Sirens. She had heard the horror stories about former Sirens who drained themselves when they knew their end was coming to reserve their blood for their heirs. Kian, who always acted three steps ahead, must have brought the whole package—the doctor and bags of Sirens’ blood.

  Everyone continued fussing over her while she felt detached. She slowly sank into unconsciousness only to be brought back by the pain. She thought she had told Dr. Wren to take care of Vladimir’s bleeding hand, but she wasn’t sure. Maybe she only told the doctor to help Vladimir in her mind. She couldn’t tell the difference.

  When Lucienne slid back into awareness, she was relieved to see that Vladimir’s hand had indeed been bandaged. He was searching her face, worried for her, suspicious of everyone else, and angry with himself. It seemed that he had kept his promise to stay close to her.

  “You risked her life. If she hadn’t survived, you wouldn’t have been allowed to breathe the air again.” That was Kian, his tone spitting cold fury. “Even terminating you like a pathetic insect wouldn’t give me pleasure.”

  “You wouldn’t have a chance to lay your uncouth fingers on me, if she hadn’t survived,” Vladimir answered. “In my bloody rage, I’d drag down whoever stood in my path. If you’re smart, you’d know to stay away from me. I’m only warning you because we both know she’d be upset if it’s you I take down.”

  This was bad. No one said things like that to Kian. Lucienne opened her mouth, desperately wanting to stop them from fighting, but her tongue was still numb and her jaw wouldn’t cooperate. Neither of them noticed her weak glare.

  Kian snorted. “Take me down?”

  The men in the helicopter rumbled with laughter.

  “What?” Vladimir’s voice was hoarse with anger. “You think I can’t?”

  Orlando laughed to tears. “This is hilarious.”

  Lucienne felt sorry for Vladimir. He was a lone wolf facing Kian’s superb pack. But Vladimir wasn’t backing down. “I know more about you than you think. I have open files on everyone around her.” Vladimir scanned the faces with a defiant, smug look. He singled out Orlando, naming his obsession with fish. After Vladimir named every soldier’s habits, hobbies, and family members, he upped the ante by calling out their weakness as well. This got their attentions. The men stopped laughing and glared at Vladimir.

  Dr. Wren chuckled. “Kian McQuillen, you’ve met your match, according to spy boy.”

  “Don’t call me boy!” Vladimir growled.

  “How old are you, boy?” Dr. Wren regarded Vladimir in amusement. “Aren’t old enough to have a driver’s license, are you?”

  The soldiers burst into raucous, vengeful laughter.

  Lucienne stared hard at Dr. Wren to warn him not to stir up more trouble, but the doctor pretended not to see.

  “Old enough to fly a jet,” Vladimir said.

  “After we get Lucia home, send the boy right back to his uncle on the next flight,” Kian said.

  Lucienne inhaled. If Kian knew about Vladimir’s uncle, then he must have a file on Vladimir and know her friend is the last descendent of the royal Czech bloodline. She had been naïve to believe that she had kept things between her and Vladimir airtight.

  She must prevent Kian from sending Vladimir away. “No!” she cried. Her desperation finally helped her break through her vocal barrier.

  “I won’t leave her,” Vladimir challenged Kian. “And no one can make me!”

  Everyone ignored Vladimir but turned to Lucienne.

  “Lucia, dear child,” Dr. Wren asked gently. “How do you feel?”

  “Kid, we’ll get you home soon,” Kian said, holding her hand.

  “Lucia, I’m here.” Vladimir fought to hold her other hand, despite Kian’s vicious glare.

  “Vladimir stays.” Lucienne looked at Kian. “He’s earned it.”

  “By leading you into a blind chase and throwing you into the abyss?” Kian gritted his teeth toward Vladimir.

  “By diving after me and saving my life,” Lucienne said. “And it wasn’t a blind chase. We got the second scroll.” A satisfied smile floated to her face as she watched Kian’s eyes go wide. She turned toward Vladimir, who squeezed her hand gently.

  “Rest. I know talking hurts.” Vladimir turned to glare at Kian. “Don’t bug her again. She needs rest. Dr. Wren, you should guard your patient.”

  “You don’t get to order me, boy!” Dr. Wren said. “I know how to treat my patient. Now, hands off! Respect her personal space.”

  That backfired. Lucienne watched Dr. Wren drive Vladimir away from her. Kian was more than willing to agree with the doctor. Vladimir was banished to the back of the helicopter, to brood in the corner.

  Lucienne closed her eyes.

  “I’m not done with you yet, Blazek!” Kian shouted toward the back. “Next time come to me first! Now, tell me why you put her in grave danger.”

  “If I knew Lucia was going to get hurt, I’d never have gotten her involved,” Vladimir said. “It was entirely my fault. But at the time, the plan seemed perfect. Lucia and I had to do it alone. We waited until her grandfather was on his jet to a relic site, while all the attention was on him. We then made it look like we eloped.”

  “Eloped?” Kian’s voice was hard.

  “Would you have had a better strategy?” Vladimir asked.

  “The last thing Lucia would do is elope with you,” Kian sneered. “But go on.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Vladimir retorted. “And if you keep interrupting me, I won’t get to the best part—the part you’re dying to know.”

  Lucienne sighed, knowing Vladimir would never miss a chance to brag, particularly to Kian. “We opened the vault that no one has been able to since 775CE. The monks hadn’t a clue their Holy Grail was right inside the Gonkhang Chapel. You know what Bön demon is, right?”

  “Just finish the damn story,” Kian said.

  “I wish you could have been there to watch how we removed one impossible obstacle after another. She was awesome. We both were,” Vladimir said. Lucienne could feel his gaze caressing her.

  “If you were that awesome, how did you almost end up in the bottom of that abyss with over a thousand warrior monks on your sorry ass?” Kian questioned.

  Lucienne opened her eyes, in time to see Vladimir’s reaction. He blinked his long lashes, pain and fury moving across his striking features. “It’s true. I almost cost her life. If you hadn’t shown up, we’d probably be dead. I swear to God, I’m going back to Samye to make them pay!”

  “The bullet wasn’t from the monks,” Kian said.

  “Did someone follow us?” Lucienne asked. A fire of dark anger leapt into her eyes.

  Kian nodded. The line on his face hardened. “The sniper followed you from the continent. We got Intel, but a bit too late. I almost lost you.” He paused, collecting himself. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and gentle. “If there’s anything you want in the future, you can always come to me,” he said. “Don’t just run away. Promise me you’ll never do that again.”

  “Fine,” Lucienne said. “But how did you find us? I left no trail.”

  “It took me a few hours to figure out where you’d headed afte
r you lost your three bodyguards,” Kian said. “They freaked out.”

  “I’ll buy them some nice gifts after I get home,” Lucienne said with a resigned sigh.

  “They don’t care about gifts. Your safety is everything to them. You’re only lucky your enemies thought you eloped with that idiot hotshot. If they had known you were onto something this big—”

  “—they’d have sent an army after us?” Vladimir asked incredulously.

  “They definitely would,” said Orlando.

  “Is it the Sealers who sent the assassin?” Lucienne felt bile in her mouth.

  “Who are the Sealers?” Vladimir asked.

  “The rise of a female Siren has awoken all those who failed to reach the throne themselves. Lucienne’s enemies, inside and out, formed a secret society called the Sealers a few months ago,” Dr. Wren chimed in. “Their sole purpose is to put our dear girl inside a coffin and seal it.”

  “They’ll have to crawl over my dead body to get to her!” Vladimir’s eyes flared black fire. “I’ll bury this cult alive in a cheap coffin and seal them for good.”

  “Orlando shot the sniper. The evidence died with the assassin, but we’ll get to the bottom of this. Right now,” Kian darted a grim glance at Vladimir, “you might want to consider where to place that hot potato before your grandfather gets home.”

  “Vladimir isn’t a problem,” Lucienne said. “I’m also the Siren. I don’t need Jed’s approval. My personal business is mine alone. Vlad will stay.”

  “Hey, I’m still here,” Vladimir said. “I understand you guys are fascinated with me, but I’d appreciate it if you two would check with me first on how I’d like things to get done.”

  “It isn’t easy for Jed,” Kian told Lucienne. “He’s fading, and you only get stronger.”

  “Should I be blamed for being young and strong?” Lucienne said over Kian’s forlorn look. The power struggle between her grandfather and her hadn’t been easy on anyone, particularly Kian. But then it was never easy to have two Sirens. “Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll negotiate nicely with my grandfather.”