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“Stop treating me like I’m a little girl, Kian McQuillen! You can’t protect me that way. No one can,” Lucienne said, “I’m the Siren.” She matched her mentor’s glare with a fierce, icy stare. “Next time,remember to inform me first. From now on, I’m in command. Jed Lam’s state warrants it.”

“Yes, Master Lam,” Kian said. He looked weary, but there was unmistakable pride in his eyes. A sad tenderness rose in Lucienne. “You’re going to call me Lucia, like you always have,” she said, settling on a bench beside Kian and leaning her head on his hard, broad shoulder. He wrapped his callused hand around her shoulder, letting the silence settle over them until they reached the Lams’ infirmary.

~

Lucienne waited in the hall outside the surgery room with Kian and five guards, including Jonas. She looked haunted from the faint bluish shadows and smeared mascara in the hollow under her eyes. Her brown eyes lingered momentarily on Kian’s wet shoulder. She had been sobbing.

Jed would never expose vulnerability like that. Jed once said that she was more human than any other Siren during tea one afternoon. Being ‘too human’ wasn’t a compliment in Jed’s book.

“I don’t hide how I feel in front of my friends,” Lucienne had said.

“Sirens don’t have friends,” Jed said. “We can’t afford to have them.”

“I’ll continue to cherish loyalty and friendship.”

“That’s your hot Russian blood talking,” Jed said.

Her hair bristled on the back of her neck. The Russian part of her heritage had always earned her the name Russian Wretch or White Trash. “Did you mean that as an insult?” she asked coldly.

“You’re one of a kind. That’s what I meant,” Jed said. “You’re the first female Siren.”

“I can be cold and calculating. You know I excel at that, even though my blood runs hotter than former Sirens’,” Lucienne said. “There’s no need to bring up my mother. I’m not ashamed of my Russian heritage, just as I’m not ashamed of being part of yours. I didn’t choose either.”

“Do things your way. You’re the Siren now.” Jed pushed aside the supreme tea served in Jingdezhen teacups and left abruptly.

That was before he left for the relic site in Egypt.

Lucienne averted her eyes from the wet spot on Kian’s coat. When she stopped weeping, she became the unbreakable Lucienne Lam again.

“Go to bed.” Kian regarded her. “There’s nothing you can do here. If there’s any update, I’ll send news.”

“Why don’t you go rest for a change?” Lucienne said. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I sleep when I can.” Kian pulled her up from the chair. “I’m walking you back to your room. One day is enough for you. There will be more on your plate tomorrow. You’re in command now.”

Lucienne let Kian lead her down the corridor as Jonas trailed behind. When Lucienne and Kian were out of earshot of the guards, Lucienne asked in a hushed but determined voice, “Is Vladimir here, too? I want to see him before I go back to my room.”

“Last I saw him, he was sleeping like a doped monkey in one of the guest rooms,” Kian said.

Lucienne raised an eyebrow.

“He turned out to be fine after he stayed . . . a certain distance from you,” Kian said carefully. “Your nanny gave him a mug of sedating tea that put him to sleep.”

“Why did you wake up Aida?”

“You knew how she is. She never goes to bed before you do, expecting you’ll need her.”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Lucienne grunted. “And Aida isn’t young—”

“Don’t let her hear that.” Kian chuckled. “She won’t be pleased.”

Frosty air assaulted them as they walked out of the infirmary. Lucienne shuddered and Jonas cursed the coldness. Kian, as always, remained untouched.

“You’re right,” he said. “I should stop protecting you like you are a little girl. You’re the Siren, more now than ever. Just don’t grow up too fast for me to catch up.”

“Nothing is too fast for you to catch, Kian. Nothing will ever be too fast for you,” Lucienne said. “But you know a shielded life is never meant for me.” She halted as she caught sight of the Red Mansion a few blocks away with its red tiles. The dawn’s pale light gave the tiles a shadowy look, but soon the sun would rise high, and the roof would shine the color of blood.

“Who did this to my grandfather?” she asked.