Page 3

Present

Tibet

“We don’t have all the time in the world. You know that, don’t you, Prince Vladimir?” Lucienne Lam’s voice was rich and sweet.

At five feet eleven inches, there wasn’t the slightest awkwardness about her. Instead, her height and athletic figure gave her a regal air. She was wearing a Tibetan outfit—a close-fitting robe and shirt, with a colorful apron of narrow stripes. From her left ear hung a silver ring decorated with turquoise—a disguised detonator.

“Don’t say my name out loud, Lucia,” the boy whispered back, “if you don’t want those angry monks on our tails. For pirates’ sake, we’re trying to rob the monastery, and I’m the only Blazek who has spent three months with them.” His hands fumbled on the wall of frescoes, looking for a hidden button in the Gonkhang Chapel. “And we do have time. We damaged the Assembly Hall’s corridor yesterday, remember? The monks have sealed off this section.”

Unconvinced, Lucienne glanced at the entrance before sliding her gaze back to Vladimir. Catching a smug expression on his exceptionally good-looking face, she rolled her eyes. “It’s been two years since you studied with the monks. They’ve probably forgotten all about you.”

When he looked back at her, she quickly turned her whiskey-brown eyes to the incense burners. She didn’t want him to catch her studying his fine-boned nose and cheekbones that betrayed his aristocratic breeding.

“They remember me.” Vladimir winked. His gaze was hot on Lucienne’s face. He wasn’t shy about staring at her. “Not many guys have eyes as gorgeous as mine.”

Vladimir Blazek was seventeen. Even at six feet four inches, he lithely navigated the burning lamps and bowls of holy water as he moved along the altar. He wore a Tibetan robe of the left-sleeves style, exposing his broad shoulder. Lucienne insisted that left-sleeve was the current Tibetan fashion, denying that she wanted a peek at his well-structured torso, as Vladimir had claimed.

“The monks don’t care about pretty eyes like we do,” said Lucienne.

“Then you must have noticed,” Vladimir said. “Do you find my eyes irresistible?”

“You’re asking the wrong girl, Blazek! The girls you’re with may tell you your eyes—or any other body parts—are irresistible, but I have standards.”

“Werewith.” Vladimir corrected with a sigh. “That was before I met you. How could I know you were occupying a corner patch of the earth?”

“You told me you’d heard a lot about me when we first met in Desert Cymbidium.”

“Well, everyone’s heard about you. The military school was founded by your family, and you’re the first female heir of the Lams. But you have a tough reputation. They say you aren’t a nice girl.”

“Is that why you challenged me?” Her almond eyes sparked in the dim light. She watched him fasten the bottom of his robe to his waist. Under the robe, he wore hunter’s trousers and boots. She let her eyes linger on his long, strong legs as he pulled a scanner from the portable shrine strapped to his shoulder.

“The instructor should have kicked you out for playing dirty like that,” Vladimir said.

“But everyone was delighted to see how I made you eat mud.”

“Unfortunately for me, I can no longer treat you like—”

“Like you treat your other girls?” Lucienne’s voice turned icy. “You treat girls like dirt. You’re a jerk. I should never have let you persuade me to come here.”

“You want this, Lucia. You didn’t need much persuasion,” said Vladimir.

That statement struck home. She wanted this desperately, more than he could ever know. Lucienne sighed. Her enemies, most of them her own family, had formed a secret boys’ club. They wanted her head on a silver platter before her sixteenth birthday—when her reign as Siren would begin. Which was less than a month away.

But if she succeeded and obtained one of the two remaining ancient scrolls, the rest of the family would gain confidence in her, and resistance against having a female Siren would diminish. She’d stop a family war. However, Lucienne wouldn’t confess any of this to the Czech prince. She kept a blank expression as she watched him press the scanner against the wall.

“It’s here.” Vladimir raised his gaze from the device. “Now where is the damn button? I’ve groped every inch of the wall.” He leaped down from the altar, not spilling a drop of the water in the seven bowls that rested on top. His eyes grew anxious as he surveyed the room.

“I won’t blame you if we go home empty-handed, you know,” Lucienne said. “I appreciate any time away from those endless meetings with my grandfather’s cronies.”

“Politics will forever be a part of your life,” Vladimir said, not without sympathy.

“You’re an heir, too. Doesn’t your uncle hold you to family obligations? I heard he’s not easy to fend off.”

“The old man wants me to mate with a girl he picks and breed the next heir immediately.” Vladimir shrugged a shoulder. “He’s quite disappointed in me.”

Lucienne drew a sharp breath. “Are you going to do that?”

“Do what? Disappoint him?”