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“You’re not yourself when you get close to him.”

“I don’t know.” Frustration edged Lucienne’s voice. “He activated the Eye of Time, and he inherited some of its power. Somehow, my body responds to him or the power in him. I guess it’s this damn Siren thing.” The irony was, she realized, she wasn’t the Siren, but the power was, and it sang to entrap her.

“Did he use the power to compel you?” Kian’s voice turned hard.

“I don’t think either of us have that kind of capability over each other.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, until we figure it out. We have to stop this . . . thing.”

“We’ll stop it.” Glancing at Lucienne, Kian added, “And don’t worry about Blazek. He’ll have to suck it up.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Lucienne treaded through the endless desert, her lips parched from thirst. Then she spotted a peach ahead. Her wobbly legs moved toward it, but before she could scoop it up, someone snatched the fruit. Lucienne lashed out, hand wrapping around the person’s pale throat.

A hand with iron strength removed her grip from his throat. She looked up at the thief’s perfect, white-marble face. “You have to learn to share, Lucienne Lam,” Ashburn said.

Inside her tent, Lucienne was sleeping on her stomach in her sleeping bag. Strong hands shook her. She slapped them away, turned to her side, and continued to sleep. “Mine,” she murmured.

“Wake up, Lucia,” Kian said, a doting smile in his voice.

Lucienne fluttered open one eye. “I was thirsty. I finally found a peach, but that damn Fury boy—”

“That damned Fury boy is here to see you.”

“Ashburn?”

“Who else? The Furys only have the one child.”

Two, actually,she thought. The other died a stillborn just before baby Ashburn was left in the inner garden anonymously. That was the bitterest secret Lucienne dug up from Clement’s mind.

She opened the other eye, rubbing it. “Why must that farm boy visit us at this goddamn hour?”

“Goddamn hour?” Kian asked. “You’re the only one who’s still asleep. The men were up two hours ago.”

She had stayed up late last night, watching Ashburn sleep through her computer screen from the satellite feed, and learned when he wasasleep, he didn’t have the power to block the satellite. She also learned that Ashburn suffered from night terrors. She wondered what type of nightmare went on in that uncharted, mysterious mind of his.

“But the sun hasn’t even risen yet,” she grunted.

Kian quirked an eyebrow.

“Fine.” She sat up. “Let him wait in the guest tent.”

Kian handed her a bottle of spring water, and she threw her head back and drained half the bottle. “Still thirsty, Kian.”

Shaking his head, Kian left the tent so she could get ready.

Lucienne tried to smooth the knots in her thick hair with a comb. “I’m no good at this. Aida does a much better job,” she murmured to herself while putting on a dandelion cashmere sweater, tight jeans, and boots. Before she flapped the tent open, she snatched a cream-colored slouchy hat and put it on.

It was close to dawn. The horizon was still dimly-lit.

“Good morning, Queen Lucienne,” Ashburn said, his hands shoved into his pockets. Leaning on the silvery gate, he looked her over in approval, his eyes a light shade of blue, like ice from the purest glacier.

His black sweater stretched tightly across his chest. A white scarf casually wrapped around his neck gave him an elegant air.

“Indeed, good early morning,” Lucienne greeted him back, sauntering toward him.