Page 15

“The king could have thrown you out to the wilderness and fed you to the beast. Your son stepped into this forbidden place and caused the realm of Nirvana great trouble,” the queen said. “But I’m merciful.” She looked at the wheelchair wearily, then at the gate. “I will let you stay.”

The bulky guard raised his boot, about to stomp the male farmer’s head. His wife shrieked in horror while the guards guffawed at her reaction. She threw her hands over her husband’s head helplessly.

BL7 swooped down with a roar.

The bulky guard stopped in his tracks. Everyone looked up at the sky, spellbound. The king recovered first. Lucienne lip-read his shouting, “The outsiders have come! Kill them! Kill them all!” He then motioned for his wife and son to follow him as he scurried back toward town.

The guards pulled out their daggers. “They can come, but they won’t go back!” the lead guard vowed.

The youngest guard broke into a cruel grin. “My dagger wants the taste of new blood.”

“Be aware,” Lucienne turned to her crew, “the natives want a war.”

“Then they’ll have it,” the soldiers answered.

With a boom, BL7 landed twenty yards before the royal family, cutting off their retreat. The machine’s triangle door slid open. Orlando led the commandos out. The warriors advanced with automatic rifles before them. Lucienne stepped out of the aircraft after her soldiers.

The king swung his arm in the air and shouted in French. “Take them down!”

The guards wielded their long daggers and charged.

“I need them alive,” Lucienne told her men, “if possible.”

Vladimir hacked his sanjiegun in the air, and rushed toward the guards with a battle cry.

Slinging their automatic weaponry over their shoulders, Orlando and Cam, a giant commando at seven-feet-one-inch, drew their combat knives.

Duncan, a member of the team that rescued Lucienne from Tibet, caught up with Vladimir.

The two sides crashed; the sound of clashing steel echoed.

Lucienne made her way toward the king and queen. She knew her men hated the idea of her facing a threat without them by her side, but they were too busy to mind her now. They’d complain later, and that was fine.

Three feet from the king, Lucienne stopped. Producing an ID badge from the pocket of her leather jacket, she held it up. “My name is Lucienne Lam, an agent from the Geographic & Abnormal Weather Investigation Institute. We’re here to investigate abnormal climatic activities in this area.”

The king spat. “This is my land. You’re not granted entrance!”

“This land is on the soil of the United States of America. Every American can come and go freely in the fifty states.” Lucienne let her cold smile carry weight.

As a child, Jed had trained her how to make a look kill, and the king, who was double her age, cringed.

Lucienne dove into his opponent’s mind. The king and his people had never heard of the United States. How long had they been isolated?

“The United States—” the king paused.

“—of America,” Lucienne offered.

“—has no claims or rights to my realm,” the king hissed, his eyes burning with spite. “As for you, nasty little girl, kneel and beg, and perhaps I’ll spare your life and make you my house servant.”

“You’re a fool,” Lucienne said.

The king lunged, swinging his stout arm at Lucienne, aiming for her face.

Faster than a bullet, Lucienne caught the king’s wrist, gave it a yank, and used the heavy man’s weight against him. The king flew over Lucienne’s shoulder and collapsed to the ground with a thud, a groan, and a stunned look.

“A nice girl might put up with you.” Lucienne stepped her booted foot on the king’s neck. “But as you said, I am not one.” Despite the king’s hands being free, he couldn’t move an inch. Her acupoints meridian held him immobile.

“Black magic!” the queen cried.

“Give me a break, lady,” said Lucienne. Ignoring the queen’s whimper, she turned to check on her warriors.

The battle had quieted. Six of the king’s guards were on the ground, unconscious or semi-conscious.

The other three who remained standing were held by Orlando and his men, their blades against the guards’ throats.

With an easy grin, Vladimir sauntered toward her, a lock of hair drenched in sweat dangling at the corner of his bright hazel eye.

Lucienne sucked in a quick breath. Even in the midst of battle, he still had that effect on her.

Not wanting him to know he dazed her, Lucienne swept her glance over the rest of the islanders.

The farm couple had sat up, still in each other’s arms. The man’s thumb gently wiped the blood off his wife’s split lips, but the wife was more concerned with her husband’s injuries. The redhead was with them.

Vladimir, now standing by Lucienne’s side, snarled. Lucienne followed his line of sight. The blond prince was watching her with a strange blend of hatred, fascination, and lust. “You, blond boy!” Vladimir yelled viciously. “Keep your ugly eyes on the ground!”

The prince fixed his eyes on the ground a few inches from his feet.

Lucienne shook her head. She had dealt with Vladimir’s possessiveness, but now he wouldn’t allow other males to even look at her? But then, the prince had coveted her.

The queen’s Spanish drew Lucienne’s attention back to the king. “I’m queen and Priestess Isis, the gods’ messenger.” The queen’s lips trembled. “The gods will strike you down if you harm King Henry!”

“Will the gods strike me with lightning or fire if I do this?” Lucienne replied in Spanish and pressed her foot on the king’s throat, sending his eyes rolling back. His chunky face reddened, and then turned purple from lack of oxygen.

“Stop!” the queen cried. “We’ll give you whatever you want. The kingdom can’t survive without a king.”

“You have me, Mother,” the prince said.

“The gods are on my side now, not yours.” Lucienne released the pressure of her foot to let the king breathe.

“You’ve conquered us,” the queen said in defeat. “Name your price.”

“What can you offer me?” Lucienne asked.

“I’d rather die than hand you my throne!” the king choked.

“My king!” the queen cried. “This is the darkest day in our kingdom, but we must live up to the gods’ test!”

“I have no desire for your crown,” Lucienne said.

The king and the queen held their breath, staring at Lucienne.

“Must I keep telling you I’m only interested in the weather here?” Lucienne sighed.

“Then you have my permission to . . . investigate.” The king let out a harsh breath. “Under the condition you depart my land as soon as you finish your affair.”

“Your permission, really?” Lucienne laughed.

“You can let the king go, miss,” the queen said.

Lucienne tilted her head, a thin smile of irony tugging the corner of her mouth.

“Please.” The queen’s tone turned into a soft plea. “Please let my husband go.”

“That’s more like it,” Lucienne said. “I don’t intend to take prisoners.

That’d cost the tax payers money.” She bent and hit a point on the left side of the king’s neck.

“There are more powerful kingdoms than yours, Mr. King,” she chided before releasing him.

“And there’s always someone stronger and faster than you.

Bear that in mind next time you try to beat someone smaller, especially your own people. ”

The king shut his eyes so they wouldn’t betray his hatred. Lucienne stood up, straightened her leather pants, and turned to the farm couple. “If you need medical attention, my men can help.”

The couple shook their heads vehemently and shrank back from her in fear.

The king got up, yelling at the couple in a dialect that Lucienne couldn’t place. She spun around, facing the king. “Do not disturb me again.” Looking down at him icily, she asked, “Have any of you touched the gate?”

“Touch that gate? This forbidden place is cursed! We’ll never touch it,” the prince shouted. “We would never have come if the unruly Ashburn Fury hadn’t led us here.”

“Shut up, Felix!” the king reproached, staring hard at his son. Lucienne read the king’s nasty thoughts. He was angry at the prince for telling her about the curse. The king wanted her to touch the gate and be cursed. A relaxed smile sparked in Lucienne’s eyes—the Eye was safe .

“You kidnapped me and told Ash if he wanted to find me alive, he must go to Hell Gate,” the redhead blurted. “You tricked him, and then you brought the king here to seize Ash, so the king can throw him to the wilderness. You snake!”

“Only the lowest of servant girls with bastard blood would fancy Ashburn the Extra, Violet,” Prince Felix said.

“I’m not that lowly.” Violet smiled viciously. “I share half-blood with you.”

The queen shot the redhead a venomous look while the king coughed and glared at the girl before looking away.

Lucienne had no patience for their quarrel. “Where is this Ashburn boy?” she demanded. “Did he touch the gate?”

“My subject, the crippled Extra, entered this banned place and fled,” said the king.

Lucienne’s heart sank. She had feared the Eye might have been tampered with before her arrival. If no one had touched it, how could there be an outburst of dark matter that reached Sphinxes? And, if it was compromised, why wasn’t it taken?

“How old is this Ashburn?” Lucienne asked.

No one answered until the male farmer finally said in a timid voice, “My son is eighteen moons tomorrow.” And his wife became tearful at hearing that.

The king shot the farm couple a deadly glare. They recoiled. Lucienne knew if she and her men weren’t present, the king would surely whack the farmer, or worse.

Lucienne eyed the wheelchair near the gate. “Does that chair belong to your son?”

The farm couple lowered their heads and dared not emit a sound again, but Lucienne already knew the answer by reading the sorrow on their faces.