Broken Wings (Cruel and Beautiful World, Book One 1)

by Stoddard Hancock, L.

  "Shoes," called Xander from the kitchen.

  She stopped and looked back to see he had taken his off by the door. She did the same, frowning as she looked down at the rundown boots she had been forced to wear for years next to his shiny black boots.

  Letting out another sigh, she walked over to the curtains and took one last look at the city before shutting it away.

  "You can take off your coat, Leon. I'm fully aware of who you are."

  Deryn tensed at the sound of her name. It had been a long time since anyone had called her any name at all, unless they were calling her something derogatory. It was interesting to hear it again, even from his sharp lips.

  Deryn decided it would be all right to pull off her hood but she didn't want him to see the beaten remains of her body just yet. Or maybe she didn't want to see them herself. It was hard to know.

  Once her hood was off, Deryn turned and walked across the plushy white carpet towards Xander. A mouthwatering aroma was currently lingering in the air, and she really hoped that whatever he was making was meant for her and not just a midnight snack.

  Xander looked up as she approached, sucking in his breath when he saw the bruises on her face. Deryn halted and instinctually reached back for her hood, her arms aching as she did so.

  "Don't," he said, holding up a hand to stop her. "I didn't mean to do that."

  She stopped and lowered her arms to her sides, uncomfortably playing with the pockets on her coat as she moved her eyes to the floor.

  "When was the last time you ate?" asked Xander as he stirred a pot on the stove.

  "I don't know," she said with a weak shrug. "How long has it been since I ..." Since she what? Murdered someone. Slashed his throat open. "Escaped?"

  "Three days," he said as he opened a cabinet and pulled out a bowl.

  "Then it's been four days. Maybe longer. I've had a few little things but not much," she answered, remembering that her last owner had starved her for at least twenty-four hours before stuffing her in the van.

  Xander let out a deep sigh that made her cringe. She hated pity, especially from him.

  "Sit down, Leon."

  Every bit of Deryn still left inside of her wanted to protest. She didn't like being ordered around by him, but the sharp pang in her ankle outweighed her stubbornness and she took a seat at the table.

  Not even a minute later, Xander put a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of water in front of her. He took a seat on the other side of the table and drank from the bottle of whiskey he had confiscated.

  "You should eat slowly," he instructed. "Your stomach needs time to adjust. If this is too heavy for you I have fruit or -"

  "This is fine," she said, taking several sips of water before picking up the spoon he'd given her and digging in. It tasted damn good. Maybe it was the starvation talking but never in her life had she ever tasted something so delicious, so intoxicating, so ... damn good!

  When she was about halfway through, Xander stood up and disappeared through one of the closed doors. He returned several minutes later holding a bundle of clothes and waited for her to finish the last few bites.

  "I'm not going to lie. You reek of something putrid."

  Deryn wished she could be offended but she knew he was right.

  "Shower's through there." He pointed at one of the doors. "You can put these on after."

  Xander put the bundle of clothes on the table. Deryn stared blankly for a moment before shuffling through them. An oversized shirt, some black silk pajama pants and -

  "Ew!" she screamed, dropping the lacy, red underwear she had accidentally touched.

  "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

  Deryn looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

  "Sometimes women leave things behind when they come here."

  She raised them higher.

  "It's not like they're dirty. I've washed them since."

  And higher still.

  "They're all I have so it's either them or nothing."

  Deryn looked down at the red lace and huffed. While she was absolutely disgusted with the idea of wearing some random woman's underwear, she also didn't want to go commando while wearing Xander's pajama's, so she caved. She picked up the underwear and clothes, walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

  After turning on the shower, Deryn carefully undressed.

  She draped the coat over the closed toilet seat and stripped her body of her tattered shirt and pants, discarding them in the trashcan and hoping to never see them again. It was the same clothes she'd been wearing when her father stormed into Eagle Center and attempted to rescue her. So much had happened to her in those clothes and she loathed them for being present during the darkest years of her life. She would have destroyed them right then and there if she had the means to do so.

  Before stepping into the shower, Deryn stared at the mirror for a long moment. She didn't want to look in it but she knew she had to. To finally see the damage that had been done to her.

  She took several deep breaths before walking in front of it and slowly turning to face her reflection. She gasped as she caught sight of herself, all of herself, for the first time in years. There was no meat left on her. She never had much but now she was nothing but a pale, withered mass of skin and bones. Her entire body was covered in bruises that would fade and scars that would not. She looked at her reflection and traced each one of them, trying to remember how they came to be. Her eyes began to tear. She sucked them back and focused on her face.

  While Deryn had never been a great beauty, she knew during her training days by the way the men ogled her that she was at least attractive, but the woman looking back at her now was hardly recognizable. Her mahogany-brown hair, no longer streaked with sun-kissed red, was dead and tangled in a filthy heap on the top of her head, and her face was dirty and bruised. Slight traces of dried blood still marked the spot she had been struck moments before being shuffled inside the van. Her green eyes, which had once been bright and optimistic, were now dull and lifeless, hardly visible under two dark circles that might as well have been more bruises. Even her expression was weary and aged.

  Deryn shut her eyes and turned away from the mirror. She tore at the rubber band in her hair, struggling with it so aggressively that she pulled some strands out by the roots before tossing it next to her clothes in the trashcan.

  She opened the shower door and let the warm water run down her frozen body. Slavery was in her past now. She was free and she couldn't let the memory of it defeat her. But it was hard not to be defeated when there were still so many reminders of that life all over her, etched into her skin forever.

  Taking the bar of soap in her hands, Deryn lathered every inch of herself, determined to get any remnants of those memories that were removable off of her. Every muscle in her body ached as she did this, but she worked through it. She had to wash all of those horrible memories away. She had to be clean again.

  Once Deryn was satisfied enough with her body, she moved on to her horrible mass of hair. She put some shampoo in her hands, rubbed them together, lifted her arms and -

  Stopped.

  She couldn't do it. She couldn't lift her arms high enough to wash the top of her hair.

  "No," she cried, finally feeling defeated as she lowered her hands and let the water wash the shampoo off of them.

  She tried lifting her arms again, without a reason this time, but was met with the same excruciating pain as before. Turning her head, she attempted to look at how bruised they were but it was impossible to see at this angle.

  Deryn continued to cry as her body actually resisted her attempt to forget. She didn't know how long she was in there, but it must have been a great deal of time since Xander started banging on the door.

  "Dammit, Leon, what the hell is taking so long?" he shouted before throwing the door open.

  "Go away!" she yelled from inside the shower.

  "You forget that this is my fucking apartment," he said, walking over to the
steamy shower door and opening it.

  "What are you doing?" she screamed, not even noticing that his eyes were closed as she moved to strike him.

  "Ow!" he shouted, covering his face.

  "How dare you!" Deryn hit him again before grabbing the towel he had in his hands and throwing it over her body.

  "I wasn't looking, Leon!" Xander grabbed her wrist to stop her from attacking.

  "Let go! Let me go!" she screamed, going absolutely ballistic. Her body hurt terribly but she refused to stop struggling.

  "Calm down!" he shouted, releasing her wrist and letting her step backwards.

  Deryn did not stop until she hit the shower wall, and then she used it to sink down to the tiled floor, not even caring that the towel she still held desperately was getting soaked. She cried into her knees as Xander gaped at her, unsure of what had just happened.

  "Why aren't you clean yet?" he asked after several uncomfortable moments.

  "I ..." Deryn sobbed. "I can't do it," she finally said.

  "Can't do what?"

  "I can't raise my arms to wash my hair. I don't know if they're bruised or ... or more. What if I can never raise them again?"

  "Well, you certainly had no problem raising them to attack me." Xander looked down at her battered body and sighed. "Let me see."

  Deryn hesitated before slightly lifting one arm, the other still holding the towel. Xander took a cautious step into the shower and looked.

  "It's bruised pretty badly. Like someone gripped you there."

  "They probably did," she said with a sniffle. "I don't remember."

  Without another word, Xander walked away from the shower and over to the bathtub. He started running the water, then rolled up the sleeves on his sweater, followed by the legs on his pants.

  Deryn stood up and watched him from the shower's doorway. "What are you doing?"

  "Helping you," he said. "Get in the tub."

  She eyed him curiously.

  "Fine. I'll go first." Xander sat on the edge of the tub and dipped his feet. "Eyes are closed, Leon. Now grab the shampoo and conditioner, take off the towel and get in here."

  She didn't move.

  "I promise I won't look. Now get the hell over here."

  With another horrible shot to Deryn's pride, she walked back to the shower and turned off the water. She grabbed the shampoo and conditioner, put them beside the tub, dropped her towel and carefully stepped inside. After sinking down in the water, she settled herself against his legs.

  "Okay," she said.

  Xander opened his eyes and reached for the shampoo. He squirted some into his hands and lathered it into her dirty tangles.

  Deryn tried to keep herself together as he washed her, but everything that had happened that night was just too much to handle. Xander Ruby had saved her. And, what more, he was actually helping her bathe. And decently. Not once did a hand or an eye drift. She made sure by watching him in the mirror.

  As Xander used the detachable nozzle to rinse out Deryn's hair, she brought her knees up to her chest and put her face in them, trying hard to hide her tears. But Xander was no fool.

  "Leon," he said softly, putting a careful hand on her shoulder. "You're safe here. I promise. There's no reason to cry."

  "How long?" The words came out muffled as she spoke into her knees.

  "What?"

  Deryn moved her head so it was facing sideways and repeated, "How long? How long has it been since that day?" Never before had she cared so much about the answer to that question.

  "Five years yesterday," said Xander as he squirted some conditioner into his hands.

  "It's September 3rd?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "My ... my birthday."

  Xander froze. "Oh. I ... That's right. Your father came the day before -"

  "Five years. Gone," she said quietly. "And I hardly even felt them."

  When Xander was finished washing Deryn's hair, he got out of the tub and grabbed a clean towel, using it to cover her naked body while helping her get back to her feet. He left the bathroom while she dried herself off, returning a minute later with a new shirt for her. One that buttoned up so she wouldn't have to maneuver it over her head.

  After she changed, Xander keeping his eyes closed the entire time, he pulled out a spare toothbrush and let her have a moment of peace.

  Deryn took a long and much needed breather in there by herself. She felt rather embarrassed and her stomach was twisted in horrible knots. A combination of nerves and eating too fast. She didn't understand why she was here, or why Xander, a Guardian, was helping her. If President Saevus ever found out about this he would kill him on the spot.

  As soon as she felt somewhat composed, she left the bathroom. Xander was nowhere to be seen, but she followed a shaft of light coming from the door closest to the balcony. Inside, he was pulling back the sheets on a simple but comfortable looking bed.

  "This is my guestroom," he said without looking up. "You can sleep here. I don't know for how long, but the president is setting a curfew starting tomorrow. From now on, anyone who's not in a registered residence between the hours of midnight and four a.m. will be revealed. I don't know how yet, but they will and it's best if you're not outside for that. I'm sure I don't have to explain why."

  "How ... how long do you think he'll be looking for me?" she asked, eager to get out of this city and find her way back to her family and Dakota.

  "It's hard to say. After a couple of nights of this curfew, he might just assume you escaped Utopia somehow. But he also might not."

  "And I can stay here? Throughout this ... curfew?"

  Xander nodded. "And longer. If you need to." He looked up and locked eyes with her. "Get in. You look exhausted."

  As much as Deryn hated the way he kept ordering her around, she simply didn't have it in her to fight with him. So she obediently walked over to the bed and lay down. Even though she didn't need him to, he pulled the covers over her and somewhat tucked her in. He looked as confused by the gesture as she did.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked weakly.

  "I don't know. But when I knew it was you on that curb, I couldn't just leave you there."

  "So you saw me?"

  "No. I recognized your voice when you cried out as that man grabbed you. The last time I saw you, my father made you fall. Your voice sounded the same then."

  "Any normal member of the guard would have turned me in."

  "I know," he said. "But I stopped being a normal member of the guard five years -"

  "And one day ago?" she finished.

  Xander nodded. "That's right. The day I watched that bitch kill my mom for trying to protect me. I do what I must to stay alive, Leon. That's all."

  "Some might call that cowardice," she said before turning her back on him. "You can go now. I'm tired."

  Xander looked down at the soft traces of her figure in the blankets and sighed. He wanted to defend himself, but he simply didn't have it in him to fight with her. So he left, turning off the lights and closing the door, silently wondering what he was going to do with his new houseguest.

  When he arrived in his own bedroom, he leaned against the closed door and whispered, "I'm fucked."

  Chapter Six

  Deryn awoke the next morning to complete and total silence. She hadn't slept very well, considering she still had to do the one eye open thing, and both her head and body ached horribly.

  Glancing around the room, she found no clock and since she had absolutely no concept of time anymore, she didn't know how early or late it was. She supposed it really made no difference. Whether she'd been in bed for eight minutes or eight hours, her sleep was still as restless and unfulfilling as ever.

  Through a small crack in the green curtains, Deryn could at least see that it was light out.

  She struggled to lift her aching body to a seated position and carefully placed both feet on the floor. With the covers torn off of her, she took a good look at the silky pajama's she was
wearing and stroked the material. She didn't like it. It was very cold that morning and silk wasn't exactly forgiving when it came to weather. Something flannel really would have been more appropriate. Of course, she was in no position to complain.

  Deryn stood up, needing a minute before she was capable of straightening her body entirely. All of the thrashing she had done to Xander in the shower had really been a bad idea. She hurt even more now than before.

  She went over to the window and pulled the curtains aside. It was a bit gloomy outside but, overall, seemed like a fairly nice day. The president claimed the weather in the city reflected how it was in the outside world, but she had lived in that world and it was far less gray than the one currently in front of her.

  Hopefully, she would be able to see the outside world soon to prove her theory that Saevus showered the entire city with dread intentionally, but she had a pretty good feeling that at least a few weeks in this apartment was not so farfetched. If she was going to get out of the city, it should have been done within an hour of her escape, and she simply didn't have the strength for that. So, for now, she would have to wait.

  Getting on her knees, Deryn crossed her arms on the windowsill and continued to gaze outside. It was still her birthday, and she supposed being alive after a Guardian discovered her was a gift in itself. It was most certainly all she was going to get.

  With a heavy sigh, she stood back up. Shivering from the cold, she looked around for her coat. Then she remembered she had left it in the bathroom.

  With as quiet a stride as she could manage on her hurt ankle, she went to the door and carefully opened it. She poked her head into the dark living room and searched for a light switch, eventually spotting it near the front door.

  Glancing around, she noticed that Xander's shoes were no longer by the door and his coat was no longer draped over the chair. But hers was. She picked it up and put it on, hugging herself in an attempt to keep warm. The pocket felt heavy and it was then that she remembered the items she carried. Her hand traveled inside of it and came out with a knife, a map of Utopia, and a chocolate bar. For the first time since she got it, Deryn had a chance to look at the knife in the light. It was silver with a spear point, and the handle was wooden with two lines spiraling around it that crossed each other. There was still some dried blood on its tip. She picked at it with her fingernail.