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

by Stoddard Hancock, L.

  "Speak for yourself," said Eamon Graham from across the table. He and Luka's father, Barath, exchanged grins.

  It took everything Xander had to stop himself from lunging forward and beating them to a bloody pulp.

  The president asked, "Soren, how do you feel about all of this?"

  Everyone followed his eyes to the man at the far end of the table, alive and well, but his throat terribly scarred from the cut Deryn had given him and black veins that looked like tattoos climbing up his arms. His servant had fed him medicine to fight the poison only seconds before it would have killed him. And as for the stab wounds ... Unfortunately, they lived in an advanced society and he was saved pretty quickly.

  Xander tried to hide the fire he felt as he stared at Soren. He had only just returned to Guardian duty a few days ago and Xander hated having to see his hideous face every day, even with that bit of satisfaction he felt every time he looked at Deryn's handiwork.

  Soren's fists were clenched on the table, his knuckles turning white as his nails dug deep into the skin of his palm, obviously not over the humiliation of being mutilated by the Outsider he had fallen in sickening lust with. He looked up with weary eyes and shrugged without a word.

  "Speak up, darling!" Elvira called to him. Even when he had been demoted to the other end of the table she still remained in the chair just beside her father. "Your president would like to know your opinion! Should we continue looking for your filthy pet, or are you fine with her slashing your throat open and, with that, obtaining her freedom?"

  It was clear what her opinion was. Anything to overrule Xander.

  "Do you think she's fucking that Trigger boy right now?" she asked with a cackle.

  Soren leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, glaring down the table at his wife. The two of them remained in a staring contest for a long moment before Soren moved his eyes to Xander. He wore a thick, silver band around his neck, having to press a button on it every time he wished to speak since his vocal chords had been maimed. He did that now. "Find her and let me deal with her. I do not want her returning to Trigger. Ever ."

  "You do plan on killing her, darling, don't you?" asked Elvira with a wicked smile.

  "In time," said Soren. "But first she must suffer."

  He removed his hand from the band, which really looked more like a collar and not too different from the ones slaves wore. Xander felt great pleasure with that.

  He then noticed several Guardians exchange grins. He knew what they were thinking. That they would all make Deryn suffer, but he would kill every last one of them before he ever let that happen. It repulsed him how many people in this room had had their way with her without her consent. He wished he could kill them all now. It would certainly be gratifying. But this was neither the time nor the place. Deryn would get her vengeance. Just not today.

  "You heard the man, Xander," said Elvira. "Send out the search party."

  Xander rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Waste of fucking time, but fine. You win, Veli." He scowled at the other man, determined to wipe that satisfied smirk off of his face. "But, when we don't find her, I want something in return."

  The smirk vanished. Mission accomplished.

  "What did you have in mind?" asked President Saevus.

  "This is not the first time Veli has taken away my precious time. I'm sure we all recall that mission to Willow last year. We lost three guards and a Guardian when the Resistance bombarded us, and all because he wasn't smart enough to recognize a false fucking lead."

  Everyone nodded in remembrance. Actually, the lead wasn't false, and Xander was the one who used his resources to get a message to the Resistance about the guards' arrival, but no one here knew that. No one anywhere did.

  "If he's wrong again, I want him out. Not an execution. Just out." Really, he wanted an execution, but he was trying to be realistic.

  Veli's eyes widened. "You little fucking shit. How dare you -"

  "Done," said the president. "I suggest you work closely with Xander on this, Veli. Your future depends on it."

  Veli looked at President Saevus, gulped and nodded. Then he moved his angry eyes back to Xander, keeping them focused on him for the remainder of the meeting.

  "Now, onto our next order of business," said Elvira, looking at the hologram list in front of her. "Has no one heard from Dougal Fender yet?"

  Keeping Veli's gaze, Xander grinned. It was all too fucking easy.

  ~

  "So how does it look?" Deryn asked nervously as Bronson inspected the stew she had made.

  "Looks good," he said, giving it a few stirs. He took out a spoonful and blew before stuffing it in his mouth. "Not bad. Of course, mine is better."

  "I suspect it is," she said with a smile. "So it's really alright? I had this fear the meat would come out raw or something."

  Bronson laughed. "You know it's not raw, Deryn. Stop being so insecure. It tastes great."

  "I can't help it. I've never done anything like this before and I strive for perfection. Anything less and I'm dumping it down the drain."

  "In that case, it's perfect," he said.

  Deryn went over to the pot and took a bite. It wasn't perfect, but it was still pretty good. Maybe she could forgo the drain. "Do you think Xander will like it?"

  Bronson's smile faded. "I'm sure he will," he said coldly, going back to his stirring. "When did you start calling Ruby by his first name?"

  "Maybe three weeks ago," she answered nonchalantly. "Why?"

  "Nothing. It's just ... is there any particular reason you no longer call him by his surname?"

  "Of course there is."

  "I guess I'll be blunt. Why , Deryn?"

  She shrugged and checked on the vegetables she was steaming. "I have some history with his family, and I wanted to separate him from them."

  "Why?"

  "You ask that a lot."

  "I know, I just ..." Bronson sighed heavily into the pot. "I'm concerned for you. I know Ruby's helped you out a lot. He's helped me, too. But people like us ... we can never forget who he is."

  "Are you saying he's bad?" she asked, focusing very intently on her vegetables.

  "No, of course not. We both know he isn't. But he certainly isn't good."

  Deryn stared dazedly for a moment. "I know."

  "And I don't want you to confuse your feelings for him. I don't know the extent of what you've been through, but I know no one's been kind to you in years and you should make sure you don't mistake gratitude with something else."

  Deryn finally looked over at him and frowned. "I really wish you'd stop beating around the bush and just say -"

  "Don't sleep with Ruby."

  Deryn's eyes popped. "What?"

  "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. For the past few weeks, let's say three of them, he's been angry and jealous, and I'm pretty sure he felt you up right in front of me in the basement last week."

  "He was not feeling me up, Bronson. He was helping me."

  "Okay, sure. The hand you were aiming I can understand. But the hip? He was caressing it."

  "He wasn't -"

  "Ruby wants you, Deryn. Plain and simple. And from the looks of it you want him too."

  Deryn blushed and looked away. "I don't. I know it's been a long time but when Dax and I parted we were together. It's not that I expected him to wait for me or anything, but I sort of hope he did. I wouldn't compromise that when I'm so close to getting him back."

  "I hope that's true," said Bronson, putting the lid back on the pot. "Because I know the bastard you live with has a few tricks up his sleeve. Ruby's used to getting what he wants. Who knows what lengths he'll go to -"

  "Xander would never do anything without my consent."

  "But he might push."

  "And I am fully capable of saying no. You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

  "I'm sure you're right," he said, turning towards her. "I have to go, but I know your dinner is going to
be great."

  Bronson grabbed the back of Deryn's neck, kissing the top of her head affectionately before heading for the front door.

  "Just be careful about what you serve for dessert."

  Deryn rolled her eyes.

  Bronson reached the door and opened it. "Oh! I almost forgot!" He turned back to her one last time and tossed her something from his pocket.

  She smiled as she caught what she could now see was a small piece of chocolate.

  "Happy Halloween. Next year, let's go trick-or-treating. Ancestor-style. I always thought it sounded fun."

  Her heart suddenly feeling heavy, Deryn managed to maintain her smile and nodded. "That would be nice."

  But she knew the chances of that happening were very slim. The war would have to be over, President Saevus would have to be defeated, and the world would have to somehow be restored to what it once was centuries ago. Nothing, even defeating the president and freeing the citizens of Utopia from its iron walls, could change all of that in a year. It was just not possible.

  Bronson left then, forcing Deryn to be alone with her thoughts. While she had tried really hard to deny it before, a part of her was starting to wonder if she really did want Xander. Every line was fuzzy when it came to him, and this was one of the fuzziest. She wanted to believe that any feelings she might have were real, but how could she be sure? Xander was all she knew, all she'd been around for almost two months now. Other than Bronson, who hardly counted.

  But these feelings she was having ... How could she trust them? Every day she found herself thinking less about Dakota and more about Xander. He was slowly taking over her mind and she didn't like it.

  The night the two of them had spent in the bathtub together, Deryn had awoken to Xander touching her. He'd stopped, of course, the moment he realized what he was doing, but Deryn was not completely sure she had wanted him to stop. For the first time in years it had felt good to have someone touch her. Much like that feeling she got while kissing him on his bathroom floor.

  It was hers. All of it.

  Him. The moment. The feeling. The choice.

  Especially the choice.

  She had chosen not to stop him. Both times. Until she saw Saevus's crest on his wristband, and was reminded who he was. A Guardian. Favorite of President Saevus. Son of Atticus. A Ruby. He was all of these things and she hated it. But she didn't hate him. Not in the slightest.

  Deryn gulped and sucked in her lips as she tried to fight back tears. She was sick of crying.

  Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from one of the cabinets, Deryn went over to the couch and slumped down. She opened the bottle and drank straight from it, her eyes constantly drifting over to that photo on the bookcase. The one where she had covered Atticus.

  This was his fault. She could look past Xander's involvement with President Saevus and everyone else, but not him. Not his father whose blood he shared.

  But there were differences. Differences she found herself becoming more and more aware of every day. There were his eyes, of course, and skin slightly tanner, a build slightly smaller, a more rounded nose and the faint traces of freckles sprinkled across it, despite never once having touched the sun. And she could never forget about that smile, with crooked lips and something else, something mischievous that let her know he was plotting. Always plotting. Now she smiled.

  Atticus didn't have a smile like that. She was not even sure if he had one at all. If he did, she had certainly never seen it. If she was being honest, Xander really looked more like his mother.

  But they shared blood ...

  "I hate you," she whispered, staring at the blank piece of paper that covered a small spot on the photo. "I hate you," she said again. And then her eyes drifted to Xander, small and happy as he leaned into his mother, that same crooked smile lighting up his entire face. "I wish I hated you."

  It would have made things easier if she did.

  ~

  Xander watched curiously as some slave helped Soren into his coat. He remembered her. She was the one who had turned in the old woman, claiming someone from the slave trade van informed her of what she'd done. Her only request for this piece of information was that she be given to Soren permanently. The president had complied, forcing Soren to take her in, even after he said he didn't want her.

  Still, she doted on him, even as he pushed her away, smacking her hard across the face and storming off. She only took a second to rub the wound before scurrying after him. Xander was mildly surprised. He had never seen Soren physically abuse a slave before. He had always been more interested in doing other things to them, but never hitting. The bruises on this slave's arms and face were a good indication that he had done both.

  "Pathetic, isn't it?"

  Xander looked over to see Luka standing beside him.

  "Brainwashing the unwilling into the willing by doing something simple like not torturing them. And now look at her, being treated the same by him as all the others but, still, she begs to stay. I will never understand slaves."

  "They're not all like that," said Xander. "That one is weak. But he never got any of the others. He never got Leon."

  A pause.

  "You know, you're the only one who ever calls her that. Leon."

  Xander glanced sideways at him, noticing the faint hint of a smile on Luka's lips.

  "Everyone else just calls her toxic trash or Outsider bitch or, on a good day, Godfrey Leon's daughter."

  "You don't call her any of those things. And neither does Finley."

  "I don't call her anything," said Luka. "I guess it's probably because we trained with her, so we see her as mildly more than just something belonging to her father. Do you really not believe we're going to find her, or is it something else?"

  "What else, Luka?" asked Xander, staying composed but feeling slightly nervous about what his oldest friend was getting at.

  "I was wondering if you might have a soft spot for her. That's what my father believes, anyway. I told him I didn't think so, but his theory is not without its valid arguments. You're being soft. We can all see it."

  Xander took a deep breath. "I couldn't care less about Leon," he said. "But you're right. Since I knew her it does feel more personal. I don't care for Soren and I wish she was successful in disposing of him."

  Luka glanced sideways at Xander, his mouth agape.

  "But, from what I've heard, her mind's become completely fucked," continued Xander. "The Leon we knew would never stab someone in cold blood. She hated learning how to fight and only ever wanted to spend time in the engineering lab. She was not lethal. Her brain was her most prized possession and it's been destroyed. She's no more use to the Resistance than she is to us now. Executing her would be easy, but if we don't find her she has to live with the repercussions of what we did to her for the rest of her life. Is that not punishment enough?"

  Luka closed his slacken jaw and knit his brow. "I never heard anything about her mind being fucked."

  "Then you should ask Aila Parrish about Leon's stay with her just before her escape. That might put a few things in perspective for you."

  Xander moved to walk away, but Luka quickly called him back.

  "Th'fuck you going? It's Halloween, remember?"

  "So?"

  " So ," said Luka dramatically, "we always go to the bar together on Halloween. You know, get sloshed, pick up a few women dressed up in those skimpy costumes. It's tradition. Wyatt's already out getting us a personal driver for the night so we don't have to take the tram."

  "I don't feel like going out," said Xander, his mind instantly drifting to Deryn and the dinner she was making.

  "Or sex?"

  Xander shrugged his shoulders.

  " Again ?" said Luka, sounding absolutely appalled. "Seriously, Xander, what the hell is wrong with you?"

  He shrugged again.

  "You have a girlfriend or something?"

  "What?" said Xander, turning to him with a look of disdain. "Of course not! I'm just sick of my fuck
ing routine. Is that so unbelievable?"

  "For anyone else, no. But you?"

  Xander looked over and noticed Veli still sitting at the table with Aila, Eamon, Wenton and Arron. They were all watching him closely, obviously trying to listen in on their conversation. At least they had started out speaking softly.

  Xander kept himself poised on the outside, but he was frowning deeply on the inside. It was unfortunate, but he had been given a part and he had to play it.

  "Fine, Luka. I'll go. But I'm not staying for long. I'm tired and I want to get home."

  And he really, really wanted to get home. He hated that being a Guardian meant Deryn's dinner would have to wait, but he needed to keep her safe and acting like his usual self was beyond necessary. Xander could not give anyone a reason to doubt him. If he did and his status dropped, the benefits he was given for being the president's favorite might be taken away, and his home would no longer be the safe haven he had made for Deryn. And, what more, he really was not ready for her to go yet.

  "Glad you came to your senses," said Luka, putting a hand on Xander's shoulder. "Now, let's get the fuck out of here."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was hell. The whole fucking night was hell.

  All Xander wanted to do was get home, but they made it impossible. Not Luka or Wyatt. They were fine. In fact, Luka disappeared with some girl early in the evening and did not return for over an hour. And Xander was still stuck there when he did. Because of them . Veli, Eamon and Wenton. All there and watching Xander closely, eager to see some screw up or change in his personality that might be used against him, to get the president to question his loyalty.

  But he would not give them the satisfaction.

  Xander found a woman, a fairly attractive woman dressed in a modified version of a guard's uniform that showed off her long legs. She was completely enthralled by his Guardia wristband and the dark-blue trench coat he still wore, and she wanted to know all about being one. It was actually this band with the stupid crest on it that got so many women to come home with him. For anyone who lived in Middle or Inner City, it represented a sense of security. If these women could bed a Guardian and then keep him coming back for more, perhaps they could get him to protect them if need be. Little did they know, their cleverly devised plan was wasted on Xander Ruby. He had no interest in any of these women beyond one night.