Twisted Metal Heart (The Deviant Future Book 3)

by Eve Langlais

  He chose instead to study all the tech filling the space. The pristine room hummed with machinery. It also had a stool on wheels.

  It took some hopping and throwing himself to get his hands on it. Then at least he could scoot, ass planted on the seat while his left foot pushed him around. It made him feel better to be able to move.

  He stopped by the door. Glanced at the handle. More than likely locked in.

  Much like when you lay in bed thinking you had to take a piss and couldn’t sleep until you did, once he started wondering about the door, he had to see. He put his hand on the knob and opened it.

  Then sat there on his stool, staring at the wall across from the opening for a moment. He’d not expected to go anywhere. Apparently neither had she. He glanced down at himself, shirtless, bare footed, not a single weapon to his name. But he had a stool. He could explore and see more of this place. Maybe he’d scrounge out a vehicle to use. Surely there was a method of transport hidden in the citadel somewhere. How else did she get supplies?

  But did he really want to leave before she’d kept her promise? She’d said she’d give him a metal arm and leg.

  He closed the door and wheeled back toward the bed. He wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.

  Parking the stool, he had to lie down face first and drag himself on the bed before he could sit. It left him panting and annoyed.

  But it was doable. It would get easier once he became adept, because there was no guarantee he’d get those bionic limbs or if they’d function for him.

  He shuffled to sit with his back against the wall at the top of the bed. How long until someone came to see him again?

  While he waited, he processed what he knew. Riella lived in the citadel, and not alone by her words, even if he’d not seen anyone else yet. Women did not live alone. Not in one of the most barren spots in existence.

  Perhaps she was here with her husband.

  The idea discomfited.

  What did he care if she had a promised one? Good for her if she’d found someone. He’d not settled down mostly because the available women he knew were like sisters and aunts to him, always giving him advice.

  But he was getting to that age where men either promised someone or stayed alone. Did he want a family? He might have before, but now? He looked down at his stump. Now everything had changed.

  He shifted rather than dwell on his situation and looked around again. So much medical equipment and yet none of it could save his arm or leg. Then again, if it were as bad as she claimed, it wouldn’t have mattered. No one, not even Oliander—Haven’s doctor—could have done anything. It was also a begrudging thing to realize Oliander would have amputated to save him, too, even though he couldn’t promise him any legs, metal or otherwise.

  Who was this woman?

  Forgetting for a moment, he went to shove himself off the bed, needing to pace, only to fall off balance. His single leg buckled, sending him hard to the floor.

  He lay there for a moment, humiliated and humbled. Anger wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed to push it down. Let it simmer.

  He couldn’t afford to let either rage or despair take over. He shoved himself to a knee with only one arm to balance. Balancing on his foot, he strained to push himself up, grabbing the bed to help.

  As he managed to stand, the door opened without a knock, and Titan looked over to see a man roll in, literally. The guy, wearing a white coat buttoned past his thighs, balanced on a single metal leg with wheels on the bottom that glided across the floor toward him with only the smallest of hums. He was older than Titan by a good twenty, maybe thirty years. His appearance was still youthful, if gray around the edges. The expression was not welcoming in the slightest.

  He grimaced. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “I think four days of lying around is more than long enough.”

  The man arched a brow. “Lying around? You almost died.”

  “So I keep hearing.” Rather than whine, he leaned against the bed for support. “Guess you want me grovel my thanks as well. Blubber how happy I am you saved my sorry ass.”

  “Not in the slightest. My advice to Riella was to let you die outside. She instead took you in.”

  Titan blinked. “She wanted to save me?” And this fellow had tried to stop her. It brought his glare to the surface.

  “She is too kind by far. Upon realizing the extent of your injuries, I reiterated my professional opinion that you should be eliminated. She ignored me.” A callous statement.

  “I should fucking throw you outside to wrestle with the tigbers and see how well you fare.”

  “I’d have acquitted myself better than you, I wager,” the man coolly replied, his mustache barely moving.

  “You and Riella have a real shitty bedside manner.”

  “And your anger is wasted on me. I really do not care how you feel,” said the supercilious bastard. “Now if you’re done with your complaints, lie down on the bed.”

  “I don’t think so. How about we start with who the fuck are you?”

  “I am Alfred.”

  “Alfred…” He waited. “Of what? Are you a citizen?”

  “Hardly,” was the dry reply.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, desperate for answers that might make sense because the more he learned, the more he wondered if he’d died outside in the tigber ambush and now found himself in some kind of fucked-up afterlife.

  “I’m here because Riella is here.”

  “Is she related to you?”

  “You ask too many questions,” Alfred stated. “Lie down.”

  “Not until I know why you are out here. Are you and Riella citizens or enemies of the Enclave?”

  “Whether we are or not is none of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business.”

  Alfred sneered. “Spoken as if your opinion matters. It doesn’t, in case that wasn’t clear. You shouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for Riella, I’d dump you outside and let the tigber finish you.”

  The reminder of their claws brought a phantom shiver to his left side. “I assure you I want to leave as much as you want me to. But I’m going to need a bit of help. Can’t exactly hop home. Riella said something about fitting me with limbs.”

  “She insisted,” Alfred grumbled.

  “You don’t agree.”

  “Despite her experiences, I think Riella is naïve and that you are dangerous.”

  “I have no interest in her. She is quite safe from me.” Even if she was beautiful, her hair a shade of auburn that surely wasn’t natural, her shape pleasing to the eye.

  “As if you’d admit any nefarious designs. Keep in mind she is more dangerous than she looks.”

  Titan already knew that. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a woman that could lift him with ease.

  “Lie down or I will sedate you.”

  He didn’t doubt this Alfred would. Titan lay down. “How did she lose her arm?”

  “That’s not my story to tell.”

  He wondered if it was the reason for her exile. The Enclave sought perfection, and he was aware of what happened to those that didn’t fit the mold. At best, they were shipped to a dome that didn’t care about flaws. At worse, they were exiled to the Wasteland, where many died if they didn’t learn to survive or band with those who understood how to do it.

  “Why do you want me lying down anyhow?”

  “To check on the fittings of the harness.”

  A reply that made no sense. “Don’t you surgically attach the limbs?”

  “Yes and no.”

  Which wasn’t a real answer. “Will it hurt?”

  “Yes.” No softening of the blunt truth.

  “Are you her assistant or boss?”

  Rather than reply, Alfred tugged at Titan’s shorts and pushed the hem mid-thigh, exposing his stump. “I’m going to start with the leg. That one is easier to attach while it bonds because the metal cup will fit over the stump.” Alfred flipped open a compartment in his lo
wer torso and pulled free a harness. It fit like a belt with straps with snaps.

  “I thought Riella said it wasn’t removable,” he said as Alfred attached it. Titan couldn’t help a bit of disappointment. The arm Riella showed him had appeared seamless.

  “It takes weeks for the meshing to complete. The harness ensures the limb doesn’t go through undue stress while it occurs.”

  “If it works. Riella said it might not because I don’t have the gene.”

  “Even if you did, it might not matter. Some implants never truly work to their full potential because they don’t bond with their host.”

  “Bond?” His nose wrinkled. “There’s that word again. I already know metal and flesh don’t go together.”

  “Usually. But if the implant does choose to attach itself and become a part of you, it will be more firmly adhered than the original limb and you won’t need the harnesses.”

  “Not exactly a selling point,” he grumbled.

  “Are you always so pessimistic?” Alfred snapped. “This is not a cheap toy. Do you know how many people would kill to take your spot?”

  “Probably as many as I’d kill to have my arm and leg back!” he snarked right back.

  “Do you know how many I’d kill to have legs?” Alfred swept a hand below his waist. “None. Because this is better. Your new limbs will be an improvement on the old ones.”

  Doubtful. He couldn’t see how something metal could ever be the same.

  “Are you and Riella doctors?” he asked as Alfred palpated the end of his thigh stump, his fingers covered in rubbery gloves.

  “In the simplest of terms only. There are tools that do most of the work. They just need guidance,” Alfred replied.

  He suddenly got taller, his bottom half rising so that he didn’t have to reach to put the harness around Titan’s upper body. The fabric felt soft against his skin. He noted this set of fabric straps had more to it than the leg one.

  “Who else lives here?”

  “If you are contemplating attacking, then you should revise that plan. We are better defended than you think.”

  A bold claim, given Riella and this Alfred both appeared by his side without a guard.

  “How long have you lived out here?”

  “A long time.” Alfred might not give long answers, but he did keep replying.

  “Are you her father?”

  A piercing gaze met his. “How about instead of asking question, you explain why you were out in this stretch of the Wasteland?”

  “Just checking shit out,” Titan admitted. He’d already embarrassed himself with Riella when he’d explained he’d bought a rumor and thought there might be truth to it. In his defense, every rumor usually had a grain of truth somewhere in it.

  “Traveling on foot is not recommended in these parts,” Alfred observed as he tugged at the harness.

  “I didn’t start out like that. My bike got crushed by a sand viper.”

  “You must have woken it.” Alfred shook his head. “Did no one ever teach you not to travel alone?”

  “Groups only slow you down. I prefer traveling by myself.”

  “You don’t belong to anyone.” An odd way of phrasing it.

  “I’m a free man.” Whatever that meant. It usually involved running away from the Enclave. Although, the past few years, he’d been hooked with a crew. Even had a home of sorts. An old building buried mostly underground. A safe place with people he cared about. People who would get worried about him.

  “No one is entirely free. Obligations always exist, even self-imposed ones,” Alfred noted.

  “Did you get that piece of advice from a book?” Titan didn’t bother to rein in the sarcasm.

  “There is knowledge to be garnered from the words of others.”

  “Assuming that person had something of worth to say.”

  Alfred inclined his head. “True. But who judges the value of another?”

  “Really, Alfred, philosophy again?” Riella huffed, entering the room.

  Titan went to sit up, only to find one of his hands missing. He’d still not adjusted to his new reality.

  He made it to a sitting position to find her by the bed eyeing the harness on his leg. It went over the shorts and around his waist. She leaned over to eye it, which put her face a little too close for his comfort. He glanced anywhere but at the crown of her head. She touched him, and he shivered.

  “Do you mind not doing that?” he snapped.

  “Just checking that the nerve endings are active.” She flicked him, and he scowled. To which she smiled.

  “When do I get the leg?” Titan grumbled.

  Riella rolled her shoulders. “Tomorrow.”

  Whereas Alfred said, “Day after.”

  Titan arched a brow. “So which is it?”

  The query met with a twitch of her auburn hair. “Late tomorrow. The last set of modifications will take a little less time than predicted.”

  “Waste of ore,” Alfred muttered, wheeling away.

  “Ignore him,” she said.

  “Trust me, I’d like to.” The man with his disapproving scowl and metal lower body discomfited.

  “I have some questions,” she said, not looking at him as she tugged on some straps.

  Immediately he went on guard. “I am no one. I know nothing.”

  For some reason, this made her smile. “Are you really going to start with a lie? Let me tell you what I know already. You are Titan, part of the Hilltop Haven bunch. You’re second after the marauder leader, Axel.”

  “We’re not thieves,” he grumbled.

  “You attack Enclave shipments between the domes.”

  He couldn’t help a grin. “We liberate them. It’s not stealing.”

  “You are proficient with a gun, uncannily so, and are without family or a promised one.”

  He blinked. “How do you know all that?” He didn’t bother denying it. She obviously had access to good intel.

  “You told us.”

  The claim froze him. “I did not.” He would never betray his people like that.

  Alfred snorted. “You most certainly did. I led the questioning myself. The drug we used is quite accurate when used in the proper dosage.”

  He didn’t remember being questioned. Not one bit.

  “What you aren’t, though, is a Deviant gene carrier,” she advised.

  “Which matters,” Titan replied.

  Even before she said it, he knew her reply. “Yes.”

  He struggled to put it in words. “You’re trying to tell me my new arm and leg won’t work.”

  She shrugged. “They’ll work, just not as well as a bonded set.”

  “Better than nothing.”

  “There’s still time to melt them down and reuse the metal for someone worthier,” Alfred muttered darkly.

  “Go check on the final molds,” she scolded. “I’ll finish up with Titan.”

  Still grumbling, Alfred wheeled out.

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  “He doesn’t like anyone,” she remarked. She tugged again at the harnesses, making him all too aware that her hand strayed close to a part of him that worked just fine thank you. He didn’t think she noticed as she leaned over him to check the straps on the shoulder piece.

  Being ignored was starting to grate. His arm slipped around her, and he yanked her close. He felt her fingers dig into his chest, strong digits, but she didn’t shove out of his grip.

  “Unhand me.”

  Immediately he let her go, not sure what came over him. “Alfred is worried I’ll take advantage of you.”

  She sighed. “Alfred knows I can handle myself.”

  “So can I usually.”

  “And does handling yourself involve grabbing women you barely know?” she asked pointedly.

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Would it help if I said you were special?”

  She turned away but not before he saw the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

  She pretended interest in a
machine. “Just so you know, we did send a message to your group.”

  “How? Signals don’t carry far in the Wasteland.” If at all. Complicated electronics often failed. Simplest worked best.

  “I have my ways. And before you get your hopes up, they won’t be able to trace it.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That they shouldn’t worry.” She straightened with a cool smile.

  “You lied to my friends?”

  “Reassured them, lest they start poking where they shouldn’t. Not all of my security systems are monitored. It would be unfortunate if they fell victim.”

  “Are the tigber one of your traps?” he said sarcastically.

  “Yes, but only out of coincidence.” She eyed him and quite calmly said, “Natural defenses work best. Encouraging a local predator population keeps people moving quickly through the area if they dare to come at all.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “Because it suits my purpose.”

  He recognized hedging when he heard it. “You’re hiding. From who?”

  “There you go asking questions again. You don’t need to know about me.”

  “What if I want to?” He stared at her, noticing the faintest of freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m not very interesting.”

  “I highly doubt that.” Everything about her intrigued, especially the curve of her lips at the moment.

  She caught him staring. “You want to kiss me.” She sounded surprised by the idea.

  “If I wanted to kiss you, I would.”

  “That seems rude. A man, or woman for that matter, should always ask permission.”

  “Wouldn’t that kill the mood of the moment? Stopping to say, hey, I wanna ravish you with my mouth?”

  “Ravish?” Her lips tilted. “I didn’t think men used that word. And that’s not the correct word.”

  “What should it be then, oh expert one on kisses?”

  “You could say plunder my lips. Steal a kiss.” She kept talking, her voice slightly breathy.

  Was it him or did her pupils dilate and her breathing quicken? She appeared to actually be flirting back.

  What did it mean? He’d surely imagined any desire on her part. She wouldn’t want to kiss him. Not now at any rate.

  Yet for all that his mind argued, he kept staring at her. She stared right back. Their lips got closer. Close enough to almost touch, yet neither made that final move.