Shattered (The Superheroine Collection Book 1)

by Lee Winter

  Lena was so damned tired of her past. Reminders of it loved to sneak up on her, ambush her, and stick its claws deep into her. She closed her eyes tightly. No matter what Nyah thought, Lena was damned sure she didn’t have much of any compassion left in her. Nor did she deserve any from others. Simple fact: some people were beyond help.

  Hours later she woke to the sound of a howling wind just outside the cave. “It’s back,” she muttered softly. “Worse this time.”

  Nyah’s cot creaked behind her. “Yes. I told you the storms around here take days to dissipate. So much ocean to power them.”

  Lena rolled over to look at her. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Five hours.”

  “Did you get a nap too?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “Not much.”

  “Guardian metabolism? Like how you all heal super fast?”

  “No. I just don’t like the dreams that come with night.”

  Nyah’s face was neutral, like she’d just said night skies are black. But her words hit Lena like a slap. She felt all the memories of their day flooding her, and she resented them. She didn’t want to know the things she now knew.

  She glanced around to distract herself. “We need more firewood.”

  “Yes, but not right now. It’s not safe outside.”

  “Can’t you just fly in a different direction like before and get some?”

  “That storm is directly outside now. You’d be hauling me back to Tal in a body bag.”

  “Oh.” Lena examined the fire, which had shrunk to half its size. “Are we rationing wood then?”

  “Mm.”

  Lena shivered. “Okay.”

  Nyah sighed and stood, snatching up a blanket from her cot and walking it over to Lena. “I swear you’re such a fragile species.” She held out the woolen spread.

  “Yeah. Pretty much pathetic on every level.” Lena took the soft grey material with a grin.

  “That was a fast capitulation.” Nyah sounded amused. “Where did your defiant defense of your people evaporate to? I thought you were going to poke my eye out when I first declared you all unworthy of saving.”

  Lena gratefully wrapped the blanket around herself and patted the sleeping bag beside her. “Turns out someone explained our flaws in vivid detail. Thanks for that,” she said, unable to keep the accusing edge out of her voice.

  Nyah lowered herself to the ground next to her. “Would you have rather not been told?”

  Lena wanted to lie. Badly. But there was something about Nyah that made her feel slimy whenever she did. “Probably,” Lena admitted. “It’s depressing knowing what you know. I feel shredded, inside and out. How did you get up each day for work knowing the voices of Earth’s victims and assholes would be shoved in your head without permission?”

  “How did your mother cope?”

  Lena swallowed. “It’s not the same thing.” She huddled tighter under her blanket and picked at it with a finger and thumb. “All she had to deal with was me. She didn’t go out much. You have the weight of a planet’s expectations so you have to face a lot of people. Sooner or later you get an entire population’s thoughts rammed into you.”

  “I’ve had a century to get used to it. And a century to know when to say ‘enough.’ But now you understand? There’s not a pretty word or clever tactic you could ever use on me to change my plans on staying here.”

  Lena rubbed her eyes, as the memories of sitting on that terrible rooftop came back. How could she not understand? “I get it. I do.”

  If she’d expected a gleam in her eye at Lena running up the white flag, she would have been disappointed. Nyah merely nodded.

  “Is there any klava left?”

  Lena pointed to her backpack.

  Nyah extracted her stash of coveted ground beans and prepared a mug. They watched in silence as the water boiled and she poured it.

  “It’s all that’s left,” Nyah said, glancing at her. Her gaze dropped and she studied the steaming brew for a moment, then passed her mug over to Lena. “Here. You look like you need it more than me.”

  Lena hesitated a second before taking it, recognizing the words as those she’d once offered to Nyah. She raised questioning eyes and was met with a steadfast gaze. Lena drew the mug to her lips and sipped.

  It was pleasing and smooth, as always. And while she didn’t get the high that guardians experienced, she appreciated it. “Thank you,” she said, exhaling. “I mean it. Thanks.”

  Nyah didn’t reply, leaving Lena to sip it in silence.

  After a few minutes, Lena studied the drink and looked up. “How come you didn’t know Talon Man was growing this stuff? Didn’t your guardian buddies tell you?”

  Nyah’s expression darkened. “They’re more colleagues than anything else. Photo-op partners at best. It doesn’t exactly shock me they did not share this with me.”

  “Really?”

  “When we are required to gather en masse for events, I turn up. I see them then. Those who were on my ship were in the sales, craft, or manual labor trades. We never had a lot in common.”

  “Oh,” Lena said. “They aren’t friends? Or even scientists?”

  “No.”

  “So you not only lost your world, but anyone to talk about your interests with.”

  “I did.”

  “I must be a poor substitute for your scientist buddies.”

  Nyah snorted softly. “Actually, do you know what I miss most? A colleague would have a theory. Sometimes, just for the challenge, it would be deliberately ridiculous. We all took great delight in trying to prove it, despite it being outlandish. The intellectual thrust-and-parry was so involving and stimulating. It was…”

  “Fun?”

  Nyah’s smile was slow and beautiful. “Satisfying.”

  “So now you’re bored out of your brain, stuck with someone like me. You know, I’m just smart enough to see how that could be frustrating,” Lena said with a self-deprecating grin.

  “Intellectually stunted you may well be,” Nyah teased with a haughty eyebrow lift, “but I never said I was bored. That was my point, Lena. For some reason I don’t find you a poor substitute. If anything, I haven’t felt this challenged in decades.”

  Lena’s mouth fell open. “Bull.”

  “It is no lie. Why are you so interesting? I could have tossed you back in town dozens of times, but I haven’t. Why is that? I don’t understand.”

  “Because you can’t read me,” Lena suggested. “Mystery is always way more interesting.”

  “If that were true I’d find my fellow founders interesting too. I don’t. They’re tedious and baffling. So who are you, Lena Martin, that you should intrigue me? And a tracker no less?”

  Lena rubbed her wrist cuff self-consciously. No one ever found her intriguing. Even Mrs. Finkel found her merely curious, like a puzzle to be solved. “I think you’re just tired of hiding out here for so long without anyone to talk to,” she suggested.

  “Oh, that must be it,” Nyah said sarcastically. “Anyone will do.” She leaned back and her gaze slid languidly across her. “Tell me, what were you like as a girl?”

  Lena shrugged. “Small and young.”

  Nyah waited.

  Lena hesitated, wondering whether Nyah was trying to read her. She quickly ran through her favorite ice cream flavors, butterscotch brittle, lime, raspberry. Sometimes pineapple. But it was really hard to get pineapple. There was that one place in Hawaii that had…

  “Oh, don’t worry—I can’t read your thoughts. Whatever mental gymnastics you do to keep me out are still working. Besides, I’d prefer to hear your thoughts voluntarily.” She studied her intensely. “Were you sporty? No, that would have involved interacting with others in teams. So were you the watcher? Always on the outside looking in?”

  Lena looked down. She hated remembering those days. No, she wasn’t the damn watcher. She was too busy wanting to disappear into the ground. Her memories
of those dark days were of drowning, not even wanting to get out of bed. Hating everything about herself was the only thing she excelled in.

  Lena’s eye fell to the last mug of klava, still held tightly in her hand, and a warmth at Nyah’s generosity surged through her. The other woman knew she would never get to enjoy the drink ever again. Lena could not lie to her. So, for the first time in years, the truth tumbled out.

  “We were poor and it showed,” Lena said, fidgeting at the memory. “My mother was in too much pain to keep a job. I was barely at school. One principal sent a social worker around to check up on us. I still remember the tone of her voice. Asking over and over if I was fed, if Mom neglected me, how often I had to look after her. I was so humiliated, but it was way worse for Mom. She cried for a week. It made me furious at everything. I hated everyone. Although that wasn’t new.”

  Lena fiddled with the blanket ends. “I was always the weird girl at school that everyone made fun of. I didn’t fit in, I was awkward and broody and androgynous looking. By the time I was ten, I discovered climbing trees. Hiding in the branches. Spying on the world from up high. Away from it.” Safe. “Trying not to get stuck at home with Mom and her sadness. One day I got the kid across the street to give me a haircut. A buzz cut. Well, you can guess how that went down. ‘Freak’ was the nicest name I got called after that.”

  Nyah’s eyes narrowed. “And what did you say to those unevolved bullies?”

  “I couldn’t really disagree. I mean, hell, I looked in the mirror and there I was—this gangly, skinny, messed-up outsider, with sunken eyes and pronounced cheekbones and freaky hair and no interest in any of the things they were into. I also wore these crap hand-me-downs. So, you know, I couldn’t argue. I just took it.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sure on Aril being different was some fascinating new scientific thing to be studied. Here, the worst thing you could be at school was different. It’s tribal, and I didn’t fit in anywhere. I pretty much hated life and everything in it.”

  “Sounds bleak.”

  Lena’s lips pressed together. “Not my best years.”

  “So what happened? You obviously survived. Prospered even. World’s top tracker and all.”

  “I survived because one day something incredible happened.” Lena’s heart thudded as she recalled the moment. Like a light going on.

  Nyah looked at her with interest. “Oh?”

  “Those paparazzi photos. Of you with that beautiful woman. You, looking at her the way you did. The way you touched her face, it was obvious what you were to each other. So from that moment I didn’t feel so alone. I mean, if one of your people—a founder even—could be like that, like me, maybe, just maybe I wasn’t such a total freak. I know it sounds ridiculous now. It wasn’t to me, not back then.”

  A shadow crossed Nyah’s face. “Those photos were an invasion of my privacy,” she said in a low voice. “They ruined everything.”

  “I know.” Guilt needled her. “Your interview shredding that reporter? Don’t worry, we got the message. But the photos still changed my life. I went to school the next day not caring what I got called. I didn’t care because now I knew I mattered. Because…because there you were. Standing tall and unafraid, larger than life, not taking crap from anyone. So I thought, screw the bullies, I’ll do the same. And that was when life started getting better.”

  There was a long silence. Nyah’s scrutiny was like the edge of a razor blade. Lena wanted to squirm. Instead, she forced out a small laugh. “Ah, so I guess thanks are in order. For, you know… Saving teenage me. Even if you didn’t know I existed. Thanks anyway.”

  “You really don’t want to thank me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d have let all the teenage Lenas in the world struggle rather than have those photos out there. I’d have gladly abandoned you all if it meant my life stayed as it was.”

  Lena blinked at the bluntness.

  “This shocks you? I know it sounds selfish. It was. I was. But I just wanted my privacy and my chance at happiness. It wasn’t a lot to ask. I was robbed of both in an instant. I will never forget my anger over what I lost that day.”

  “You mean who you lost,” Lena said tentatively. “Your girlfriend. Right?”

  Nyah stared at the fire grimly. “She never wanted to be in the public eye. She was a beautiful, creative, shy artist who valued her solitude. Her greatest love was being apart from everything, just immersed in her own world. I did everything I could to protect what we had. I went to great lengths to keep her hidden as she wished. But I’m me. It was inevitable it wouldn’t stay a secret forever. And when the world’s media landed on her doorstep, she couldn’t cope. She loved me, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth her world being torn apart. I don’t blame her. I blame them.” Nyah retreated into her thoughts. The fire reflected in her brown irises.

  “I’m so sorry. For you both.”

  “Now you see why the news feeds that made your teenage self so thrilled made me want to destroy every camera on the planet.”

  “Fair enough too,” Lena said grimly. “Hell, if I’d known you back then, I’d have probably offered to help. I still could. Trust me, I know some pretty interesting people in crime and punishment. And I have a really creative mind.”

  Nyah looked at her in surprise.

  “What?” Lena asked. “Come on. Two heads are better than one when it comes to a bit of vengeance planning. Did you get as far as figuring out the best method of torture for the asshole photographer?”

  Nyah cleared her throat and mumbled something.

  “What?”

  “I said ‘maybe.’”

  Lena looked at her gleefully and rubbed her hands. “It’s a start. Shame you have no booze here, because we could have an awesome fantasy revenge party. I already have a few thoughts to kick us off on how to make his life miserable. After all, you have mad skills just waiting to be used.”

  Nyah rose abruptly and walked to the far corner of her cave. She returned with a dusty crate. “I was saving it for a good cause.”

  Lena grinned at the half dozen bottles of wine in the crate and promptly emptied out the dregs of her klava into the fire.

  “Good,” she said firmly, thrusting her mug forward. “Let’s get the party started.”

  Hours had passed, the exact number of which were still buried somewhere in Lena’s booze-fogged brain. She was merrier than she could remember being in years, and Nyah definitely looked a lot more relaxed. Not to mention, supple, liquid, and smoking hot.

  Lena tried not to focus on that, and, instead, cleared her throat and reviewed their list. “Okay,” she said, as though reading the minutes of a meeting. She squinted at her notes and wondered why everything seemed to be written in fuzzy duplicate. “To recap our, um, thingy…” She frowned. “I’ve forgotten its name. Crap!”

  “It’s at the top of the page,” Nyah said helpfully, tapping it. “You wanted to call it ‘The Vengeance Manifesto.’”

  “I did? Wow, that’s a great name.”

  Nyah’s eyes gleamed. “I concur. Continue.”

  “Right, so we agree that topping the list of best method for, ah, revengifying the diseased paparazzo turd who ruined your life, is to throw his car up onto his house. Right? Preferably by way of his pool. So drown it, then toss it.”

  “Apparently,” Nyah agreed, taking another sip of wine. She looked vastly amused.

  “I voted you do it with him in the car, so he’d be screaming like a little girl, but you said no.” Lena pouted.

  “Be more fun to watch his reaction as his car’s threatening to roll back down and squash him, don’t you think?” Nyah countered.

  Lena snapped her fingers, or attempted to. “That is an excellent point. So…in conclusion…photographer on ground, drowned car on house.” She ticked the item with gusto. “Okay, time for another shot. Screw the paparazzi!” Lena threw back some more wine, draining her mug then refilled it liberally. “Screw life-ru
ining, shreekopf commons!”

  “I don’t think ‘wine shots’ are an actual thing,” Nyah observed, although she dutifully swallowed each time Lena did. Nyah peered into her mug and gave it a swirl. “You know, I think this was a good vintage once, but my taste buds stopped noticing about two bottles ago.”

  “Booze is like that,” Lena said cheerfully. “Okay, so next item. We gotta mention the highly commend-ded-eds on the short list. My personal favorite is that we spread the word he has an alien disease only obtainable by fucking alien farm animals.”

  “Even though we brought no farm animals, alien or otherwise, with us,” Nyah pointed out.

  “Pfft,” Lena said. “The world doesn’t know that.”

  “Fairly sure it does,” Nyah said, eyes sparkling. She waved at Lena’s list. “But, by all means, continue.”

  “Then you killed my freaking awesome idea of photos of him in fluffy pink handcuffs dangling naked from a flag pole. His nasty ass on display to the world.”

  “It was a logistical issue,” Nyah said. “Wouldn’t he just slide down the pole?”

  “Hmm. True.” Lena’s brow furrowed. “Hadn’t thought of that.” She chugged more wine. “I think your idea of dropping him off at a polar ice cap is kinda cool.”

  “No pun intended.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  Was Nyah laughing? Lena squinted at her. Must be a trick of the light. “But there’s no humiliation factor. Your problem is you’re too freaking nice.” She thumped Nyah earnestly on the back in solidarity. “And that is no good when planning evil payback.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Exactly! The punishment’s gotta fit the crime. And that bastard stole your love life. Oh my god, why did he do that?” Lena asked, suddenly overcome by the enormity of the question and the attendant horrors done to this woman. “Humans are such assholes.”

  “Uh huh. How much have you had to drink now?”

  “Just getting warmed up. Oh, hey, you’re swaying!”

  “I’m not the one swaying.”