The lock on the door clicked and Deryn looked around in panic. As a last resort, she darted behind the couch and ducked the moment the door opened.
"Too slow," said the deep and distinct voice of Xander.
Releasing a sigh of relief, she stood up straight.
Xander noticed her coat and cocked an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"
"I was cold," she said, fidgeting with the items in her hand.
"Did it ever cross your mind that, instead of trying to hide, maybe you should've raised that knife you're holding?"
"No," she said honestly.
"Is that the knife that did the damage?" asked Xander, walking over and putting the rucksack he was carrying on the closest armchair. He took the knife from her reluctant hands and inspected it closely. "I must admit, Leon, I was a bit shocked when I heard about what you did to Soren. I really didn't think you had it in you." He smirked somewhat proudly before slipping the knife back in her pocket. "You should make sure to keep that close." Xander picked up his rucksack. "Follow me."
Deryn's nostrils flared as he ordered her around again. It was getting annoying. But she wasn't sure if she really had the right to protest, so she followed him to the kitchen.
Xander put the rucksack down on the counter and pulled out two bottles of a green liquid. "This medicine will help with any internal injuries you might have," he explained as he went into one of the drawers and pulled out a spoon. "You take exactly one spoonful every twelve hours. No more, no less. Got it?"
Deryn nodded and watched closely as he poured the liquid into the spoon for her. He handed it off and she drank it down quickly. Minty.
Xander reached into his rucksack again and, this time, came out with a small clock.
"This is for your room. I know I don't have one in there and there will be certain days when I'm going to require that you don't wander around out here. Take a good look at the time now so you remember when to take your medicine."
She did just that. "Is the time right?" she asked, noticing it was only six-thirty.
"Yes."
"You've already been up and about at this hour?"
"I don't sleep much," he said before reaching into his rucksack once more and pulling out a small container holding a blue paste. "Rub this on your bruises. It will help them heal faster."
Deryn took the container and frowned. "Ruby, I know as a slave I'm probably not the most informed person in Utopia, but aren't items like this and the medicine forbidden unless prescribed by a doctor?"
"They are."
"Then how did you get them? Are Guardians above the rules or something?"
"They are when they know where the Black Market is."
Deryn's eyes bulged. "The Black Market?" she repeated. "I thought that was just a myth."
"No, it very much exists. It's always existed but, after the war, supporters of the Resistance took it over. Some Guardians have been searching for it for years, trying to shut it down, but others of us, the majority, simply use it to our advantage."
"Where is it?"
Xander chortled. "You must be an idiot if you really believe I'd tell you something like that."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Because, Leon, I know how you are. In danger or not, if you knew where the Black Market was, you would undoubtedly try to go there. It's too dangerous. Especially for a wanted person."
"What's safe for you is safe for me."
"In this city, the band on my wrist says otherwise."
"If you're such a great Guardian then why the hell do you live in this building, so far from the rest of civilization?"
"The president wanted one of us inhabiting every corner of the three cities." Xander stuck his hand back into the rucksack and felt around for something. "Besides, I like this building. Other than the noisy bastards downstairs, it's completely empty." He came out holding a small, blue box and put it in front of her.
Deryn eyed the box curiously. "What's that?"
"This may be a bit of a shock but, if you open it, you just might find out."
She rolled her eyes. After all these years, he was still such an aggravating smartass. She reached out and opened the box, her eyes widening as they settled on what was inside. It was a cupcake. A delicious looking, chocolate frosted cupcake with rainbow sprinkles.
"I wasn't sure about Outsider traditions, but around here it's customary to have cake on your birthday."
Without waiting for a reaction, Xander picked up his rucksack and carried it into his bedroom. When he came out a few minutes later, Deryn was still standing there, staring blankly at the cupcake he had given her.
He smirked and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "Here," he said, handing her a black sweater. "So you don't have to wear that heavy coat all day."
She took it absentmindedly.
"And these are for your feet," he said, putting a pair of slippers on the floor.
Deryn watched closely as he specifically placed them so they would be easy for her to step into. She stared at them for a moment, and then at the sweater, and then back at that damn cupcake. After darting her eyes several times between the three objects, she finally stopped on Xander, giving him her first good look since the tram.
He was the same. Dusty-blond hair, golden-brown eyes, creamy white skin that had never touched sunlight, defined cheekbones and a strong jawline. Slightly older, slightly darkened by the effects of war, but the same. If he was the same on the outside then how the hell could anything else about him be different? No. This was just too weird and she felt like she was going to burst. Her mind couldn't take it anymore.
"No, no, no!" she shouted, throwing the sweater back at him. "Stop it! Stop doing that!"
"Doing what?" asked Xander, furrowing his brow.
"Being like this!" She motioned at him dramatically with her hands. "Like ... like you're nice or something! It's creeping me out!"
"Me being nice is creeping you out?"
"Yes! Because you're not nice, Ruby! You're mean and spiteful! And you're a Guardian! Your father is a big part of the reason why I've been held prisoner and tortured for five years! Five fucking years!"
"Yes, I realize that," he said calmly.
"If you wanted to help me then you should have done it then! You should have lifted a hand and stopped them!"
"I was young. And my mom had just been killed in front of me. I didn't know -"
"I don't care!" she screamed, crying freely. "Do you know what they did to me? What Soren did to me every day I was imprisoned in his home?"
"Yes," answered Xander without even a flinch. "I'm aware of what happens to slaves, and Soren was hardly quiet about his delusional conquest over you."
This only made Deryn cry harder. "He never had me! Despite what he thought, he never, ever had me!"
"I know. That's why I said delusional."
"I can't stay here," she said. "I haven't even been here twelve hours yet and I can already feel the walls closing in on me. I can't be trapped again. Not by you. Not by another Guardian."
Until that moment, Xander had been holding it together, but hearing her say those words set something off inside of him. A fire he had not felt in years. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" he asked, his cold eyes narrowing. "Trapping you? Like they trapped you?"
Deryn said nothing but continued to look firmly at him.
"Believe me, Leon, I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here!"
"Yet here we are," she said, using her hands to wipe her damp cheeks.
"Yes, and that's the way it has to stay. You and me. Here. You understand?"
Deryn studied him carefully as he finally let that coolness he had been trying to maintain go. "Why am I here, Ruby?"
"Not to be my fucking slave! I'm actually quite certain that I'm the one who's been doing things for you !"
Deryn opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to it.
"I fucking bathed you! An Outsider! In my bathtub!
Where's the gratitude? I mean, honestly. Next time just say thank you!"
Deryn straightened herself up and mirrored him by crossing her arms in front of her chest. She looked him square in the eye, her mouth lowering in a deep scowl, and repeated the words he had said to her in the hallway five years earlier. "Never gonna happen, sweetheart."
With a final mocking wink, Deryn pushed past him and marched with a slight limp towards the guestroom.
"And there is nothing wrong with being an Outsider!" she shouted before slamming the door behind her.
"Fuck you!" Xander tossed the sweater at her door with a frustrated growl, then kicked the slippers across the room.
After feeling to make sure his keys were in his pocket, he shouted, "I'm going out!" at the closed door. He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the front door twice as hard as she had.
Chapter Seven
Several hours later, Deryn awoke to her stomach growling. She wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep, but it couldn't have been long ago since her head still throbbed terribly.
She rubbed her swollen eyes and sat up in bed. From the crack in the curtains she could tell that the sun was already setting. Xander had not come back yet.
With a deep sigh, she stood up and walked into the living room. Her feet tangled in something and she looked down to see the black sweater. She picked it up and ran the fabric through her fingers. It really was nice. Much better feeling than the silk pajamas. With a quick removal of her coat, Deryn lifted the sweater and put it on over her head. Her arms were already starting to feel better from that medicine, but she still needed to rub that paste on them.
Once the sweater was on, she hung up the coat in the guestroom closet, but not before emptying its pockets. She put everything in a row on the dresser. The knife. The map. The chocolate bar. This was all she owned. All she had to her name. Two gifts and a free map.
Heading to the kitchen, Deryn stopped near the bookshelf and noticed a frame on it with a photo of Xander and his parents. He couldn't have been older than ten, judging by how small he was. It was funny to think that when this photo was taken she'd been living freely in a village called Redwood with her father and brother. It would still be another five years before the guards came to their small village in their gasmasks, taking her, Dakota and several others in the dead of night, moving too quickly to even give their parents a chance to fight. Still, her father tried. Her brother Talon, who'd been taken two years earlier, was the one ordered to lead the invasion, and even through his mask she could still see the pain in his eyes.
For six months they were kept in quarantine, left with nothing to entertain themselves but each other. At the time she'd thought there could be nothing worse than living in that small space with a dozen others, all as bored and frightened as she was.
How wrong she had been.
Deryn was just about to put the photo facedown when she took a good look at Xander's mother standing there with her husband and son, looking so genuinely happy. She died because she wanted to protect Xander from the dangers of an ensuing war. Deryn couldn't be angry with her.
But she still loathed Atticus, and there was no way she could have his cold eyes staring at her every day. After finding some blank paper in the desk, she tore off a small piece and put it over Atticus's figure. Now only Xander and his mother were visible.
Once that was done, Deryn finally made it to the kitchen, stopping only briefly to put the slippers on her frozen feet. She looked through the cabinets, trying to find something decent to eat. Xander didn't have a lot, but he at least had everything she needed to make a sandwich.
As soon as her sandwich was finished, Deryn stared longingly at the open blue box on the counter. That cupcake looked delicious and she really wanted it. But she had already put on the sweater and slippers. How much more of her integrity could she compromise?
After an innocent lick of frosting, Deryn huffed and closed the box. She went over to the couch and sat down.
"Oh!" she exclaimed pleasantly as she sank into it.
Xander had always seemed like one of those people who owned furniture for style, not comfort, but this was actually quite nice. Plushy but slightly firm.
She sat there for a while, eating her sandwich and staring at the door. When it didn't open she grew frustrated and started pacing around the apartment. Eventually, she grabbed a blanket she found in a closet and wrapped it around her shoulders, slid open the glass door and crawled onto the balcony.
She stayed hunched down where no one could see her, sitting against the wall of the building while snuggled in the blanket. She could hear the two men who lived downstairs chatting animatedly and quickly learned their names were Bronson and Quigley. They were actually quite funny and seemed like two people whose company she would enjoy. But then they were joined by a third.
"Oi! Ruby! What's with this notice we got about a fucking curfew? What am I, a child?" asked Bronson in his deep and pleasant voice.
"I don't make the rules," said Xander sounding slightly on edge. "Give me the bottle."
Several moments passed with nothing but a slight gulping sound.
"Whoa! Easy on the whiskey!"
"I hate your cheap shit, but I fucking needed that," said Xander, slamming the bottle down. "You got a cigarette, Bronson? I left the ones you gave me upstairs."
"Sure thing, mate."
There were a few more quiet moments as, she assumed, they lit up cigarettes.
"So you gonna tell us what's bothering you?" asked Quigley in his softer voice, compared to the other two, at least.
"No."
Deryn chuckled. That sounded about right.
"Then how the hell are we supposed to help you?" Quigley again.
"You're not."
"Come on, Ruby. We always tell you our problems. We're friends, remember?"
"Never having enough whiskey and begging me to buy you more is hardly a problem."
"But you have unlimited resources," said Bronson. She envisioned a smirk.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Suit yourself then."
There was a long silence.
"Am I always an ass?" asked Xander.
"Yes," Deryn whispered to herself.
"Yeah," said Bronson.
"Pretty much," said Quigley.
"So when I try to do something nice, that comes off as creepy?"
Deryn smiled. For some reason she found the fact that she made Xander question himself gratifying.
"How nice was it?" asked Bronson.
"Pretty fucking nice."
A pause.
"Are you gonna tell us?"
"No," said Xander coolly.
"Why not?" asked Quigley.
"Because it's none of your fucking business."
"Aw, come on!" Bronson again.
"No."
"Please!" Quigley.
"No!"
"Pretty, pretty, please -"
"Dammit, Quigley! I'm trying to be serious here!"
"So are we -"
"All I want to know is why when I help someone they always, always think I have fucking ulterior motives! I can be nice!"
"Sure you can," said Bronson. Deryn envisioned his smirk again.
"So when I buy someone a cupcake, why the hell would they interpret that as something different? Something bad."
Another pause.
"You bought someone a cupcake?" asked Bronson. Now she envisioned his face all twisted with curiosity, much like hers had been. Even hearing Xander just say the word 'cupcake' was creepy to her.
"Aw, who was it? Was it a girl?" inquired Quigley. "Was it that girl from last night?"
"No."
"It was, wasn't it?" said Bronson. "I didn't get a good look at her but, from what I saw, she looked pretty cute."
"She's not."
Deryn chuckled again. Now that was the Xander she knew.
"So it wasn't her then?" asked Quigley. She didn't get as good a look at him yesterday as she did
at Bronson, but she was pretty sure she was picturing him correctly as her mind made him cock his head in curiosity.
"It doesn't matter."
"Then why'd you buy her a cupcake?"
"I never said I did."
"Then why'd you buy anyone a cupcake."
Xander let out a deep sigh. "Birthday," he said so quietly that she barely heard him.
"A birthday!" said Bronson brightly. An image of him beaming entered her head. "That's not creepy! That's adorable!"
"You both are fucking annoying, you know that?"
Another pause.
"I would be honored if you bought me a cupcake," said Quigley with a teasing sincerity.
"And on that note, I'm getting the fuck out of here," said Xander. "Thanks for nothing, assholes."
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" asked Bronson.
"My mother is dead."
This pause was a bit heavier.
"Sorry," said Bronson, his deep voice cracking. "I forgot."
"Doesn't matter. If you go out, remember to watch the clocks."
"When do we ever go out?"
"Good point."
Deryn listened as their sliding door opened and then closed again. Crap. Now she felt bad.
In a rush, she crawled back inside, shut the door and got to her feet. She limped to the kitchen as quickly as she could, opened the blue box and took one good look at the cupcake before stuffing it in her mouth.
The lock clicked on the door so she chewed faster. When Xander walked inside she had just taken the last oversized bite but there was no time to swallow.
He relocked the door, turned and looked a bit surprised to see her standing there with chipmunk cheeks. "What are you doing?"
Deryn shrugged, thankful that he didn't pay her large cheeks any mind.
"You're fucking weird, you know that?"
Xander walked past her to his room, his eyes slightly shifting to look at the blue box on the counter. She could swear she saw a faint smile when he noticed it was empty.
Broken Wings (Cruel and Beautiful World, Book One 1) Page 6
