Broken Wings (Cruel and Beautiful World, Book One 1) (16 page)

"If that's what you want."

"I suppose I'll take that as a yes," she said, eyeing him curiously. "You're acting strange."

Xander was taken aback. "No, I'm -"

"Is this because I asked you to stay last night?" Deryn blushed as she avoided his eyes.

He blinked. "Uhh ..."

"I'm sorry if that was weird or inappropriate in any way. I just ..." She sighed. "I needed someone last night and ... well, you were here. That's all."

Xander's lips tightened. That hurt more than expected. "It's fine, Leon. No need to get your panty's in a twist."

Deryn lifted her eyes.

"I know what a fucking vulnerable girl looks like. How do you think I get so many back here?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm just saying, I know the signs and I wasn't going to leave you alone if you didn't want to be. No need to read so much into it. I'm not acting weird."

"But you kind of are."

"Am not!"

Deryn blinked several times before smiling softly. "Fine, Ruby. You're acting completely normal." She looked at the clock again. "If you get in the shower now you'll still have time to sit and eat. I'll make pancakes." She walked forward and pushed past him, heading for the kitchen. "Shower, Ruby!" she called when she noticed he hadn't moved.

Xander grunted and went into the living room. He took a moment and watched her moving around in the kitchen while humming to herself. Less than two weeks there and she already knew where everything was, like she belonged.

The thought filled him with dread, and he slipped into his room before she was wise to his watchful eye.

When Xander got home that evening, he was not surprised to find Deryn sitting on the couch, twiddling her thumbs. How she wasn't going insane was beyond him. He walked right up to her and tossed a book he held onto her lap. An actual book, not one of those electronic items that merely projected a hologram. He knew she liked to actually hold her reading material. She had certainly voiced it enough.

Deryn lifted it and read the title.
Complex Conundrums
. "What's this?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It's a book of riddles and brainteasers meant to challenge your mind. I thought it might help you sharpen yours a bit. To get you back to where you were."

Deryn tilted her head. "You bought this for me?"

"Obviously," said Xander, taking out his pack of cigarettes and readying one between his lips. "My mind's still solid."

Deryn smiled and looked back down at the book, running her fingers across the spine and cover. It was one more thing that was hers. "Do you think the next time you buy me something, you can pick me up some new underwear? I'm really sick of wearing whatever it is those women you bring home leave behind."

"I refuse to let you wear granny pants, Leon. The underwear stays." Xander winked and headed for the balcony. He used his wristband to activate a soundproof shield around the space outside, knowing very well that she would be joining him.

Deryn frowned as she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and followed him out. Sitting down in her usual corner, she opened the book to the first page. This chapter was titled,
Bogglers for Beginners
.

"Let's hear it," said Xander, lighting his cigarette.

Deryn cleared her throat and read the first one aloud, "I am lighter than a feather, yet no man can hold me for very long. What am I?"

"Breath," they both answered. That was easy enough.

"Feed me and I live, give me something to drink and I'll die. What am I?"

"Fire," they both said again.

"Skip a few chapters, Leon. Your mind's not that fucking damaged."

She flipped through the pages until she came across chapter five,
Medial Mysteries
. That sounded all right. For the most part, Deryn didn't have a problem with the riddles. Occasionally, it would take her a minute and Xander would get frustrated waiting for her to come up with the answer, but he always waited. And then Deryn came across one she didn't like.

"Until I am measured I am not known, yet how you miss me when I have flown." She slammed the book shut.

"What? Don't know the answer?" asked Xander, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"No, I know the answer is time," she said. "I just ... don't like it. It's a bit of a harsh reality."

"That time is missed when it's gone?" He cocked an eyebrow. "How is that harsh?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of how quickly it can be gone. Like, five years." Deryn fidgeted with one of the corners of the book.

"Time hasn't flown yet, Leon. You still have plenty of it." Xander leaned back in his chair and took another drag. "So, listen."

She lifted her head.

"I have to head to my father's tomorrow."

She tried hard not to react to the mention of Atticus. If Xander noticed, he didn't let on.

"To pick something up after my Guardian duties are complete. Unfortunately, one of the new restrictions the president has put into place prohibits me from using my hover-bike after dark, or transporting it between cities and there's no way I could make it back in time for curfew."

"Meaning, I'll be on my own for the night," she said.

"I was actually going to have Bronson stay over."

Deryn furrowed her brow. "To babysit me?"

Xander smirked. "If you hadn't pulled a runner last night -"

"I'm not going to do that again! I'm fine on my own, Ruby. I don't need -"

"I would feel more comfortable leaving if I knew someone was here. Who can protect you, you know? In case of emergencies."

"I'll be fine on my -"

"I already asked him on my way up here," said Xander. "He's ecstatic. Can't wait to spend time with the famous Deryn Leon."

Deryn frowned and hugged the book to her chest. "I loathe you."

"I'm starting to consider that a compliment."

Deryn sat on the couch with her arms crossed while Bronson sat on the other end, all smiles as he watched her. He had so many questions and it was starting to give her a headache.

"So where have you been since you disappeared? How'd you end up here with Ruby? Are you the reason there are all of these restrictions lately? What's your favorite color? Do you like pasta? Do you like cupcakes? Are you the cupcake girl? If so, why didn't you like Ruby's cupcake? What's your dad like?"

She answered none but the last, stating, "The less you know, the better." But that did not stop her from talking about how good and kind her father was, making her miss him even more, if at all possible.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Bronson grabbed his overnight bag from beside the couch and unzipped it. "Quigley will kill me if he ever finds out any of his stuff is missing but, I assume, this is the wanted poster you were talking about?"

He handed her a piece of paper. Deryn's heart skipped a beat when she came face-to-face with Dakota, a photo that must have been taken during some altercation with the Guardians. His father Piz and brother Laramie could even be seen in the background. A tear slid down her cheek. She was quick to wipe it away before it could drip onto the paper and smudge the ink.

"Yes, it is," she said with a smile.

Bronson watched her curiously as she continued to stare down at the photo. "How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Five years and thirteen days," she said. Counting the days had become a regular thing for her.

Bronson raised the eyebrows. "Since the battle at Eagle Center?"

Deryn nodded.

"I'd heard you went missing shortly after, but I hadn't realized you'd never been found. Were you being held prisoner, or something? Did Ruby help you escape?"

"Not exactly," she said, stroking Dakota's face. "I'm not going to tell you anything, Bronson, so you can stop asking." She paused. "Is that your real name?"

"It's my real surname."

"What's your first name?"

Bronson grunted. "Something I detest."

"So does that mean you won't tell me?" asked Deryn, looking up and giving him sad, puppy-dog eyes.

He grunted again. "You won't start calling me it, will you?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

A third grunt, followed by a gulp. "It's Baldric."

Deryn let a chuckle slip out but quickly threw her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry. That's ... well, it's very lovely." She chuckled again.

"There! You see?
That's
why I never tell anyone!"

"No, no! Ignore me. Baldric is a very nice name." Another chuckle. "And I do enjoy the irony since you have such an abundant head of hair."

"Thank you," said Bronson, running a hand through his thick, chestnut locks.

Even though romance was the furthest thing from Deryn's mind, she was also not blind. Bronson was nice to look at. He had that hair, obviously. It looked so soft and she was tempted to reach out and touch it, and it was accompanied by olive skin and striking deep-blue eyes. Not to mention that smile. It could make any heart melt. But she had a sinking feeling that she was not his type.

"So what's his story?" asked Bronson, looking at the photo in Deryn's hands and pointing at Laramie in the background. "He play for my team?"

That confirmed it. Definitely not his type. "Not that I know of," she said honestly. "I've never known Laramie to have a girlfriend but I always saw him as more androgynous than anything."

Bronson cocked an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Deryn smiled. "It just means that he's more interested in exploring than relationships. With a girl
or
boy."

"Not once I'm through with him." He laughed.

Deryn looked coyly at her fidgety hands. Bronson couldn't help but notice.

"Don't tell me you spend all your time with Ruby and you're shy when it comes to sex? How the hell does that work?"

She blushed. "Not well."

"That man really has no shame. Most nights we can hear him and his latest conquest all the way down in our apartment."

Deryn crinkled her nose. "You can?"

"Why the hell do you think we always keep the music so loud? Two floors and all windows closed means nothing when that guy's going at it." Bronson snorted. "Tell me he at least puts one of those noise shield things up between your rooms when he brings someone over?"

Deryn narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "He says that the bastard president checks his wristband activity every morning, so he can't do anything that looks suspicious."

"Oh, what a load of crap!"

Her eyes shot up. "You mean, he doesn't check?"

"No. Of course he does," said Bronson defensively. "But Ruby's his favorite. Any lie he feeds him, he'll eat right up."

"Did Ruby tell you he's his favorite?"

"No. He'd never brag about something like that. But he's in charge."

"In charge," she repeated.

"Of the other Guardians," said Bronson. "Ruby's the one who barks out orders. And, every time President Save-none-of-us has a gathering the whole city is required to attend, Ruby is always standing just behind him. Him and that bitch daughter of his.
Elvira
. I can't tell you how many times Ruby's sent her on what are supposed to be suicide missions, only to have her come back unscathed. I wouldn't be surprised if she's sold her fucking soul to the devil for eternal life or something, considering all of the crap she's survived without a scratch."

Deryn stared at him, unblinking.

"He's really never told you any of this?"

She shook her head.

"You and Ruby don't know each other very well, do you?"

"We don't know each other at all."

"So what have the two of you been doing here for the past two weeks? Staring at each other without a word passing between you or something?"

Deryn pursed her lips in thought. Huh. What
did
they talk about? Their conversations were certainly never about him. Every time she tried to get something out of him, he would turn it back on her.

"Can we change the subject?" she asked, putting the wanted poster down on the coffee table. "So were you just teasing me with your pasta talk earlier, or do you really know how to make it?"

"Spaghetti, Fettuccini Alfredo, Pesto, you name it, I can make it," said Bronson with a smile.

Deryn smiled back. "Pesto sounds perfect."

~

Xander sat on a white, stone bench in the middle of his father's backyard, staring blankly at an unmarked grave in front of him. The cold air stung his wet cheeks, only adding to the horrible ambiance that haunted this place. After the battle at Eagle Center, he couldn't move out of this house fast enough, and had only been back a handful of times since. And only to see her. His mother. Buried without a tombstone out of fear that the president would decimate her remains for disobeying his orders. Telling her son not to fight, but to leave out of fear for his life. He had been a terrible guard back then.