Chapter 5
WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING
The small room smelt of dampness and neglect; nobody had lived here in decades. Paint flaked off the walls where ancient wallpaper wasn’t peeling from them instead. Bare, ill-fitting floorboards covered the floor while plaster sagged listlessly from the ceiling. Beth stood beside an old, iron-framed bed; its slightly mouldy mattress creating a stark contrast to the tanned Adonis that lay atop it. The cords binding him looked weak, insufficient to secure the strapping man’s ankles and wrists. The bed wasn’t quite long enough to fit his frame, and it only just contained the breadth of his shoulders. His striking white hair was trimmed halfway down his neck, and he sported a floppy fringe that would meet his eyebrows if allowed to fall straight. His silver eyes were currently closed and peaceful. When they were open, they were intense and hypnotic. There lay a man that she could so easily fall for – was, so easily falling for.
Beth had no intention of permitting such a thing to happen. She didn’t want any sort of relationship. She could never trust anyone enough to commit to them, least of all Devon. Here was someone shrouded in mystery. He couldn’t be with the Hextaine corporation. All consortium employees had implants and numerous biotech nodes inside them; Devon had none – she’d checked, thoroughly. Beth had also searched through the corporation’s database for his face, but that had revealed nothing. Yet he fought like a super-soldier. Even a gunshot wound hadn’t slowed him. After all that, he still looked so adorable while he slept. So peaceful and – gorgeous.
Stop it! Beth thought to herself angrily while taking a deep breath and ploughing her feelings below the surface. I can resist this. I’m strong.
Unfortunately, the village had no concern for her feelings; they needed him. They were a group of misfits and refugees who had discovered this abandoned village and stayed. Their hatred of the system and fear of the establishment were the only things that held them together. Their biggest problem was their desperate lack of individuals who could defend them. They weren’t fighters; the village was full of ex-academics, runaways, and displaced families. They only had one capable fighter amongst their entire population, and that was Gwen. Probably the oddest female she’d ever met. Her friend, Beks, had been a sapper in the army, but her ordeals had made her commit to pacifism for life.
Gwen was currently leaning against the far wall. She was guarding Devon while he slept off the drugs they’d injected into him. Her pixie-cut, black hair appeared tousled through lack of sleep and her habit of running her hands through it when boredom struck. She was currently using her spear as a prop.
“If you’re tired, then go and get Steph; she can cover for you while you get a few hours rest,” Beth said to Gwen.
Gwen glared sulkily at her. “You just want to be alone with him. I want him. I’d be good to him, not knock him out and drag him back to this dump,” she said, then slouched off sulkily to find Steph.
Beth knew that Gwen wasn’t happy with village life, so she ignored her outburst. This place bored her, and the people here bored her even more. Before she ended up at the village, she’d been in one of Hextaine’s many armies but deserted when her regiment received orders to attack a civilian encampment. While the dull existence had helped her readjust to the world’s new order, it was too quiet for a live wire such as Gwen. The world didn’t have a place for a woman who mostly lived in the fantasy books she read and had ambitions of becoming a witch, not these days. After the army, Gwen had become fascinated with the occult. She claimed that she was now a follower of Wicca. Whatever Wicca was, it wasn’t a science, and so Beth wasn’t interested. Gwen and Devon would probably get along splendidly, though. Gwen was not afraid of violence and inflicting suffering on those she disliked.
Beth grimaced to herself. Devon’s victims didn’t suffer much. They tended to get eviscerated and spray gore everywhere. That thought brought recent memories back to mind, and she shuddered. Regardless of how strange Gwen was, if she left, they’d have no-one to protect them. Beth knew that Devon would be the perfect person to assure the safety of the entire village. They wouldn’t need anyone else. That man could single-handedly keep every resident from harm.
Beth felt that she’d already burnt that bridge, though. While Beth did like him, she couldn’t see past what he’d done in that slaver camp. He was a killer with outdated ideas. Both were a turn-off for her, yet she couldn’t look at him without wanting him.
****-****
Consciousness floated back to Devon once again. What happened? He rifled through his memories and found the one he wanted. That gave him a slight sense of achievement; his memories hadn’t been reliable lately. He remembered a sharp pain after being struck from behind. He’d fought hard and killed all the slavers, and then someone had hit him. Who the hell could have hit me? Images of the fights, getting shot, and Beth’s horrified face flooded back to him but still no obvious culprit for the blow that knocked him out. Did I miss one of the slavers? Am I a prisoner now?
He was about to open his eyes to look around when he had a better idea.
Devon searched for his recently discovered bond to Jet; mercifully, it was still there. He tugged at the link.
Izzy’s thoughts revealed a copious amount of anger and a hint of sadness.
Annoyance turned to anger which flared to rage as emotions flooded through him in a torrent.
“Got anything to say for yourself, Elizabeth?” he said aloud without bothering to open his eyes.
“What the…?” Beth said, her voice incredulous. Her relaxed demeanour snapped to attention.
Devon opened his eyes. After taking a moment to blink, he found her leaning against a wall in the far corner. A closed door was just to her right, and, on the left, there was a woman dressed all in black. She wore tight hot pants, a t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, finished off with thigh-high, hold-up stockings, and heavy leather boots. Devon admired her fashion choices. The woman’s hair was jet-black and just short of shoulder-length. Her eyes were an intense, dark green which bored into him as she stared right back. He tried not to let himself become distracted by the other woman. Instead, he focused a hateful glare on Beth.
“Thanks for the assistance back there. Very sweet of you. Devious bitch!” Devon said. He tried to convey all the dark thoughts that he was experiencing in the latter two words.
Devon checked his arms and legs and found that he was, indeed, tied to the bed. He trusted Izzy’s estimate of the ropes’ effectiveness, though. They felt neither tight nor robust. The metal bedframe he was secured to was rickety and old. Escape wouldn’t be tricky; it would just need a little effort.
He noticed a bandage on his left shoulder and remembered the shot that had wounded him. He also recalled the pain it had caused. Devon winced as he rotated the joint a little to see if it still hurt. The bandage was clean, and didn’t show any blood traces, so somebody must have recently tended the wounds. He was divine and would heal rapidly, but not even gods were immune to damage. It just meant that life would return to their dead body as they repaired themselves. Assuming their soul remained in place.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Devon turned his attention to the room in which he was being held captive. It was dilapidated, damp, and mould pocked the decaying walls. His eyes landed on Beth once again; he glared at her and growled. He hadn’t meant to make the noise, but it had just escaped from his lips unbidden. It was a low, feral sound, loud and full of threat.
The black-haired women smiled broadly. “Cool! Awesome growl.”
Beth stood up straight and looked at him in shock. “What the hell are you, Devon?”
“What am I?” he choked. “I’m not even important enough to be a who?”
“You remember what you did back at the slaver camp, right? All those men? I’ve never seen so much blood. You killed seven of them in less than half as many minutes. Not to mention the other two you wiped out before that.”
“And?” Devon couldn’t understand what Beth’s problem was. “You’d rather I let them kill you and rape your friends? Those men deserved to perish for what they’ve done to people like you and the others. You asked for my help, remember? What did you expect me to do; swear at them?”
“You cut someone’s fucking head off, Devon!” Beth’s voice showed hints of hysteria and fear. “How do you even do something like that?” Her voice was rising in pitch now. She paused, took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself.
He glowered at Beth in a fit of fury. “By my reckoning, I saved your worthless arse many times over. A thoroughly pointless task, as I found out. Do you think you have a right to hit me and tie me up? You’re worse than the fucking slavers. Your friend was about to be raped. Should I have just let that happen? You think they’d have let you just walk in there, say ‘oh, excuse me, please,’ and just take their prisoners away?” His anger had reached its zenith, and he knew that he ought to try and regain some sense of calm, but he just couldn’t.
Beth sighed and hung her head. “No. I couldn’t have got them out had you not done what you did. For that, I thank you.”
“You damn well got that right. And save your thanks. You worthless, untrustworthy bitch.” He was shouting now. “You showed your gratitude with some forcibly applied plumbing to the back of my head. I could do without your form of appreciation.”
Beth’s jaw dropped. “How the hell do you know all this stuff? How could you know I was in the room without even opening your eyes? How the hell could you know what I used to strike you? I mean, how could you possibly even have known that it was me that hit you?”
“How I know is none of your business. I am none of your business. Why would I tell you anyway? As of now, you are the enemy.” Devon managed to force himself to take a deep breath and calm down a little.
“I’m not your enemy, Devon. Not now, not ever,” Beth said. Her voice was soft and sad. “Were you a soldier before? An assassin, maybe?”
“I’ll be the judge of who my enemies are. You certainly don’t get a say in the matter,” he said. He tried to keep the petulance out of his voice. “I told you the truth when I let you out of the cage. I have no memory of anything from before I woke up by the road. I couldn’t even remember my name. All you have done so far is make my life worse.”
“I swear you’re talking to someone else when you tune out like that,” Beth stated. “I’ve scanned you for trackers, tracers, implants, nodes, genetic mods, even nano-meds. Nothing.” Devon gave her a hateful glare which made her wince. “You must think you’re a real genius. I bet you’re so proud of yourself,” Devon taunted her, doing his best to convey the maximum malice he could muster. “I wish I’d left you in that damn cage.” “No, you don’t, Devon. I knew you were a good person when you held your hand out to me.” Beth kept her voice gentle. She just ignored his spite and ploughed on. “Then you wiped out an entire slaver’s camp by yourself and painted the walls with their blood and guts.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “What you did scared me, and I panicked.” “Poor baby. How you’ve suffered,” he muttered, lacing every word with as much sarcasm as he could. Devon could tell that just the memory of his work sickened her. He looked at his clothes and noticed that someone had dressed him in a T-shirt and loose, cotton trousers with an elasticated waist. Almost the exact outfit he’d been wearing before he got his armour. “No.” She blushed. It amused Devon that Izzy had named Beth Red. It might have been a good nickname for her, but he didn’t plan on hanging around for long enough to worry about that. “Madison changed your clothes when she treated your injuries,” Beth continued. “She’s our camp physician and leader. She stitched and tended your wound, then gave you antibiotics. Without you, she’d be a slave by now.” She shook her head and sighed. “So would I, if I’m honest.” Her eyes flicked to his left shoulder. “Does your shoulder hurt?” Devon felt his anger evaporate but tried to hold on to it. He still wanted to hate her but try as he might; he couldn’t. “Why do you care?” He saw a flash of annoyance cross Beth’s features which she quickly quashed. “I care. Believe it or not. I truly care. Not just that, we’re all grateful for what you did for us.” She collected her thoughts, then pressed on. “Fighters like you only exist in elite, corporate death-squads. Soldiers capable of doing what you did are genetically modified brutes. Hextaine corporation fills them with implants and stimulates them intravenously, often well beyond safe limits.” Beth knew she was fighting a losing battle trying to win Devon around, but they badly needed him. She also knew that she deserved every harsh word and thought he had for her. Right now, she hated herself for what she had done to the only man in the world willing to help her. “You have to understand, Devon. We’re just a small group of refugees. We don’t have anyone that could stand up to a destructive force like you. I weighed the options and did the safest thing for us. I added the facts up and felt that you had to be working for the enemy. Nothing else made any sense. I got it wrong I’m sorry.” “You could have just left me alone.” He shook his head and sighed hard. “I just wanted to help you, but you made sure I learnt not to do that again,” Devon said. Devon noticed that the black-haired lady had been grinning during the entire exchange with Beth. “What’s so funny?” he asked angrily, focusing on the woman. “Devon, this is Gwen,” Beth said. “She’s supposed to be guarding you, but instead, she’s decided you’re some sort of superhero.” “Damn Beth! If he’d saved my life multiple times, I’d be a lot more grateful than you’re being. So much more grateful.” Gwen said, giving Devon a smouldering look. “You can’t keep me here, Beth. I’ve got places to be,” Devon said. He strained against the cords that bound him, and they all gave way. He undid the poorly tied knots and flung the rope to the floor in distaste. “Can I go with you?” Gwen asked. Her face became animated; emerald eyes sparkling as she locked them upon Devon. Devon looked closely at her for the first time. He admired her heart-shaped face, with its slightly pronounced cheekbones. He felt like her attractive, green eyes looked straight into his heart as they gazed questioningly at him. Her right eyebrow raised slightly as she waited for his response. “‘How grateful are we talking, Gwen?” He raised his eyebrow in response. “I’m open to negotiate all aspects of the deal. For the right offer, I’m up for anything,” Gwen said. She gave him a predatory smile. “You seem like my type. Will your wisp be jealous?” Izzy squeaked, and Devon’s jaw dropped. He put his finger to his lips, hoping that Gwen would get the message and keep the existence of Izzy a secret. Beth shook her head. “You two seem made for each other. The world better watch out,” she said, with a deep note of sadness in her tone. Her brown eyes softened and became damp. She took a deep breath and made her best attempt at a smile. “I’ll go and pack you both some food. I’d hate for you to go hungry, Devon. You’ve not eaten since I met you.” She turned and left the room, leaving the door open as she went. Devon was confused. His emotions were in turmoil. He may be mistaken, but Beth had just been nice to him. It appeared there were now three females in his life, and the one that he understood best was his horse. He refused to count Beth, and nothing his libido said would count as evidence. “Well, you’re an enigma, Gwen,” Devon said with a warm smile. “Thus speaks a fellow enigma,” Gwen replied happily. “I can join you both then?” “We’re three in total. You’ve not met my horse,” Devon didn’t feel like keeping anything from this woman. She was such a contrast to Beth. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ve got to grab my stuff. I have some books I just can’t leave behind, and I’ll need my blades and some food. Oo! I’ll need clothes and –” “Go and get your stuff, Gwen. We’ll wait right here,” Devon chuckled. “And don’t worry about bringing too much. I’ve got space in my bags.” Gwen made him go gooey with the smile she gave him. Then she bolted out of the room. Devon said.