Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1) Page 5
“Breeder?” Quill winced, knowing there was no way out of this without explaining in full. So she stopped walking so she could turn to face her sister.
“Breeders are the jobs most women hold.”
“Are you a breeder?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Breeders are girls who get pregnant to help us grow the population. When the blood baths happened… well, you know what happened. The Desecrated believe that it’s our job to repopulate, it’s the only way we might be able to take back what is rightfully ours.”
Rose’s eyes widened and she shook her head, “no… Breeding won’t save us.”
Quill frowned, “what do you mean? What do you know about the city?”
“Too much.” Two words was all it took to convey a decade of secrets. It was the whisper of a burden too great for one pair of shoulders to bear and yet here was her little sister - shouldering it with a grimace and a blush.
“You need to tell us.” Orion was insistent moving closer to Rose, who only shrunk closer to Quill. She shot Orion a warning glance before looking back down at Rose.
“You don’t have to tell them until you’re ready. No one here will force you to do anything you don’t want.” She brushed a stray bit of hair out of her eyes before nodding her head. “Alright, let’s get you inside. It’s been a long night and you look like you need sleep and food.”
Orion made a noise, no doubt longing to suggest she was the one who needed help. She could only imagine what she looked like right now to everyone. Her body was aching and her chest was sore from where the glass cut it, her leather jacket torn open on the back by the window… She probably looked like a heathen.
She didn’t care though, it was all worth it to know Rose was safe now. She led her to the door leading down into the underground compound, the door slamming shut behind them and tucking them into the darkness beyond.
“How’s your heart doing?” Rose whispered softly, no doubt hoping that only Quill would hear the question. She didn’t need to see Orion to know he had heard, he was trained to pick up on things like whispers when it came to tracking or hunting.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Quill brushed her off, only mildly feeling bad for doing so, but she didn’t want to talk details with Orion listening so carefully.
“So, the man at the podium, was he your patron?”
Rose shook her head, “no, he was an employee of my patron.”
“Who is your patron?”
“Who was my patron you mean?” She could tell her sister was smiling by the tone of her voice. Trading herself for Rose was worth it, she had no doubt.
“Yes.” She smiled back even if Rose couldn’t see her right now.
“He was powerful, but he’s not one of the elite. There’s a council, he’s not on it, but he’s old enough to be though.” Old enough? He looked 23 and as far as Quill knew most councils consisted of arrogant old men who made others do their dirty work. “He chooses not to be, he doesn’t want to be involved with politics.”
“If he doesn’t want to be involved with politics then why he is auctioning off Desecrated members that they kidnapped?”
“Well, I said he doesn’t like to be involved with politics, but I mean their politics. He wants to be involved in our politics because it gives him leverage.”
“But he doesn’t want the power of this council or whatever?” I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Not that it helped that she was been deliberately vague.
“No, he doesn’t. He’s not interested in being a lawmaker, but he likes the power.”
“So… He controls the auction to have power?”
“Does that make sense?”
“Not …”
“It is difficult to understand unless you know the whole scenario.”
“You’ll tell me right? Eventually?”
“Eventually,” Rose promised just as they reached the door leading to the main entrance. As they entered, Quill watched her sister’s expression. She wanted to see how Rose reacted to the home the Desecrated had forged underground for themselves. It was rudimentary at best, a shoddy reconstruction of a reality they were no long apart of, but it was home. So it had to be cozy in some way - didn’t it?
It had been so long since the last time Quill had seen her sister she knew she had changed in drastic ways thanks to the rigorous training she’d undergone under the thumb of her father. Staying behind had felt like the only option open to her even after finding out about her heart condition from the doctor. But Rose had insisted that she leave and run while she had the chance, knowing that the life she would live at home with them would eventually, literally, kill her.
She hadn’t wanted to leave Rose behind. Only because she felt the small fear in the back of her mind that her sister might become the target of her father’s fanaticism once she was gone. She wanted to ask Rose if this was the case, but even she didn’t like talking about her childhood - not even to Rose. She would’ve rather Rose live in ignorance of the things she’d endured growing up, but it was too late now to take back all the things both girls had seen.
Instead, Quill was left wondering how different Rose was from the shy, docile creature she’d left behind. From the sight of the woman on stage, she could see that side of her had never been squashed or if it had Rose had learned when to turn it on and off to please her patron. Quill had never undergone subscriber training because she had always known that wasn’t her path. Her father explicitly reminded her day in and day out that she was to be the son he never had and she was going to make him proud by joining the agency.
Even if that was the last thing Quill wanted.
The funny thing was that once she joined the Desecrated they had asked her what it was she wanted to do for them and she had turned to the violence anyways. She just didn’t know what she wanted, she had never had the opportunity to ask herself.
She figured she never would now either what with her life being handed over to that beast. She didn’t know what to expect from his patronage, but she hoped he didn’t expect her to be a docile little lamb who fell over at his every command. She didn’t intend to make his life that easy for him. He seemed to think he could get anything that he wanted without having to even lift a finger to do it. She planned to show him she wouldn’t, ever, fall for that.
“Izzy?” She turned to look at her sister, blinking at the name. It had been a long time since someone had called her that. She smiled though, looking up at Orion, who was looking at her with a keen interest. He hadn’t known her real name. Then again, it was rare for any of them here to know each other’s real names.
“I go by Quill now,” she said, correcting her gently. “It’s a new life, a new chance, so we take on new names to go with our new identities. You’re welcome to take a new name too if you want.”
Rose scrunched up her nose a she thought about it before shaking her head, “I wouldn’t know where to start. You’ll have to give me some time to come up with something. Quill… Why Quill?”
“I’m good with knives.” She shrugged her shoulder.
“Oh, I was thinking the old-fashion pen.” She laughed and Quill smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. Her father used to have a quill, why didn’t she think of that?
“Well, take your time. I’m not planning on introducing you to anyone tonight. I’m going to hog you to myself and then you can figure out your name in the morning right before you meet everyone.” She turned to look back at Orion and nodded her head, “I’m going to go back to my room with Rose. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alright, Striker is going to want to talk to her tomorrow.”
Quill nodded her head again, “yeah I know. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” Orion nodded and she turned, guiding Rose through the looping hallway that broke off into each individual self-contained apartment.
She had never actually considered her own apartment before. It was scant and depressing . With it
s whitewashed walls and stone floor, she hadn’t even bothered to scavenge a rug to throw down to keep her feet warm. She just wasn’t around enough for that to be a problem. She had never found anything to use for decoration or anything that might add character to the small space. Even the kitchen was basic - a fireplace to cook from (because finding and getting electricity in this place was damn near impossible) and enough crockery for herself because she never expected guests.
It would be perfect for Rose once she was gone.
It was a clean slate from which her sister could paint all the beautiful colours of her life on. This place would be looking like Rose in no time and there wouldn’t even be a trace of “Izzy” left. Whoever Izzy was. She had forgotten about Isabelle when she left behind the city and came here. As soon as she walked in and they asked her name Quill had floated off her lips like a gift from God. That was who she was.
And her name was as much about that person as she knew.
“Home sweet home.” Quill dropped her hand to a lantern on a side table and twisted the pilot light watching it flicker on. It was a dull kind of light that didn’t shed much of its source on its surroundings.
“It’s… nice.”
“Don’t lie.” Quill smiled at her sister before moving over to the shabby couch she had forced Tate and Orion to drag in for her. It was her bed, and her sitting room.
“Where do I sleep?”
“You can have here. I have a few more things I’ll have to do after you go to bed.”
“Oh?”
“I have to report in with Orion about what I found at the auction house, see if we’re going to come up with a rescue plan… Talk about what I saw.”
“Oh right.”
“You won’t get off the hook about talking about it.”
“I know, but I don’t have to talk about it tonight right?”
“Right.” Quill smiled and watched Rose move over to her and sit down. An awkward silence fell over them as the sisters stared at each other, both trying to come up with a topic of conversation they would both be willing to discuss. Their former lives were off limits and their present lives seemed to be just as taboo.
“So, how did you find me then?”
“I didn’t. Not on purpose.”
“Oh.”
“We were looking for the people you were auctioning off tonight. I used a few of my old tricks to find out where they were taking the prisoners and I went alone to the auction house. When you peered out the window to me, that was the first time I even suspected we were so close to each other and there you were - right in front of my face.”
Quill smiled tightly and reached out touching her sister’s face in an uncharacteristic tender gesture. As quickly as it happened she dropped her hand.
“I’m sorry I let them have you.”
“You couldn’t have taken me with you if you tried.”
“I think you’d be surprised how resourceful I could be.”
“I know how resourceful you are, but you had to go alone. If both of us had left, he would’ve noticed us both gone. I distracted him so he didn’t notice you were gone until you were gone.”
“I don’t like how you say distracted.”
“It doesn’t matter now Izzy- Quill.” She sighed, “I’m not sure I like that name for you.”
“It fits who I am now.”
“Exactly who he wanted you to be.” Quill stood up defensively, frowning at her sister.
“I’m not his robot.” Rose’s lips puckered like she was holding a remark back. She wasn’t everything her father had trained her to be. She used her training against him, for the Desecrated. She was working for the enemy to bring him down. There was nothing similar to the woman she was now and the robot she would’ve become.
“Not a robot,” Rose said gently, reaching out to her and touching her arm as if trying to bring her back to reality. The logical voice in the back of her mind told her that her sister was trying to show her something she was too stubborn to see herself, but that was just the trouble… She was too stubborn.
She would never want to see whatever Rose saw and now, looking down at her little sister, she just saw judgment and pity.
“You need to sleep,” she declared with a sharp tone, moving over to a pile of clothes she left in a lump. She shrugged her jacket off and undid the leather corset, letting it drop. Her t-shirt underneath was sweaty from body heat and exertion so she tugged that over her head as well, wiped what she could of the blood from her chest and discarded it. Fishing through the pile she found a grey raggedy sweater. It was the least attractive thing she had. Therefore, it was perfect.
Pulling it over her head it hung off her shoulder in tatters and she covered it with her jacket for now. He wasn’t going to ever separate her from the comfort of her well-worn leather, even with the new rips in it.
She was zipping up the jacket as she turned around to face her sister. Rose was staring at her and worrying on her lip, knowing she had upset her. She wished, for half a second, she didn’t have such an awful temper but then… Hadn’t she also inherited that from her father too?
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge any more similarities between her two identities.
“Don’t go.”
“You need to sleep off whatever they’ve been giving you. I’ll see you later.” She smiled tightly as Rose touched her cheekbones with a frown. If they were giving her anything, and Quill was purely going off a hunch from the state of her little sister’s body with its gauntness and skeletal framing, Rose didn’t admit to it.
“Okay…” She hugged herself and sat back down on the couch obediently. Quill scowled this time, hating the city and all its god damn rules to ensure tranquility.
“Unless you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do here. That’s not how it works here.”
“No, I’ll sleep. You’re right… I want to wake up refreshed, start my new life.” She smiled tightly and Quill nodded in response, moving to the door.
The sisterhood they had once felt was fractured now by a despotic father and years of living totally separated lives guided by different ideologies. She hoped Rose lived a good life from now on. This was the best she could offer for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be enough to make up for the last 5 years, but it was a start.
Quill was going to pay for it for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 5
30 hours wasn’t a lot of time when you thought about it and tried to put everything that was important to you into those 30 hours. In fact, 30 hours went by quickly… Or they would for someone who would spend most of them with loved ones, saying goodbye, giving out hugs and reminiscing about things that they might never talk about again.
Not for Quill though. She left her sister, still angry about the thoughtless things she had said before she left. It wasn’t how she wanted to remember her sister and she was confident in time she wouldn’t. But the words kept playing in her head on a loop and she just couldn’t shut them off.
She went through what she’d seen and overheard at the auction house with both Striker and Orion present. She gave them all the details and facts she could, hoping they could come up with an operation that might just free up the people who were being sold as slaves. When she finished she left on the pretence of having to sleep, but Orion followed.
He was worried about the scratches up and down her back and chest. He wanted her to go and see Doc about those and the limp in her left leg. She told him she was fine. The way she figured she was probably going to her death tonight anyway so she might as well go half-broken to help the job. Besides, Doc needed all the supplies they had for people who would actually be around to help their cause.
When she insisted she was fine and she was just going to go to bed Orion then insisted she come and sleep in his. He knew she had a shoddy couch and her sister was probably already curled on it.
“Listen, I’m all right okay? I don’t need you to take care of me. I never h
ave. I don’t want this.” She pointed between them, “I don’t want a guy waiting on my every breath and worrying about whether I’m going to be alright because it’s not his job. I didn’t ask for this so stop trying to force it on me.”
He looked like she’d slapped him across the face before proceeding to knee him in the balls.
“It was fun.” She tapped his chest feeling like a jerk for such a cop-out type statement, “but that’s all it was supposed to be Orion: fun.”
“Fun.” He repeated back to her in a broken voice.
“I’m sorry; I’m not that girl.” She didn’t wait for his answer as she turned and walked away, tucking her hands into the pocket of her jacket as she made her way through the command center and back outside. He and Striker thought she was going back to the compound, but she was going around the wall. She was going to find this house of his she was supposed to go to in 25 more hours and surprise him. She wanted to see before he had the chance to pretty it up, what she was getting herself into.
She regretted her decision as soon as she got started walking away from the camp. She was exhausted and her body ached in ways that felt unnatural. Stubborn resolve was the only thing that forced her onwards, staying low under the cover of the trees and bushes that lined the outside of the city walls. In the time since the blood baths the wilderness, cut off from the bustle of the city, had grown so wild and overrun that it appeared just as uncivilised as the Pures preached it was.
A bush snagged her jeans and she tripped slightly, sending another throb of pain up through her knee. She should’ve had Doc look at it at the very least.
Rounding another corner, still fighting with the bushes, Quill stepped out into a clearing that had been deliberately pruned. Everything looked like it had been placed there on purpose and nothing was overgrown or wild. Her heart hammered slightly in her chest and she just knew this is where she was supposed to be.
How had he known?
Each step felt laden with lead, but she forced herself on, through the pain and the nerves. She didn’t know why but she needed to see the house. She barely knew this man, this beast, but here she was coming willingly to his house. She could’ve run again, far away from the compound and her sister where there would be no one to “get in his way”.