Evenfall (60 page)

By this time, Sin was just shaking his head and rubbing a hand across his face. He wasn't looking at Boyd anymore, and when he answered, it was with unfeeling finality. "They own you. They don't have to ask for permission. The only thing you had going for you was that you were a glorified babysitter for me. Now you let them know that you can be used for something else."

Boyd stared at Sin for a moment, searching for anything in his body language to say there was something he was holding back-- something to take away from the finality of Sin's words.

But there was nothing.

He felt his breath quickening as the reality of the situation crashed down around him. The idea of what he could be asked-- told-- to do, and the knowledge that he had gotten himself into this predicament all on his own. All because he hadn't understood Sin's warnings, and because the Agency had introduced him to this lifestyle but then seemed to keep so much pertinent information from him; even more than normal, from what he'd been able to gather from Ryan's responses in the past.

He turned away from Sin and pressed his hands against his face. He didn't even want to think about being assigned anything sexual with a target but it was there in his mind anyway. And with that came the inevitable thought about what he would do if that target tried to pull off his shirt and what if it happened like it had with Sin where he'd panicked? What would the Agency do to him if he failed a mission because of that? If they punished him it would only make the fear worse and the cycle would continue and what was he going to do? What was he supposed to do about any of this?

He felt his eyes pricking and he let out a rough breath. "Fuck," he hissed to himself.

"Exactly," Sin said without emotion, and walked out of the room.

Chapter 18

For the past several days, Sin had seen no reason to leave his apartment or attempt to make any contact with people outside. He'd ignored the knock on the door when someone had come around seeking his supply card and he'd ignored the phone when, oddly enough, Ryan had called. He hadn't even bothered to leave in order to go to the gym. Being around people on the compound seemed like an unnecessary risk when he already felt like breaking someone's face just to watch them bleed.

He'd thought the anger and humiliation would dissipate over time, but it didn't. He felt the same hostility toward Boyd and the same scathing hatred about himself. The whole valentine situation didn't help matters. In fact, it only made things worse. It was now painfully obvious that Boyd knew nothing about the Agency, and even then he refused to listen to Sin's advice. In that regard, absence was definitely not making the heart grow fonder and Sin was pretty firm on the idea that Boyd was a completely arrogant fool.

If it were anyone else, Sin would likely think that Boyd deserved everything that would inevitably come to him with his new found status. He'd been too self assured and cocky to heed warnings, and too stubborn to even question his own decisions or wonder why Sin had been so adamant that he not do it. Even so, Sin wished that he wouldn't feel sorry for Boyd at all-- he especially wished that he didn't feel remorse about not saying more in France. It was actually ridiculously obnoxious that he regretted not doing so. It wasn't his problem and it wasn't his fault. He told himself this, damned Boyd as a headstrong idiot, and tried to leave it at that.

But his self-inflicted isolation only made him think about things all more. He thought about how ridiculous and stupid it was that after years of being ostracized by humanity in general, he'd allowed some stupid little civilian boy's rejection to hurt his feelings. Up until now he hadn't even thought such a scenario was possible. But then again, until recently he had never expected that he would go out and try to avenge anyone's pain either.

And what a brilliant plan that had been. His attempt to do right by Boyd had completely backfired. And it just kept backfiring.
The worst part of it all was that Sin had realized that he was as pathetically needy as everyone else. Despite the years of isolation, despite his intensive training, despite hating most people in general-- he'd still wanted Boyd. As a friend at first, and then as something more complicated. A complication which had led to intense burning jealousy as he'd watched Boyd smile and preen for Thierry as he gave Sin the cold shoulder. The jealousy had morphed into a disturbing black fury at the thought of that pathetic little man getting to touch Boyd when Sin couldn't even talk to him anymore.

And then, of course, the remote.

Disgusted with himself, Sin stood and paced around his apartment. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and tried to stop replaying everything that had happened in his mind. He tried to stop thinking about how good Boyd had felt as he'd writhed beneath him, and then how bad it had hurt to have been once again rejected. It was like giving a homeless kid a night in a luxury hotel. It only made a bad situation worse. Once a person know that kind of pleasure, they just wanted it again. And again.

It was a stupid situation to be in, and he hated every moment of it. He wanted to hate Boyd for causing it all but somehow, it wasn't possible. Despite the anger and the bitterness, Sin still wanted to see him.

Irritated beyond belief by the thought, Sin had just decided to start working out for the third time that day when the phone rang. Half relieved and half hesitant, he walked over to the coffee table and grabbed it.

"What?"

"Get to my office within the hour," Connors' deep voice demanded gruffly.

"I'll be there with bells on."

Sin turned off the phone and scowled into space for a moment. A mission would be a great distraction but leaving the apartment was still a problem. He didn't have the patience to deal with anyone at the moment. Shaking his head, Sin tried to put all of it aside and got ready to go. He was out of the apartment within minutes, ignoring the guards as he passed them. He ignored the bite of the wind ripping into his thin shirt, and didn't look at anyone even when he felt their stares on him.

When he got to the Tower, he took the stairs to Connors office on the seventeenth floor. Swiping his keycard in the restricted area, he stepped inside the administrative level which housed both Connors' and Vivienne's offices.

"What are you doing up here?" a feminine voice asked flatly as soon as he entered the wing.

Sin stared down at Ann dully, feeling entirely uninterested in the oncoming altercation. "Your father has summoned me. He can't live without my presence for long, you know."

Ann narrowed her eyes at him, mouth turning down into a frown. Her loathing of him pretty much topped anyone else's in the Agency but then again, she had a good reason. Because of him, her twin sister was being spoon-fed in a nursing home.

"I can't believe they allow you on this floor. Amazing how high your clearance continues to be despite your crimes."

"Yeah, well," he said coldly, eyes flicking up and down her frame before moving away dismissively. He summoned up a smirk despite the bad mood, just to push things, just to make her angrier despite the fact that he didn't have anything against her at all. "Apparently your father didn't think what I did was such a big crime, did he?"

The smack echoed throughout the empty lobby and he didn't even blink, smirk never leaving his face.

"Fuck you," she hissed and stormed in the direction of Vivienne's office.

"Not without dinner first," he called after her, but despite the snideness in his voice, his mouth twitched down into a frown and he dropped his eyes to the floor. There was an almost immediate flash of a memory; milky white skin tattooed by a web of scars. No matter how cavalier he tried to act about it, Lydia would always haunt him.

Sin shook his head and continued towards Connors' office once again. He glanced briefly at Samuel, Connors' assistant, but didn't speak and walked right by him, ignoring the way the man's watchful gaze followed him.

No one knew much about Marshal Jacob Connors and most agents spent most of their careers without ever meeting the man despite the fact that their every action was dictated by his commands. He ran the Agency but very little was known about his history or how he'd gotten involved with it.

Sin knocked on the door and looked up at the camera with a kissy face as he waited for Connors to admit him into the room. There was a buzz, the light next to the doorknob turned green and he entered.
It was probably the largest office in the building and was far more luxurious than Carhart's. Despite that, there were no personal effects to be found in the room, no hints about his life before the bombings and the war, not even a photograph of his wife or daughters. It was Spartan and cold, just like Connor's personality although his appearance wasn't always what people expected it to be. Most agents assumed Connors was like General Carhart; tall, muscular and obviously capable of holding his own in any number of combative situations. However Connors was quite the opposite and looked more like a politician than a soldier.

"I just saw your lovely daughter," Sin commented mildly as he sat in the chair across from Connor's desk. "She's as hostile as ever, Jacob. You must be proud."

"She's as hostile as she needs to be," Connors replied flatly, steel grey eyes glaring at Sin from under bushy silver eyebrows.  "She's as wary as she needs to be. This explains why she is still here and why her twin is an invalid."

Sin folded his arms in front of him. "You're a cruel man, Jacob. Poor Lydia."

"Poor Lydia was an idiot and I do not further wish to discuss her, especially not with the creature that is responsible for her condition."

"She's responsible for her own condition," Sin replied coldly, refusing to admit any of the things that had been running through his mind only moments ago. "She's the one who deemed it necessary to drug me and then get the brilliant idea to sexually accost me."

"Precisely. And that is why I do not further wish to discuss her," Connors said shortly and turned his eyes back to whatever he was writing.

Sin said nothing and gazed at Connors calmly. He crossed one leg over the other and noted that the office was far warmer than his quarters ever were. There was a long stretch of silence as the Marshal finished whatever he'd been working on and then he pushed a palm panel across the table. Sin noticed that Connors watched him the entire time that he turned on the device, as though waiting for a reaction.

Sin turned on the panel, stared at the image, and snorted. "Wow."

"Question?"

"Isn't this the guy who rebuilds poor neighborhoods and donates all of his money to charities?" Sin asked, dark eyebrows arched slightly as he thumbed through the documents on the panel.

"Yes."

Sin nearly laughed. "Wow."

"It should be noted," Connors began coldly, "that he also donates a considerable sum of his money to Janus, which in turn leads to them purchasing arms."

Sin raised his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. "Feeling the need to justify yourself, Jacob?"

"Why would I feel the need to justify myself to something like you?"

Sin shrugged and continued to read the assignment. After another moment he snorted with derision. "So this guy is so squeaky clean that you have to manufacture dirt on him? I don't appreciate having credit for my assassinations given to random, inept hitmen."

"Do you understand the assignment?" Connors asked in a clipped tone, not responding to Sin's comments.

"Yes. Although, you realize that it won't be complete for a few weeks. Not more than a month though," Sin replied as he continued to go through the
information
.

"That's fine. Just get it done and don't fuck up." The warning tone in Connors' voice made it clear what would happen if he did.

"I'll try not to, darling, I really will." Sin stood up and slid the panel into his pocket. "I'll need supplies and money."

Connors nodded, already going back to what he'd been doing. "Fill out a supply card and see Charles. You're given clearance for whatever you need for this assignment."

Sin turned to leave but just as he began to open the door, Connors spoke again. "Are you fucking Vivienne's boy?"

Sin froze completely. "Why would you ask me that?"

"It's a yes or no question, Agent Vega."

"No. I'm not."

Connors snorted softly. "Didn't think so. The moment I actually believed you were sexually functional, I'd have you neutered. Dismissed."

Sin grit his teeth, hand tightening around the doorknob as he fought the urge to turn around and give Connors exactly what he deserved. He stood there for a long moment before forcing himself to leave the office without giving into his sudden craving for violence. He didn't know why Connors asked him that, and at the moment he didn't care. Despite the fact that he hated Connors, he was very thankful for having an excuse to be gone for several weeks.

===

Boyd had spent the last week at his house, trying to stay as far away from the Agency as he could. As if it would change anything. As if his absence would make them reconsider his status.

The churning disgust and frustration he'd felt over the knowledge of the valentines, the knowledge that he'd fucked himself over so thoroughly, had only grown at first. But with enough time to ruminate over the whole thing, he'd had to acknowledge that there was nothing he could do about it now.

With how happy Carhart had been about the 'romantic relationship,' he highly doubted the man would say anything on Boyd's behalf-- and according to Sin that wouldn't have mattered anyway even if he had. The only other option would have been to talk to his mother but that was the last thing he would do. There was no way she would help him out in this situation. He knew she was likely to be angry with him over it in some way, because that always seemed to be the case when he messed up on small levels. And this was definitely not small.

As time passed, he started to wonder if maybe he would be lucky. Maybe they would realize he would be a really poor fit for that and they wouldn't give him the status. Or even if they did, maybe he wouldn't ever have to receive any assignments since he was only meant to be Sin's partner. On the other hand, he darkly pointed out to himself, it wasn't like his time was taken up 24/7 by Sin. So, as Sin said, now they knew he could be used for something else...

It was ridiculous. Absolutely, completely stupid and so frustrating. But as the days passed, the anxiety and worry could only dull slowly until he started to feel resigned.

Ryan called a few times and Boyd ignored them at first. He didn't know what made him finally pick up but when they started talking, he felt a little better that he had. He hadn't realized how depressed he'd been until he had human contact with someone who didn't seem to think he was the stupidest piece of shit to ever walk the Earth.

It emboldened him a bit and made him feel more capable of following through on his promise to train Ryan in combat, who had never been able to be trained before due to his illness. Apparently he'd tried to be a field agent at one point and it had failed spectacularly, but Boyd thought that part of it may have been that the training Ryan had been doing had been built for a healthy person. Ryan was bound to fail something so rigorous when he had special considerations to take for his body. The lung sickness made it so he couldn't work out for long periods at a time.