Evenfall: Volume II Director's
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
EVeNFALL In the Company of Shadows Evenfall: Volume II Director’s Cut Ais & Santino Evenfall: Volume II Director’s Cut Copyright © 2014 Thank you Ale, Ashley, Daniel, Kira, Gaby, and Lenore for all of your help with everything from proofing to formatting to languages to research. We couldn’t have improved this edition without any of you. ONE Dust was thick in the air which made the hot, arid wind feel even scratchier against Boyd’s skin. The sun blazed down like a ball of fire; a drastic change from the dreary, rainy climate of Lexington, PA. Due to the impact of the war, Laredo, Texas was only partially in- tact with buildings scattered along the riverbed. Several of the bridges spanning the Rio Grande had been destroyed, but with the passing of years and slow degradation of borders, rickety replacements now stood in their place. The transit station adjoined to the airport was little more than a parking lot decorated with potholes. Boyd and Sin stood in the shadows of a nearby building while Boyd flipped through a Spanish phrasebook; he was attempting to teach himself as much Spanish as he could. There were enough similarities to French that it wasn’t completely confusing, but he wished they’d had more warning before taking off to Mexico—he would have attempted to become fluent. They waited for nearly an hour before their transport arrived; it came trundling from the horizon on tires that were threadbare and two shades darker with mud. A cloth banner covering the dirty bus read in a handwritten scrawl, ‘Vive México.’ “Experience Mexico,” Sin translated absently at Boyd’s glance. He watched other passengers drag their suitcases across the pavement, but did not comment on the other people or their surroundings. Although Sin had complained about taking on the Jason cover, he had transitioned into it with relative ease. In the past, he had stood ramrod straight and glowered at attention, but he now stood in a sul- len slouch. If anything, only his clothing was vaguely similar: ragged jeans and a sleeveless shirt that showed off the new barbed wire tat- too encasing his muscular upper arm. More than once, Boyd excused the way he ogled Sin’s arms by telling himself he was examining the tattoo. More than anything, Boyd was fairly certain it was Sin’s new lip ring that would be the death of him. Watching Sin suck the silver loop in from the center of his lower lip and roll it with his tongue was outrageously distracting. Boyd didn’t know how he was going to Evenfall: Volume II 1 make it through eight months alone with Sin. His mind derailed at the mere thought. Boyd also had no idea how he was going to manage eight months of dealing with his own disguise. He’d had surgery to make his eyes blue and, although the procedure was reversible, it threw him off every time he looked in a mirror. In addition to that oddity, the Kadin Reed wardrobe was extremely dissatisfying. Boyd wore things long— shirt sleeves, pants, and hair—but now he couldn’t. A short-sleeved button-down shirt exposed his arms, shorts bared his legs to the ele- ments, and his dyed red hair did not cover the back of his neck. The only consolation was the wide leather wristbands he’d insisted on wearing to cover his wrists but, even so, he hated how unprotected it all made him feel. Kadin’s look was alarmingly attention-grabbing for someone so used to fading into the background. The shirt Unit 16 had outfitted Boyd with for the first day had a graphic of a pinwheel on it with the caption ‘blow me’ beneath. It had already drawn comments from several people on their journey into Mexico. Hopefully, the rest of Kadin’s outfits were closer to Boyd’s own style—all black and nonde- script—but that was unlikely. Boyd pushed away from the wall and hitched his duffel bag over one shoulder. “Let’s go.” He strode across the crackling hot pave- ment to the bus and felt Sin’s presence behind him. By the time they boarded, a few people had already settled in. “The back?” Boyd asked. Sin shrugged. They shouldered their way down the aisle, dragging their bags with them, and stopped at two empty seats. “You can have the window since I got it on the plane.” It was also because Sin smelled of smoke, and Boyd couldn’t decide what he thought of that. It wasn’t until Sin’s natural scent—soap and musk—changed did Boyd realize how much he liked it. Sin dropped into the seat and crowded his bag between his knees. He leaned an arm against the hole where glass should have been. Tarp with loops on the bottom rolled along the ceiling, and hooks were perched beneath the windows in case passengers needed to un- furl and secure it. The bus was at once low quality and extremely functional. 2 Ais & Santino It wasn’t long until the bus rumbled on its way toward Mexican Federal Highway 85, and then they were surrounded by the ebb and flow of murmured conversations around them. The primary lan- guage was Spanish, but Boyd also heard a fair amount of English and a less common sprinkling of Cantonese or Mandarin. However, the two of them remained silent. Boyd already regretted taking the aisle seat. Every time the bus rocked, he had nothing to brace himself against other than the seat ahead of him or Sin, which was a bad idea for more than one reason. There was no question he was attracted to Sin, no question Boyd was excited about being able to live with him, but he also dreaded the idea. The privacy Boyd craved would be missing, and he worried about being literally or metaphorically exposed. Even now, the heat radiating from Sin against his bare skin was both alluring and alarm- ing, and the wet shine of Sin’s silver lip ring sent a warm tingle to Boyd’s gut every time he saw it. Pulling out an old Spanish phrasebook with Mexican trivia seemed like a good distraction, but Boyd couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of him. He noticed every movement Sin made; felt it in the heating and cooling of the air on his skin. “The French intervention in Mexico, also known as the Maximilian Affair, began in 1861 and lasted until—” Boyd stumbled when Sin ran his tongue along the lip ring. “Ah…” Sin sucked on the metal ring, twirling it in and out of his mouth, and regarded Boyd. “Uh… Napoleon…” Boyd tried, reading random words from the pages in front of him. “Second French Empire… And the, ah, Veracruz and… Cuba in Spanish control…” Realizing how stupid he sounded, he finished lamely, “Perhaps I will just read silently now.” “You don’t have to.” “No,” Boyd said tightly. “I really think I do.” Sin shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, shifting in the seat. He was sweating, and his skin was likely sticking to the seats. “It’s hot.” “It’s fine,” Boyd retorted. Perhaps it was the realization that all attempts to distract himself were falling by the wayside, but Boyd couldn’t help adding sarcastically, “Where’s the Mexican in you? You should be able to handle this.” “Cállate la boca, güerito.” Evenfall: Volume II 3 “What does that mean?” Full lips turned up into a smirk, and Sin turned back to the window. “It’s a secret.” “Putain de beau gosse,” Boyd muttered, flipping forward several pages. The bus hit a huge pothole, throwing them against each other be- fore Boyd rebounded towards the aisle. Sin grabbed his arm, and Boyd froze. He was acutely aware of Sin’s calloused fingers on his skin; they were strong but not painful. Boyd subtly leaned away, and Sin released him. “Thank you,” Boyd muttered and clutched the book in his lap. The closer they came to their destination, the more his questions and anxiety amplified. He could not help but run through the what- if’s and worries with minor incidents throwing him off-kilter. The mission was as liable to be uneventful as it was game-changing. If the bus ride caused him to question whether he wanted Sin closer or at a distance, whether he was dreaded or excited about the mission, what was going to happen when they settled in? Could he actually do this? Theories aside, looking just at the lo- gistics made Boyd question whether he could handle living with someone else consistently. And of all people, could he handle that person being Sin? The questions plagued him during the entire ride. By the time they arrived in Monterrey, he was hot, sweaty, anxious, frustrated, and utterly uncertain of what exactly he had gotten himself into. Nearly three hours later, they departed the bus by a nearby taxi stand. One of the other passengers dove inside, and the taxi soon trundling off. Sin peered at the vehicle and draped the strap of his duffel bag over one shoulder. “We should take a taxi to drop off our things.” Boyd jumped down to the sidewalk and shoved his hair away. The strands tickled his forehead maddeningly, and the heat was three times more intense in Mexico. He didn’t see any taxis and didn’t want to wait around watching Sin smoke and roll the lip ring with his tongue.