Evenfall (22 page)

"Screw you," was the sullen reply.

Bree smirked and turned to Wanda. "And you-- next time you want to slug this bi-atch, just don't damage the face."

Wanda's face lit up with a laugh but before she could release it, the doors opened again and another person came in. He was tall, in his early sixties, and very slender. His nose was long and pointed and he had eyes that were a very pale blue.

"General McAvoy," Bree said coolly. "Handle your riff-raff. And I'll handle mine."

At that, the group dispersed into two separate ones and cleared the way to the exit finally.

Boyd watched them disappear and then followed the crowd that started heading out the door. He heard a few muttered opinions supporting either side of the fight and from that he understood that this sort of thing wasn't unheard of for Wanda or Bree. He wondered how they were able to get away with causing stirs like that without repercussions but even that thought was absent and easily forgotten. He didn't really care what anyone else was doing and he was just glad to see them all get out of the way so he could leave.

He spent the next few hours on errands around town picking up supplements for his diet. The Agency provided a certain amount of items but some of it he was responsible for finding on his own. Although there were a few places he knew for certain would have all of what he needed, they were establishments he didn't want to visit. Too many memories hung cloyingly in areas of the city, nestled among buildings and alleys that brought bright blue eyes unbidden to his mind.

When he got home he fell into his usual routine of automatically making tea. When he had a mug ready, he walked to the living room and sat on the edge of the couch. The tea heated the mug until he could feel a light burn through his clothing as he rested the mug on his knee. He stared at nothing in particular, letting the quiet of the room reinforce the quiet of his mind. It was like his own brand of meditation to find his inner peace, except in his case it was finding the place inside him that let him shut down and ignore everything.

He sat like a statue in his home, occasionally sipping tea and doing nothing in particular. There were times he wondered whether anyone else felt as alone and isolated as he did. During moments like this, however, no thoughts entered his mind at all.

===

Boyd's detachment could be most clearly felt in his home after years of working toward that goal. A routine had begun of working hard at the Agency where he was largely ignored and sometimes mocked and returning to his home to sit silently, at times restlessly, and wish for an end in sight. He could have been caught in that cycle for weeks if not for the missions.
Then came the day that he was brought in for a briefing in which he was told that he and Sin would be going to Spain for a reconnaissance mission. Having to spend a week in close quarters with Sin was a little daunting, primarily because Boyd had come to covet his time alone again. He'd had to give it up during training and now he had it again, giving him a chance to find his balance again and try to let everything fall away. Being stuck around other people for too long, especially crowds or in unfamiliar situations, was still a little tiring to him. The only saving grace was that Sin, at least, didn't seem to mind periods of silence.

And a smaller part of him that he didn't fully want to acknowledge was somewhat intrigued by this mission. He still couldn't figure Sin out. Sin was like puzzle pieces floating on a river; once a few were placed together, the current pulled the outer edges apart and scattered the pieces away once again. It left Boyd feeling like he could never get the full picture, let alone decipher between truth and lies.

The part of him that was curious and wanted the full truth of a situation before he made a decision couldn't let go of the fact that there was too much about Sin to dismiss him. That part made it impossible to ignore Sin or his own desire to know more. Even if it were to ultimately turn out that Sin was nothing more than how the people at the Agency generally presented him, at least for Boyd he would have been able to reach that conclusion on his own with all the facts.

Neither of them had spoken much on the plane ride over or as they'd navigated the streets of Barcelona. Boyd didn't know Spanish but parts of it were similar enough to French that he would have been able to get by. He was interested to see Catalan on the signs, with its strange confluence of Spanish and French. He had learned soon enough that Sin was fluent in Spanish, although his accent seemed to differ from the native Spaniards.

The hotel they were staying in turned out to be in the middle of a long row of buildings all built right up against each other. The lower level had a restaurant but once they took the elevator up and checked in they ended up in a hallway that was lined with a smooth wooden finish that ran the length of the hallway. The planks were wide and horizontal and probably faux, and the effect crossed the doors as well. If it weren't for the silver horizontal handles and the inconspicuous silver room numbers posted nearby, the doors would have blended in with the hallway.

Once inside they found the room to be medium sized, with two twin beds and a table pushed in the far right corner near a television. The bathroom was immediately to their left while a small closet with space for luggage was to their right. Like the rest of the hotel, there was a distinctive modern flair to the decor.

When the door shut behind them, they each moved into the room and dropped their bags. Boyd ended up by the far bed and took in the room thoughtfully. There was enough space on the table for the multiple computers he would have to set up but it wouldn't leave much room for anything else. Still, it was their only option. He dragged the computer bag over to the table and unzipped it, getting to work unpacking and setting up the equipment.

Their mission wasn't to act; it was simply to surveil a location to ensure that
Intel
from a source was legit. That called for several days in a hotel in Barcelona while they kept an eye on the considerably more luxurious hotels that were not too far away.

They were trying to verify that members of the French group Rιvolution were actually in the area and they were supposed to identify who specifically was present.

Sin didn't show much interest in the surveillance equipment or his bag. He walked over to the window and looked out, his eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation of something.

Boyd glanced at him but then turned his attention fully to the equipment. When he was finished he shifted a chair so one of them could sit there observing all the screens at once and still keep an eye on the room and the door in case they had any unexpected visitors. The other chair was dragged next to one of the beds in the corner, to get it out of the way.
After Boyd verified that the surveillance equipment was working and that it was recording successfully to the remote server, he looked over at Sin. The senior agent hadn't shown any more interest in the room, Boyd or the mission than he had since they'd first been informed of their destination.

They had stayed in silence for so long that when Sin spoke, it was abrupt.

"I'm going for supplies."

Boyd looked at him in consideration and then nodded. "I'll go with you."

Sin turned to look at him, green eyes flicking up and down before he turned away again. "Your call."

Boyd grabbed his messenger bag and a hotel key on the way out, then paused only long enough to slip a Do Not Disturb tab on the door. He followed Sin on the way out of the building and into the streets below. There was a fair amount of people in the area even at mid-morning and he took a moment to get his bearings straight. He thought about the maps he'd studied of Barcelona on the plane ride over and wondered what street would be best to check.

He turned around to ask Sin if he knew of any grocery stores nearby but Sin wasn't there. Boyd looked through the crowd quickly but the other man was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared without a word.

Lips thinning, Boyd's fingers tightened on the strap of his bag. He couldn't help a moment of irritation with Sin for leaving so suddenly. If he hadn't wanted Boyd around, why couldn't he have said so in the room? Boyd could probably muddle his way through any interactions well enough but it was going to be difficult for him to do anything too complicated when he didn't know the language. And he was supposed to be keeping an eye on Sin to make sure nothing happened. That was his charge as Sin's partner.

Since he couldn't do anything about it now that Sin was gone, he decided to go about his own business. He headed toward Carrer de Mallorca to see if he could find anything there.

Tall buildings lined the streets, many six stories or more, with balconies off almost every window. The style was reminiscent of
row houses
back in the United States, with buildings built right up against one another and only occasional gaps in between.

Unlike the concrete sidewalks Boyd was accustomed to back home, most of the sidewalks were stone or at least had a design imprinted into them. It was the middle of the day and people were everywhere. The intersections were large and wide, and short cars seemed to be the vehicles of choice. People parked them haphazardly, sometimes double parking. Scooters and mopeds were driven up onto the sidewalks and parked diagonally like impromptu parking lots.

Small stores were scattered on the first floors of the buildings, while the upper levels largely seemed to be places for people to stay or live. The buildings were all different colors; tans and yellows and teal-greens. The architecture was intricate in some areas, with designs built into the building and trim work that was reminiscent of filigree. A few of the stores were closed with metal doors pulled down that were splattered with graffiti.

As he walked, Boyd found his gaze straying up the buildings, studying details here and there. It had been years since he'd thought about it, but he'd always had an interest in architecture and history. He liked to see the imprint of time on buildings, and the influence of the age on the construction itself.

He could see spires rising in the distance and at their sight, all annoyance with Sin was forgotten, as were his intentions to get supplies and head back as soon as possible.

The huge, intricate design of the Sagrada Familia rose like a sentinel in the middle of the city. Boyd's steps slowed as he approached and his eyes drifted up higher and higher, taking in the sheer size and presence of the Roman Catholic church. In some ways it was reminiscent of a castle, with several spires and a sprawling footprint.

People were crowded around it, craning their necks to try to stare up as far as they could. The building dwarfed everything around it. Every facade was completely covered with intricate details. Statues, reliefs and scenes were built into it and construction scaffolding could barely be seen on another side. The stained glass windows were made with shades of bright colors like teals, pale blues and near-yellows that stood out against the light brown building.

Boyd started walking a slow circuit around the Sagr
ada Familia, feeling a sense of wonder rekindle that he'd thought long gone. In school he'd once written a paper on Antoni Gaudν. As a child, repeated sickness had caused Gaudν to spend a lot of time alone with nature. Some people felt that such a connecti
on had inspired his later architectural style.

To Boyd, there was no doubt that there was a lot more flow, interest and detail in Gaudν's designs than many others Boyd had seen. He enjoyed the way Gaudν made buildings seem like they came alive; perhaps bec
ause, to Boyd, whether something was living or not didn't change its presence. He'd felt the ghosts of his past haunting his home too often not to feel drawn to old buildings and places that felt like they were built for more than structure.

Walking around
Sagrada Familia, Boyd was struck even more in person than he had been through the pictures with how complicated Gaudν's vision had been. Although Boyd was not religious and didn't care either way about that aspect of the work, he couldn't deny the magnitu
de of the design when he was standing there. It felt like there were hardly any blank places on the entirety of the building; everything was lines and movement and stories spelled out in figurines and symbols. Even the base of a column he passed had a turtle carved into it, as if it were supporting the column stretching high above it.

Boyd felt the weight of history. The church had been started back in 1882 and had originally been planned to be finished in 2026; in just a few
years' time
. It still amazed Boyd that the Sagrada Familia hadn't been affected by the war but despite that good luck, the war had still set the final construction back another few years. It had been Boyd's hope since first learning of the Sagrada Familia that he would live to see its completion someday. Since he'd joined the Agency, he didn't know if that hope was fruitless after all.

Still, standing there at the base of a monument of history, Boyd felt grounded somehow. How many people had stood there over the decades, watching those spires grow taller and taller? Watching those scenes get cut into stone? How many generations had been there, and how many more would there be to come even after it was finished?

He spent some time around the Sagrada Familia but after a point all it did was make an artist's itch in the far back of his mind wish that he had a sketchbook and charcoal with him. And for all that he was interested in this, it wasn't what he was here for. After what felt like far too short of a time, he made himself regrettably pull away and go in search of supplies.