Evenfall (50 page)

The venom that had started swirling in Sin's system began to burn. The arrogance of this person was astounding. He must think himself untouchable. Safe beyond a measure of doubt.

"Where is he now?"

Ryan scanned the page with an abnormal speed but somehow took in every piece of information. "According to what we have in the database about him, he's still a lieutenant in the Outlaws but really heavy into drugs. He's in a methadone program but still does heroin at the same time. And... oh, he currently resides at 289 Hammond Place in the Industrial district. Hmm… It seems that he is just squatting there but it's on his residency placard for some re--"

Sin was gone before the sentence could be completed.

===

Aside from the Barrows, the Industrial district was one of the worst places to be in the city after a certain time. Despite the curfew that the police had put on the area, it could still be a haven of crime. Robberies were a frequent occurrence as were random acts of violence. The area was controlled by the South Side Boys ironically enough so Sin had no idea why Strickland was even living there. Perhaps it was close enough to the Theater District that he felt comfortable.

289 Hammond Place was one of the abandoned tenement buildings that hovered in one grid of the district. It was dilapidated and against building code, but no one was supposed to live there so nobody cared. Jared Strickland lived on the top floor. It appeared to be half hideout, half drug den; paraphernalia was scattered everywhere in the loft-like space he occupied.

The years hadn't been kind to Strickland. Years of fighting, drugs and alcohol had aged him. He was only in his
mid-twenties
but he looked closer to forty-five. His eyes were as hard as they had been in the video and his face just as cruel. He was one of those rare people whose inner qualities seemed to be displayed across his outward appearance like a banner. But despite this toughness, Strickland was obviously not doing well. He looked emaciated and weak. The room stank of sickness.

Strickland sat on the filthy mattress that sagged on the floor and peered out the window with anxious eyes. His hands were shaking slightly and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. He looked pale and unclean; his eyes looked sunken in and had a yellowish tinge.

He didn't seem to sense that someone else had entered the room until the shadows shifted in the corner. His eyes snapped to the area and narrowed, mouth twisting in a hateful sneer.

"It's about time," he growled. "I feel like fucking shit waiting for you. I can't even get up."

His only answer was silence but silence that was punctuated with the undeniable fact that there was someone else in the room. Strickland shifted on the bed and shakily pulled himself to a stand.

"Archie, what the hell are you doing?"

Sin's dark figure detached itself from the rest of the shadows and Jared recoiled instantly. He pushed himself back against the wall, tremors increasing as he bent to grope the dirty sheets for a weapon. His skinny body moved erratically, fingers barely able to perform the search.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Sin didn't respond and walked towards him calmly. The moonlight illuminated his face as Strickland looked at him with a growing sense of unease. His arrogance didn't seem to be with him at the moment. Neither did the prowess he'd showed with his blade on the video. Now he just looked helpless. He was starting to look frightened as well.

"I'm warning you man, you're fucking with the wrong dude," Strickland said lowly. His breath was coming in fast, uneven spurts.

Sin didn't stop walking until he was standing directly in front of him. Strickland pressed his back against the wall, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to cling to his arrogance. If he'd been face to face with anyone else he would have likely started dropping Outlaw names, claiming that Fender Aulds himself would avenge him if anything happened.

But Sin wasn't anyone else. His face was devoid of emotion, his green eyes burning with hatred. At the moment it didn't process that this would be cold blooded murder. It didn't process that this man was helpless. Defenseless. At the moment he just saw an arrogant killer who was still wearing the Krauszer pendant on his thin neck.

"Dude--what do you want?" Strickland demanded desperately, scuttling away from Sin. "Money? Drugs? Fuck man, just tell me what you want!"

Sin's full mouth twisted up into a smile. "I want you to remember this."

Jared's blood-curdling screams echoed through the Industrial district for hours. No one came to his aid.

===

When Boyd entered his house, it was dark and silent. He absently flipped on a light as he dropped his bag on the couch in the living room. The meeting with Andrews had ended up running long and he was tired. Part of him wanted to go straight to sleep but he decided he needed some wind down time to relax. He headed toward the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

He turned the light on as he walked into the kitchen. The unexpected sight of someone sitting in there made his heart jump with adrenaline and alarm. It took a second to realize that it was Sin, sitting at his kitchen table, his eyes down and face void of expression. Boyd was completely taken off guard by the presence of his partner, who he'd never told where he lived.

"Sin," Boyd said in surprise. "What-- How did you get in here?"

Sin's vivid green eyes rose and he stared at Boyd for a long moment before he shifted in the chair. It was then that his shirt became more visible, as well as the blood stains that were splattered on it. Closer inspection showed that there were remnants of blood also visible on his hands, with splatters on his face and neck. It was barely visible as if he'd tried to quickly scrub himself clean but hadn't been able to do a thorough job.

"I picked the lock."

"What? Why--?" The scene almost felt surreal but it was quickly being eclipsed by confusion and growing concern. Boyd moved toward his partner. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Sin replied quickly, standing and moving further away from Boyd. He raked both hands through his hair, the movements slightly unsteady. "Fine."

Boyd stopped, hands still partially raised from when he'd been about to reach out. Sin's reaction only confused him further. The strangeness of the situation was beginning to make him nervous.

"Sin, what's going on?" he asked a little warily. He stayed where he was, although now he was getting even more worried about his partner and the question of whose blood that was.

Sin's gaze flicked away again and he didn't reply. His face was drawn in blankness except for eyes that burned like green fire. It was an expression that was eerily similar to the one he took on when a mission was occurring. A mission where he shut everything else out and became the killing machine he was said to be.

Boyd hesitated. Was this the precursor to one of Sin's episodes? No one had ever fully determined what exactly caused them.

Despite seeming as though he may have washed some off, there was enough blood left on Sin to make it seem very likely that he'd killed someone. Who? As far as Boyd knew, Sin hadn't been on a mission although one could have come up. But if he hadn't been, had something happened? Had he snapped? Had he killed a civilian? Was this the beginning of an episode and, if so, was it possible he would attack Boyd?

If that happened, would Boyd be able to stop it this time?

"Sin..."

He watched his partner, feeling poised on a moment of uncertainty. He wanted to move closer to him to see if he was injured; see if he needed help. At the same time, his instincts were yelling at him to move to the far side of the room and stay near an exit in case he needed to run.

He didn't know what to do in a situation like this, and it was starting to scare him.

"Sin, what do you want from me?" Boyd asked carefully.

At that Sin looked up and moved forward, reaching out suddenly. It was so abrupt of a movement, and so unexpected, that Boyd took an automatic step back. Alarm flashed across his face before he could stop it and he tensed as he subconsciously fell into a defensive stance.

There was another pause, but this time Sin seemed to freeze. There was a brief flash of something in his expression as stared at Boyd for a long moment, but then his eyes dropped as his mouth turned down.

"I found something... of yours."

"What..?" Boyd felt like he was constantly losing his balance in this conversation.

There was another brief stretch of strained silence before Sin put something on the table and slid it across towards Boyd.

Boyd looked down, his eyebrows drawing together at first. A necklace? He didn't even have any necklaces so how could it be his? He started to reach for it when he registered that there was a ring on it. Something about it made dread pool in the pit of his stomach and it was only a second later when he recognized it.

Lou's ring.

Lou's necklace.

The necklace he was wearing when he--

Boyd's hand snapped away and he stumbled back automatically. His face drained of blood, a look of horror twisting his features. The dread in his stomach spread like wildfire with nausea as thick as smoke--

That day slammed back into his mind with sharp, frightening clarity. The memories he'd been trying to push away and suppress and ignore and pretend it hadn't happened, it had all been a nightmare, it had all been--

Lou's face, twisted in agony and impotence-- that helpless, terrible certainty that moved between them when they realized it had all gone so horribly out of control and there was no stopping it-- there was no changing the way that fight was going and Lou was going to die--

Bile was at the back of his throat and Boyd's arms jerked against his stomach. The memory of that knife, hot with Lou's blood, plunging into him-- and it hurt, it hurt so much as they held him still and smirked and laughed. When the knife drove into him he couldn't help thinking, this is what Lou felt, this is what Lou felt when he--

He was going to throw up. He couldn't be here. He couldn't...

Boyd turned around and walked out of the kitchen, feeling ten steps removed from the moment and unable to deal with any of it. He was barely able to hold everything together so it wouldn't make him break down again. Lou's violent death and the anguish in his eyes right up until the end-- those blue eyes that used to follow his movements and those lips that smiled at his presence and brushed his warmly when they were close--

No. No, no, no, he didn't want to remember, he didn't want to hurt like that again...

Nowhere felt safe in his house but he fled anyway, going into his parents' old room because it didn't have memories of Lou there. Memories and emotions and pain were an avalanche growing inside, ready to topple and suffocate him, and he had to be alone before it happened. He couldn't show that weakness; he couldn't let anyone hurt him with it again.

His body was taut as a rubber band ready to snap and he was gritting his teeth, coiled in on himself in a dark corner and holding tightly to his knees. It was rising in him; the agony and the horrific memories and he could practically feel again the ghost of that hot blood splattering his face and Lou-- his best friend, his lover, his protector, his brother, his everyone-- Lou's eyes going from wide and shocked (as if he was asking himself,
Can it really end like this?)
and pained (
Don't hurt Boyd, don't put your hands on him!)
to glassy and dead--

Pain and a torrent of tears and too much, far too much built in him-- memories of Dauphin Street and afterward and everything that he'd tried so hard for so long to push away so he could function. Lou's death had destroyed him and it had taken everything to make it through that and the aftermath. And all along it had only been reinforced-- he shouldn't show weakness so they wouldn't hurt him again, so no one would hurt him again.

But all those years of trying to deny and repress were ripped out and flayed by the sight of one innocuous necklace. His fingers dug into his hair and he pressed his face against his knees and he tried so hard not to cry, not to vomit, but he didn't make it long.

He didn't even hear when Sin had left.

Chapter 16

The week following his birthday was punctuated with nightmares like Boyd hadn't had in years, and overwhelming moments of feeling at a complete loss. He avoided the kitchen for most of the next day, not wanting to confront the memories that seemed too stark and cutting. It made it feel like Lou's murder had happened yesterday instead of years before, and like all the months he'd spent layering avoidance upon apathy upon denial were now taken away.

When he closed his eyes he had the nightmares again. That day, over and over in his mind. Remembering the feel of the wall hard against his back, his hair catching on the bricks and Lou's chuckle. The guilty thrill of his lover, his best friend, pressing him to the side of an alley and that happy feeling that had suffused him when they'd touched foreheads and smiled at each other.

The erroneous belief that everything would be okay. That they had each other, no matter what.

And after that, the horror that for so long he'd wanted to believe had just been a dream, a terrible dream that he could wake from. But it was all there, locked in his memory and seeping poison. The laughter around him; the hands digging into his arms and fists slamming into him until he fell.

Their taunts and inhumanity. Blood spilling out of Lou's mouth and mocking words sliding around them.

"I think you broke some of this fucker's teeth."

"It'll make it easier for him to give head."

And Jared's face, burned into his mind like a brand. That smirk; that arrogance. The way he played with the knife. The way he played with them.

"This your little woman? I always knew you were a fucking faggot, Lou."

Those hated fingers digging in his hair; the feeling of the world as a black hole collapsing in on itself and everything falling apart. That face, close to him and smirking. And, more than anything, the words that had haunted his dreams and mocked every scream, every hysterical sob in the long weeks that had followed.

"I want you to remember this."

During the waking hours he tried not to remember Lou's death because it hurt so much but at night it was all he saw, over and over. Arcing blood and the wet, dead weight sound of a body falling to the ground. The feel of hot blood licking his cheeks; getting smeared by his tears.

His remembered his throat going raw from screaming and, feeling worse and worse each time he remembered it, the impotence and terror of being held down throughout it all. Unable to do anything. Unable to stop the moment that destroyed everything for him. Unable to protect his lover only a few feet away. Unable to even protect himself. And, compounding it, other memories crowding in. Dark shadows and painful wrists and the taste of blood in his throat. The fear only growing and growing until it was enough to eclipse all else.

It took several days to be able to function on any level. He'd spent years trying to protect himself from the very thing that had so unexpectedly been brought back to him. At first it was all he could do to make it through the night. He spent more hours awake than not and finally breached the kitchen for tea.

Later, he was able to look at the situation askance just enough to realize that the presence of the ring and the blood must mean Sin had found Jared. He'd tracked down the arrogant son of a bitch who had destroyed Boyd's life and murdered Lou for fun, and he'd brought the ring back as proof.

But even when he'd realized that, it was still too much to comprehend. Too much to take in. He'd spent so long trying to protect himself from these very memories that it was a struggle to get over them at all. Let alone formulate any sort of coherent response.

During that period Boyd and Sin saw each other at a meeting. Boyd didn't remember much of the meeting itself. He'd felt Sin's green eyes burning into him from time to time but Boyd hadn't been able to speak to him. He didn't know what to say when he barely had words for himself. He didn't know what to do when he was still reeling from it all.

So he ended up partially avoiding Sin because he was almost afraid to be alone with him. Afraid that there hadn't been enough time for him to rediscover his balance. Afraid that Sin would ask him questions he couldn't answer and afraid that being alone with him would make him start thinking too much about the whole situation. Like how had Jared died? Had he suffered? Had that piece of shit remembered what he'd done to Lou and had he been keeping that ring as some sort of laughing memento? How could Jared have lived so long when Lou, Lou who'd been everything to Boyd, had been killed so violently and so soon?

It was over a week and a half since his birthday, and a few days since the first meeting, when Boyd was called into a briefing. He'd managed to force himself to come to terms on some level with the situation but he was still at a loss as to how to respond to Sin.

Nothing seemed right and part of him wasn't sure he wanted to broach the subject anyway. Part of him wanted to simply accept the knowledge (and the relief he hadn't realized he'd been waiting for) of knowing that Jared was dead, and not examine it any further. That part of him wanted the ability to walk away from all the terrible feelings that had been dredged up and try, once again, to start anew. Yet another part of him knew he was only fooling himself to think he could do that, and pointed out that obviously the first time he'd done it he'd only buried the feelings or else they wouldn't have hurt him so much when they were sliced back open.

Regardless of that, the one thing he knew was that it was painful enough to think about and felt impossible to talk about. The very concept was overwhelming.

At the meeting, Boyd sat down next to Ryan while Jeffrey focused on his panel. Owen came in later than Boyd and, with a sleepy, disgruntled look at Boyd for stealing his usual spot, he moved to the other side of the table.

Sin and Carhart were already there. Boyd noticed in glancing past Sin that he was expressionless, reminiscent of the way he'd been before they'd started talking. Although Boyd  noted that, he didn't know what to do about it. Since the briefing was about to start, he felt relief in knowing that he didn't have to try to figure it out.

"I won't bother to ask how everyone is doing," Carhart said dryly, taking in Boyd's somber face and Sin's non-expression. "I'm sure everyone's tired of doing nothing for so long, but the good news is that we finally arranged a meeting with Thierry."

When neither of his field agents commented, Carhart scowled and looked between them more closely. "Is there something I need to know?"

Boyd kept his eyes on Carhart while he silently shook his head. Owen looked between Sin and Boyd with sleepy interest, and Jeffrey watched them strangely.
"It's probably the weather," Ryan said lamely after an awkward moment of silence.

Carhart stared at Ryan briefly before shaking his head. "Anyway. The meeting will be in France and is expected to last two days. That is all he claimed he can spare, and that's your window for getting the
Intel
from him. Arrangements have already been made and you will be staying at Thierry's hotel in Paris. You leave tonight."

"He has a hotel?" Ryan asked. "I didn't know he was that loaded."

"Yes. But I don't really wish to discuss the man's money." Carhart made a face and continued. "I cannot stress enough the importance of this mission. He's willing to give us data on Janus' inner core, with a very high probability that it is legitimate. Before now, their inner core has been almost mythical because it's been completely out of our reach."

His blond eyebrows drew together as he gave Sin and Boyd significant looks. "Thierry is very fickle, as you should know, Sin. His cooperation depends on his mood so you need to keep him happy. I don't care what you have to do as long as you stay on his good side. He's loyal to no one in particular and will go with whoever best suits his needs and whims at the moment."

"It should be noted," Jeffrey said mildly, "that the area the hotel is set in is very high class. If you stand out too much," and his gaze settled on Sin, "then you may irritate Thierry. He does not want it known that he associates with questionable people."

Owen nodded, leaning against one hand. "You'll be going penguin-style."

"Sin?" It seemed as though Sin hadn't even heard him so Carhart leaned forward and slammed his hand against the table. "Wake up."

Green eyes lifted and stared at Carhart moodily. "Yes?"

"You need to do something about that hair. Report to Cynthia in Unit 16 immediately after this meeting."

Sin looked at him with barely concealed contempt. "Whatever."

"It sucks for you guys, though," Owen said to Sin and Boyd, completely idly as if he had not heard Carhart and Sin's exchange. "He gave you no time. Gave me no time, either... I had to get you plane tickets for tonight already, and I bet you a week's vacation that tomorrow he'll be expecting you to be bright-eyed and chipper, and..." Owen trailed off in confusion for a second. He turned to look at Ryan almost curiously, as if asking him silently what he had been talking about. "And all awake. And chipper."

"He will," Carhart agreed. "He demanded that the meeting be tomorrow and no later or the whole deal was off. I don't particularly enjoy playing his games but unfortunately the current state of affairs leave me very little choice. He is very particular about what he wa--"

"What I don't understand," Sin
interrupted
coldly and flatly, "is why my presence is needed at all. My job is to kill. There will be no killing. I serve no purpose."

"Oh, I'm sure you can find the odd innocent bystander to rip into," Jeffrey drawled.

Sin stared at him and said nothing.

Carhart was silent a moment as he sized up the senior agent. His blue eyes were narrowed and his expression was becoming increasingly stormy. "You're going because it's your job. You and Boyd are a team. Your job is to back him up when things get out of hand. This isn't a Warren Andrews mission where we know exactly how to handle him. Thierry is a wildcard, we can't trust him. For all we know this could very well be a trap."

Sin's eyes flicked to Boyd but his eyes almost immediately moved away. "He can handle it," he said flatly. "Just put me back in my fucking box and stop making me go on these bullshit assignments."

Carhart's mouth tightened into a line and he looked at the others. "Jeff, give Boyd the overview. Sin. See me outside. Now." He stood up abruptly, gave Sin another frozen look and strode outside.

Sin's mouth twisted into a humorless smile and he followed Carhart. Boyd watched the two leave, wondering briefly what was being said out there. He kept his expression blank and unreadable.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Jeffrey asked Boyd, actually sounding curious. He slid two panels across the table.

"Nothing," Boyd said tonelessly. He grabbed one of the panels and turned it on, flicking through the documents on the touchscreen quickly. There was the mission outline, background information on Thierry, the information to download their tickets and more.

Shrugging in complete unconcern, Jeffrey didn't challenge the comment when Boyd said nothing more. "If you lose the password, you will be out of luck. The information is heavily encrypted."

"Ah," Boyd said, for lack of anything better to say.

Jeffrey just shook his head and looked back at his panel. "I'm sure you can read and you have an eight hour flight so I don't really see the need to tell you detail by detail right now."

Boyd nodded. "I understand."

Jeffrey gave up with a mildly irritated sigh.

Ryan frowned slightly and leaned closer to Boyd, speaking low enough to be unheard by Owen and Jeffrey. "What happened? You were both doing so well."

Boyd just shook his head, not wanting to go into the details. He did his best to not seem completely unapproachable in the movement but he didn't know how successful he was.

Although he'd spent some time around Ryan on and off over the last few months, and although he did like him and they'd spoken a bit about some personal information, Boyd hadn't told anyone about Lou. He couldn't even come up with adequate words for Sin, let alone Ryan.

Ryan frowned and his eyes looked almost skeptical behind his glasses. "I know it's none of my business but ever since that night Sin came to my apartment--"

The door slammed open with a crack, cutting Ryan off. Carhart reappeared, a black look on his normally affable face. "Boyd, get in my office."

Boyd looked over immediately and felt his stomach drop. Any questions that had started to form in his mind as to why in the world Sin had been at Ryan's apartment, fled when he saw Carhart's face. His expression automatically turned blank and he pushed himself to his feet. "Yes, sir."

Carhart got ahead of him while he delayed long enough to grab his belongings. When he reached the office, Carhart was already there. He stood facing his window, hands clasped behind his back. His spine was ramrod straight and everything about his posture screamed anger and tension. He seemed upset from whatever had been said in his exchange with Sin but Sin was nowhere in sight.

Boyd shut the door behind him quietly, but did not move much further into the room. Every time Boyd could remember being in Carhart's presence before he had seemed in a relatively good mood and if he was angry it was never at Boyd. But now that didn't seem to be the case. As he stood there, he didn't dare look at the walls, didn't dare do anything but watch Carhart's back with the utmost respect.
Carhart stood there for several moments before saying anything. The silence practically hummed with tension that thickened the air, radiating off the obviously upset General.