Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
On his fourth day with her, Sin was called to take the girl somewhere else, and she was falling behind again.
It seemed she still thought molasses was an appropriate speed for high threat areas.
He glanced over his shoulder and felt the grinding of his teeth.
Forcing his jaw to relax, Sin slowed down, hoping she would catch up.
He needed her to be closer. His job wasn't to sit by and watch while someone shot her, it was to protect her, and he couldn't do that with three paces between them.
"I really don't need to lose you in the middle of the street. In case you forgot, someone wants your head!"
"Yes, Legate," she answered.
She was breathing hard. He hadn't expected that.
He also hadn't noticed it before, but he hadn't really been watching her.
Did she never get off her ass? How did she keep herself so thin?
He nearly slapped his own head, reminding himself she was an Ingénue.
This woman probably calculated her caloric intake, or more likely, she just had surgical enhancement anytime her form didn't meet her expectations.
He decided a few extra minutes in the open wouldn't hurt, and she obviously couldn't keep the pace he was setting.
Sin waited for her to reach his side, then walked at the pace she set.
The girl didn't bother thanking him. She didn't even look up, but he saw her eyes move toward his legs.
With a sigh, he decided it would have to do.
For once, he would be nice to her for the entire fucking day—not just part of it.
"Ever been to DCB before?" he asked, trying to break the ice between them.
"No, Legate."
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Not usually your round, huh?"
There was a strange pause before she answered. "DCB is not a top-tier corporation. The expense of an Ingénue is outside their annual budget. This is the first and only time they have applied for a contract with OutLink."
So, did that mean they were beneath her notice?
He couldn't help but wonder what it was she did notice.
She said she liked to be outside, so maybe that was why she liked walking so slow?
He could probably use that to get her to open up a bit.
After all, he was a priest; he was supposed to be easy to talk to.
He was supposed to inspire trust. He chuckled at the thought, and the girl's head tilted slightly at the sound of his laugh.
It was an acknowledgment. Not much of one, but right about now, he'd take what he could get.
They reached the train platform, and he moved her to the side, away from the press of bodies. "So, I was thinking," he looked down, seeing only cloth, yet hoping for another one of those imperceptible twitches. "Did you want to take the path through the gardens on our way back?"
She gave him one, lifting her head almost enough to look at his belt. "That would be an inefficient use of your time, Legate, and you seem to dislike it when we are in public."
"Immediately outside OutLink, yes, because that's the easiest place to pick us off."
"I understand, Legate," she mumbled.
He groaned, dragging his hand across his face. "I was trying to be nice. Isn't usually this hard, but you aren't exactly making this a fucking friendship made in the stars. You know that, right?"
"Yes, Legate."
The train arrived, saving him from snapping her head off.
He guided her to the private car at the end.
Pressing his hand against it, a transmitter in his wrist unlocked the door.
With a gallant—and slightly sarcastic—bow, he held the door while she entered, then stepped inside himself.
The girl found a chair and lowered herself into it like a princess, her body folding as if the movement of each joint had been calculated.
It probably had.
Sin stood facing the door, watching her reflection in the glass. With his back to her, she seemed to relax. Her shoulders softened and her head even raised, daring to look through the windows. It was almost like her entire personality had just shifted again.
But in this light, her eyes weren't merely grey, he realized, they were nearly silver. They didn't look like cybernetics, but neither did his, and he'd never seen that color before in nature. Granted, they were quite pretty, most likely why she'd gotten them. Then they turned to him.
He was tired of whatever game they were playing. It was like every time he thought they'd made progress, it all vanished the very next time he saw her, forcing him to start all over. Who knew, maybe she wanted him to act like a well-mannered servant? If so, he could do that. He'd even do it nicely.
Watching the skyline of New Cincinnati pass by, he tried to ignore her reflection, but he could feel her eyes on his back.
She was boldly checking out every part of his body.
Her gaze lingered on his weapons for only a moment, but hung on his spine.
Sin fought the urge to smile. She was trying to make out the lines painted on his armor.
He wondered how long it would take the genius to realize they were wings.
Every Legate designed his own and decorated his gear with them. Sin's were supposed to appear as if folded across his back. He had no need for flight, but he desired the embrace of God. That was what the design signified, but he wasn't exactly an artist.
Her eyes moved lower, lingering on his behind.
He shifted, lifting his chin slightly and wishing the exo-armor was a little less revealing.
When her eyes still didn't leave, he shifted again, grasping his hands behind his back so they hung across his ass, blocking her view.
He licked his lips and reminded himself there was no need to blush.
He was not a schoolboy, ignorant of why she would look. He was also married.
Ok, not exactly, but that was how the Legates saw it.
They'd dedicated their bodies to God and had taken a vow of celibacy.
He would not acknowledge her blatant examination of his ass.
He wouldn't. He wanted to tell her to keep her eyes to herself, but then she would think it bothered him.
She'd be right, but he didn't need to tell her that.
Just as his skin began to cool, the train passed into a tunnel. The lights inside the car fought against the darkness, the window a barrier between them. It was a stalemate, only the reflections in the glass winning as the transparency decreased and the girl behind him became much more visible.
Her inspection moved to his neck, lingering over the ponytail brushing his shoulders before reaching his jaw.
Then her eyes found his waiting for her in the glass.
She gasped, the sound little more than a soft gust of air through the veils, and jerked back, turning her head to the ground. Maybe the odds had evened just a bit.
"Like what you saw?" he asked.
"Yes, Legate," she replied, then realized what she'd said. "I mean, no, Legate."
He turned, fighting the urge to laugh. "Which is it?"
"I am unaware of the proper answer to that question," she whispered, daring to look up.
So he wasn't the only one to feel a little uncomfortable. Sin crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, swaying with the movement of the train. "The answer is the one that's true, Princess."
"You appear to be well-suited to combat, Legate."
He groaned. "Enough with the Legate bullshit, ok? It's Brother Sin, or hell, if you're nice, just Sin will do."
She made a noise that would have sounded like a giggle if it had been louder. "Brother Sin?"
"Oxymoron. Yes, I know that word. My name's Sinclair."
"Yes. Sinclair Cassis, Imperator of the Legionnaires, most venerated Legate in the last decade. You made headlines when you saved George Stephanson in the human rights riots last year."
"So you checked me out, huh?"
He watched her eyes widen. "Yes, Legate. I am sorry if it was offensive. I just -"
"I meant my record," he said with a laugh. "I already knew your eyes work just fine when no one is looking. Saw that for myself."
She looked back to the floor. "I've just never seen a priest before you. I did not expect one to be quite so physically fit."
"That's why you were looking at my ass?" He was grinning at her discomfort.
"No." She looked up at him quickly, the skin around her eyes not flushed like he'd expect from his teasing, but pallid. Her next words were barely a whisper. "Please do not report me for it?"
"Report you to who?" Maybe there was more to this girl than he'd thought. He should have trusted Benedict.
"My employers."
He sighed and pushed himself away from the wall, moving to the chair beside her.
"Princess, why are you talking to me now?
You've been a little bitch since we left OutLink, but now you're suddenly different?
Never mind the lovely chat we managed to have yesterday.
Is it just because you think I'm going to complain or something? "
"The trains are not monitored, Brother Sin."
He thought about that for a moment. "But OutLink and the station are?"
"Yes."
He slowly began to nod. "And I'm assuming the parks aren't. Ok. So if I'm supposed to protect you, why aren't you supposed to talk to me?"
"We are only supposed to answer a direct question. It is considered offensive to offer advice to someone with less intellect, and could be taken as an intentional insult. To prevent this, all Ingénues shall only speak when spoken to, and only to answer a question."
He reached over and touched her shoulder, his broad hand so large against her bony frame. "Our secret, ok? I just thought you were being a bitch again. What happens if you do talk to me?"
She stared at the floor, her eyes slowly inspecting the creases between each tile. "We are about to reach our destination. I will not let this happen again, Brother Sin. I apologize for my behavior."
"Ingénue," he said, feeling the little spark between them fading quickly. "You should know the Legion did not assign me to protect OutLink. My only vow is to protect you, Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16. They didn't even give me your name."
"Yes, Legate."
"Princess, I'm not going to tell anyone if you talk to me." He rubbed her shoulder gently and leaned back. This assignment was officially nothing like he'd expected.
Silence hung between them. He tried to find a way to get her talking again, but she simply stared at the floor.
Part of his job was to be a confidante. He served as a conscience and a sounding board, his clients' secrets protected by his litany of vows.
He'd never had a client so reticent around him.
Sure, it usually took a bit for them to warm up, but Sin was good at setting people at ease.
At least he always had been before. This time, he was failing.
He might be able to protect the girl's body, but what about the rest?
"I hate silence," he admitted. "Always have. Kinda makes me feel like I'm alone in the world, you know?"
"It really is blue," the girl said.
It took him a second to figure out what she was talking about. "Your favorite color?"
"Dark blue, like the sky just before it turns purple."
"Indigo?"
She shook her head, the edges of her hood swishing against her face. "Too purple. Almost midnight blue."
"Like my armor?"
She looked over, her eyes on his legs and shrugged. "Close. A bit lighter."
"Almost iridescent with hints of purple in the shadows and promises of vibrance in the highlights?" He nodded. "That point in the evening where it isn't night and isn't day, and you aren't sure if you're ready for it all to end."
"You've seen it?" She dared to look at him, those silver eyes trembling between each of his.
"Yeah." He ducked his head to see her better. "You haven't?"
"Only in pictures."
How the hell had she never seen twilight?
What was going on in OutLink? Could he really have been so wrong about this girl?
He checked his watch. Four hours until sunset, and there was no way he'd be able to keep her out that long without her employers asking questions.
Frustrated, he bounced his fist against the arm of the chair, his mind whirling.
"Princess, I'm gonna make sure you see it. We'll take the long way back one afternoon and head to the top of a building. Up there, the sky goes on for miles, and you can almost feel it curving around the planet."
The train began to slow, their destination the next stop. His free time with her was coming to an end, but that spark was back. Today he'd take her through the gardens, and he'd find a time to let her see twilight.
"It's a nice thought, Brother Sin," she said. "I won't hold you to it, but thank you for the offer." She adjusted the skirts of her robe, one hand reaching up to the left side of her face, checking the placement of her veil.
"And you should probably know that discussions with your priest are confidential and off the record." He stood and offered her a hand. "Anything you tell me, at any time, is only between us and God."
She took his hand with a grip more firm than he expected. Once she was standing, her eyes met his again, stronger this time, more confident. "God is a statistical improbability."
"Yeah. Not an impossibility. Life is a statistical improbability too, but," he gestured around them, "it's happened more than once. Earth, and now here on Tyche." He tilted his head to the door just as the glass hissed open.
The girl moved to his side, pausing before she stepped across the threshold. "So, there could be more than one god?" Without waiting for the answer, she crossed the narrow gap to the platform, leaving him no way to answer without betraying her confidence.
He laughed and reached down for her elbow, guiding her away from the people.
So she was brilliant. She also had a sense of humor under those robes, and a very quick wit.
She'd just taunted his religion and put him in a position where he had to take it.
The most impressive thing was, she'd done it all without raising her voice.
The entire walk from the station to the DCB offices, he found himself chuckling.
She was going to keep him on his toes, but he needed it.
Beside him, the demure figure in OutLink blue glided along the ground as if she was more mechanical than human.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was doing the right thing.
He was the hand of God, and he'd finally been assigned an angel who truly needed him.
She just had no idea what it meant to have a Legate protector. Not yet.