Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
The wind was ripped from Sin's lungs as the oxygen in the air burned, the sound ringing in his ears long after it was over.
He'd hit the concrete. He didn't remember falling, but he'd been slung at least ten feet, one of those decorative concrete boxes stopping his body.
Everything was dark, but a few yards in front of him, a still form in blue cloth lay crumpled on the ground.
"Rissa?" he called, crawling toward her. He couldn't hear anything except the ringing. Not even his own voice. "Riss! Damn it, Rissa, I can't hear you!"
She didn't move. Shaking his head, he tried to find his feet, but the world was spinning, so he dropped back to his hands and knees. She shouldn't be lying like that. Something was wrong.
Which was when he remembered the punks in the security room of the station.
Belatedly, Sin looked around, trying to identify where he was.
Unfortunately, all of his landmarks were gone.
Over there was a pile of rubble. Beside him was a mound of dirt.
On the other side were mangled bars of metal—the tracks.
Whipping his head from side to side, he couldn't quite tell where he was, but one thing was clear.
Nothing else was moving.
Sin aimed for the jumble of blue cloth. That was all that mattered, and she was further from the blast than him, but she wasn't moving.
Something didn't look right, but he refused to accept it, so he kept crawling.
He would not give up on her. Not now. Not when she was so close to finally being free!
He made it almost to her side before he realized it was her hair he was seeing. The hood had been slung away from her face, leaving only the veil still attached, and only barely. He crawled the last step and shook her, but she didn't respond.
"Don't be dead," he begged her. "Please, baby, don't die on me."
Fuck her modesty. He yanked the veil away from her face with one hand, pulling off his glove with the other, and pressed his fingers to her throat.
A slow thrumming beat against his hand. She was alive.
He was so relieved a laugh escaped, the sound muffled yet audible in his own ears.
With each second, the ringing lessened as he watched Rissa's chest rise and fall.
She was breathing. She had a heartbeat. She was alive.
He didn't even stop to think about the carnage behind them.
"Hey." He shook her again, but when she didn't respond, he reached up to pat her face, and paused.
Her black hair pooled on the ground like spilled ink. Delicate silver circles peeked through it like ornaments against the side of her head, but that wasn't what shocked him. It was her face.
"Rissa," he said again, leaning over her. He wanted to see what she looked like with her eyes open.
She slowly lifted her lids. "What happened?"
That silver gaze landed on him and Sin had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Her lips were cracked and pale. Her skin was pallid.
Beneath all of that was the most beautiful woman he'd ever imagined.
He felt his heart stumble in his chest as he realized that all this time, the woman he'd grown so fond of wasn't simply brilliant. She was fucking perfect.
"They bombed the station security building," he managed to tell her. "Are you ok?"
She nodded, then paused, her eyes growing wide. With a gasp she sat up, reaching for the cloth at her shoulders and trying to pull it across her face as she scrambled away from him. "Don't look at me!"
Sin grabbed her arm, preventing her retreat. "You're beautiful, Rissa. I already saw your face, and you have nothing to worry about, ok?"
"You're lying."
He shook his head, realizing they had bigger problems. "Fourth precept. I can't intentionally deceive you. Are you hurt?"
Clutching a wad of cloth before her mouth, she shook her head timidly. "Nothing significant. I have a few minor abrasions, some bruises, but nothing is broken or damaged."
"Thank you, God," Sin muttered as he pulled himself to his feet. "Ok. We have to go. Emergency services will be here soon, and there's a few men with bullets in them over there. Shit, and the train's not an option. Means we can't get to the fucking safe house!"
"But OutLink won't look for me until tomorrow," she pointed out.
"What?" He shook his head, trying to get rid of the last of this disorientation.
"When we left," she reminded him, "the technician said he would clock me back in on time—in case you were moving slowly."
Shit, was that today? It felt like a lifetime ago, but she was right. It also gave him a few more options. He quickly began checking his weapons, making sure he had them all, because right now, they needed to vanish, which meant being anything but an Ingénue and a Legate.
"Ok, so as far as anyone knows, Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16 is safe at OutLink. I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible, so we need to change." He rubbed at his head, thinking quickly. "What's under your robe?"
"Nothing." When he looked at her in shock, she added. "Undergarments."
"Fuck. Ok, stay here."
Because he knew one thing that would cover her, but everything had shifted in the blast. Looking around, he tried to find the man who'd given his life for them, but it took a while. Eventually, he spotted a leg. That had to be him.
Sin pushed to his feet, thankful he was finally stable, and headed to Caleb.
A small hole between the man's eyes was the first thing Sin saw, but Caleb's trench coat was functional.
Sin manhandled the body, removing the coat, whispering his apologies the whole time.
When it was finally free, he hurried back to Rissa.
"Put this on. Make sure your robes are completely hidden beneath it," he ordered. "No signs of blue, Riss."
"Where did you get this?" she asked, lowering the cloth from her face.
He held it out to her. "Don't ask, just put it on. We have to move."
She shoved her arms into the sleeves and started buttoning it while Sin worked on getting out of his armor.
The damned stuff clung to him, and all he had on under it were a pair of tight pants and a tee that might as well be painted on.
And yet, when Rissa's eyes ran across him, he decided it was good enough.
Once they both looked like nothing more than normal people, he stood and helped her up. Tucking the pile of his armor under his arm, he hoped it looked like nothing more than a package he was carrying. Then, wrapping an arm around Rissa's shoulders, he guided her towards the exit.
She kept her head down, her hands fumbling with the belt on Caleb's coat while they walked. Sin was pretty sure she recognized it, but the girl didn't say a thing. She just kept pace with him, stretching her legs as much as she could.
And she left her face uncovered.
Twice, he glanced over, needing to convince himself she was real.
For a woman who feared being disgusting, she was not what he'd expected.
Yes, she was covered in cybernetics, but elegantly.
If she'd had a few piercings or neon hair, he would've assumed she was any typical neurojock, although typical was the wrong word.
Gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. Amazing. Those were the words he wanted to use, but they weren't right. Rissa was so much more than her appearance. He'd grown attached to her mind and personality, but seeing her? The word that fit best was angel.
They'd barely left the station and crossed the street when the sound of sirens pierced the air. He turned again, guiding her along the shadows of another building until they were a block over. The whole time, his eyes scanned everything, waiting for more of those punks to appear.
"We need to walk back to the Consumer District," he told her. "Riss, it's not close, but the train isn't running. I know a lot has happened, but I need you to hold it together a little longer. Can you handle this?"
"Yes, Legate," she whispered meekly.
"It's still Sin," he told her. "Right now, I need you to not call me Legate or Brother.
If anyone asks, you are my dear friend, and we're buying you new clothes because you got a stain on yours when one of the bombs went off.
We were not in the middle of one. We have not been to the Market District today, ok?
We've been over in the Consumer District this whole time.
We'll get a single outfit at the first store, discard your robes and the coat, then purchase Stabiltrol and additional clothing. Think you can do that?"
"Ok."
He stopped, pulling her around to face him. "Rissa, are you ok? I need you with me right now. I know this is a lot to take in, but just hang in there until we get you home, ok? Please? I'm going to need a lot of your help if we want to make sure you disappear."
She bit her lip and nodded, her face still turned to the ground. "I will, I just don't want to cause any more problems."
She'd just turned reticent and demure on him. Not that either of those was right, and she hadn't reverted to acting like a bot, but this was not the woman he knew. This version was clearly scared out of her mind, so the least he could do was comfort her.
"You're not a problem," he swore. "Never, Riss." Then he angled them towards a sheltered nook. "I'm also not sure we're out of the woods yet. That means I need my guns where I can get to them."
She moved into the indentation beside the building with him, but she refused to look at his face. Sin was getting worried about her, but he truly believed she'd be able to do this. As he knelt to unroll his armor and retrieve his two favorite pistols, he realized all of his plans were now shit.
They couldn't get to Davis's safe house.
He refused to take her back to OutLink. There were terrorists and street gangs on the streets right now, and from the delay in the emergency response time, he had a feeling the city police were stretched thin.
In other words, they were completely on their own, but he could handle that.
Just as he made his decision, Rissa finally spoke up. "Is Caleb dead?"
His hands stilled. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Riss, but he is."
"And this is his coat?" she asked.
He nodded. "It is. I really don't think he'd mind you using it." Then he removed two of his guns and offered them to her. "Hold these?"
She didn't flinch away from the weapons, which was good, but she also didn't lift her head.
He hadn't expected her to be this shaken, but she had been pretty isolated.
After retrieving his wallet as well, Sin packed his mess back up.
Working quickly, he rolled back up his exo-armor and secured it.
When he held out a hand, Rissa passed back the guns.
Sin tilted his head to the street as he tucked them inside his waistband. His shirt was too tight to offer much concealment, but he shifted it over the weapons anyway, hoping it would do. At least they no longer looked like an Ingénue and her Legate.