Seemed he'd hit on something. "Well, we don't believe in God because of a rational benefit. I mean, it doesn't really domeany good to offer to die for you, and it's rather counter-productive to my survival - yet it makes me feel good to keep someone safe. The feeling of protecting another is a reward in itself." He shrugged. "I mean, human emotions often defy rational thought, and religion encourages the more positive ones, and to band together to obtain them."
She looked up at him, daring to do so in public. "You sound like an Ingénue, Brother Sin."
"Thank you, Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16." He took the last drag from his smoke and let it out in a rush. "Probably time to get you back. Thank you for waiting while I got my fix."
"My pleasure." She inhaled deeply, her lids sliding down as she enjoyed the scent.
When he offered her a hand up from the bench, a man on the far side of the tree quickly tossed his paper in the trash. It could be nothing, but Sin didn't want to risk it. Sometimes throwing away a newspaper was simply throwing away a newspaper. Other times, it was to follow a target.
Guiding the girl to his far side, he decided to make a straight line to the closest train platform. Glancing back one last time to supposedly check the tree, he let his eyes search the crowd. A few faces watched them, which wasn't unexpected, since he was in his formal uniform and the girl wore a very distinct set of blue robes. Unfortunately, the man with the paper was trailing slowly behind them. Another was headed the same way, but that could be coincidence.
"I need you to do everything I say and not to ask questions until later. Do you understand?" He started walking a bit faster, the girl stretching her legs to keep up.
"Yes, Legate."
"Left at the next intersection, walk as fast as you can." His fingers tightened on her arm, pulling her against his side.
"Ok."
He cut the corner, hoping to shave off a little time, and the girl tried her best to keep up. She was already breathing heavier, but she didn't complain and made no effort to resist his guidance. She staggered once, jogging a step to keep from falling on her face. His grip held her steady, but neither of their feet slowed. With his free hand, Sinclair checked his weapons, his eyes simultaneously scanning the path, looking for anyone too interested in them. Only the dark head of curly hair behind them caused him any concern.
"Fuck, I wish I knew how long until the train got here," he grumbled to himself.
"Twenty-nine seconds," the girl answered. "Assuming it is on time. It typically runs from three to twenty seconds late."
He growled in the back of his throat. "Fuck. Any way to know if it's slow today?"
"Four seconds on our inbound trip, Legate."
He chuckled. "Yeah, four seconds I can do. Twenty? Not as much."
The train station was just ahead, people trickling into it, making enough cover that he wanted to be there more than here. He looked at the girl again, his eyes flicking over his shoulder, and saw the man gaining on them. The second was still there as well. He couldn't see either guy's face or clothes, only the tousled top of the one's hair.
The Ingénue tilted her head slightly. "Legate, the train appears to be arriving."
"Thank God," he whispered, pushing her through the arched entrance, bending behind her without releasing her arm.
He steered her to the right, moving into the press of bodies. The crush of people slowed their motion to little more than a shuffle, allowing her to take long, deep breaths while still moving. Each step was tiny and delicate, but she held her head up instead of focused on the ground. He'd expected her to panic or resist. Instead, she'd done everything he'd asked and more. Who knew a walking brain could track the transportation schedule?
With a hiss of air and a screech of metal, the train stopped. Doors were thrown open, and bodies began pushing out as others pushed in. Sin watched for a break in the crowd, then yanked the girl forward, marching to the last car—the one reserved for special access only. His hand slammed on the lock, granting access. The door didn't even finish opening before he pushed her inside. He kept his body close against her, turning to hit the lock as soon as they were over the threshold.
The Ingénue staggered at his rough treatment but didn't complain. The sound of the door slipping closed had to be arelief to both of their ears, but the girl didn't say a thing. She simply made her way to a chair. Sin moved to look through the window, his eyes searching for the head that had bobbed after them for too many blocks. Just when he was about to give up, the dark-haired man stepped forward, their eyes meeting through the bulletproof glass. Sin just smiled.
"I believe you have a fan club," he told his angel when the second man moved to stand beside the first.
"The threat was real?" she asked.
He didn't answer until the train was moving, the dark-haired man and his partner no longer in sight. Slowly, he turned, checking his weapons to be sure all of them were secure and deactivated. She sat with her hands clenched tightly. Her hood had slipped to the side, and her veil was slightly twisted around her neck, yet her face was still completely covered. He saw it all, but cared about none of it. What mattered were her eyes. Those pools of silver were large and damp, her pupils dilated and fixed on him.
She was scared.
Chapter Twelve
"The men following us were two of Pharmacon's security officers," Sin said, making it clear he'd recognized the guys' faces. "I know them from a job I did a couple of years ago for their boss. Caleb's the head of their security, and Parker is in charge of off-campus issues. Neither is a thug and they're not desperate for money. Why would men like them be so interested in a brain for hire?"
Her response wasn't what he'd expected. While her eyes screamed her fear, her voice was steady and her chin lifted. "Your eyes are two different colors."
He sucked at his teeth, wondering if she even deserved an answer when he'd been trying to explain the threat. "Yeah. Why do the Ingénue need protection?"
