DC Evenfall II Excerpt

We got a bit behind on this week's excerpt; the holidays will do that, I suppose. Director's Cut Evenfall Vol II will be out end of this month, September 21. Don't forget to put in for the giveaways!

Ask a question at our S&A group for a chance to win ICoS swag! Entries still accepted through September 18!

Submit ANY KIND of ICoS-inspired visual art (graphic art, drawings, handmade visual art, and more) at the fanart contest, and/or vote in the contest, and be put in for another giveaway! You could win ICoS swag! Entries still accepted through September 13!

We'll be doing some blog tours coming up too so keep an eye out for that.

And now, without further ado, I bring you a little bit of Jorge for your day.

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The boy stood behind Boyd. His arms were crossed as he peered down through black hair with just enough curl to fly everywhere. He was short and skinny with dirty, ragged clothing, and sandals that were falling apart at the sole. Boyd thought the kid was maybe nine years old, but the dark stare burning out of his face belonged to someone twice his age. Someone who had been through far too much for his lifespan.

"Perdón, pero no hablo español."

The kid's lip lifted on the edge. He gave Boyd a once-over. "American?"

"I can see that makes you real happy with me," Boyd said with a grin.

The kid scoffed and turned his attention to the street. His scrutiny didn't settle for long, but Boyd figured there was someone out there watching. Maybe another courier kid, maybe the person this kid was hired by, or maybe someone else.

"Why you watching me?"

"I didn't know I was. What's your name, kid?"

"Vete a la chingada."

"Your name is vete—"

"Whaddo you want?" The kid crouched in front of Boyd. "I don't like people watch me. You don't say me the truth, I cry and make you look bad. Say you grabbed me—" A sheen of tears swelled seemingly at will. "—down there."

"Oh, Jesus. Cut the waterworks, kid. What do you want?"

"I said. I want to know why watch me. Puta madre, escucha, pendejo."

"I was curious. Thought you might be in the market—"

The kid's glower turned cold in an instant. He shifted away, but Boyd grabbed him by the upper arm.

"Not for that. Jesus Christ, that's disgusting. I meant as an employee." Boyd threw his hands up when the kid's expression hardened further. "Nothing like that! Look, can we start over? My name's Reed. What's yours, for real?"
"What's to you?"

"I'd like to think of you by name instead of 'the kid' all over my head."

There was another long moment in which it seemed the kid might run off but then he straightened. "Not here. Give me pesos."

Boyd narrowed his eyes but pulled a bill from his pocket. Satisfied, the kid snatched it and turned away. Under his breath, he asked, "¿Sabes dónde queda Pío X?"

"Where it is? Yeah."

"El parque, no la calle."

The kid disappeared over a fence and around a building before Boyd could respond.