Acquainted ⇒ Brett Talbot

IX. Irony

"Assassins? Benefactor? What the hell are you talking about?"

Brett reclines on my couch with his feet kicked up onto the armrest. "Okay, in short: someone who goes by The Benefactor wants to kill every supernatural creature in Beacon County. So, they made a list depicting every one with a sum of money. This is the sum of money rewarded for each kill."

My lips twist into a frown. "Do you have a copy?"

He shoves a folded piece of paper into my hands. "Here."

It seems to be printed from a computer. I look down the list.

SEAN WALCOTT 250
DAVID WALCOTT 250
MICHAEL WALCOTT 250
CHRISTINA WALCOTT 250
LYDIA MARTIN 20
SCOTT MCCALL 25
DEMARCO MONTANA 250
DEREK HALE 15
CARRIE HUDSON 500
KAYLEN BETTCHER 250
KIRA YUKIMURA 6
ELIAS TOWN 250

I recognise one name and one name only: Sean Walcott. There's another sheet behind it and I flick the page.

KATE ARGENT 12
NOSHIKO YUKIMURA 5
JOANNE MCLAUGHLIN 1
STEVE GRACE 1
NOAH TERRELL 5
TOM HILL 1
BRETT TALBOT 1

And then my eyes go wide as I look down at the sheet. Not because of Brett's name, but because of the one after it.

LENORE HARRINGTON 3

"How did they know?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at Brett.

"Don't ask me," he says. "Don't ask me how they know any of this."

"And why am I worth three dollars?" I question.

"Three million dollars," he corrects me.

"Okay, okay," I say. "Makes more sense now. I was totally going to pull a Julius Caesar and request a higher price. But aren't I technically already dead? Doesn't that mean I get the three million dollars?"

Brett pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "There are assassins after us and you're worried about how you can get the money for yourself?"

"Come on, Brett," I say, pouting. "Take one for the team. Wesley and I would really appreciate you donating your life for two matching Lamborghinis." He widens his eyes. "Relax, Brett," I say quickly. "Even if I do sometimes feel like killing you, I'm not going to. I think I'll miss your pretty face too much."

He opens his mouth to speak but my phone ringing cuts him off. I dig it out of my pocket and answer without checking who it is. "Hello?"

"Lenore!" Wesley's voice sings out over the line. "Hello! You have no idea how glad I am that you picked up. Listen, I need a favour. Is Brett there?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Put it on speaker."

I hesitantly put it on speaker and mouth Wesley's name to Brett. He nods understandingly.

"Can Brett hear me?" Wesley chimes.

"Yep," Brett confirms. "How you doing, Wesley?"

"I'm great, thanks for asking, Brett," Wesley says. Wesley does sound great, actually. More than great. Jubilant. "Anyway, you wouldn't believe what just happened to me. I just got myself a date with one of the hottest guys I've ever seen at the bowling alley tomorrow night."

I sigh. "And why do you feel the need to remind me of my singleness?" I ask.

"I need you to be my wingman," he says. "You know, tell me what to do and what not to do."

"Wingwoman," I correct. "And I'd love to, Wesley. But I don't enjoy being the third wheel on things like this. Just be yourself and if he likes you, he likes you."