Wanted Dead

5

       Sol sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard, knife and sharpening stone in hand. The bedroom was dimly lit, nothing but two lamps on either side. It didn't take long for the bedroom door to open and the little blonde to step through in her nightgown. He had written her a letter in the library and slipped it underneath her door, praying that Autumn wouldn't see it. Even if the little one did, she wouldn't say anything about it. That he could guarantee.

"How...polite," Sol said dryly when she launched herself up and onto his bed. Lea ignored his comment and focused her eyes on the sharpening of his knife.

"I presume you want to take me up on my offer? A few of my secrets for a few of yours," She finally said.

"After a few questions, perhaps," Sol replied. His hands never once broke their continuous rhythm of action and every slice of the knife against the stone made Lea shift. She was uncomfortable, he could tell.

"A few of yours for a few of mine," She adjusted herself a little more comfortably on the bed.

"Fair. Why aren't you more afraid? I mean, any normal girl would be crying at their father's feet by now about the murderous man 30 feet from their bedroom," Sol eyed her.

In the soft glow of the lamp light, Lea's gold hair was shimmering all the way down to her waist. Her entranced curiosity was etched all across her heart shaped face and the modest night gown she wore made her seem thinner and taller, somewhat ghostly. A small resemblance to her father, Sol mused. She sat with her legs to the side, tucked close to her body, one hand behind her supporting her weight. Though she looked casual, Sol could sense her nerves just itching to move, to learn, to have some great potential.

"I suppose. But I'm not a normal girl. Like I said before, you'd be stupid to kill me or my family. You're too injured to do much right now, let alone escape. Charles checks up on my sister too often for you to get away with murdering us."

Lea was right, of course. But Sol wouldn't admit that truthfully. He wanted to keep some possibility, some factor of intimidation on the table.

"If it makes you feel safer to believe that, then yes."

Lea stayed quiet for a moment,"How many people have you killed."

Sol didn't really want to answer that question. He knew of course. Had counted every single one of his kills. But Lea was still a child, a young lady. The nearly forgotten humane part of him didn't want her thinking about the answer.

"two hundred forty-seven."

"You've assassinated two hundred forty seven people?" Lea was disbelieving.

"No. I've assassinated one hundred seventeen. The rest just got in my way."

Lea's mouth dropped open before she quickly closed it.

"Why haven't you told your father or River or even Charles that I've been contracted to kill him?" That was the real question Sol was curious about. Something about Lea's casual attitude towards him and the reason for his being there was odd, suspicious.

"Excellent question, I was wondering when you'd get to that. I want to strike another deal," Lea grinned.

"You bargain too much. It's cost many foolish men their lives."

"I'm not a man and most importantly, I'm not a fool. Hear me out. I think before I act, I calculate every move. I confronted you about your real identity while also assuring you I wouldn't tell anyone. I made a bargain about exchanging secrets and you refused, yet here you are, taking me up on that bargain just as I planned. You've played right into my hands, gypsy boy," Lea shrugged, a smug look on her face.