Conspire

Part Three

The aesthetic above is for Ariel. 

°oOo°

A pang of fear shot through me at his words. There's a reason why no one knows who I really am. Closely following the fear, though, is doubt.

I don't recognize this man at all, yet here he is claiming to know all about me. Surely, this is some sort of scam.

With a smirk, I tilt my head smugly. I'm a professional con artist. Watching this scheme play out will be fun.

"Oh?" I reply calmly. "Then tell me, what is my real name?"

"Adrianna Contreras," He answers quickly.

I almost sigh with disappointment. I was beginning to look forward to this.

"Oh? Are you sure?"

"Positive," He says, but his eyes give away his uncertainty.

Perhaps, I was wrong. Maybe he really doesn't understand what I am.

And maybe it's because I'm so bored. Maybe it's because I'm lonely. Regardless of the reasoning, I decide to do something new.

I decide to help someone else.

"What's your name?" I ask him, standing up.

"Warrick," He says warily, intentionally leaving out his last name. Smart.

"Well, come on, Warrick," I tell him. "Follow me if you want the truth."

°oOo°

The walk to the bustling market takes longer than normal. Warrick was unable to squeeze through the tight alley that I use as a shortcut so I had to take him the long way.

I comb my fingers through the short black wig to push the hair from my eyes. Looking over at Warrick, I see that he is flushed, sweating in the heat. I glance down at my dark outfit and leather jacket and realize there is no way Warrick lives here. Everyone who grows up here is well used to the heat.

"Where are you from?" I ask curiously.

"A small town, far from here," Is his vague and untrusting response.

"How long have you been in town?"

"Not long. You?"

"Some time."

We're both answering with as little information as possible. I have the feeling he is as untrusting as I am, but it could also have something to do with the fact that he seems to despise me.

"Here we are," I announce flatly. Quickly, I scan the market and see that it is even busier than normal. Perfect. "Follow me," I whisper before darting into the killing crowd.

I move through the busiest areas, my hands darting out to wrists, purses, pockets, and wallets. By the time we reach the other side of the market, I have plenty of items to sell to the small pawn shop.

"You're a pickpocket?" Warrick says, his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"We all have our guilty pleasures."

I flash him a half smile and enter the pawn shop, Warrick still trailing behind me cautiously.

The man at the counter grinned when he saw me, but it was a fake smile. His golden tooth gleamed and his black hair was greased back.

"Got anything good for me, sugar?" He asked. I held back a snarl. He knew I hated it when he called me that. But, then again, I might just hate him.