765 Hippocampus Rush

Rhea led him outside, following around the building till they were at the tiny garden behind the orphanage. Here it is exceedingly difficult to be eavesdropped on without being caught, the garden is fenced off and no windows are perfectly aligned their way.

There are only two ways to get to the garden, and it was either taking their current path or going through the back door of the orphanage. He wonders for a split second why she went through these lengths. Then he realizes one key fact. She didn't want him to see any more of the orphanage's interior layout.

She might be smarter than earlier perceived.

They reach the farthest side of the fence line, checking her surroundings once before spouting.

"What reason...does a thief of the waves have for visiting an orphanage?" Rhea crosses those thin arms over her banded chest, facing Connor with all the animosity she could pool in those burning silver irises. It's obvious she didn't like him, it tripled overnight, probably because he got in-between her and Ranko.

"You're just as much of a thief as I, maybe even better with the stunt you pulled last night." Connor challenges her front, seeing her fleeting wince under his unwavering gaze.

"What do you mean...?" Rhea forces this out, playing the ignorant facade horribly. She's terrible at lying.

"The Glittering Stampede. A few Death Twisters seemed sure of your involvement." Connor had all the evidence right in his mental chest, he could delve deeper, but by her reaction alone it was clear that he didn't need to.

Her face changes, from the look of pure contempt to a sudden anxious shudder. Her attention constantly shifts to the back door or the path they took to get their privacy. Worry etching every curve of her face, her shoulders slack. "That cannot..."

She fell silent, probably mulling over what he had just said. There is enough intelligence in her cranium to understand that the orphanage is in danger. Her next words sounds like they are picked carefully as well as trying to shove down the shakiness of her tone. The suspicion is back with a vengeance. "Why tell me this?"

"I need your help getting information from the Death Twisters." Connor flatly states, relaxing his features. She didn't look ready to smite him anymore. For now.

"...how?" Rhea pries, even though they differ in height and physical prowess she still isn’t afraid of him. It intrigues Connor.

"Now that they’re sniffing for you, our options are down to one. You will be my gate pass in. I will be 'offering' your head for the information."

That did not entice the female, she gapes at him for even suggesting it. The utter outrage is clear as day in her posture, "You forgot sea thief...I can vanish, and the orphanage will be safe with me gone."

"It's too late for that now. You and Ranko made it clear to the gang that the orphanage is your refuge. If not, it still won't resolve the issues of them recruiting the children."

Rhea opens her pretty mouth then clamps it shut. They aren’t as careful as originally thought based on how she had no comeback. Instead, her crossed arms relax beside her, diminishing the original lack of tolerance. She regards him differently; the stare didn't feel like it will burn holes in him. This time he is the shocked one seeing her compliance.

"Then...what do you suggest, Mister Connor?"

Finally.

"Play along and, in my own way, I will make sure that the gang won't harm the orphans."

Rhea starts to pace in place, walking in a line. She was fighting whatever anxious instinct to run or fight. Reminds him of the caged tigrous that some disgustingly rich person might own in their abode, creatures clearly only meant in the wild by the way they restlessly paced the border and focus their attention on whoever walked by.

Those eyes, wild and unbridled, watch him waiting for him to make a terrible mistake. His growing interest in her had made him want to test her and fall into that mental cage.

What am I-? Connor felt unsettled by his growing interest, though it never surfaces from the depths of his core. He'd need to revisit it when he gathers enough time. Right now, he faces this pacing woman with an unwavering stance.

This woman didn't follow any of her own stereotypes, she wasn't meek from her past traumas, and she didn't share a lot of the physical traits of a Krax. Small, when usually her kind were taller to take on tree climbing. Very thin when Krax are usually lean, and eyes as silver as the twin moons that visit them every night.

The curls on her head sways with the wind, sunlight brightening the red in them.

She couldn't remain inconspicuous walking on her own with hair and eyes that stood out against the warm brown of her skin. Begs the question of how she has been free from enslavement.

He would be tempted to ask, but that wasn't important. The mission was important.

"How...am I supposed to trust you, mister?" Rhea asks the final question that sat on her pursed lips during her pacing. She must have been trying to find the right way to ask it without giving offense, giving away the tenseness in the air.

"Trust isn't needed. I just need your compliance. Your prank last night won't scare them away. But if you're satisfied, then my recommendation is to move the orphanage. You owe those children at least that." Connor is really starting to get impatient; his words lost the warmth the more he had to endure being inconvenienced. A terrible trait that makes his past partnerships brittle. He thought their partnership was no different, she'd moved on without looking back, just as he would. Taking her silence as either compliance or not, he turns his back on her and start back to the main road. Even if she didn’t help him, he will find some other way.

Though imagining a world void of her starts to feel not right. Especially when he had more questions than answers at the end of their conversation. There weren't many who could instill this much intrigue.

Her presence follows him; she did the bravest thing that any sane person would avoid doing to a man armed to the teeth and with a personality as sharp as the sword on his hip. Her hand grabs the excess of his sleeve, stopping his stride.

This woman knows no personal space. He whips his face her way, jaw tense with the rest of him. The insane urge to correct her primes his muscles in his shoulders and neck.

Nothing came out of him, not when she peers up at him with her nervous shifting.

She's not the brightest draw on a deck, maybe not the best tactician. But those silver eyes that pooled with contempt earlier changes, they are very determined. Determined flash balls of fire.

"Mister Connor. I will do what I must to protect them."

"Hmph." The shock would have stilled him if not for the first annoyance. He motions with his head for her to follow. He wouldn't reply much from here on out. After all, she just needed to follow his lead. Then they can end this strange affair.