Number Seven was sitting by the open window, looking out at the quiet world beyond the confines of her hospital room.
Unnoticed, Number Two observed his prisoner from the doorway.
She was a shadow of the girl who had arrogantly challenged him that first day. To see her now one would not be inclined to think her dangerous. He remembered with anger the fear he had felt of her. She had come within a hair's breath of taking his life.
Three days of rest and regular meals had left her somewhat restored. She wore new cloths and her hair hung in soft waves at her shoulders. The gauntness was gone from her face and along with it the harshness, leaving her again youthful. But it was a youth worn thin, like a ragged veil covering a bitter and dying spirit. It was only the dim hope offered her by Number Six that kept her from the madness of despair.
He wondered for how long Six would toy with her. Or he with the two of them. His patience for the game waned dangerously.
He said loudly into the stillness of the room. "Wonderful to see you up and about, Number Seven,"
The girl came to her feet in a startled rush. For a moment it seemed she might leap from the window to escape him. She would not cheat him so easily.
"It's a long way down," he cautioned.
Reluctantly she turned to face him, her eyes downcast. There was no challenge now. That vengeful spirit seemed quelled. But he shouldn't be too certain.
"I'm told you are fit enough to leave the hospital." His face was a smiling mask behind which dark thoughts moved restlessly.
He asked. "You do want to go home, don't you?"
"You will never allow it." the voice quavered wonderfully.
"The Village is your home."
The girl only gave him the corner of a furtive eye, filled with as much trust as a cornered animal.
"You've had a difficult time of it." He said. "But if you cooperate The Village can be a very nice place."
Her body tightened. She might still possess enough spirit to resist and in doing so grant him permission.
She said finally in a weak voice. "You will destroy me."
"Now my dear," he scolded with tender affection, "what we do here has to be done."
His would be assassin quailed before him. Submissive. Refusing to give him cause.
"You were offered friendship and you answered with violence." he went on. "The Village must protect itself."
He moved closer. Close enough to touch her. She held her place, drawing into herself, like a snail into its shell. In this moment she would scarce resist him if he took hold of her and tossed her from the window himself. Yet he repressed the urge.
"In time you will come to understand," He promised soothingly. "In time you will come to love The Village."
He seemed to tower over her and she to shrink into the very floor. She had been so ready to end his life and so very capable. The insult burned like an open wound. She made a fool of him. He was now an object of mockery in the eyes of his masters. They only continued to suffer his existence as an amusement. To see what he might do with this humiliation. The dark impulse would not be denied.
And yet his voice was kind when he spoke. "The doctors inform me that you've been very cooperative. Everyone is quite pleased with your progress."
With great tenderness he laid a hand on her shoulder. To his pleasure she shrank under his touch.
He exulted in her quiet terror as his fingers closed round her in a gentle trap. ""You needn't be afraid. We can be friends."
Only a faint shake of the head answered him. He felt a sudden rush of anger at this tacit rejection of his generous offer. It was freeing. He eyed the window. It yawned open hungrily.
"What happens to you now depends entirely on your willingness to accept what has been offered," he warned gently. "Do not refuse it."
This time there was no response. For a moment they hung in a dreadful silence, the afternoon sun streaming through the window cast them in a harsh light. He felt cold in it. The girl had turned to ice as well. Frozen like a rabbit before the jaws of a wolf. Of its own accord his hand began to slide up her shoulder towards that slender neck. How easily he could be certain she never threaten him again. The savageness of the thought elated him.
"Your crimes are most egregious," His fingers slipped under the soft hair and brushed the smooth flesh of her neck. "The penalty for such transgressions" He said. "Is death." He liked the taste of the word.
He could feel her heartbeat, pulsing through his finger tips and he found with surprise his hand already about her throat. The wild pounding of her heart thrilled through him. He tightened his grip ever so slightly. The girl's eyes met his and he saw the instinct to survive still burned within them. She would fight for her life. She might well know some nasty tricks but he welcomed the struggle. As her hands reached defensively for his wrist he felt powerful.
Suddenly the scrap of a shoe pricked his ear. He spun savagely. A nurse pushed an old man in a wheelchair past the still open door. She took no notice of him.
He turned back to the girl in his grasp. But the spell had broken. The blood lust faded as his rational mind settled back into its proper role. Once again he became obedient to reason. Number Seven had not yet fulfilled her purpose. His hand retreated to rest again on her shoulder. A fine tremor started beneath it. She was shaking.
"Consider yourself fortunate that hand of justice has been stayed. But it cannot be indefinably." He said coldly. "A price must be paid. However in exchange for your cooperation an exception may be made."
To his pleasure the girl looked up, hope glimmered faintly like a dying ember found amid the ash. It was a fragile thing but if nurtured carefully it could be turned into valuable leverage. She only need make the first concession.
"We require your help in a matter of some delicacy."
She turned her head away. A subtle act of rebellion. The fingers that held her grew unkind, digging into flesh and bone. Reflexively she flinched but her face remained stubbornly averted.
"Number Six has developed a devotion to you." He explained patiently. 'This presents us with a rare opportunity."
He took hold of her chin and tipped her face up until her eyes met his. It was as if he were peering into an empty room.
His voice became soft again but the smile that twisted his lip was cruel. "Make a deal with me."