He looked down at her, not quite with shock on his face. She had literally disappeared and re-appeared fifteen feet away. His mind reeled at the entire scenario before him. His mind was just starting to understand that had she just wanted him dead, she could have done it. Her grip was firm but not threatening. It was just enough that he did not immediately pull away. His shivered as though he were in the cold and he was thankful he was still wearing his gloves. He had no desire for her to touch his bare skin, at this point.
She looked up at him with unshed tears and her breathing was erratic. She could tell by the look on his face that she had truly shaken him. This had been her intent but she had not wanted to frighten him quite this badly. She needed his help, after all. She reached up to touch his face and he leaned away from her hand. He was starting to recover from the shock of what had just happened and she wanted to capitalize on her momentary advantage. Catching him off guard had been incredibly difficult because he, unlike most others, was very wary of her. She smiled gently, "My name is Genifer Dumas. The family you saved was mine and were it not for you, I am sure our fate would have been worse than death. Now, though, Herra has what she wants except for me. I beg of you, please, help me save my family." With that statement she let go of his hand and stepped back. She moved slowly to the bed and sat down. She did not know what else to do except wait.
After a few moments, he found his thoughts and organized them. "I struggle to trust people." His voice was rich and deep. For her, it was like have a box of dark chocolate melted warm and run over her like a comfortable blanket. She was instantly ready to relax and let him take charge. Odd for her, as she was usually the leader. "In my line of work, it is rare that I wind up returning a commission and not finishing a job. However, I live by certain standards. I do not kill women or children. I will only harm when my hand is forced. If I am hired to do a job such as the one I turned away from, it is because no one else will do it. I am not a fan of violence but I will use it to get the job done when I must. I know it is a cold world out there and this is how I make my living." As he spoke, it seemed as though his entire body rippled. His clothes hiding his form and his cloak's hood would normally hide his face. His square jaw was set in a determined fashion. For an instant, she thought she had lost him.
"What am I to do when a man of honour will not help me. I have already offered to pay any price I must to obtain your help. This is my family I am trying to save." She sat straighter and her air became more dignified. "I am a woman of no small means but I cannot take on The Black. I haven't the strength, the resources, nor do I have the man power. But you, if you defied them, then you must have something that gives you an edge." She looked at him doggedly and marked his reaction to her words well. He did not preen or show pride at her statement. He simply just stood there and watched her.
"You think that because you saw me turn a job down and walk away from this woman that I have something you do not?" His tone cold and his words came out in a biting fashion. He went rigid and his fist pounded in to the wall as he spoke. "Just because i have a code of conduct that I follow does not mean I have something I do not. I simply refuse to do the thing I was hired to do. As a result, I have had assassins sent after me. This is not the first time I've done this and it shall not be the last. So bearing that in mind, before I leave you bound and gagged while I escape; answer me, what is it that makes you think I would help you or your family? I did what was right and not because I was being nice. It solved my employers problem but since I was doing it in a way she did not want done, it was only fair to return her money." His voice, now cold and calculated, had an edge of disgust and anger to it that she now heard with fear. He leaned casually against the wall of the room and watched her as a cat might watch a mouse.
She sat, fear coursing through her veins, and considered his words. She was not sure she could provide an answer good enough to grab his attention. She wasn't sure she deserved his help. In truth, she had only sought him out because she knew he had helped her family once before and thought he might do so again. She tried to keep downcast from her face and she let her eyes slide to the floor. "I thought you had done it out of kindness. I saw the way you helped grandmother from the room. I have never seen such a gentle look or manner before. You were so kind and fast moving. Your patience was beyond compare. I thought this meant we had found our savior at last." A tear, unbidden, slid down her cheek.
"My name," He spoke slowly and with an undertone of danger to his voice, "is Miles Davis. I am at your service."