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Inej
He hadn’t come back yet.
With a long sigh, Inej turned on her cot for the hundredth time that night, letting her eyes wonder to the small window of her tiny bedroom. Saints. Apart from the wind whistling outside, the silence that enveloped the Slat was excruciating. And Inej kept expecting to hear slow steps and the end of a cane thumping on the broken wooden staircase – but no sound came to calm her heart, to ease the tension in her body, to push away that nagging feeling in her gut.
Something must be wrong.
She closed her eyes. Inej had made a vow to herself long ago – one she’d already broken time and time again. Night after night. She’d sworn she’d stop keeping checking up on him. She’d sworn she’d stop staying up just to see if he got home alright. She’d sworn she’d stop worrying whether or not he was lying dead on a ditch somewhere.
She had to stop this.
Kaz Brekker was not her responsibility. Kaz Brekker was not hers to worry about.
And yet her body refrained to relax and her brain kept pulling her awake whenever she was close to falling asleep. Just until he gets home, she’d thought hours before, Then I’ll sleep.
She hadn’t slept.
Damn him to hell.
She sat up, resting her face in her hands and shaking her head at own stupidity, her own unwillingness to let him go. Inej would’ve been glad to follow her own advice. In fact, she should have. And yet Kaz still managed to crawl his way up her chest and tug on her heartstrings. Somehow, he’d made himself a home inside her, and Inej had found it difficult to kick him out.
There were times when she thought she might’ve come to love him.
It terrified her.
And then there were other times when she thought he might’ve come to love her, too.
That – terrified her even more.
It was the way he looked at her whenever he thought she wasn’t paying attention – that longing in his eyes; the nights they’d spent side by side, eating dinner sat on the windowsill or walking on rooftops with the city below them. It was the sarcastic remarks, the gentle teasing-
It was the rare occasions in which he smiled at her. Inej wanted nothing more than to commit that perfect picture of his smile to memory – the light in his eyes that was rarely present, the dimple on his right cheek, the shake of his head, the occasional roll of his eyes. It was a whole new Kaz Brekker that only Inej had gotten to witness.
It was the unexpected touches that were non-existent before – a caress of his knuckles against hers whenever he wanted to speak to her alone, a feather-like touch to her elbow whenever he wanted her to pay attention to something, a brief brush of his shoulder, a tap of his fingers at her waist-
Touches she never deemed possible. Touches she never thought she craved. But then she found herself at night dreaming about his lips tracing her skin, and fingers drumming on her hipbones – then she’d wake up cold and alone with her skin tingling.
There were times she thought she might love him.
Then there were times she thought he didn’t actually care. Maybe she’d imagined the glances, the smiles. Maybe she’d dreamt of it all.
Inej sank into her sheets with her eyes to the dark tilted ceiling. She turned her face to the door, imagining him walking inside, suit intact, looking safe and sound. She imagined him sinking to his knees at her side and touching her hair with his bare hands, soothing her until she fell asleep.
She imagined that for a long time – until Inej could no longer bear it.
Last time, she vowed. But as she thought of the words, she knew right away they were a lie.
And yet she got dressed, she grabbed her knives and she braided her hair. She didn’t even know where to look for him, where to begin. But there were a million possibilities going through her mind and they wouldn’t let her sleep, they wouldn’t calm her heartbeat. She’d just go to have a look, and she’d come back in no time. No time at all.
Inej prayed she’d find him alright. Because that sinking feeling in her gut was tugging at her more urgently by the second, and she knew better than to ignore her senses when they told her something was wrong.
Inej put her hood up and she walked out of the Slat.
***
Kaz
It had started snowing.
The harbour wasn’t yet painted white – although it would be in the morning. But Kaz didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel that bite of the wind as it slapped the back of his neck. He felt nothing.
He didn’t feel the burn of the whiskey as it made its way down his throat. Maybe because he’d been sipping it for a while now, or because he’d already known things that tasted much worse in his life. And yet he downed another mouthful, letting it swim in his mouth for a bit before he swallowed. He clenched his jaw, head falling forward. Kaz was already feeling as if he might tip backward even though he was leaning against a firm brick wall from one of the buildings down at the docks overlooking the harbour.
Good, he thought. At least he was getting what he paid good money for.
Kind of.
He still wasn’t drunk enough to forget.
With a long sigh, Kaz leaned his head against the wall, eyes closing. As he felt the snowflakes resting on his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, Kaz thought that maybe that’s what it would feel like to have her lips on his skin, trailing paths across his face. So soft, feather-like, only warmer. And her hands – they were always so, so warm – would touch his chest, gently holding on to the buttons of his shirt. When he’d touch her waist to press her closer to his chest, she’d smile against his jawline, and then her teeth would be scraping along the spot where his neck met his shoulder, her tongue dragging over his skin-
He took a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on that endless dark ocean, angry and ashamed. Angry for the fact that all he wanted to do was take her face in between his hands and taste her lips, trace his tongue along her jaw and feel her hands gripping his shirt and pulling him closer to her. He wanted her to tell him she wanted him, like he wanted her, despite everything that he’d done, despite everything he’d said, despite…despite who he was. And ashamed because he’d let himself feel it all, he’d allowed himself to love her. To want her.
He wanted her. Saints, he loved her.
He’d known it, too. For a very, very long time. But she’d deserved better than him. She still did. She would always deserve better than him. And Kaz couldn’t – wouldn’t – take that away from her: a chance to open up her heart to someone better. Someone that was worthy of her – if such a person even existed.
Kaz frowned at his shoes. He looked at the bottle in his hand, half-full, and poured the liquid onto the floor, watching it spread over the wet pavement. His fingers let go of the glass, and the shattering sound it made as it fell to the floor pleased him. Kaz felt his fingers itch to break something else.
He pushed himself off the wall, turning to walk away, when something behind him caught his attention. He paused, turned, and the next thing he knew his body was being yanked back onto the wall. When his head banged against the bricks, everything went momentarily black.
***
Inej
Good Saints, Kaz, where are you?
Inej jumped from roof to roof, her steps as silent as a cat’s, but her heart as loud as a thunder clap. She had looked everywhere – there was no sign of him at the Barrel. There was real panic inside her now, and Inej struggled to keep her focus and stop her hands from shaking as she made her way down a building in ruins. She gripped Sankt Petyr hard in her right hand, keeping the blade carefully hidden under her sleeve.
Moving through deserted streets and dark alleys, Inej kept her hood up, but her gaze covered the entire perimeter.
Take me to him, she begged her Saints. Please lead me to him.
Kaz, please be alright. Please be safe.
There was somewhere she still hadn’t looked.
Inej reached for a pipe in one of the docks and climbed it skilfully, with an easy grace. She’d always gotten a better view on rooftops, and being high up in the air relaxed her muscles. She made herself breathe – she would find him.
For his sake, Inej thought, the bastard better be dead. Because if he wasn’t she was going to kill him herself for making her this worried.
She jumped from rooftop to rooftop, her eyes cast downward and in every direction. Then Inej prepared herself for another jump, readying her footing, when she caught a glimpse of something shiny. Her steps were silent as she landed in another rooftop. She crawled to the edge, and stood there in the shadows.
Her blade almost fell out of her hand.
Kaz was being held by the arms against the wall by two men, and a third was making his way toward him in slow, almost mocking steps, a gun in his hand.
Inej heart was beating in her throat, ready to jump out.
He was bleeding. They had made him bleed.
Inej’s hands trembled as she pulled out Santka Alina, but she held on to both firmly, and she kept holding on as she descended.
***
Kaz
“They told me you were dangerous,” said the man with a cutting grin as he twirled the gun in his hand. “They never told me you were just a kid.”
“Surprise,” drawled Kaz, feeling the blood from his cut lip slide down his gritted teeth.
The man’s mouth curved into an uglier sort of smile.
Kaz tried to focus his gaze, but there were black spots forming in his vision and his legs felt weak and wobbly. His brain was trying to find ways to reach for the knife inside his jacket, to somehow get out of that grip – yet nothing came to mind. There was smoke clouding his judgment, and even a part of him felt ready to just take the bullet and let himself perish on the wet pavement.
Was it really worth the fight?
Was his life all the significant?
Kaz was not surprised to find that his last thoughts consisted of Inej. And he realized he was relieved – relieved that she was safe, sleeping off the day’s tiredness, tranquil on her bed. He only wished her good. He wished she’d get out of the Slat, he wished she’d get to see the world – even if he wasn’t the one showing it to her.
Kaz drooped his shoulders.
“Don’t you want to know who am I?”
The man – he was definitely Kerch-born, close to his thirties. He definitely knew him well. And he had definitely been following Kaz around for quite some time, watching him, waiting for the moment where he was at his weakest.
“You clearly haven’t killed me yet, which means you want something from me,” said Kaz, his voice dry, rough as stones. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood to offer favours.”
“Oh?”
“Guess you should just kill me, then.”
The man cocked his head to the side and looked at him for a few moments, pondering. Wondering whether or not he should reveal his cards right way, or keep playing that game of cat and mouse.
“You’re right,” he said, finally. “I do want something from you.”
The grip in his arms tightened, and Kaz was suddenly feeling breathless, his composure tumbling like a tower of bricks. There was a rip on his shirtsleeve, and the man’s hand was digging his nails on Kaz’s skin. The nausea came to him like a punch in the gut, and Kaz kept trying to maintain his face free of feeling – a perfect stone, a block of ice – but there, just a few feet away, there was the water from the canal, and dead bodies passed one by one, their lips blue, their faces practically unrecognizable.
Kaz swallowed, blinking to keep his grip somewhat tight on the world.
I do want something from you.
These men were not hired to kill him – now that much was clear. That man was there on his own accord, and he had his own business to settle.
Kaz thought of ways to divert his attention, to keep him talking, give himself time to think-
But then the man said, “I’m looking for someone.”
“You came to the wrong man.”
“No, no, I don’t think I have. You know her, Brekker.”
Her.
You know her, Brekker.
Kaz’s heart stopped dead in his chest.
He thought he wasn’t breathing. But he couldn’t bring himself to take a breath, to force his lungs to work, his body to respond.
And all his thoughts consisted of one face, one pair of eyes, one name.
The man paced again, smile widening. “When we met, she went by a different name, you see,” he said, coming to stand in front of Kaz. All he could taste was his own blood on his tongue, but he willed his features to remain disinterested, bored as the older man continued, “Nowadays she is known as The Wraith.”
One by one, every brick fell down.
The man leaned in, and he gritted out, “Give me Inej Ghafa.”
***
Inej
He wasn’t fighting.
Why wasn’t he fighting?
Kaz’s shoulders were hunched forward, his body held by two men, two and three times his size. There was nothing in his eyes – no determination, no will to escape. Kaz looked like a ripped rag doll.
What did they do to you?
Inej was blind with rage. But the sensible part of her told her to keep calm – remain hidden. There was a reason why the man hadn’t shot him yet, and she had to consider the fact that there were three of them and one of her. Even with her swiftness and good use of her knives, there was still a chance that Kaz could die before she made her first killing shot.
Be calm, Inej. Think.
She looked around, trying to find a vantage point. The shadows were her friends, and she was well concealed behind that building. She could see the man’s back to her, pacing around, as if he was having a chat with an old friend and not keeping a seventeen year old boy gripped to a wall, broken and bleeding. But they were still far away. Too far.
Inej would enjoy their deaths.
They would all be sorry for having ever crossed paths with Kaz. She would make them sorry. She would make them bleed.
Frail snowflakes fell on her eyelashes as she looked around, her gaze travelling through the darkness to see if there was anything she could use as a distraction. Her heart was frantic, panicked, as she knelt down and chose two and three and then four rocks good enough to throw. She wiped at her forehead. She looked around once more, found her spot. And then she took a deep breath and threw the first stone in the opposite direction from which she was planning to run to.
It fell on the wet pavement several feet away from her, and Inej took advantage of the sound it made to quickly run to another building. The men’s heads turned, and the man holding the gun raised it with a slight jump.
He was confronted only with darkness.
“Who’s there?!”
She almost smiled to herself.
And she would’ve – if Inej hadn’t recognized that voice.
Her knees wobbled.
She looked straight ahead, lips drawn together.
Don’t get distracted.
It was because of her. They had attacked Kaz because-
Inej threw the second stone, far away from where she was standing. She squatted down, peeping over the corner of the building.
Too far. Still too far.
“…maybe we should go see.”
“No. Keep holding him.”
She heard the mumbles, the steps that were nowhere close to finding her. Inej bit the inside of her cheek and moving to the other corner of the building, she looked over to see her new vantage point. She’d have to be quick, and she’d have to be silent, and she’d have to be invisible.
She would need to become a phantom not to be seen.
“Show yourself!”
Her hands trembled again at that voice, but Inej knew what she had to do. And she wouldn’t go back. She would not leave him.
One, two, three seconds passed, and Inej positioned herself to run. She prayed. She prayed for Kaz’s life that was currently on her hands. She prayed she would get to him in time, and she prayed the man would be stupid enough not to turn his gun to Kaz.
Four seconds passed, and Inej threw both rocks as hard as she could – and she ran. She ran as she felt the men’s attention drift to where the sound came from. She ran out in the open, in full view, as the man turned his back on her and looked to her right. The other two followed suit.
She had been lucky.
She had been so lucky not to have the men’s heads turn towards her, for their idiocy, for having two spare seconds to hide in the shadows of the closest building to them, without any of them noticing.
Except Kaz.
She had looked – briefly – and she’d seen his eyes turn in her direction for a fraction of a second. He’d seen her quickly turn on the building, as silent as ever, and his face had showed nothing.
The two men holding Kaz weren’t holding any guns – but there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t have them hiding inside their jackets. Could she do it in time? Would they be slow reaching for them when she attacked?
She could only hope so.
The man laughed loudly, confidence in every note. His gun was pointed at the brick walls, his vision carefully scanning for any signs of movement.
Not carefully enough.
“We have someone out here who wants to play, gentle-”
But he wasn’t able to finish that sentence.
Because Kaz – in a movement so quick she hadn’t been able to capture it – held on to both of the men’s arms and twisted them hard, taking advantage of the third man’s back being to him, of their foolish distraction. Yelps of pain sounded and, as quick as Kaz had been, Inej threw the first knife, just in time for the man to turn to his men.
And Sankt Petyr went right through his throat.
***
Kaz
The effort it took to twist his fingers free and wrap them around each of the man’s arms was massive. But Kaz’s heart was beating with a new kind of energy, and his body was singing from all the adrenaline running through his veins. Because if not for him – for her. Kaz had to help her.
Saints only knew how she’d found him. Why she’d come.
But he didn’t care. When he caught a glimpse of the end of a braid sweeping behind the building on his left, a million ways to escape came to him. So Kaz had used every little bit of strength he had – and it had been enough to make some damage. The next thing he knew, the man holding the gun was falling to the ground with a thump, gagging in his own blood, a knife stuck to the side of his neck.
It was a miracle he hadn’t turned around sooner, or Kaz would’ve found himself with a bullet inside him.
He saw a second knife flying through, so close to his head – Kaz heard it meeting its target. The man on his right held on to his stomach, a scream falling from his lips. And Kaz – idiot, stupid Kaz – took one second to look over at Inej, striding into view, two knives on each hand and teeth clenched.
The hair on his neck rose.
But then, he saw a movement from the corner of his eye, and Kaz only had time to take a quick step back – yet the last remaining man’s knife ran along his chest, right under his collarbone. He barely felt the pain – both on his chest and his wrist, as his fists collided with the man’s gut.
Before the man could regain his composure, Inej jumped on his back, and slit his throat open.
He fell to the ground as Kaz touched his blood-covered shirt, and then she was in front of him.
Her eyes were wide and wild.
Kaz thought he never saw something more beautiful.
Inej’s eyes were stuck to the man who had spoken to him, and he caught the look in her eyes, the trembling of her hands. He recognized that look as well as he recognized his own fear. He wanted to take her hands and take her away from there and away from them and hold her, thank her, kiss her – he didn’t know.
Then her eyes were on him, and her lips were moving. And Inej was saying something to him, but his brain was refusing to comprehend, it was refusing to pay attention. His eyes refused to see anything other than black spots.
“Kaz.”
His name was a distant calling.
He didn’t know if he’d leaned against the wall or against her. But then the pain in his chest was unbearable, and his head was throbbing, and all he wanted to do was lie down on the ground and become nothing.
“Kaz.”
Inej was crying into his ear. Her arms were around his torso and he felt nothing dragging him down into the cold waters. There wasn’t any nausea, there wasn’t any repulse, there was only her warmth against his coldness, and her voice in his ear, her arms supporting his weight.
“Stay with me now,” she begged. Her hands were on his cheeks. Kaz forced himself to pay attention, to focus, but his body wouldn’t obey. “Kaz, please. Please let’s go home.”
And it was that desperate cry in his ear, that urgency in her touch, that made him regain his control of the world. Kaz blinked, and saw tears in her eyes and in her cheeks, and she was crying because of him, she’d killed because of him-
“Let’s go home, lean on me, come on. Stay with me. Are you awake?”
He nodded. Yes he was awake. He was walking. His arm was around her shoulders.
“Talk to me, talk to me, Kaz.”
His mouth was dry.
“I’m sorry.”
It was all he could say. It was all that came to mind as his gaze focused on the dark street ahead of them. He felt himself come down back to earth, and the ground was no longer tilting. He could hear her erratic breathing, her eyes on him as they walked.
“I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “Come on, we’re close.”
He knew they weren’t.
“Inej-”
“You’re bleeding, Kaz, I need to get you home-”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
And Kaz wasn’t exactly sure what he was sorry for. For putting her in danger, for being a wrecked, broken thing she had to carry home, for being a dead weight in her life, for the way her face had changed as she’d glanced at the man – like she had heard him, recognized him.
Kaz wanted to bear every pain in her life and rid Inej of everything that had made her hurt.
But his strength faltered, so he let himself be weak and wrecked and broken just for one night more, and he let Inej carry him home.
Inej
Inej sat him down on his bed and then proceeded to light both candles on his nightstand. The light was dim, but it was close enough for her to see the cut just above his right eyebrow, the blood now dry, making a trail down the side of his face, close to his split lip. More blood stained the spot right underneath his collarbone, the white shirt now stuck to his skin.
Kaz said nothing as she observed him. His eyes were downcast, and pieces of hair as dark as ink spilled over his forehead. His shoulders were hunched, his bare hands open on his lap, palms facing the ceiling. His jaw was clenched tight, as if he was forcing himself not to open his mouth, to resist the urge to speak.
He was the perfect picture of hopelessness.
She should’ve walked away, Inej knew that.
She should leave him to it.
But instead she stayed, and her hand reached for him. Kaz followed the movement, but didn’t stop her as Inej gently, so gently, brushed his hair away from his face. Her fingers never touched his skin.
She pulled her hand away. “Do you want me to take a look?” She asked, pointing with her chin at the wound on his chest, even though his eyes still weren’t on her.
Kaz opened his mouth and closed it a fraction of a second later. He seemed to be at war with himself, so Inej made the decision for him. She walked away.
And came back with a bowl of lukewarm water, pieces of wet cloth, several different tonics, and clean bandages.
Kaz looked up at her, finally. His eyes were telling her to drop the utensils on his desk and leave, but his mouth did not form the words, so she stayed. She stayed, and leaned in closer to him, her hand squeezing the excess water off a cloth and into the bowl.
“Look up,” she said.
Kaz obeyed, tilting his chin up to her, his mouth set in a firm line.
“May I?” Asked Inej, her hand stopping midway so as to give him time to process that she was about to touch him. Kaz only dipped his chin.
And Inej took his chin between two fingers and gently wiped the blood off his face.
His eyes were on her, but they were far, far away.
Her thoughts did not wonder. She stayed focused on his wounds, and she willed her mind to be a blank canvas.
She didn’t regret it. She felt no guilt – for killing them.
And it was both an unstartling and startling realization, the fact that she was more than willing to do it again if it meant he’d be safe from harm. Inej would do terrible things to keep him safe. The second that first knife had struck, she’d made her peace with it. She wanted to draw blood. She wanted their last breath. And there was no part of her that felt sorry for the men she left dying in the snow. For the man who had taken her, taken a part of herself she’d wanted to keep for longer. A part of her she did not deserve to lose.
And as quick as a finger snap, her mind was a painting covered in black with streaks of scarlet.
Then Kaz’s hand was wrapped around her wrist. Pulling it away from his face, ever so gently. Strangely warm. He pulled her hand away as if he’d lead it to his mouth and kiss it – the gesture was that tender – but he didn’t. Instead, he looked up into her eyes for the first time, and she saw it all there.
He was giving her a chance to speak, in case she wanted to. She could see the patience in his eyes, the guilt enveloping those two dark full moons.
But Inej released her hand and turned away, rinsing the bloody cloth in the bowl. Ribbons of red drifted in the water. She had to turn her eyes away as she prepared a bandage for his eyebrow.
“Inej-”
She turned to him, pressing the fabric into his forehead, and delicately pressing a bit of tape over it.
He’d apologized to her – repeatedly. As if it was the only words he could form. And Inej had been to stunned, so utterly shocked, that she’d just kept walking in silence. She’d never thought she’d hear those words from his lips, and yet-
And yet as he stared at her, even now, Inej saw everything he wanted to say in his eyes. She saw the vulnerability he never showed with anybody else, she saw the sadness, the anger, the-
Or it could be all in her head.
“Why did you come, Inej?”
How did you find me? – was the question in between the lines.
She didn’t know how to respond at first – to that low tone, those broken syllables. So she told the truth, “I had a hunch. And I got lucky.”
He had gotten lucky.
She didn’t tell him she’d been looking for him for over an hour. That the panic had consumed her in such a way that it had made her lose track of time, and her own sense of self-preservation. She’d wondered in open streets, dark streets, dangerous streets. Knives drawn, fangs and claws ready to strike. A predator in the night, that’s what had become of her. She told him nothing.
And it’s like he knew, anyway. For he was grateful, and Inej could see that.
“Look up,” she repeated. And he did. He wanted to say something else – call her an idiot, telling her she shouldn’t have put herself in danger for him.
But she already knew.
And she was angry, now. She’d felt desperate and fearful that night – now, looking at him, there was anger building up inside her, clawing at her to let it out, set it free.
Her voice was restrained when she said, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“I don’t need a lecture.”
She let the cloth fall carelessly to the water making drops fall off the blood and into his make-shift desk.
Her head snapped to him. But before she could get a word out, he lifted himself up, off the bed, and he walked toward her slowly, his cane forgotten on the side. He hadn’t even brought it with him when he first went out. Nor did he take his gloves.
He towered over her as he approached her.
“You can never put yourself in danger like that again.” His voice was weak, and yet the roughness was still there. His eyes were burning her. “The next time you walk away, Inej. You leave me. Do you understand me?”
Her hands gripped the desk, nails digging into the wood. She actually laughed, “The next time?”
“You know what I mean.”
Inej was tired. She was tired of this dance. Of wanting him, then hating him. Of feeling like he loved her, then feeling like she was only an advantage, another trick up his sleeve. She was so tired.
She shook her head, and the bitter smile was wiped off her features. Inej turned away, feeling too hot, feeling too much. She shrugged off her coat, laying it over his chair. That weight off her – it felt good. She wished she could drop other weights as easily.
“You know I would never walk away,” she murmured as she grabbed another clean cloth. Inej placed her hand at his hard chest and gently pushed him against the desk. “Take off your shirt.”
He eyed her, eyebrows furrowed, slightly swelled lips now free of blood setting into a firm line. He worked his jaw as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Inej felt like she should turn her eyes away for some reason, but she did not. She kept her eyes on his, like a predator seizing another. She said nothing as he shrugged off the bloodied fabric and dropped it to the floor.
She got closer, eyes trailing down his chest. They were silent, and she was comforted by it, by the gentle sound of his breathing, by the up and down motions of his chest. She was grateful for that too.
Inej looked once at his eyes before touching the cloth to his chest. Slowly, she wiped off the blood. It was nothing but a scratch – not too deep, but deep enough to scar.
She worked slowly, and found herself surprised to have his eyes intent on her, not closed, not somewhere else – on her. His breathing was normal, calm, even. And there was no part of him that seemed eager to pull away from her.
It was almost a perverse need – to want to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him, feel his arms around her waist, his embrace. A man almost bare in front of her – and her fingers were itching to touch him.
And she knew it was because it was Kaz. Kaz who, despite his many flaws, would never do anything to harm her. She knew him – really knew him. And that’s why it didn’t bother her. She knew his mind and she knew those eyes. She wanted to know his body, too.
Her cheeks burned.
She shook the thoughts from her head.
If it had been any other man, she would’ve been running. She would’ve fallen apart right then and there. But for Kaz, only Kaz, would make her feel this way again. Make her feel again.
His chest was clean. A long scratch along his marbled skin was all that was left.
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do ever again,” she said quietly, yet firmly, as she finished bandaging his wound. She tilted her chin up to look into his eyes.
And she was still surprised to find his already on hers.
“You should walk away,” he said just as quietly. “You should walk out of that door right now.”
A warning – a contradiction. Don’t walk away from me.
His eyes told no lies.
“Why ask me to leave you when you know I will not?” She asked.
They were close, so close.
Her chest was almost against his.
And Kaz wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t pulling away.
She was tangled in his cobwebs and schemes. She’d let herself walk into the trap. And yet-
It was the warmth of his body and the quiet rasp of his voice and his hands gripping the makeshift desk behind him so as not to grip her waist – that was what she wanted. She let herself get caught. And it was those eyes that kept her trapped.
She didn’t want to be rescued. She had no need for salvation.
He didn’t respond for a long time. And then, “I meant what I said. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for-“
“Don’t say it,” she pleaded. “I will not talk about it.”
Not now – but someday.
Kaz got the message.
And then he was silent. His bruised knuckles were ash white against the dark wood. He took a step forward though – and Inej followed it with her eyes. A step closer to her – so close, they were so close.
And invitation.
Slowly, so slowly, she wrapped her arms around him. There was a pause, a decisive moment where he’d either push her away or-
And Kaz’s arms pulled her against him.
***
Kaz
She smelled of the night outside. Of tranquillity and rooftops and stars. She smelled warm and comforting and it was such scent, one he recognized, that made him bury his face into her neck.
He felt no dizziness. Not with her, not anymore. And Kaz did not believe in spirits or saints or gods. But he recited every single one he knew in his mind, and he thanked them. He thanked them for her. He thanked them for the fact that she was safe and she was there with him and in his arms, her nose skimming his neck, her hand against his heart, and she was safe, and gods she was safe and she wouldn’t leave him. And he thanked them – he thanked them endlessly for his composure. For his hands were shaking, but Kaz felt like he could never let go. He never wanted to let go of her ever again. And one last time he thanked them all – for her. That she existed in that dark, tenebrous world. His lighthouse in the storm.
“Only you,” she murmured against his neck.
Kaz opened his eyes, his gaze tracing the hairline over her ear, the little hairs that curled around her face. He traced her neck with his eyes and thought he wanted to trace it with his lips. But he remembered. And he stopped himself.
“Only you,” she said again, “are allowed this close. I could not bear anyone else’s lips on my skin.”
The words made his legs tremble. If Kaz weren’t holding on to her waist, he’d have to support himself on the desk behind him.
Her breath tickled at the skin of his throat, and Kaz thought he’d died. Maybe he had been struck with a bullet and none of this was real. Maybe they weren’t touching. Because hearing her breathy voice, feeling her touch on his skin – it didn’t feel real. He had craved this for so long. He had craved her for too long.
The alcohol was gone from his system – but he was completely drunk off her. Her scent. Her voice. Her hands.
And then – just to go one step further to prove her point to him – Inej pulled her face away, just slightly, just so he could look into his eyes. And her neck tilted to the side as she craned her head. They locked eyes.
“I trust you,” she whispered. “Trust me to not leave you.”
Kaz’s eyes drifted from her own to the exposed skin of her shoulder and back again. Then, so slowly, he leaned down, and touched his mouth to the spot where her neck and shoulder connected.
Inej let out a slow breath, her arm lifting to wrap around her neck, her hand touching the back of his head, fingers entwining in his hair.
He felt her pulse underneath him. A heartbeat that was anything but steady. They were so close, he could almost hear it. Desire coursed through him as Inej turned her head and pressed her nose against his cheek. Her fingers tightened in his hair as his lips closed on her shoulder, tasting her skin.
His hands were shaking as they gripped her shirt at the back.
Tell her to stay.
Touch her lips.
Tell her you love her.
Taste her lips.
Slowly, pulled his lips away, hands gripping her tighter, keeping him there, instead of letting go. He did not pull away. He did not let go. Instead, Kaz looked down at her, observing her flutter her eyelashes before opening her eyes to him.
And it was because of his sudden found courage, that he said, “Stay here. Stay with me.”
But she wanted more – he saw it in the way she cast her eyes downward, away from him. She wanted him to say more.
He tried. He tried his best, “I’m never going to be more than bruised knuckles and harsh edges. But I-“ His throat closed around the words. And Kaz willed himself to speak, to untie that knot, to let himself free. She wasn’t pulling away, she was still in his arms, her breath still against his jaw, and she felt so good, so small- “I need you here.”
At this, her eyes looked up.
“You don’t need anybody, Kaz,” she whispered.
He had said it so himself, countless times. When she’d offered to help with some job, when she’d offered him a hand-
“I lied.”
***
Inej & Kaz
It was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him.
For a second, Inej almost didn’t recognize the man – the boy – in front of her.
Not as he closed his eyes, and said with a voice so broken, with hands so tight around her, “I lied,” he whispered back. “I lied.”
Inej was silent.
Her heart was bursting, a million colours exploding. The words she had wanted to hear-
“I want you, I need you.”
There they were.
There he was – the Kaz she knew.
“Stay,” he said quietly.
And Inej eyes widened as he touched his forehead to hers. She looked down at his lips, lips that had been the primary image of her dreams for so long-
She thought he’d kiss her – but he didn’t.
She was grateful – and disappointed.
Her heart fell out of her chest as he continued, “Stay the night with me.”
“You want me to sleep in your bed?”
He opened his eyes, blinking down at her. As if he’d heard the meaning behind those words and remembered-
“Not if you don’t want to. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”
But Inej shook her head and she said, “I could use the warmth. It’s a cold night.”
It would be a challenge – but one they were both willing to take. Wanted to take.
His eyes followed her as she pulled herself away. She felt instantly cold. And they followed her as she kicked off her boots, as she placed her clean knives on the side.
Kaz only removed his shoes, and his belt. He left his chest bare. He made his way to his bed and she could see the strain in his body, the tiredness. She thought he’d turn around and take it back – tell her to leave. But he didn’t. He laid down, and then he was holding the covers for her.
There was no strain on his face, no pain in his eyes. There was, however, an interesting gleam in them, a sort of curious feeling shining in them. Inej took a breath, and she laid down next to him.
The bed was small enough to push them closer together. Inej saw him swallow, but Kaz only pushed the blankets over them, and stared at her.
For a long moment, they stared at each other, heads in the same pillow, breaths mingling.
And then Kaz said, “I wish I could’ve done more.”
“You were not in your best shape tonight, Kaz.”
“Not just tonight,” he clarified, eyes shining. “I should’ve done more for you.”
Inej furrowed her eyebrows. “You got me out, Kaz. You gave me a new life. What are you talking about?”
She saw the slight surprise in his eyes at her tone, at her anger. But he continued, “I put a knife in your hands and taught you how to trick and manipulate and kill – you call that a life?”
Inej stayed silent for a moment. And then she mumbled, “Do you think I would’ve been better with a man like that?”
He knew what she was referring to.
“There are many things you could’ve done differently,” she said. “You are a man of many faults, Kaz. No one can deny that. But I will never be able to thank you for what you’ve done for me. You got me on my feet and never made me feel indebted to you. Even now.”
He turned his eyes away. There was shame in his eyes.
She didn’t like that.
“Look at me. Please.”
He did.
Inej said, “I am here because I want to be here.” There was a pause. And then Inej dared to move closer. Just slightly. Just to see what he’d do. She moved enough to have her fists against his chest and her forehead touching his chin. “I need you too.”
She felt him look down at her. But she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t know what waited for her in those eyes.
But then, “I would never allow anyone this close to me, either,” said Kaz gravely. There were two fingers under her chin tilting her head to him. Kaz never pulled away. He looked at her for a few moments, and he said, “You know this. You know it’s only you, too.”
Inej couldn’t help but let her eyes travel to his parted lips. She swallowed down the need to trace them, touch them with her own, and looked into his eyes.
He murmured, “I will not kiss you tonight.”
She shivered at the tone.
“I want you to say the word,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready. If you’re ever ready.”
She wanted to say it. But Inej was plagued with memories of the night, of nights before. So instead she said, “When I kiss you,” she took her hand and lightly traced his swollen lip with her thumb, looking up into his eyes that did not stray from her, did not show any kind of repulse, fear, “when I kiss you, I want to think of you, only. I don’t want to hear his voice.”
Kaz observed her. And he nodded. “You’ll never hear it again.”
If it was up to him, she would not.
Inej designed a small smile, “Kaz,” she said, eyelids feeling heavy.
“Inej.”
“You make me forget. You make it better,” she murmured.
And her voice was so soft, so incredibly tender, that Kaz took her hand in his, gently, always noticing the changes on her face, and he surprised even himself by placing a gentle kiss on her wrist. He let her hand rest on his chest. Her eyes closed.
“You make me forget also, Inej.”
She smiled wider. Eyes closed.
He whispered, “Inej.”
“Kaz?”
“Thank you.”
Inej knew the weight of those words. Knew they meant much more than what they seemed.
She nodded, her mouth had no more words. Sleep took over.
And Kaz – Kaz stared at her for an hour or two, and he counted the heartbeats and the breaths and he thanked every blessed creature in the skies that looked down at them, protecting them. He had never believed it before – he was starting to believe tonight.
And slowly, he wrapped his arms around her in her sleep, hands at her back, moving in soothing circles. It was heaven, and the waters of hell were far away, because he was looking into her calm, serene sleeping face, and he wondered how he could have ever wanted to let himself go. How he was willing to let this go.
When sleep started to take him, Kaz felt her legs entwine with his, her warmth against his coldness. And he found himself in the clouds. The world was made of sunshine and stars. He never pulled away.
Sometime after, Inej’s eyes opened slightly as she felt him. Kaz snored slightly, but his face was no longer hopeless. He looked young, and he looked like he was dreaming. He shivered in his sleep, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. She smiled to herself, half-asleep and very entertained – even in his sleep he frowned. Her eyes widened as his arms pulled her against her chest, as they clutched to her tight. His nose was against hers. And she noticed he’d stopped breathing for a few seconds. But then he was snoring softly again.
Inej had never felt warmer.
When the last candle burned out, Inej closed her eyes and she let herself be embraced by the boy with the bruised knuckles and harsh edges who had unknowingly been her lighthouse in the storm that was her past.
Inej fell asleep.
Her mind was a canvas and it was painted in the brightest colours the world had to offer.