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As a rule, Kaz Brekker didn’t do birthdays.
It wasn’t as if they were uncommon in the Barrel, in fact it was probably the only night of the year where you could get away with not paying for your own whiskey, but it was more that Kaz didn’t really see the point. Celebrating hadn’t exactly been his main priority as a starving orphan on the streets of Ketterdam, and as the years went on, Kaz had just fallen out of the habit.
That’s part of the reason why, on January 9th, he’s holed up in his office and swiftly losing patience with this wannabe Barrel boss. The man currently staining his office carpet with grime is short, built like a weasel, and stinks of watered down wine and if Kaz didn’t know any better, he’d say that the man is trying to waste his time.
“Get to the point,” Kaz’s voice is cold, and he keeps the uninterested air firmly lodged in his tone. The man bristles a little.
“Look kid, you might fancy yourself king of the Barrel since Pekka Rollins rolled over, but the Black Tips still hold North East Stave and buying up the Red Cutlass is out of line .”
“Is that so?”
“ Yes. In fact-”
“ Nothing is out of line where I’m concerned, especially in the Barrel, and the Black Tips would do well to remember that.” Kaz reaches out and rests his hand on his cane’s crow head and the man before him seems to take a moment to bite back whatever insults he was about to spew. Though Kaz doesn’t make any move to stand from his desk, the threat still hangs heavy in the air. And it’s not an idle one either - ten minutes into this conversation how unfair it is for Kaz to buy up the Red Cutlass and he’s seriously considering breaking an ankle or two.
“I can’t tell if you’re stupidly brave to come into Dreg territory alone and unarmed to argue your cause or just plain stupid, but the Black Tips should be grateful to have any land in the first place considering how pathetically Geels is managing you. The Red Cutlass is barely in your territory and it’s Dreg property.” Kaz pauses briefly, considering. “Half a million kruge.”
The man blinks, “what?”
“If you want it back so badly I’d be willing to sell. Half a million kruge is my asking price.”
He knows full well the Black Tips’ coffers won’t even cover half of that and by the way the man’s face turns crimson in outrage, Kaz is pretty sure he knows it two.
“You cocky little bastard!” The man yanks out a wicked blade as Kaz stands, cane in hand. It would be a small thing to yell for a member of the Dregs to finish this for him, but Saints is Kaz itching for a fight.
And this idiot has just given him one.
The knife swings out to him in a wide arc, broken by Kaz’s own cane flicking up and smashing into the man's wrist. There’s a nasty crunching sound and the blade is dropped from limp fingers as the thug howls. It doesn’t take much for Kaz to have him pressed against the wall, head of the cane digging into his throat. His assailant’s breathing starts to wheeze as Kaz pushes the metal deeper.
“Listen here-”
A crow alights outside his window and Kaz breaks off as it gives a low caw - surprise rises within him and it’s an effort to school his features to neutrality, moving his cane from the man’s throat. The thug whimpers and Kaz ignores him.
“Get out of my office. If you return again, I’ll break more than just your wrist.”
The man scampers towards the door without a second thought and Kaz flicks his cane out, blocking the way.
“And tell Geels that if he has a problem with me, he can arrange a Parley.” A small smile touches his lips. “Again.”
This time Kaz does let him leave, watching as he escapes into the Slat, clutching his arm. Fool. With any luck some Dreg will see him deep in their territory and deal with him for Kaz, but he’s not holding his breath. Ever since the false alarm of the plague a month ago, people are still tetchy about touching each other, something that suits Kaz very well.
The crow caws again. Kaz smooths down his waistcoat and the cold breeze hits the back of his neck as the window behind him is opened silently.
“Inej,” he greets, turning to face the girl who was his wraith and so much more. For someone who’s been at sea for the last month, Inej looks surprisingly unchanged. Her hair is coiled up, not down in a braid and she smells of salt, but other than that Kaz could almost fool himself into thinking things were back how they were, before the Ice Court heist. He wonders if she’s thinking the same thing about him. He wonders if she’s felt his absence like a constant ache like he has for her.
“How did you know it was me?” Inej asks finally, breaking the silence.
“The crows only caw like that to you after you started feeding them. I think they miss you.” I miss you, he almost says, but doesn’t.
“What business?” Kaz settles with instead, leaning back against his desk and stretching out his bad leg. It always seems to get worse with bad weather and this January has been exceptionally damp. “You weren’t meant to be back for another few weeks.”
Inej shugs, “It’s your birthday, Kaz.”
“So?”
“Saints Kaz, can I not visit you on your birthday?”
“You know I don’t do birthdays.” He pauses for a second, “But… it’s good to have my wraith back.”
Inej gives a smile that, as she shifts forward slightly, Kaz realises is more strained than anything.
And then he blinks and it all falls into place. How she’s favouring her right leg, how she’s set her jaw in a kind of grimace and how utterly stupid he is to not notice she was hurt sooner. Kaz’s eyes darken.
“Who?”
“Kaz—”
“ Who?”
Inej shifts a little and Kaz finally sees the blood on her thigh. He doesn’t like the feeling that spreads through him. It’s far too close to the one that made him rip out Ooman’s eye all those months ago, the one that makes him irrational and dangerously out of control.
Inej takes a step toward him, eyes narrowing in pain at the movement, “Turns out the Black Tips have their own spider.”
“And they bested you?”
The Suli girl squares her shoulders, offended, “I can’t dodge bullets, Kaz. Besides, it’s just a graze.”
By the way Inej is trembling ever so slightly, it’s clearly not just a graze, but Kaz is more distracted by the fact that the Black Tips were shooting bullets at his wraith. Nevermind an eye, he’s going to rip Geels’ hands off. He pushes that to the back of his mind and lets it tick over, finessing the exact details of his revenge as he stares at Inej.
“I’ll call a medik.”
“Kaz, I’m fine. I just - I’ll sew myself up.”
“Don’t bleed on my carpet,” says Kaz but opens a desk drawer and pulls out a roll of thread and needle anyway - a relic from when Inej would frequently arrive in his office in need of stitching up.
Inej limps heavily over to the wall, sinking down it and biting back a hiss of pain as she does. Kaz starts towards her and then pauses as she cuts away the fabric next to the wound. He was right - it’s not a graze, the wound is jagged, an angry crimson, and oozing blood right onto his carpet - Kaz doesn’t comment, instead passing Inej the needle and thread.
She takes it silently, but they’ve done this enough times before that Kaz knows she’s not outright ignoring him. Sunlight catches the steel as it shakes in her fingers and Inej lets out a frustrated breath as the thread misses the eye of the needle. A minute passes of Inej trying and failing to thread the needle with increasingly trembling fingers before she drops it on the floor, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes and giving a shuddering breath.
Quietly, Kaz lowers himself down beside her, laying down his cane and picking up the needle.It’s quickly apparent that he too won’t be able to thread it with his gloves on and he takes a steadying breath. He could best this. He’d done it before with Inej, in the bathroom before the coup in the Dregs. Before he’d kissed her shoulder and it had all gone to hell, those little touches on her skin had been unbearable, but Kaz had survived them. He could survive this, for her.
Kaz takes another breath.
He removes his gloves.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Inej watching him as he lays the fabric to the side and deftly threads the needle. The way she’s looking at him, the way the blood is staining her clothes, the way the cool air brushes the skin of his palms, it all reminds him far too much of the bathroom and of the revulsion that had exploded in his chest at the touch of her skin. Of the longing he had felt that hadn’t been enough.
But - there had been another time, before she saw her parents, where they had stood watching Ketterdam and he had held her hand. Kaz clung to the memory. He wanted to do that again. He’d promised himself he’d drag himself into some semblance of a man for her and Kaz supposed this was where it began.
“Talk to me,” Kaz says, ignoring how scratchy his voice sounds as he examines the wound, both figuring out where to start and delaying the inevitable for as long as possible.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Inej gives her own set of slow breaths. “I caught my first slaver ship two weeks after I Ieft Ketterdam.” Her voice is soft, “We boarded, we fought, and we won.”
Kaz lets the words flood his mind, blocking out anything else as he reaches out and pinches the skin on either side of the wound together.
It’s unbearable.
Disgust slams into him and Kaz very nearly recoils as his heart reaches a frantic pace. Bloated, rotting skin presses against his fingers as Kaz forces himself into stillness. Inej continues.
“When everyone on that ship was dead, I went down to the hold. There were ten, maybe eleven Shu girls crammed in there and… I just froze.”
It takes every inch of Kaz’s willpower not to yank his hands away, to focus on Inej, rather than the revulsion itching under his skin.
“I couldn’t move. It just felt like… like I was the one trapped there, like the last few years were for nothing because I was back in that Saints-forsaken ship and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”
Kaz unclenches his jaw and takes a shallow breath. Inej’s skin is warm under his own and a pulse beats faintly through it. Alive. She’s alive and in his office. This is not like Jordie. That thought, coupled with her steady voice gives Kaz the push he needs to press the needle into her skin. A knuckle brushes her thigh and Kaz shudders, but continues pulling the thread through until it’s taut.
This is familiar, grounding. Kaz has watched Inej sew herself up more times than he can remember and it’s morbidly comforting, like he’s completing some private ritual between the two.
“The Shu girls were terrified of me, I think. They spoke very little Kerch and I think they thought either I was going to hurt them or their captors would find out they had left the hold. That was what finally snapped me out of it. I took them out into the sunlight and I told them that they had been so brave and it was all over. I told them I’d take them home, or wherever else they wanted to go. If someone had rescued me all those years ago, those were the words I would’ve wanted to hear.”
The second stitch is easier for Kaz as he pulls the thread through, adjusting his grip on her thigh slightly. The initial dread has passed, leaving a steady hum of panic and longing buzzing through him.
He wants to move closer to her.
He wants to shove himself away.
He makes another stitch.
“We took the girls back to Shu Han, but I left the captain of the slave ship alive. I tied him to the wheel of his ship and sailed away. Maybe he’ll wash up on some shore somewhere, but maybe he starved. I gave him a chance, but I hope he starved.”
Kaz is moving more quickly now, the rhythm of the sewing calming his frantic heart.
“Done,” he says after a moment and pulls away, despising the relief that comes with the motion. Something inside him snaps back into place - he feels in control again.
“Thank you,” Inej responds, though Kaz can’t tell what it’s for.
“The captain had it coming. You did well to take those girls back to Shu Han - word is Heleen was practically pulling out her hair when her shipment didn’t arrive.”
Inej smiles and Kaz thinks he forgets how to breathe for a moment. He really should get up, give her space, sort out a plan for the fallout with the Black Tips, but Kaz can’t bring himself to. A dark lock of Inej’s hair has fallen across her face, and, utterly on impulse, Kaz reaches out to brush it back behind her ear.
Skin meets skin and the revulsion coils in his gut, searing through his fingers freezing Kaz in place for a moment, before ebbing slightly to something a little more manageable. Despite it, Kaz lingers for a moment before breaking contact, at the same time dissolving the energy that crackles between the two like lightning.
“So,” Inej says, a half whisper.
“So.” Kaz repeats.
The moment of stillness is broken by Kaz reaching for his gloves. He considers them for a moment, but pulls them on regardless. They bring him a steadiness and relief he doesn’t care to quantify, something that Kaz desperately needs.
Using his cane, Kaz pushes himself up, feeling much more like himself and much more like he can hunt down Geels for attacking his Wraith. Inej must see his expression, as she too stands and stares him down.
“Don’t. I’ll deal with the Black Tips.”
Kaz straightens his tie. “I don’t care.”
There’s a fleeting silence broken by Inej’s sudden laugh. Kaz starts a little and stares at her.
“Saints, normal really isn’t a concept for us is it? You spend your birthday threatening rival gangs and I spend it bleeding out on your carpet.”
“You’re paying to replace that,” Kaz’s voice is mild and Inej smiles again.
“I don’t know why I expected anything different from us, but happy birthday Kaz, for what it’s worth.”
Her amusement is infectious and Kaz finds himself fighting back his own smile, but he settles for rolling his eyes instead.
“Anyway,” Inej continues, “I have a present for you.”
At that, Kaz blinked. The pair had never particularly indulged each other with gifts, and though Kaz had given her a warship, everyone in the barrel was so skint that loyalty and respect were earnt with actions, not objects, and that sentiment had carried through to their partnership. Suffice to say, Kaz is more than a little surprised as Inej opens the window, leans out as far as she can with her injured leg and whistles. There’s a flash of glossy black feathers and a large crow settles on her outstretched arm.
Again, Kaz blinks.
“It’s a bird.”
“It’s a crow. ” Inej points to a ring around its foot, securing a little tube. “I had a fabricator make it for me. I know it won’t hold much, but if you write a message and stick it in the tube, the crow will always know where I am and it’ll deliver the message.”
The crow stares Kaz down with unblinking eyes.
“Faster than a letter.”
“Exactly. Kaz, when I told you I wasn’t done with Ketterdam, I meant it. I am not leaving this city behind.”
I’m not leaving you behind. The words are unspoken but crackle between the two regardless. It both slams Kaz back to earth and makes him feel like the ground has been ripped from under him. Inej is staring at him like she’s waiting for him to respond and for the first time in maybe his entire life, Kaz Brekker is speechless. He’s almost grateful when the crash from the main floor of the Slat shatters the moment.
A crash that is distinctly Jesper.
Inej pulls back at the same time Kaz does, but it’s an effort to tear his eyes away from her as the door to his office is thrown open with all the grace of, well, Jesper. The sharpshooter barrels inside, eyes first darting to Kaz and then Inej as his face splits into a huge smile.
“Inej!”
It’s all Kaz can do to move out of the way before Jesper darts forward and scoops the Suli girl up into a hug, even as the crow on her arm squarks and lands on Kaz’s desk. To her credit, Inej hugs him back, grinning and wincing at the same time.
“Ow, Jesper, ow,” she says, pushing him off after a moment and pressing a hand against her leg.
“Saints Inej, are you hurt? We should call a medik-”
“No, no, Jesper, I’m fine, I’m just glad to see you.”
“Also your hugs are intense,” says Wylan as he carefully steps through the door, followed by Nina who eyes the crow on the desk. The circles under her eyes are dark, as they have been since Matthias’ death, but other than that, she looks better than when Kaz last saw her, steadier, more colour in her cheeks.
He’s glad.
“Getting a passion for birdwatching, Kaz?” Nina asks, giving an only slightly strained smirk.
He’s less glad.
Kaz ignores her and turns to Wylan, the only one in this room who’s likely to give him a straight answer.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s your birthday!”
“And?”
“And what? It’s your birthday and you can get over yourself for one evening.” He slaps a pack of cards on the table at the same time Nina pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Kaz raises an eyebrow.
“Kaz, stop being a miserable old sod for a moment and have some fun for once,” says Nina, slamming down the bottle and picking up the cards.
“I know you don’t do birthdays Kaz,” Jesper gins as he locks the door to the office and Kaz raises his eyebrows. He could pick that lock in his sleep, something he refrains from mentioning, “so we’re holding you hostage with card games and alcohol.”
“Do I not get a say in this?”
“Absolutely not. Sit down.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kaz sees Inej completely failing to hold back a laugh.
He sits.
“If we’re playing cards, I might as well deal,” Kaz’s voice is neutral but Nina’s eyebrows shoot up into her hair like he’s just suggested kicking a puppy.
“No!” She and Wylan say in unison and Kaz holds his hands up in defence.
“Relax. I’m not going to cheat.”
“Kaz, I don’t think you could avoid controlling a deck even if you tried.”
“ I’ll deal,” mutters Wylan, spreading them out on the desk, “We all know I’m no good a Three Man Bramble anyway.”
Jesper snorts and seats himself next to Kaz, leaning over conspiratorially, “he’s right, I’ve tried to teach him, but alas.”
Wylan deals them all in and Nina takes a swig of whiskey before passing it to Kaz who eyes it and does the same.
“Don’t even think of cheating, Kaz,” Jesper says and Kaz holds back a smirk.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
~*~
Kaz did cheat, but he was fairly confident that every other member on the table was doing the exact same thing, albeit with varying levels of success. Wylan was doing a truly shocking job of controlling the deck and trying to subtly let Jesper know what cards everyone else had been holding and Nina had found every excuse to lean right across Kaz for the whiskey and eye up his own hand. Only Inej had attempted any kind of discretion, occasionally leaning over a little too far as she made a comment to Nina, who was truly too drunk to particularly care.
Kaz still won.
And now he’s standing on a bridge over one of the many canals that flows into the East Stave, watching the water rush below him as he grips the railing. Night had long since fallen over Ketterdam and although the light blocked out the stars, the water still shone with reflections from bars and clubs.
Kaz had excused himself on the pretence of clearing his head, but really he just needed to sort out the confusing mess of feelings surrounding Inej. If Kaz has learnt anything in his time in the Barrel, then it’s that weaknesses will always be exploited - Saints, he’s practically an expert in sniffing out others’ weak spots to claw out any advantage he can. Inej is a lot of things, but after tonight, a weakness is undoubtedly one of them. Maybe it’s best if she’s out of Ketterdam permanently, though that doesn’t stop Kaz viscerally rejecting that idea every time he imagines it.
It’s not long before Inej appears as she always does, silently and melting out of the shadows to stand by his side. Kaz doesn’t need to look to know it’s her.
Her hand rests on the railing beside his.
He can feel the heat from her skin, even through his gloves.
They don’t touch, but her fingers are barely a hair’s breadth from his own - he hates how that makes him swallow and freeze.
“How long are you in Ketterdam for?”
“Maybe a week, maybe less.”
“I see.”
The rushing of the water below fills the silence.
“You shouldn’t stay for long.”
The Wraith turns her head to face him, dark hair falling across her shoulder.
“Inej, I lie and I steal and I spy and I find other people’s weaknesses. And then I use it against them. I’ve used it against Geels and I’ve used it against Pekka Rollins and I’ll do it again. It’s only a matter of time before somebody exploits you against me.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know. But tensions are rising between the Dregs and Black Tips, and they’ve already targeted you once. I can more than handle Geels, but if anything happened to you -” Kaz cuts himself off before be says something truely stupid, but he knows it’s too late. He’s already said too much.
He’s a damned fool.
Inej has fully turned to him now and Kaz’s hands clench as her fingers brush against his as she moves.
“Kaz-”
“Don’t. Just leave it.”
“ Kaz. If I’m your weakness, then - saints - you’re mine. And you’re not the only one with enemies. Every slave ship I take down has a hundered people behind it all looking for revenge who’ll be doing the exact same thing that you do. They’ll be hunting for my weakness too. This goes both ways, Kaz.” Her lips quirked up in a faint smile, “And let’s face it, you’re about as defenceless as I am.”
Kaz resists the urge to run his hands across his face, instead settling with inspecting the head of his cane.
“For people like you and me, weakness are inevitable.”
Oh fuck it.
She was right. She had always been right.
It was now or never.
“Inej,” Kaz’s voice is hardly above a whisper, the words dragging themselves out into the open, unwilling even now. “You… you are my weakness.”
Her eyes widen, and then widen further as Kaz leans into her, lips stopping an inch from her’s, waiting and hoping that she’ll push him away. Her breath brushes his face as Inej blinks, once. She does more than just stop him. She kisses him back.
It’s disgusting, it’s exhilarating.
Kaz digs his fingers into the head of his cane, the freezing metal biting into his palms starving off the revulsion and panic. He can do this. He can do this. He can do this. His heart slams against his chest, beating away at a frantic pace in his throat and Kaz can’t tell why. They’re pressed against each other for barely a few seconds before Kaz pulls away, taking a step back and increasing the distance between them to what feels like miles. The cold night air is a shock against his skin and his breathing is coming too fast. He sounds like a strangled animal, but - he can do this.
His gloved fingers clench and unclench as Kaz struggles to retain some semblance of control, even as the nausea rises within him. But he glances up at Inej, almost scared of what he would find, but he still stares and, saints, Inej is practically glowing.
Light reflects off her dark eyes, making her look like she’s glowing from within.
She looks radiant.
Kaz isn’t sure how much of that is showing on his face, but by the way Inej is staring at him, he’s pretty sure he’s doing a terrible job at hiding it. But, there’s still an undercurrent of abhorrence - he wishes he could say that he wants to kiss her again, right now, but that would be a blatant lie.
The railing is cold against his fingers as he moves back to the railing, watching the water flow beneath. Inej moves next to him and just her presence is enough to steady him.
“So, what happens now?” he asks.
“I stay in Ketterdam for the week and then I leave. We stay in contact with our crow and in another month, I visit again.”
It’s a simple, clear plan - Kaz can deal with that. He taps his cane against the cobblestones of the bridge and the sound rings out clear and sharp against the night.
“Either Nina or Jesper have probably drunk the rest of the whiskey by now. We should go back inside.”
Inej hums in agreement, but in the end, watching the lights on the water and breathing in the night, neither of them move.