Drowning (Kaz Brekker)

vi - Four Million Kruge

WHEN KAZ FINALLY CAME BACK, Asra knew instantly what had happened. Finally. He was dishevelled, damp, and limping a little more than usual. He was almost an hour later than Asra had predicted. She'd slipped into his office on the top floor of the Slat ages ago, and he just stared at her when he came in.

She was sat on his makeshift desk, reading his papers with obvious disinterest. Asra smiled at him, waggling her fingers in a wave.

Kaz closed the door behind him. "Van Eck spoke to me."

She let her legs hang over the edge of the desk, gripping the edge with scarred hands. "Told ya. You two talk about me?"

"Yes."

She leaned forward. "And?"

"And he won't be bothering you again." He shrugged off his coat, stood facing his wash basin. Asra noticed blood on his sleeve and didn't stop her smile.

"Wonderful." She swung her legs. "I'm flattered you care, Kaz."

She swung from the desk, landing beside him with a soft thud. Hands laced behind her back, Asra leant against the wall beside him, face blank. "What's the job?"

Kaz was undoing his waistcoat. "Four million kruge."

Asra whistled. "For what?"

"An impossible job, near certain death, terrible odds, but should we scrape it..." he trailed off, eyes distant, dreamy as his voice. It was rare to see Kaz like this.

Asra grinned. "I dread to think."

"We'll be kings and queens Asra. Kings and Queens."

She loved how he said her name. "I could get behind that. King Kaz, Queen Asra. Has a nice ring to it."

When Asra looked back, Kaz was shirtless.

Her eyes widened slightly, watching as Kaz dumped his shirt. He was all corded muscle and sharp lines. He was dotted with scars, same as her. And two tattoos sat on his forearm, the Dregs' crow and cup and a simple black R. Asra hasn't asked what it meant.

Then came the gloves. He pulled them off, lay them aside, and grabbed a cloth to dip into the water. His hands were made to pick locks, shuffle cards, trick the eye. Long and slender fingers, slight callouses on his finger tips. Asra knew she shouldn't stare. She did anyway.

"How long?" She asked, eyes following his hand as he ran the wet cloth along his torso, water trickling down between-- Oh what am I doing? What is he doing?

"A few weeks, maybe a month." If Kaz saw any absurdity at the situation, he didn't show it. Of course he didn't.

Asra leant her back to the wall, looking out the window. "What else?"

"Round up Jesper and Muzzen. I want them here by dawn. And I'll need Wylan waiting at the Crow Club tomorrow night."

"Wylan? The kid barely handles himself as is, a big job like this-"

"Just do it."

Asra rolled her eyes. "Inej can get them."

"Fine." He shrugged on a shirt, waistcoat, tossed her something. Asra caught it out the air and examined it. "You can fence that."

It was a tie pin; a golden laurel wreath circled around a simply massive ruby. Van Eck's.

"Course." She said, then pocketed it. She went to leave, had one hand on the door handle when he spoke again.

"What did he want with you?"

Asra hesitated. Jan Van Eck had come to her two nights ago, as she was walking home to the Slat. It was dark, quiet, she was alone. She didn't know what happened. One moment she was cutting through an alley, the next there was a needle in her neck.