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*
It makes sense to use Geldrenner Hotel as a base of operations.
Or at least to Kaz…
She isn't of the mind to question what may or may not be an act of revenge entangled in Per Haskell's business with the Razorgulls.
Not now.
"Will you be alright, Inej?"
Across the dimly lit space paid out, Kaz waits at the door. His eyes avoid her. Kaz didn't ask her to do this. Inej couldn't imagine why he might blame himself over something so inconsequential. She volunteered. Nobody else fits the description for doing what needs doing.
(She's a wraith, yes… but even wraiths fear too much exposure.)
"I will be," Inej murmurs, the truth running as deep as Suli prayers she recites by memory.
*
Silk from Ahmrat Jen… the beaded buttons from Os Alta… jewels in the hairpiece from Djerholm costing a fair amount of krydda…
Inej understands this is an investment.
Much like she is.
Kaz's target adores women. Women with dark, coiling hair like that of his now deceased mistress. Rumour is that he strangled her with it—and strangled quite violently—Councilman Hoede, a estimable companion and benefactor to the target, strikes down any accusations.
She paces herself up to one of the hotel's fifteen floors where a banquet, held by some of the influential bodies of Ketterdam's financial district, and makes herself known to Kaz's target when he immediately seeks her out for a conversation. He smells of fresh mangoes and the wax paper they're carried in from the harbour. Inej knows somewhere on the floor, Kaz is there. He has a debt owed by their informant.
The target apologises, offering a simper of a hyena-like grin, wandering off as he recognises a face from the Merchant Council.
Inej wanders, too. She didn't expect the job to be easy. They're in a overly crowded section of a banquet-hall.
Within it, she feels Kaz's eyes on her, at least twice, and…
Was she meant to feel pleased?
(Ever since Tante Heleen signed Inej's contract over, so she may buy off the indenture for freedom, Inej swore to never look or be forced into vulnerability again. She would be not be given to any man, or woman, or person existing against Inej's will. And not in front of Kaz.)
This isn't being vulnerable—no matter how it appears, this is control.
Control of every move and spoken word.
Inej fears no-one.
As she wanders, swirling a glass of crème de violette with a finger, Inej begins to notice the eyes on her state of dress. Her low-fitted bodice. Not quite as ostentatious and vulgar as what the Menagerie forced her into. However, much of Inej's dark brown and perfumed skin has been displayed out in the open with her bared arms and her collarbone. The high, tightened swell of Inej's breasts whenever she inhales.
Unlike the Menagerie, Inej chose this.
That is the difference…
She chose to be seen, and that is what wraiths desire the most…
Inej imagines Kaz wherever he is… making observations, counting the exits once more… looking at the striking colour of her dress. The small, slender line of Inej's neck veiled and the curve of her back. Anywhere but her skin, or the deep, tantalizing plunge of Inej's corset…
As intended, the target follows her, no longer with only his admiring gaze. They end up in a more private carrel of the shadow and smoke.
She discovers it's surprisingly easy while alone, using a purposeful monotone for answering his questions, knowing it holds sway. Not cowering under his height. Not being ashamed or fearful or miserable about how Inej looks. Even if it's far more revealing than she likes.
When Kaz's target leans into her, too vulnerable, Inej splashes the contents of her brandy glass into his face. And up his nose.
He chokes, hollering as if drowned in it.
Pale purple drips off eyelashes.
Inej wretches his arm painfully behind him, expertly bringing the target to his knees and taking out Sankt Petyr. Her very first knife. Given by Kaz. She demands answers for her own questions. But, Saints above, it's no longer easy—a commotion, a scream and a pop of gunfire—
His weight throws, and throws Inej herself, and she collides—
into—
"Damn!" Kaz mutters.
Having caught her with one arm, he limps and straightens a wide-eyed Inej up. His black leathered gloves creak.
As quickly as the muffled heat of Kaz happens, it's gone.
The man takes off, snatching Inej's knife.
More commotion.
Councilman Hoede's protests echoes.
"Follow him," Kaz barks, like it's a command, and Inej recovers from her surprise, hesitating, looking him in the eye. A beat of silence. Kaz's furious expression relents. His voice even. "It would be greatly appreciated if you would follow him and… acquire… what we came for."
She yanks out Sankta Anastasia from the thigh-holster under her dress.
Inej's lips faintly, smilingly twitch.
*
Nearly an hour passes.
A mile or two from Ledbridge, Kaz waits for her in a dirty and rain-soaked alleyway. There's haze from a smokestack in Beurscanal. Warm and cindery. Kaz's hair glistens like huile. It's not that he knows which alley Inej will appear to him… it's about trusting the other.
He doesn't know this, Inej supposes, but Kaz may as well be an oil lantern in the dark.
Glaring, yes… dangerous and harsh, yes… but still providing warmth where all others are cold and unwelcoming. A beacon to those who are lost and need finding. A speck of hope in the bleakness Inej prayed to be risen from since she was a child. Asking the Saints for a guiding hand.
Inej appears to him, not a speck of blood on her, not a one dark hair out of place on her head.
She twirls Sankt Petyr with ease, sheathing it.
"Here it is," Inej says, holding out a fold of paper while pressing her left hand over her bodice-ribbons slightly torn and knifed. Her chest straining. She had Kaz's target write down what resided in his memory, including an address. It corroborates with what Smeet spoke of.
Kaz's head jerkily turns.
He avoids making eye-contact with her, but Inej wonders if it's more to do with shame than anything else…
"Kaz…" Inej says firmly when Kaz's hand goes out for the paper, halting him.
She doesn't look away from his own eyes.
"Kaz."
His name softens, and Kaz hoarsely takes a breath, finally looking.
When he reaches again is when Inej realises that…
There's no glove.
Kaz's bare and warm-feeling fingers brushes hers. The sudden sensation so dizzying. Inej's mouth hangs. She trembles. Or, it is Inej feeling Kaz's tremble. Perhaps it's both. She cannot be sure as Kaz slowly slips the paper-fold from her. "You did well," Kaz says lowly, meaningfully.
Before their hands separate, Inej breathlessly curls a fingertip against Kaz's, hooking him…
Savouring that last bit of heat before it disappears…
"We're not returning to Geldrenner Hotel, are we?" Inej asks, watching him refocus.
Kaz shakes his head.
"Let's go, Inej," he mumbles, stepping with his cane first. "You needn't remain in those clothes any longer."
"They're not hideous?"
He clears his throat.
"I wouldn't… ever… use that word to describe you."
Inej snorts softly, keeping a pace behind Kaz.
"Then… what word would you use?" she says, feeling pleased again when the tips of Kaz's ears redden.
Or perhaps it's a trick of the gaslight.
Well…
She isn't of the mind to question it further.
For now.
*