𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — out of spite

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 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 of the shingled roof had begun to sting at Aleksa's skin. She and Inej had stayed side by side for some time, watching as the lacklustre stars twinkled in the sky, obscured by a mass of fog that frequently washed over the city.

 The shadows around them had danced whenever Aleksa wiggled her fingers; she created shapes, creatures and masses of darkness before the Suli girl's eyes, until a particular feathery creature decided that enough was enough and he needed his attention back.

 Cas was an odd thing, he would have been even if he hadn't been blessed with two heads, four eyes and dual beaks. He hopped from tile to tile and nuzzled at Inej's hand until the girl gave in and tousled his feathers... Like a cat, he made himself well at home within Aleksa's lap, almost cooing as she ran her fingers over his coal-black feathers.

 Inej had always regarded Aleksa as somebody special, seeing her through a rose-coloured lens. She was a Grisha, and an incredibly rare one at that. A Shadow Summoner; even the name of their bloodline could make a person shiver and recoil.

 The stories of the Black Heretic had made Inej sceptical upon their first meeting, and even for the weeks following... But it was soon evident to Inej that Aleksa wasn't her ancestor. She could descend into darkness and frighten anyone she needed to, even without the help of her shadows, yet the other side of her was so unlike anything Inej could have foretold.

 She was just a young woman who craved the adrenaline an adventure brought her. She desired being desired, and took whatever she craved. But above all else, Inej had never had the fortune of meeting anybody just as loyal as she.

 She was the newest of the crows, even still, yet Inej had never seen anybody win Kaz Brekker over in the same manner that Aleksa had. She was charming, that much was impeccably obvious; and had Inej not grown to love her like a sibling, she was certain she'd have fallen for her too, but Kaz was not somebody to be won by charm alone.

 Kaz sought the one of a kind. He wanted the strong, the brave and most of all, the loyal.

 Aleksa had always voiced her opinion, even in times where Inej thought it better to keep her mouth shut; she was unafraid of Kaz, and the Bastard of the Barrel knew it. She wouldn't shrink beneath his cold gaze, if anything she grew and opposed him further. She fought for Inej and Jesper and repeatedly called Kaz out when she decided he was being shitty enough to do so.

 Not once had Kaz Brekker stopped her. Sure, his cane would often collide with her ankle or forearm, but always in jest. He scowled and sneered at her, yet never threatened or truly fought her. He valued her strength and her opinion.

 Aleksa was an anomaly; to Grisha, and to Ketterdam.

 "I need a drink," Aleksa mumbled lightly into their blessed silence. Her fingers trailed through the damp feathers that lined Cas' skin. He seemed to hum at her touch, his beak nibbling at her skin.

 Inej stayed silent, her head tilting to the side for just a moment. She recalled her shouting match with Kaz and then stood to her feet, holding a hand out to Aleksa, ignoring the somehow sour look the dual-headed bird tossed her way, "I could use a shot."

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 The Crow Club bustled with life; the shouts of rowdy men and women chimed like evening bells; the clinking of glasses was almost drowned by the sloshing alcohol that rippled within them.

 A thick cloud of smoke billowed around the room like a bundle of ravenous snakes as patrons new and old smoked and laughed. The shuffling of decks was loud in Aleksa's ears, as was the jingle of coins as the gamblers and pigeons tossed their money to the tables with arrogance and hope.

 Aleksa trailed through the club, her sour mood that Kaz had oh-so graciously gifted her was very much present, yet with Inej's smooth as velvet voice muttering behind her, she felt it waver.

 Aleksa paused in her steps, the heavy clunk of her boots stilling as she stared at the thin and boney back of a certain somebody perched on a barstool. The boy held a bronze finger in the air as he summoned for the bartender, Joe, to fill his empty shot glass.

 "Is that Jesper?" Inej spoke, utter confusion in her eyes as she scanned the tables. Seeing Jesper Fahey, resident sharpshooter preening near the bar wasn't exactly odd or out of place, but considering the time of the night, both Shadow Summoner and Wraith presumed he'd be gambling away what little money he had.

 "At least he's not burying himself in more debt."

 "No, rather than lose money to cards, he's losing it to alcohol."

 "Ah," Aleksa nodded as she tilted her head to the side, catching Inej's dark eyes, "But he isn't addicted to alcohol."

 Inej simply hummed, though the disapproval she held towards Jesper's habits was as obvious as the sun on a clear day.

 Jesper had the fingers of a twitchy toddler. He, not unlike Aleksa, sought out fun as his primary objective; sadly Jespers idea of fun was falling into further debt due to his affliction of terrible luck. He couldn't focus enough to gauge his opponent's reactions, he couldn't pull their faces apart and scrutinise their every move; and most of all, he couldn't conceal his own face whenever he took a peek at his own cards.

 He had a hunger within his eyes the mere moment the word 'luck' was uttered. If he could so much as see a single card out of its deck, he'd sidle up to it and place his bets. Thankfully, whilst Jesper had an addiction to the gambling tables, he didn't have an unquenchable thirst for alcohol too.

 If he did, it would have been disastrous, for Jesper Fahey could not handle his liquor.

 The sharpshooter's habits worried both Summoner and Wraith; they wished they could pry his nimble fingers from the decks, throw out every chipped table that was slick with sticky alcohol. But they couldn't. If Jesper was to ever stop gambling, it'd have to be on his own accord.

 Aleksa was the first to reach him, and with deft fingers she plucked the glistening shot glass from his calloused fingertips, holding his startled look as it slowly morphed into irritation. He huffed and pouted, his nose, cheeks and ears radiating heat from the flush the alcohol had given him.

 Joe the bartender scurried over with a grin — holding a new shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. His free hand wiped the stickiness of spilt drinks onto the dirtied apron around his rotund middle. he brandished the shot like a man would procure a bunch of roses for his doe-eyed lover, "Here ya go, Aleksa."

 Aleksa's brilliantly white teeth shone beneath the lights of the club, and Jesper simply rolled his eyes as Joe offered a flourishing bow and tittered off to his next customer. A waft of whiskey was left in his wake.

 Jesper wasted no time in plucking the shot from Aleksa's fingers, however, as he brought it to his awaiting lips, Inej's slender fingers swiped it from his clasp. She tipped her head back as the alcohol burned on her tongue, and left a path of flames down her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, and once more she had to wonder how Aleksa didn't shudder as she sipped away on strong, cherry-scented beverages that Joe tirelessly concocted for her.

 Jesper looked about ready to slam his face against the sticky bar. Instead, he offered the girls a malice-free glare and summoned for another shot, hoping that this time, he'd feel the relief of its burn.

 Aleksa had her elbow leaning atop the mahogany bar, her chin resting against her palm as her fingers danced freely over her cheek. She watched as Inej recovered from the shot she'd thrown back, her face finally being taken over by a small scowl.

 "He's obsessed with taking down Pekka Rollins."

 Aleksa had no rebuttal, for Inej was completely right. Whenever the merchant was mentioned, be it a whisper or a yell; Kaz Brekker withered. The Bastard of the Barrel never looked inviting, if anything he looked as though his favourite pass-time was scaring little children... But when Pekka's name rolled off someone's tongue, he truly encapsulated the monster he, and Ketterdam, believed him to be.

 Those wonderfully bitter eyes would darken into a depth thought impossible; Aleksa's shadows had a hard time rivalling them. His jaw would tick, a vein poking out on his forehead as his teeth grit together painfully. His knuckles would surely turn white beneath those leather gloves as he curled his slender, scar-bitten fingers around that ugly golden crow's head.

 Jesper shrugged, his long sepia finger tracing a line on the wooden bar, he flinched when a splinter bit at his skin, "Of course he's obsessed with the one villain in town who's paid off the Stadwatch to get away with murder."

 That could have been it, but Aleksa prided herself in being the single person who could see one layer deeper than the rest when it came to the infamous Dirtyhands. Kaz could show irritation, in fact, it flourished on his face in most circumstances... But the pure, unadulterated hatred that blossomed and festered upon hearing the name Pekka Rollins was something else entirely.

 Aleksa hated peonies, she hated rum and that smacking sound people make when they ate; but those were silly, trivial little things. They sparked a feeling in her gut that made her want to strike her knuckles out, or perhaps jostle the shadows in her favour... But Kaz looked ready to take Ketterdam by storm. When Pekka Rollins was mentioned, Kaz Brekker looked ready to rain blood over the entirety of Kerch.

 "No, it's more than that." Inej muttered, "I've seen the way Kaz looks when he says Pekka's name. Kaz wants revenge."

 "She's not wrong." Aleksa finally piped up. Her eyelashes dusted against her cheekbones as she finally heaved a great sigh and sat straighter. "Kaz looks positively murderous when Pekka's mentioned."

 "Kaz always looks murderous, bug." Jesper said, ginning when Aleksa rolled her eyes at his peculiar nickname for her.

 "I feel left out." He had once pouted upon hearing Aleksa grace Inej with her usual 'darling Inej' and Kaz with 'pretty boy', so he'd decided that if he couldn't have a nickname from her, he'd reverse the cards and pick one for her.

 She had been named everything under the sun; little shadow, darkling 2.0, etcetera etcetera... Until one day Aleksa had the misfortune of attracting a rather lustful bumble bee that seemed delighted at her vanilla-scented perfume.

 He had laughed until he cried, watching as the mighty Shadow Summoner dodged and dived from the fuzzy creature, completely unwilling to swat it away or drown it in shadows. He thought they truly had a striking resemblance; tiny, fuzzy, and completely incessant at times. Thus the delightful name of bug had been bestowed upon her.

 "Whilst that may be true, my most favourite sharpshooter; this is different," Aleksa concluded, and she knew she was right. Kaz hardly sought revenge, for so very few crossed him in the first place, and if they did he'd take them down within days... So what had Pekka Rollins done to him? It had to be personal to insight the kind of rage that blazed over his pretty features, it had to be something tumultuous for Kaz to have been biding his time... Aleksa just couldn't fathom what that personal something was.

 Jesper tipped his head, acknowledging the words Aleksa spouted and didn't bother trying to argue. He might have been oblivious at times, choosing to stroke the handles of his guns, imagine an adrenaline spiking fight or the cosiest of gambling dens... But he couldn't, truthfully, admit that he'd missed those looks from his boss. They were positively frightening.

 It was then, after a mere beat of silence between the three pondering crows that a young man approached them. Aleksa had seen him coming, weaving through the bustling pigeons and squawking crows that lined the floor of the club. He was Heleen's little messenger boy.

 He himself had yet to do wrong against herself, or Inej... But it was the knowledge that whenever his face was bathed in the groggy yellow lights of the club; Heleen was demanding Inej's presence.

 The Suli girl had been pinched from her family at an impeccably young age; she had been forced onto a ship whilst her wrists and ankles grew raw from the chains bound around them. The unforgiving sea had whipped at the boat, and all Inej had tasted was the bitter sting of saltwater, even months after she'd laid foot on land once more.

 She'd been forced into Ketterdam, shoved upon a stage for all to see, and for all to bid on. She had no longer been seen as a young girl, a child... But a prize or resource for the money-hungry hands that belong to merchants and brothel owners.

 Heleen had snatched Inej up without hesitation.

 From then on, for years, Inej had been forced to blanket herself in false Suli silks, tie silly little bells to her ankles and do whatever was told to do; whether instructions were from Heleen herself, or the men and women that frequented the brothel house.

 Inej had always been quick and silent on her feet from her days as a performer; she had heard things that were never meant for her ears, she could gather whispers and secrets with ease... And one day her stealth and silence had finally favoured her.

 She had information that would serve a certain Bastard of the Barrel, and Inej — not knowing better — had snuck up on Kaz Brekker.

 He had seen something within her, her skill and her stealth would be useful to him, and so he returned the very next day with a proposition for Heleen. He'd pay off Inej's indenture, and she would become a crow instead of a lynx.

 But her indenture was not yet paid in full; there were still months worth of instalments that Kaz had yet to pass over to the greedy woman that was Tante Heleen; thus from time to time, Inej's presence was summoned and the Suli girl would be forced to walk back through the doors that had ruined her youth.

 Aleksa saw the way Inej's eyes slipped shut the moment she pried the piece of paper open. Then, she rolled her shoulders and her lips thinned into a tight smile, "Of course she calls for me now."

 "Off to the Menagerie?" Jesper questioned, his beady eyes having caught the symbol on the slip of paper; the very symbol that adorned Inej's wrist, "Want company? — Ow!"

 Aleksa had flung her arm out, the back of her hand slamming against his chest. He let out an oof! as he stumbled back, only for his eyes to widen at the question he asked. He almost wanted to ask Aleksa to hit him again, only he didn't want multiple bruises from her eerily strong hands.

 Inej almost laughed, though it was drowned by the... Fear. She hated that feeling; hated that she still felt it bubble in her gut like a swarm of angry bugs threatening to tear her apart. She was the Wraith.

 That fear lessened when warm fingers curled around her unmarked wrist. Aleksa's soothing tones brushed over her, "If you need me, send for me."

 Aleksa knew Inej wouldn't call for her, nor plead for her to join her side; but Aleksa didn't care about that, all she cared for was that Inej knew she could if she wanted to. That she knew Aleksa was there, always.

 "Thank you." The Suli girl uttered, her own fingers cloaking Aleksa's until they both, in unison, pulled away.

 The Shadow Summoner and Sharpshooter watched their Wraith disappear into the crowd; a blur of inky-black hair coiled into a braid swinging behind her. She was soon gone, body obscured by patrons who bustled with mugs of kvas, whiskey and rum.

 "I really didn't mean it like that." Jesper whispered as he turned back to the bar and slumped on his chair.

 Aleksa brought her hand to his back, a single pat directed to his tweed-coated shoulder as she nodded, "I know, so does she."

 Jesper had opened his mouth to reply, only to clamp it shut once more as he stared over the top of Aleksa's head; the Shadow Summoner knew exactly what had stolen his attention.

 The dull and out of sync thud of Kaz's steps were recognisable to Aleksa even over the noise of the rambunctious club. Even over loud and booming voices, the jingling of coins and rustling of Kruge. She didn't look back, rather, she eyed Joe as he rushed fort with Jesper's shot and a small glass of the cherry-flavoured alcohol that Aleksa was so often seen sipping upon.

 Kaz almost paused at the sight of her; long eyelashes framing her eyes, tendrils of loosely curled hair tumbling over her shoulders in billowing waves, her collarbones and a large portion of her chest on show thanks to the four buttons that had been left undone. He sucked in a breath, mouth suddenly dry as he continued.

 "You all right, boss?" Jesper questioned tentatively as he surveyed Kaz.

 His hair was no longer slicked back in a single dark wave; strands of hair hung over his forehead, tickling at his eyelids. His face had a sheen of sweat covering it and a bruise was beginning to blossom on the side of his temple. Yet, as ever, the leather gloves still clung to his fingers.

 Kaz merely sighed, his features contorting once more as he pinched the shot glass from before Jesper. He knocked it back, barely blinking at the burn as it trailed down his throat.

 Jesper gaped, his hand clamping over his mouth as he mourned the loss of yet another drink.

 "No." Kaz finally bit out through clenched teeth. He dared a look at Aleksa as he stood between Summoner and shooter. She hadn't spared him a glance, not that he'd expected her to. He wanted to poke her arm with his cane, to slam his hand on the bar to garner even a flicker of attention, yet he knew it would be futile.

 Aleksa couldn't pry an apology from Kaz, but she would wait him out and hold a grudge unlike any other until something shiny appeared on her pillow, until a new bottle of something sweet-smelling was perched on her cluttered shelves filled with perfumes. Aleksa was as petty as she was pretty.

 He tore his sharp eyes away from the soft skin of her cheekbone, banishing the thoughts of how the Grisha somehow bloomed beneath the dull lights hanging above them, "I've been warned off the job."

 Aleksa did bristle at that. The sipping of her drink paused, yet her eyes remained on the piece of fruit bobbing in her glass.

 "By who?" Asked Jesper.

 "Pekka Rollins."

 Aleksa stilled at the venom that encapsulated the Bastard. Jesper said nothing. The sharpshooter spared a look towards Aleksa, having to crane his neck to look around Kaz as he did so. She met his gaze for a second, her brow climbing higher as though to say 'see what we mean?'

 And he did. Jesper heard the rasp of nothing but rage in Kaz's voice.

 Kaz turned from them both and his hand ducked into his pocket, procuring the old pocket watch he always kept on him. He thumbed a scratch on the metal for a moment, "Sunrise is in five hours."

 Jesper shared another look with Aleksa and narrowed his eyes at the huff that fell from her lips. He sprang from his seat, tossing a glance over his shoulder to be certain Aleksa was joining them, "Yeah, but we're off the job now, right?"

 "Never make decisions out of fear, Jesper. Only out of spite."

 "Oh, Saints." Aleksa muttered beneath her breath before bringing the rim of her glass back to her lips. She swallowed the rest of her liquor in one long gulp.

 Jesper blinked, his eyes hungrily scanning the tables laid out before them. From their higher vantage, they could watch each little pigeon dwell on the floor of their cage. Each crow watched, waiting for something shiny to take in their beaks.

 Aleksa rolled her eyes as the Sharpshooter rubbed his hands together, "Well, greed always worked for me."

 "Says the man in debt."

 "Rude, bug, rude."

 "True, idiot, true."

 Kaz scowled to himself at the teasing tone that had taken to Aleksa's voice upon a light back and forth with Jesper. Kaz looked to the sharpshoot out of the corner of his eye, "Go guard the door."

 "So you're all in delightful moods." Jesper muttered to himself, hardly catching the sneer from Kaz and roll of the eyes from Aleksa as he hopped down the small steps and sauntered his way to the door.

 "Have you cheered up yet?" Kaz finally muttered, his words meant only for Aleksa.

 "Don't push it, I'm not opposed to breaking your nose." Words such as those often came from a place of mocking; Aleksa rather delighted in threatening to ruin Kaz's pretty face, even if she never followed through... This time, however, Aleksa's hand curled into a fist.

 Kaz noticed, of course, and for the first time since the little spat they'd had over Inej, he met her eyes. He'd never admit it aloud, but Kaz Brekker thrived on the fact that for them to see eye to eye, Aleksa had to crane her neck. She could never look up to him without casting her eyes to the sky, or without looking through her lashes.

 It was certainly a sight.

 He swallowed and turned away, not entertaining her threat nor the feeling within his gut.

 The Shadow Summoner, for a moment, had to commend her self control; when he had looked down at her, lights hung high above his head of messy hair whilst shadows flitted over his features, she really didn't know if she wanted to slap his sharp cheekbone or pull him down by the scruff of his neck. Though he probably would have pushed her down a flight of stairs, had either of the two occurred.

 That harrowing sensation that began in her gut and trailed to her heart pulsated again; the longing for something you couldn't ever attain.

 She watched him as he narrowed his eyes at the swarm of people milling around the club in cheerful spirits. Scheming face, Aleksa thought, and had Jesper still been by her side, they'd have muttered those words in unison before laughing happily to themselves.

 "I know that look."

 Kaz snapped his sights to her once more, his voice like music to his ears, "Do you, now?"

 "Mhm," She twirled a strand of hair around her pointer finger, tongue running over her lower lip to free it of the sticky cherry scent her drink had left in its wake. She had no idea that his eyes followed every movement, "That's your 'I have a plan' look, scheming face as we like to call it."

 "We?"

 "Myself, Jesper and Inej."

 "Do you all have a club where you gossip like old crones?"

 Aleksa bit her lip, holding back her laugh. She was still very much annoyed and wasn't quite ready to give him the satisfaction, and delightful fortune, of hearing her laughter, "Yes, actually. It's quite entertaining. you're often a topic of interest."

 His eyes flared, "Am I?"

 "We talk about your silly hair, and your scheming face every Thursday. Three bells sharp."

 He scoffed, and without being able to control his movements, his hand went to his hair and pushed it back.

 She could have killed him for that. She could have throttled him for the way her throat was suddenly dry and bare of any hint of her cherry drink.

 "Her." Kaz divulged with a short nod towards an older woman counting a stack of Kruge in her wrinkled hands, having absolutely no idea that Aleksa's face had sobered as his fingers twisted in his ruffled hair. 

 He loved this game of thiers; watching people and tearing them apart all to get to the centre where the secrets were held, but that wasn't all. Once he'd cracked the code, picked the lock, he'd turn his expectant eyes to Aleksa and wait until she reached the very same conclusion.

 Despite her outward appearance akin to that of a pretty doll that young girls would fawn over, Kaz Brekker knew she had a devious little mind; in fact, he counted on that.

 Aleksa entertained him, just as she always did. She watched the woman for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side as though a puppy had a treat dangling in front of its eyes. Then, she scanned those who copied her actions. Every dealer, every person with more than a few notes of Kruger clutched between greedy fingers.

 Kaz waited, his fingers twitching by his side.

 "The way she counts." Aleksa finally concluded, a mere minute or two after Kaz had brought her attention to his target. Each dealer had their own way of doing things, a step by step plan laid out that was repeated each and every night, be it at the same table or different.

 There were dealers from every part of their bleak little world, and Kaz had taken it upon himself to teach Aleksa just what to look out for; ways to catch people out. She was the least suspecting; a pretty face with wide and twinkling eyes. People looked at her, yes, but never out of suspicion, only out of desire.

 Whilst the thought had stirred something with the Bastard of the Barrel, Kaz couldn't deny that she was the perfect choice.

 Such teachings had clearly paid off, for she looked at him after tearing her eyes from the woman who had a patterned cloth wrapped around her hair, and a stack of notes in her hands, "She's counting like the people who work the mines in Sikursk."

 She said it with confidence, a blossom of pride blooming on her face in the form of a wonderful flush.

 Kaz almost smiled. Instead, he nodded stiffly, "Exactly."

 "Not just pretty faces, are we?"

 Now that pulled an amused huff from him, even despite the way his night had played out. He didn't respond, only sobered his features and promptly ignored the smug look that painted Aleksa's pretty features at his slip up.

 The Shadow Summoner had her hands planted firmly on her hips, lips tugged upwards as she praised herself for catching such a minute detail; if the woman was, in fact, from Sikursk, then she had a way of crossing the fold — they needed to know exactly how she'd done it.

 Thoughts of the situation regarding Inej poked at her pride, and she knew that even if they found an... appropriate way to get across the fold and back, even if the promise of money and fun was staring her straight in the face, she wouldn't leave without Inej.

 Because Inej would never leave without her.

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31-03-2022

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! please remember to vote and comment, let me know what you think as i do require a certain amount of comments before i post another chapter!!

i honestly love this chapter; showing aleksa's dynamic with jesper and at the end with kaz too. kaleksa will, in fact, be the death of me.

actual kaz brekker reaction below <3