NIGHTSHADE | {KAZ BREKKER} on hold

CHAPTER TWO

Mila was an incredible woman. She was an incredibly strong Heartrender. She was cold and made nothing but calculated moves... until she didn't. A small slip lead her to tumble down the slippery slope of feelings and then she found herself attempting to conceal blushing cheeks with a hard gaze and biting words. Fortunately, Ivaanjav Voronin had not been one to be deterred by a few insults.

He was a patient and careful man. As a fabrikator, he needed to be. It was only natural. While Mila was cold as the cadavers she experimented on and as quick to bite as a flame, Ivaanjav was warm and relaxed. Warm like the lab he worked in, with fires burning in the furnaces. Don had received her temperament from him. That was likely for the best when you worked with people like Kaz and some of the idiots in the Dregs. And it was the best when interacting with her mother.

Mila Voronin sat in the wicker chair across from Don with a relaxed expression. Don was anything but relaxed. One slip of the tongue and her mother's hand would twitch and the muscles in Don's body would follow along. Mila was a controlling woman. She disapproved of a lot of things. Particularly those who did not possess abilities like herself. Particularly those like Kaz Brekker.

When Don was a child, Mila had been more lax. She had understood that her family had moved from Ravka to a new and strange place and if her daughter felt more comfortable there because she had become friends with some common rat? Fine. She even attempted to support the boy when he had stared imminent death in the face. He had been a sweet boy then. But then he grew up. Became notorious. Mila was no longer fond of him.

She had told Don to leave him be, he wasn't good for her. He would tarnish the family name. Don hadn't said it to her face but- her mother and father had already tarnished their name before they left Ravka. Nothing could fix it. Where was the harm in it being attached to a gang?

The Voronin family, at least her mother and father's generation, had been widely respected in Ravka. Mila was a high-ranking heartrender in the Dark One's army and the family followed his orders without question. Until that "mutt of a child" as well as the "lantern probably filled with the Dark One's oil" as Mila would say, took everything. When it became more clear that the Darkling was not going to be keeping his power, the Voronin family fled Ravka and headed straight for the island of Kerch.

Now Don was a criminal, Mila was a wanted woman who was presumed dead, Ivaanjav was dead, and the Voronin name had never been less revered. Mila, who had once been beautiful and powerful, was now rotting in a place she hated.

Don had grown to dislike her mother greatly. She was temperamental. Difficult. She reminded her of Kaz. At least Kaz had a heart, no matter how much he attempted to deny it, he cared about people. Mila Voronin did not about anyone or anything except her name and a dead summoner.

That showed when you looked at her. Even now, she sat with perfect posture, chin up, a pin of an eclipsed sun hanging from the chain around her neck. Her clothes were red. She did not wear her kefta, but she stuck to her designated color. The kefta was hanging on the wall behind her like a trophy. A symbol of status in her mind.

Red had become so ingrained in Don that she herself wore it like a uniform, even if it was not actually her color. The purple of Ivaanjav's kefta was hidden away in the wardrobe. It hadn't been seen since the Queen Lady's Plague.

"You want the journal." Mila's voice echoed through the room. It wasn't silent. The sounds of men jeering in the street below flooded through the open window, but it might as well have not been there.

"I could learn more from him than I could by mixing random chemicals in my free time." Rather than considering this might be a lie, Mila nodded in agreement. After the death of her father, Don had learned how quickly her mother hated the mention of her late husband. Maybe it was because she missed him. Don really couldn't be sure. But if you were to stroke the ego, whether it be that of Mila or the late Ivaanjav, her mother was much more accepting.

The implication that Don could not compare to her father's ability as a Fabrikator was one she was used to. For several years, her mother had absolutely destroyed any confidence Don might have had in her ability. Kaz had, rather roughly, ripped the metaphorical hammer from Mila's hands. He took Don from her home, brought her to the slat, and made her a valued member of the Dregs. Don was more than capable of finding answers on her own. But her father's notes would definitely speed up her process.

Mila didn't look entirely convinced, but maybe some sliver of her cold heart was recognizing that this was a request of her flesh and blood. If her daughter wanted the notes in order to further her abilities, then she could find something in her to hand the journal over. Not for her daughter, but for the sake of pride in being a Grisha and knowing her daughter could be powerful as well. Never powerful enough, but powerful.

Mila had paused, her eyes staring at the wall behind Don. Don was starting to get nervous. Visiting her mother was nerve-wracking enough, but now it was so much worse. She was struggling to keep her pulse under control. If her heartbeat were to become too erratic, Mila would ask questions. If she were to start asking questions, Don was going to be in a lot of pain trying to keep quiet.

It's one thing is Don wants the notes for development. It's another if she wants them for the likes of Kaz Brekker. Don's thoughts couldn't help but drift to him at that moment. How would he have gotten the notes? At the moment, he was on his way to the White Rose, so speaking to her mother was something Don had to handle on her own. He would probably send Inej after them when Mila was out, she thought. Unfortunately, she didn't have that option.

Mila's eyes drifted from the wall to Don, taking in the features that were so much like that of Ivaanjav. Don waited with bated breath when her mother finally spoke. "Fine."

Don almost broke into a cheer right then and there. Now all she had to do was grab the book and run over to the d- "-But-" oh no, "They are not for free." The minuscule bit of joy Don had begun to feel faded at those words.

"What is it you're wanting?" Mila drifted across the room to the closet, where she removed a leatherbound journal from a trunk. Her hand drifted over the cover before she clutched the book tightly and turned.

Mila smiled. That cruel, hateful smile disguised by pearly white teeth and full lips. "I will be owed a debt for this." She drifted back over to Don, so close she could feel her breath on her face. "But not by you, by the Brekker boy."

Don couldn't help the way her heartbeat spiked. This was just supposed to be Don getting the journal. Maybe getting her organs attacked once or twice, but that was it. There weren't supposed to be any debts. Let alone owed to Mila Voronin by Kaz.

Mila's eyebrow quirked at the sound of her daughter's heartbeat. Her smile widened further into a feral look.

Don knew someone was going to have hell to pay for this, but she needed the journal. "Fine."

A/N

and here is the new and hopefully improved chapter two

for those of you who didn't see the authors note from before, basically I hated chapters two and three and felt the writing was unbelievably different in terms of quality between those chapters and chapter one and that left me not wanting to write hence why I haven't updated in almost a y e a r. but I finally decided to stop that and do some more writing so here we have an entirely rewritten chapter two which is also resulting in changes to the overall narrative of the story