TROUBLE , kaz brekker

v. a business man worth his salt.

CHAPTER FIVE  

"WE'RE HERE TO SEE DRESSEN." Kaz's voice cut through the still night faster than one of Inej's blades.

They reached the gates in perfect harmony, their formation a well practiced routine. Kaz was the figure head, in all his silent broodiness and with both Jesper and Echo at his sides, they couldn't have looked more like a group of rag-tag criminals from the Barrel. That was all part of the charade. They were children, fresh faced, blue eyed and mere specks of dirt to these world-weary businessmen. It's what they relied on, that people always underestimated what they couldn't understand.

So it came as little surprise when they were halted in their track by an unimpressed doorman.

"You're not with Pekka's crew." He muttered darkly.

Kaz reached into his coat and pulled out a very familiar purse. "And you're not in Pekka's pocket anymore if you don't owe him." He threw it with surprising accuracy through the barred gate, right into the hands of the doorman, who gaped at the coins within.

They were let through without another word.

"Where'd you get that coin?" The sharpshooter hissed. With his long strides it was easy for him to catch up to Kaz, who had put himself several paces ahead of the rest. But the boy didn't answer, just pushed on forward until a short cry brought them to a halt.

"Hey! One of these has got a hole in it!"

Kaz's infallible seriousness faltered and he ushered them into the safety of Dressen's stone walls, keeping his distance even with the urgency in his tone. Bastard of the Barrel indeed. Trust him make use of forged coin he had seized from the club not even twelve hours ago. He was efficient, that was for sure.

Also, impossibly arrogant. Kaz walked on Dressen's polished floors as if he owned them, his cane echoing through the marble walls and announcing his presence long before their group made it to the door.

They had barely crossed the threshold before the Merchant spoke. His tone was dismissive, brisk, not exactly etiquette for these situations. Then again, when was anything in Ketterdam considered polite. "One look and I can tell. Criminals." A murderer, a sharpshooter, a wraith and a traitor. Dressen had no idea how right he was. "I'm not meeting anyone until midnight."

Kaz set his cane onto the floor with a dull thud. "We heard you needed a Heartrender."

Milana raised her hand and waved to their audience and Echo fought the urge to groan. This was not the Orchid, where a pretty smile could open doors you didn't even know existed. Flirtations were an extravagance that was lost on the Merchants, especially ones like Dressen, the ones that were motivated less by the pleasures of the flesh than the pleasures of profit. The redhead turned and hissed. "Put it down."

Reclining in his chair, Dressen's gaze lay heavy on the Crows, his beady eyes holding a surety that his withering body couldn't. "Alright. She stays, the rest of you. Out."

Footsteps resounded through the drawing room as the Heartrender stepped forward, only to be stopped by the impeccable reflexes and heavy wooden cane of Kaz. He turned back to the Merchant. "She stays. And we have an exclusive on this job."

"Mr Brekker," Echo could almost hear the mockery in his voice. But it was nothing new. Many fools had made the mistake of underestimating Kaz Brekker. Not many lived to regret it. "No businessman worth his salt hires his first applicant."

"No, no. I understand." Kaz feigned sympathy with a furrowed brow, but Echo had known him long enough to know that empathy wasn't one of his multitude of skills. He slanted her a look, so slight she almost missed it and cocked his head. Echo hummed and stepped closer to Dressen, shifting his attention to her.