The first time Inej had seen him, she had known he was a killer.
She'd heard about Dirtyhands, Per Haskell's rabid dog lieutenant, just as everyone else in the Barrel had. Inej had been living in a pleasure house, not under a rock.
She had heard about the things he did and the people he killed, blackmailed, and robbed.
And then there was his visits. Kaz never visited any of the girls at the Menagerie, House of Exotics. But he paid Heleen Van Houden for information, any political secrets and investment tips anyone babbled about when drunk on bliss.
Any of the girls would have been happy to take him up, and Inej saw them track him with their eyes, whisper about him as he disappeared into the parlor. She would wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted. Heleen would purposely have the girls wave to him, try to entice him into spending the night. A man like Kaz Brekker had the coin to spend on Heleen's girls.
But he was a ghost, and during her time working for him Inej learned that she could be a phantom, holding him for ransom.
Every time he visited, he would leave a trail of disappointment in his wake. Inej wasn't certain he knew—or would care if he did—that the girls were interested in him. A man like Kaz Brekker dealt in information, a currency much more effective than money.
Some boys tried too hard, something Inej noticed when they came to visit her and the other girls.
Kaz didn't seem to try at all. He was younger than the men at the Menagerie, who were mostly above the age of thirty. Somehow he always seemed like much more of a man then them. Possibly because he never tried to rape any of them, or paid to.
Perhaps that was a factor in his appeal to the other girls. Some of the men who visited were disgustingly old.
Inej had only been fourteen when the slavers had sold her to Heleen. Then she was fifteen, and looking at a miserable dozen or so years there ahead of her.
So she had approached him.
I can help you, she'd said.
He hadn't so much as looked at her.
The next day he'd been waiting in Heleen's parlor, waiting for her, to change her life. Waiting to make her the Wraith.
Inej could have seen nothing better, and now she could keep him forever if she wished. Like a vendetta.
When a man visited her, she could tell how it was going to go. She learned the signs—did this one want fear, panic, submission, or silence?
She could see how this was going to go with Kaz, too. If he touched her, he'd never have to be alone. Because with Kaz it was different. It wasn't forced, and both were very careful of each other's boundaries.
Sometimes the men at the Menagerie had liked an audience, and others could pay to watch. With Kaz, no one had to know. Not even their closest friends.
In the middle of the night in my dreams, you should see the things we do. In the middle of the night in my dreams, I know I'm going to be with you. We can take our time. We can take all the time in the world.
Outside of their dreams, they were not ready for anything. Yet. Or so she hoped.
Inej truly hoped one day they could heal enough to be what both of them wanted.
She'd known she was a robber, first time he had seen her.
Once he'd seen her, he understood how to keep seeing her. No one saw the Wraith, but he always knew she was there.
Now she could steal hearts, run off, and never say sorry.
But if she was a thief, he could join the heist and they could move to an island somewhere far away from Ketterdam and it's cold, damp streets. Somewhere far away from the Barrel and West Stave.
When it came to Kaz, every lover—if they could be called such—she'd known in comparison had been a failure.
She hadn't known their names to begin with, though she could certainly learn if she wished. It was one of the perks of Kaz—in every sense other than legally—owning the city.
Inej would never be the same since she'd met Kaz. He had given her a knife, all of her knives. He had told her she was dangerous and showed her how to be. Kaz taught her to spy and steal and kill, and though she'd been hesitant to do so at first, she could do all without batting an eye now. She could actively want to, something she'd never dreamed of, even at the Menagerie.
She could see how this thing with Kaz was going to go. If he could take down his armor, take off his gloves, and touch her as a whole man—or as close to it as he could get to it—he would never have to be alone. If he could give her his best, she would never want to leave. She didn't even want to now.
Now they were rich—Wylan and Jesper together and tucked into their mansion on the Geldstraat, Kaz sequestered in his attic office at the Slat, comfortably and effectively running the city, and her, his Wraith queen to stand at his side, to sit on his windowsill feeding the crows.
So long as they took it slowly, they could be ready for anything to come.
Pekka Rollins was gone, Jan Van Eck was gone, and Heleen Van Houden was gone.
Pekka Rollins was off in the Wandering Isle, tending to his beloved son, never to return to the city he'd once ruled.
Jan Van Eck had been killed in a prison riot in Hellgate after the mediocre defense team his son had put together had lost their case. His considerably younger second wife Alys was raising their child in the countryside with her music teacher, Mister Bajan. Sometimes she would visit her stepson and his mother, who had moved back in with Wylan after he'd freed her from the asylum Van Eck had locked her in. Marya Hendriks was often seen painting with her son outside their mansion, or visiting with Jesper, her delightful son-in-law.
Heleen Van Houden had been run out of business after the fake plague Nina and Kaz had created. She'd been chased out of the city by her climbing debts and lack of lodging for her girls. The 'indentures' had been freed and found work elsewhere in Ketterdam now that she was gone. She'd been boarding a ship to Ravka to ply her trade in the recovering country when she'd gone mysteriously missing. No one had seen Kaz or Inej for the following two days, but on the third when they returned, Heleen's mutilated body was discovered in a nearby warehouse with the appearance of one who'd been extensively tortured for a lengthy period of time. No one could prove anything, and since Wylan Van Eck—a respectable member of the Merchant Council that ran the city—gave both Kaz and Inej solid alibis, no one was charged.
Though the city coffers certainly missed the high taxes they paid, the Staves missed the rent they paid every month, and the men of Ketterdam missed the high quality entertainment the three of them provided, they were the only ones. No one had liked Rollins or his control. No one had liked Van Eck's reformer policies. No one had liked Heleen's way of showing off her wealth at every turn. They were supposed to shut up and provide, like everyone else.
To Kaz and Inej, they were supposed to shut up and die, which they all did eventually.
They had done that, together. They'd banished those who had hurt them badly, never to return.
Kaz and Inej might have been perfectly ready for Rollins, Van Eck, and Tante Heleen, but none of the three of them had been ready for Kaz and Inej.
Ketterdam was not ready for Dirtyhands or his Wraith. It never would be.
This was their city, now; they intended for it to remain so.
Had Inej known the gravity if the situation when she'd first seen Kaz? Had he known when she first snuck up on him in the Menagerie parlor?
Perhaps she really had known how it was going to go the second she saw him.
Perhaps not.
After all, no one could ever be ready for them.
No one was ready for it.
For what they became.
