Bad Blood [six of crows]

【02.0】the mirror knows your secrets

❝ MY BIGGEST BRUISERS," Pekka Rollins said, turning around in his chair to face Jayar. His gaze was hard and cold, but there was something else there too. It may have been a stretch, but Jayar almost wanted to say that he seemed ever so slightly impressed. Of course, he didn't exactly expect Pekka to stand there and admit it. The slight nervous tingle in his stomach gave way to excitement, and he forced himself to stifle it. He'd taken a calculated risk, but a risk all the same. There was no telling whether it would work in his favor. "My biggest bruisers were crippled like that little canal rat in the Dregs. By... who?"

He regarded Jayar with disdain. Jayar made a show of arching his neck to glance about, furrowing his brows together.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure. I don't see anyone."

Rollins slammed meaty hands on the desk with such ferocity that Jay actually leaned back slightly. "Jayar Kade!" he announced, lip curling. Even his green-and-white striped waistcoat seemed to be glowering down at him. "Little nobody runner from⸻Ravka, right? You don't look so Ravkan."

Caught red-handed.

"I'm Kerch. I've done my fair share of traveling," Jayar said smoothly, deciding to play this lightly. It was easiest to lie when you told the truth without telling it, like how Blaze managed to hide in plain sight because what people saw as the most important bits of his story⸻too many lighters, a little bit crazy⸻explained away his persistent affinity for arson. They would never bother to look for anything underneath, because surface answers often sufficed to satisfy curiosity. Jayar himself had undoubtedly been like that once, willing to accept what was given to him. Now he couldn't bear it. Now he always felt implored to dig deeper, and to keep digging, until nothing mattered anymore except for the answer to the question pounding in his head. He didn't know if that was how Pekka worked, but he intended to find out.

"You know, Kade," Pekka said, sneering, "You've been residing in my ranks for approximately a year and yet I can't say I know a thing about you."

Playing dumb won't last you five minutes, taunted Kaz's little boy voice. Jayar smiled through gritted teeth. He knew plenty about Rollins. And Rollins would know plenty about him, too, if he wasn't so self-absorbed that he couldn't even be bothered to remember the names of two boys he'd conned all those years ago. Just another nameless set of marks, another faceless set of easy targets. "You seem to think I have something to hide, Mister Rollins," he said innocently.

"Do you?" Pekka leaned forward on his desk, tapping its surface. "Because everyone has something to hide here in the Barrel."

Jayar considered him closely.

"You don't give a damn about me. So why don't you just get on with what you want?"

Pekka Rollins leaned back, resting his linked hands on his stomach. Everything about him bled with the stench of rich, but not legitimate, mercher rich—Barrel rich. A man who had earned all his pay on the backs of gang fights and conned tourists. It was hard not to respect that sort of rich, the sort that wasn't afraid to do whatever it took to reach its goals. Not trustworthy, but worth something at least. Some kind of determination. Or ruthlessness. Or both. "As a matter of fact, today has made me very curious about you. What can you tell me about jurda parem?"

Jayar was very, very careful to ensure his expression did not change to anything except a mild combination of confusion and curiosity. This was what he was here for. And he'd been right.

His encounter with Nadia had confirmed that parem was threatening to enter the worldwide market, suggesting that there would be multiple parties interested in stopping it. Then Bjerke had told him that the Dregs were taking on a new job unique enough to need to break a prisoner out of Hellgate. Jayar considered himself no strategic genius, but he was certainly smart enough to put two-and-two together. So if the Dregs had been offered a parem-related job, it was only a matter of time before other gangs were presented with the same offer. Blaze had provided him with the perfect opportunity to catch Pekka's attention. It had been a gamble entertaining his desire to beat up some of Pekka's favorite muscle, but here he was, and the gamble had paid off. He had Rollins right where he wanted him, under the guise of an elusive crew member desperate for attention. He exhaled as discreetly as possible, relieved.