Drowning (Kaz Brekker)

xi - Old Wounds

SHE SHOULD'VE KILLED HER. Asra didn't know what in hell possessed her to let her sister live, but she regretted it.

She sat on the bathroom counter, shirtless, stitching her shoulder back together. Her fingers were slick with her blood but Asra refused to think about it. The needle was sharp and stinging and gave her something to focus on. Nina had offered to Heal her, but Asra had refused as politely as she could while subtly fearing for her life without even knowing why. The sister known as the Witch had implanted a healthy paranoia around Grisha in Asra. And while she could usually grit her teeth and get on with it, she wasn't in the mood to challenge her demons today. She just wanted to sleep.

Kaz didn't say anything as he came in. Of course he didn't. Asra watched out the corner of her eye as he took off his coat, tossed it beside the sink, turned on the hot water. He washed his hands, face, ran a dripping hand through his hair. Asra went back to sewing up her shoulder. The scratches would scar, but she'd long since stopped caring.

Kaz could see, she realised suddenly. Her shirt lay in bloody tatters beside her. She wore no vest over her bra. He'd never seen her so exposed, physically anyway. An odd feeling crawled up in her stomach that made her hands feel shaky.

"Your sister's nice." Kaz said, eyes in the sink, hands gripping the side.

What did he want? Asra swallowed, made herself talk. "One word for it."

She looked down at her shoulder, continuing her work. She'd already stitched up the bullet hole in her thigh and the other scrapes and burns on her legs. The Witch had gotten better at flames, it seemed. She'd cut up the remaining towels and used them as bandage. There was just her shoulder to stitch and bandage now.

Kaz still wasn't looking at her. She could always feel his gaze, sending soft shudders down her spine. She couldn't feel it now. "I'm going to the Slat. Wait until six bells. If I'm not back, try to get everyone out of the city. There's a discoloured brick in the wall behind the Crow Club. Behind it you'll find twenty thousand kruge. It's not much, but it should be enough to bribe a few stadwatch grunts."

Asra looked over at him. As if sensing her gaze, he met it. "You're going alone?"

"They'll be looking for any signs of weakness. Inej showed me the best route across the roofs." Kaz said simply.

He was right. She knew he was right. She still didn't like it.

"If it goes wrong?"

"It already has."

"I don't want you to die."

"I'll do my best."

"Please, Kaz." What was she even begging for? To go with him? She could hardly stand. She'd only be a hindrance, a liability. Still. "Take someone with you. Inej. Just in case. She can wait and see if she's needed."

"No. If it goes wrong I die and you take the money and leave. You're doing it anyway."

"I have to. I don't want to." Did he honestly think this was her first choice?

"What we want doesn't matter right now, Asra." He looked away. "Your arm is bleeding."

She looked down. The bandage had come lose, the stitches torn in places. Asra swore in a language that had no name and tugged the bandage off her arm. It was awkward, but she could do it.

Kaz was watching her. "I can help you."

He shouldn't have offered. She shouldn't have nodded. He didn't touch and she didn't except help. And yet there they were. She was handing him a bandage as he stepped into the space between her legs. There it was again, that feeling in her stomach. Some cocktail of terror and trepidation that made her breath hitch as she looked him in the eye.