Our Fractured Souls | Kaz Brekker

[14]

14

Viktorya

Viktorya was quickly thrown against the side of a stack of crates beside her and Inej as the shockwave of the explosion riddled the docks.

She hit hard against the metal wall, and was pressed there for a good long minute, her ears ringing like mad, her nose singed by the sharp stench of gunpowder.

"Vik. Viktorya, can you hear me?" asked the worried, underwater voice of Inej behind her.

"Yes." She groaned, picking herself up and shaking away the ringing in her head.

"Are you okay?" The spymaster asked.

"M'fine." she uttered, cupping her forehead for the barest second as she staggered up. "Where's Kaz, where's the others?"

Inej shook her head. "I don't know. But we've got to move."

Inej helped her up the crates, both girls moving like scrambling insects escaping a death trap. The view from above was more than disturbing.

The Dregs were outnumbered, and there were men working around their left and right flanks. Kaz had been right to keep their real point of departure a secret from the others.

Someone had talked.

Viktorya knew Inej and Zahra tried to keep tabs on the team, but someone else in the gang could have easily snooped.

Kaz said it himself all the time; everything in Ketterdam leaked, including the Slat and the Crow Club.

"Vik, let's split up." Inej's voice took her from her thoughts.

Viktorya turned to look at her. "Yeah." She agreed, nodding into the shadows as the Wraith melted into them and vanished.

Viktorya stood and raced over the tops of the crates, making her way down the row, seeking targets below.

This was her favourite part. The slinking, the agility, she was good at seeking targets and causing destruction. It made her feel at home, level.

None of these rats expected a threat coming from above.

She slid to the ground behind two men that were firing toward Nina, she said a silent prayer as she slit one throat with the jagged blade of Sankt Kho, then gouged the back of the next.

When the second man dropped, she crouched beside him and rolled up his right sleeve -- a tattoo of a hand, its first and second fingers cut off at the knuckle.

Black Tips.

Was this retribution for Kaz's showdown with Geels, or something more? They shouldn't have been able to raise these kinds of numbers.

She moved on to the next tower of crates, following a mental map of the other attackers' positions.

First, she took down a girl holding a massive unwieldy rifle, then skewered the man who was supposed to be watching her flank.

His tattoo showed five birds in a wedge formation: Razorgulls.

Just how many gangs were they up against?

The next corner, unfortunately, was blind.

Should she scale the cargo containers to check her position or risk what might be awaiting her on the other side? She took in a deep breath, sank low, and slipped around a corner to lunge.

Tonight her saints were kind, two men were firing on the docks with their backs to her. She dispatched them with two quick thrusts of her blade.

Six bodies, six lives taken.