Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,133

you.”

Now he rose from his chair, unable to sit still any longer, and paced the length of the room. Jesper felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t be here anymore. His heart hurt. His head hurt. Guilt and love and resentment were all tangled up inside him, and every time he tried to unravel the knot in his gut, it just got worse. He was ashamed of the mess he’d made, of the trouble he’d brought to his father’s door. But he was mad too. And how could he be angry at his father? The person who loved him most in the world, who had worked to give him everything he had, the person he’d take a bullet for any day of the week?

This action will have no echo. “I’m going to … I’ll find a way to make amends, Da. I want to be a better person, a better son.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a gambler, Jesper. I certainly didn’t raise you to be a criminal.”

Jesper released a bitter huff of laughter. “I love you, Da. I love you with all my lying, thieving, worthless heart, but yes, you did.”

“What?” sputtered Colm.

“You taught me to lie.”

“To keep you safe.”

Jesper shook his head. “I had a gift. You should have let me use it.”

Colm banged his fist against the table. “It’s not a gift. It’s a curse. It would have killed you the same way it killed your mother.”

So much for the truth. Jesper strode to the door. If he didn’t get shut of this place, he was going to jump right out of his skin. “I’m dying anyway, Da. I’m just doing it slow.”

Jesper strode down the hall. He didn’t know where to go or what to do with himself. Go to the Barrel. Stay off the Stave. There’s a game to be had somewhere, just be inconspicuous. Sure, a Zemeni as tall as a modestly ambitious tree and carrying a price on his head wouldn’t be noticed at all. He remembered what Kuwei had said about Grisha who didn’t use their power being tired and sickly. He wasn’t physically sick, that was true enough. But what if Matthias was right and Jesper had a different kind of sickness? What if all that power inside him just liked to bounce around looking for someplace to go?

He passed an open doorway, then doubled back. Wylan was sitting at a white lacquer piano in the corner, listlessly plunking out one solitary note.

“I like that,” he said. “Has a great beat—you can dance to it.”

Wylan looked up, and Jesper sauntered into the room, hands swinging restlessly at his sides. He circled its perimeter, taking in all the furnishings—purple silk wallpaper flocked in silver fishes, silver chandeliers, a cabinet full of blown-glass ships. “Saints, this place is hideous.”

Wylan shrugged and played another note. Jesper leaned on the piano. “Wanna get out of here?”

Wylan looked up at him, his gaze speculative. He nodded.

Jesper stood up a little straighter. “Really?”

Wylan held his gaze. The air in the room seemed to change, as if it had become suddenly combustible.

Wylan rose from the piano bench. He took a step toward Jesper. His eyes were a clear, luminous gold, like sun through honey. Jesper missed the blue, the long lashes, the tangle of curls. But if the merchling had to be wrapped up in a different package, Jesper could admit he liked this one plenty. And did any of that really matter when Wylan was looking at him like that—head tilted to the side, a slight smile playing over his lips? He looked almost … bold . What had changed? Had he been afraid Jesper wouldn’t make it out of the scrape on Black Veil? Was he just feeling lucky to be alive? Jesper wasn’t sure he cared. He’d wanted distraction, and here it was.

Wylan’s grin broadened. His brow lifted. If that wasn’t an invitation …

“Well, hell,” Jesper muttered. He closed the distance between them and took Wylan’s face in his hands. He moved slowly, deliberately, kept the kiss quiet, the barest brush of his lips, giving Wylan the chance to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He drew closer.

Jesper could feel the heat from Wylan’s body against his. He slid his hand to the back of Wylan’s neck, tilting his head back, asking for more.

He felt greedy for something. He’d wanted to kiss Wylan since he’d first seen him stirring chemicals in that gruesome tannery—ruddy curls damp with the heat, skin so delicate