of Kerch. The skills she’d acquired as the Wraith would serve her well. But tonight, all she wanted to contemplate was sleep.
She dragged herself up the stairs and crawled into her deliciously comfortable bed. Only when she’d reached over to turn down the lamp did she see the note—a sealed letter in Kaz’s messy scrawl. Sunrise. Fifth Harbor .
Of course he’d managed to get into the locked house, past the servants and the three fools singing at the top of their lungs. It was only fair, she supposed. She’d been coming and going at the Slat, slipping in and out of windows and doorways, leaving bits of information for Kaz when she needed to. She could have simply knocked on his office door, but it was easier this way.
Kaz had changed. The net. Paying her contract. She could still feel the faint touch of his lips on her skin, his bare hands fumbling with the knots of her bandages. Inej had seen the scant glimmer of what he might become if he let himself. She couldn’t bear to see him dressed in armor once more, buttoned back into his immaculate suits and cold demeanor. She wouldn’t listen to him talk as if the Ice Court and everything that came after had been just another job, another score, another bit of advantage to be gained.
But she wouldn’t ignore his note. It was time to put an end to this thing that had never had a chance to begin. She’d tell him what she’d heard about Pekka, offer to share some of her routes and hiding spots with Roeder. It would be over. She turned down the light, and after a long while, she fell asleep with the note clutched in her hand.
It was hard to force herself from bed the next morning. She’d developed bad habits in the last three weeks—sleeping when she wanted to, eating when she liked. Nina would be proud. Being at Wylan’s house felt like she’d entered some kind of enchanted world. She’d been to the house before, when she and Kaz had stolen the DeKappel and then again before the Sweet Reef job. But it was one thing to be a thief in a house and quite another to be a guest. Inej found herself embarrassed by the pleasure of being waited on, and yet, Van Eck’s staff seemed glad to have them there. Maybe they’d feared Wylan would close up the house and they’d all lose their employment. Or maybe they thought Wylan deserved some kindness.
One of the maids had set out a lapis silk robe and a little pair of fur-lined slippers by the side of the bed. There was hot water in the pitcher by the basin, a glass bowl full of fresh roses. She washed, brushed out her hair, rebraided it, then dressed and quietly let herself out of the house—through the front door, of all things.
She kept her hood up and moved swiftly as she made her way to the harbor. The streets were still largely empty, especially at this hour of the morning, but Inej knew she could not let down her guard. Pekka Rollins was gone. Van Eck was in jail. But contracted to the Dregs or not, as long as Kaz had enemies on these streets, she did too.
He was standing on the quay, looking out at the water. His black coat fit snugly across his shoulders, the salt wind off the sea ruffling the dark waves of his hair.
She knew she did not have to announce herself, so she stood next to him, taking in the view of the boats at the docks. It looked like several vessels had arrived that morning. Maybe the city was regaining its rhythm.
“How are things at the house?” he asked at last.
“Comfortable,” she admitted. “It’s made me lazy.” For the briefest moment, Inej wondered if Kaz might be jealous of that comfort or if it was simply alien to him. Would he ever let himself rest? Sleep in? Linger over a meal? She would never know.
“I hear Wylan is letting Jesper play the markets.”
“Very cautiously and with extremely limited sums. Wylan’s hoping to channel his love of risk into something productive.”
“It might work brilliantly or it could end in total disaster, but that’s generally the way Jesper likes to work. At least the odds are better than in any gambling hall.”
“Wylan only agreed after Jesper promised to start training with a Fabrikator. Assuming they can find one. It might take a