Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,33

his pockets, trying to feel along the linings of his trousers.

“Nina?” he’d asked sleepily.

“I’m cold,” she said, her hands continuing their search. She pressed a kiss to his neck, then below his ear. She’d never let herself kiss him this way before. She’d never had the chance. They’d been too busy untangling the skein of suspicion and lust and loyalty that bound them together, and once she’d taken the parem … It was all she could think of, even now. The desire she felt was for the drug, not for the body she felt shift beneath her hands. She didn’t kiss his lips, though. She wouldn’t let parem take that from her too.

He’d groaned slightly. “The others—”

“Everyone is asleep.”

Then he’d seized her hands. “Stop.”

“Matthias—”

“I don’t have it.”

She yanked herself free, shame crawling over her skin like fire over a forest floor. “Then who does?” she hissed.

“Kaz.” She stilled. “Are you going to creep into his bed?”

Nina released a huff of disbelief. “He’d slit my throat.” She wanted to scream her helplessness. There would be no bargaining with Kaz. She couldn’t bully him the way she might have bullied Wylan or plead with him the way she might have managed Jesper.

Fatigue came on suddenly, a yoke at her neck, the exhaustion at least tempering her frantic need. She rested her forehead against Matthias’ chest. “I hate this,” she said. “I hate you a little, drüskelle .”

“I’m used to it. Come here.” He’d wrapped his arms around her and gotten her talking about Ravka, about Inej. He’d distracted her with stories, named the winds that blew across Fjerda, told her of his first meal in the drüskelle hall. At some point, she must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, she was burrowing her way out of a heavy, dreamless sleep, woken by the sound of the tomb door slamming open.

Matthias and Kaz had returned from the university, holes burned into their clothing from some kind of bomb Wylan had made, Jesper and Wylan close on their heels, wild-eyed and soaked from the spring rain that had begun to fall—with a beefy Kaelish-looking farmer in tow. Nina felt like she’d been given some kind of lovely gift from the Saints, a situation mad and baffling enough to actually distract her.

Though the hunger for parem had dulled since last night’s frenzy, it was still there, and she had no idea how she was going to get through the mission tonight. Seducing Smeet had only been the first part of their plan. Kaz was counting on her, Inej was counting on her. They needed her to be a Corporalnik, not an addict with the shakes who wore herself out with the barest bit of tailoring. But Nina couldn’t think about any of that with Colm Fahey standing there mangling his hat, and Jesper looking like he’d rather be eating a stack of waffles topped with ground glass than facing him, and Kaz … She had no idea what to expect from Kaz. Anger, maybe worse. Kaz didn’t like surprises or potential vulnerabilities, and Jesper’s father was one very stocky, wind-chafed vulnerability.

But after hearing Jesper’s breathless—and, Nina suspected, abbreviated—description of how they’d escaped the university, Kaz simply leaned on his cane and said, “Were you followed?”

“No,” Jesper replied with a decisive shake of his head.

“Wylan?”

Colm bristled. “You doubt my son’s word?”

“It isn’t personal, Da,” said Jesper. “He doubts everyone’s word.”

Kaz’s expression had been unruffled, his rough stone voice so easy and pleasant that Nina felt the hair rise on her arms. “Apologies, Mister Fahey. A habit one develops in the Barrel. Trust but verify.”

“Or don’t trust at all,” muttered Matthias.

“Wylan?” Kaz repeated.

Wylan set his satchel down on the table. “If they’d known about the passage, they would have followed us or had people waiting in the printmaker’s shop. We lost them.”

“I counted about ten on the roof,” said Kaz, and Matthias nodded confirmation.

“Sounds right,” said Jesper. “But I can’t be sure. They had the sun at their backs.”

Kaz sat down, his black eyes focused on Jesper’s father. “You were the bait.”

“Pardon, lad?”

“The bank called in your loan?”

Colm blinked, surprised. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact, they sent me a rather sternly worded letter that I’d become an unstable credit risk. They said that if I didn’t pay in full, they would be forced to take legal action.” He turned to his son. “I wrote to you, Jes.” His voice was confused, not accusing.

“I … I haven’t been able to collect mail.” After