KAZ
No thief worth their salt goes in through the front door. Despite the invitation, I doubt Wylan wants the upper class society milling about to know he's invited Dirtyhands among them.
Instead, I use my in-depth knowledge of the Van Eck estate to chose a rarely used window and slide into an empty bedroom.
It's not really breaking and entering if you're invited, right? Not that I care. I head to the ballroom and manage to make my way up the servant's entrance without anyone the wiser. When I arrive, the press of bodies is so thick, I can barely move. I skirt the edges, staying as close to the wall as possible. The music is loud and laughter floats along with the notes. I work my way around the room, planning to get eyes on Jesper and Inej, when Ashiana appears.
"Kaz! You came!" I doubt her surprise is faked. I know her interest isn't. Her eyes take in my new suit and I tip my hat to her. As beautiful as she is, nothing about her attracts anything but that from me.
"Evening, Ashiana. I heard you were staying with the Van Eck's. Quite a step up, isn't it?" She blushes.
"Only temporarily. Just until Inej is..." she trails off and I raise an eyebrow. Now she's hit on the only topic she knows could interest me. She looks at me nervously. "Inej is fine. She's just had a difficult recovery. I've just stayed to make sure she stays healthy," she finishing, sounding guilty. Were I a betting man, I'd put money on the fact that she has no intention of leaving until she thoroughly outstays her welcome. It isn't surprising. The lower areas of Ketterdam have nothing on the Van Eck estate.
"I'm happy to hear it," dismissal apparent in my tone.
"She's at the front." I look back briefly. "She's in the receiving line. She's the one in the white and gold dress," I nod my thanks and continue on. Will I recognize my Wraith in white instead of black, armed with nothing but a smile? I don't have to wonder for long. I'm almost to the entrance when Jesper and Inej emerge, heading for a refreshment table in the corner.
I can see immediately that something is wrong. If Jesper's deep look of concern wasn't enough, Inej's shell shocked face convinces me. I move toward her, pushing past people without thought of disguising my presence. I see her disappear behind a plant, following a woman through the servant's entrance.
A woman huffs as I shoulder my way past her. A man mutters about rudeness as I speed by. Another making a loud comment about cripples with canes. All in one ear and out the other. My heart races and my mind urges me forward, telling me I have to get to Inej now. When I reach the servant's door, I'm almost run over by a man carrying a delicious-smelling tray full of some kind of meat. He pauses, blocking my way.
"I'm sorry, sir. You cannot go in there." I tip my face up. If my glare wasn't enough, his face blanches with recognition. "I'm sorry, Mr. Brekker. I didn't know it was you." I continue forward, ignoring his apologies.
I head down the stairs as quickly as the space allows. I almost past the small staircase on my right without thought. Something gives me pause and I look up at it. A woman descends swiftly, barely glancing at me as she passes and heads farther down to the kitchen. I turn, climbing the stairs carefully. I'm not sure why I've taken this detour but something tells me Inej wouldn't want to be trapped downstairs. The door that bars my way is locked but not for long. It clicks open and I'm out.
The air smells sweet here. I look up at the sky. The full moon hangs low, pale yellow tonight instead of white. Clouds cover the bottom but they're so thin that even the low light makes them appear to be lit from the inside.
I step carefully along the white stones, traveling down the path as quietly as I can, listening for any indication that Inej is with me in the garden. Music weaves it's way down from a ballroom window that is open somewhere above. The moonlight makes the cascading white blossoms of the weeping cherries glow. I'm nearly to the center of the garden when I hear it. The swift intake of breath, held for one second, two, and then another taken immediately after the first is released, as though trying stymie intense emotions. It isn't like Inej to make any noise at all and I rush forward. I underestimate her reaction to my approach and she almost flees with something like a yelp and a cry.
"Inej, stop." My voice comes out low and I'm not sure if she's heard. It becomes clear that she has when she turns and throws herself at me. I'm unprepared but manage to stay upright as her hands grip the front of my jacket, her face turn into my shirt. I realize she is crying, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears.
"Shhh," I'm unused to this. She's always been so strong. It's been years since I've truly taken on the role of comforter - for anyone. I wrap my arms around her, cane clattering to the ground beside her. My hands gently rub her back and it's several moments before she gets a grip on her emotions. When she does, she steps back, wiping her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I-" she hesitates and I step close again.
"It's alright. No need to apologize. Just-" I tilt her face up to mine. "What happened? I've never seen-" I pause, unsure how to continue. She shakes her head.
"I- there was- when I was in the line- a man-" darkness threatens to overtake me as she confirms that someone caused this. I take a deep breath, trying to tamp down the anger. I need to be calm, for her. She covers her face with her hands, unable or unwilling to say more.
"You don't need to say anything. Just breathe." She tries and that is when I notice just how short of breath she is. No matter how much air she takes, it doesn't seem to be enough. A shaft of moonlight, directed from above by the clouds, shines on us and I see she is shivering. Without forethought, I pull my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. She grabs the edges and pulls it close. Another few minutes and she seems to calm although her shaky breaths and slight shivers give away how tenuous the tranquility is. She slowly removes my jacket and, in one motion, puts it around my shoulders. I slip my arms in and she adjusts it, smoothing the lapels when she deems it to be in its proper place.
"Better?" My voice is barely more than a whisper. She nods and moves to put space between us. Although she's only a couple inches away, I already lament the distance. It's so rare for me to be so close to someone and not be overwhelmed by sickness.
"I didn't think you'd come." She says softly.
"I didn't plan to," I admit.
"How did I miss you? You must have come through the receiving line when I-" I chuckle.
"Do you honestly think I came through the receiving line?" Her smile is watery at best but at least she's not staring at the ground.
"I suppose not. Should I make plans to lock any windows on my way up to bed?" I scoff.
"You know I wouldn't be so sloppy as to leave a window unlocked." This draws a soft noise out of her that is almost a laugh.
"Of course not." She looks up at the sky and I get a moment to admire her silhouetted in the moonlight. Her white dress seems to shine, giving off a light of its own. "Thank you," she says although she will not meet me eyes. I don't acknowledge her thanks, content to simply look at her. Haven't I wished for a night, just like this? Alone with her, under the cloak of darkness. She turns her face to me and I'm struck by how much I want to bring her close to me again.
Why not? Who is there to stop me? Still, I hold back. I hear the tune change in the music as a waltz starts and I'm struck by a ridiculous idea. Before I can convince myself not to, the words are out of my mouth.
"Do you want to dance?" She seems just as taken aback as I am.
"I-" she looks toward the house, as though checking for prying eyes. She turns to me and tugs me toward a small structure behind her. "Yes. Yes, I want to dance with you." The emphasis falls on the last word and take off my hat, bowing to her with a grin. I straighten and follow her, pulling her toward me with confidence as we arrive at the gazebo.
When you live with a leg that constantly causes you pain, you learn your limits. I know I cannot move the way a man should when paired with such an exquisite partner. I'm lucky in that the swing crowding the space doesn't provide much room for dancing anyway. Her right hand finds my left, both our hands safe in their gloves. The other goes almost to my shoulder. I wrap my right arm around her waist, using it to push her gently forward so there is no space between us. Our bodies meld together as I hold her close to me. We move slowly at first, getting used to each other in a way we never have before; in a way I've longed for too often in the last few years. I sigh, the only reaction to the pleasure that I'll allow myself.
As the tempo increases, I do the unthinkable and loosen my grip, lifting my hand. She spins, her dress flowing around her like water. Then she's back in my arms and I relish the proximity. We dance together, each innately recognizing the minute queues the other gives, as one song passes, then another. I never want to let her go.
The next song carries a different kind of rhythm. Slower. The notes hanging heavy in the air. Her movements change too. Where the music before was fast, her body matched it. Now, her eyes fall shut. In silence, she gently sways. My hands drape loosely around her hips; not restraining but keeping us together all the same. Each twist and turn seems almost sultry; quiet yet passionate. She moves out of the circle of my arms and I yearn to bring her back. Her hands lift over her head, swirling together in response to each note like birds in the air. The air slides past me as she twirls away. We're not touching and yet it feels as though every nerve is on alert. Our eyes meet, snapping together like two predators in the dark. The distance becomes too far for the fierceness of that stare.
I grab her right hand and spin her halfway around, my arms folding across her body. Her back to my chest, my lips nearly against her neck. I don't dare to touch. We stay together for a few seconds and then I spin her again, our bodies meeting face-to-face as I reel her in. Her body arches into mine and I run my hand down her side, tracing the taut curve.
Too soon, the music stops. The players must be taking a break. We stop too, bodies close, and I notice just how short a distance it is between her lips and mine. She stills and I know she is giving me the chance to step away, the chance to avoid the touch of her skin to mine. I lean forward, my lips nearly on hers. We exchange breaths, each one feels like a barest brush. But it's not and I can't stand the distance. I can feel the waters, barely restrained, threatening to overtake me.
I let out a breath through my nose, a surrender. I can't do it. I start to move away when I feel her hand release mine. It comes up and hovers centimeters from my cheek. I can sense each finger, her palm encased in the long evening gloves I chose for her. My hand follows hers and comes to rest against hers, pressing it to my face. With deft fingers, I slip open the buttons at her wrist. Lightening fast, lest my mind catch up, I press a kiss where the buttons have revealed an inch of skin. She sucks in a breath and then I am backing away, afraid of the sickness that hinders each possibility with her. My arms feel bereft without her. The warmth of her body lingering, imprinted on mine.
"Inej-" her name somewhere between a whisper and a groan. I want to pull her back to me, press my lips to hers, explore every inch of her body, make her moan like she does in my fantasies. She steps close once again. I wrap my arms around her, giving in. I hesitate, her exposed shoulder before me. The waters have held back thus far. How much farther am I willing to go? Carefully, I place my hands at her waist, holding her steady. I look at her, our eyes meet and hold. I pause, unsure again. She decides for me as she leans forward.
"It's alright," she whispers, her breath tickling my ear. In that moment, there's so much, too much. She waits, unmoving, wholly motionless as only she can be. I move one hand up to her neck, cradling the back of her head. I tilt her head to one side, the length of her neck open to me. I huff a sigh softly, gathering my courage.
Then my lips are on her neck, swiftly placing kisses from her jawline to her shoulder, teeth scraping her collarbone. There is the moan, the soft sound I desired to evoke. I can't take it anymore. Even though her skin is soft and warm, the waters rush in and I have to move away, my breathing ragged. I close my eyes, holding steady, pushing back, trying to regain control.
That's when the screaming begins.