[ from the moment nikolai seemingly returns to himself, kaz knows he has to cobble together the right words to discuss what happened. his nightmare-addled brain suffers a momentary distraction in the form of nikolai thieving the kaleidoscope again. another pang. he supposes one night of good behaviour isn’t enough to win nikolai’s favour back. doubtful that he has another one in him, so really, best to get this over with — eyes studious in their search for black wisps, spine coiled with tension.
then, nikolai’s here. touching him with cold hands — a temperature change from the air, not the demon — unless — a kiss he freezes under, unable to return it with claws in his flesh — nikolai’s true smile, unmistakable — fleeting, curdling — even now that nikolai sees, there’s more to explain, including things he intended to share and details he’d rather omit.
kaz’s expression flattens as nikolai quickly changes course, narrowing onto a well-worn track, taken in novyi zem and fjerda both. horror, anger, disappointment (the last smarts more than he’ll admit, even to himself). that must be him. the questions come too quick to warrant answers, so he waits for them to stall, brows lifting. ]
[ evenly, ] Because it didn’t happen last night. It happened just now. [ his scowl deepens. ] You might find allowing me to answer your first question would save you from chasing an uncharitable line of inquiry. [ nevermind that he did withhold information. still, hard to say whether the first incident was the creature or his own demons, encroaching on his life the way they always do. only the physical evidence of injury proves outside interference. ] And since I don’t know what triggered it, I thought it wiser to calm you before provoking your bloodthirsty lodger into eating my crows. [ at the sound of conflict, they’d be up the stairs in seconds, canon fodder for the demon seeking to make a point without killing kaz brekker himself. he pushes to the edge of the bed and snags nikolai’s wrist before he can stagger farther from him. ]
You can check me for injuries now and curse me later. [ a note of pleading colours his voice. they don’t have the luxury of giving into fear or rage yet, with a third party poised to intervene. ] Just stay with me — because this is worse than either of us thought. [ no doubt revealing that he suspected the demon’s involvement in nikolai’s banishment. why else would zoya send her second so far from the throne? she sent the demon to your city, your bed. anger sparks low in his gut. he knows then: they kept something from you. immediately, it’s difficult to take his own advice and stay present. his rasp sharpens, abrading his throat. ] It spoke with your voice. It moved with your person. [ his thumb presses down on nikolai’s pulse, hard enough to irritate the tender skin, and pulls him closer, between his legs. ] In the dark, I couldn’t see if there were shadows on your skin. [ kaz’s hand cups his cheek, thumb dragging down where black lines once disrupted his constellation of freckles. ] This was the only tell. A coldness where you should have been warm. [ a beat. he swallows. ] And you know I find that more difficult to pick up on than most. [ doesn’t know how to disclose his other weakness, the things he sees and hears that aren’t real but feel real and invariably muddy his ability to distinguish nikolai’s voice from the one in his head. you can’t. it’s a level of brokenness that no one else should risk cutting themselves on. worse, it’s a tool for the demon’s already considerable arsenal.
grip vicelike on his wrist, kaz traces the underside of nikolai’s jaw. his eyes soften and harden in the same breath, decision made. ]
So I need you to confirm who I’m speaking to now, Nikolai. Definitively. [ in the span of a heartbeat, kaz has the tip of a knife against his throat, released from the holster inside his wrinkled dress shirt. ] Or you won’t be allowed out of here.
no subject
then, nikolai’s here. touching him with cold hands — a temperature change from the air, not the demon — unless — a kiss he freezes under, unable to return it with claws in his flesh — nikolai’s true smile, unmistakable — fleeting, curdling — even now that nikolai sees, there’s more to explain, including things he intended to share and details he’d rather omit.
kaz’s expression flattens as nikolai quickly changes course, narrowing onto a well-worn track, taken in novyi zem and fjerda both. horror, anger, disappointment (the last smarts more than he’ll admit, even to himself). that must be him. the questions come too quick to warrant answers, so he waits for them to stall, brows lifting. ]
[ evenly, ] Because it didn’t happen last night. It happened just now. [ his scowl deepens. ] You might find allowing me to answer your first question would save you from chasing an uncharitable line of inquiry. [ nevermind that he did withhold information. still, hard to say whether the first incident was the creature or his own demons, encroaching on his life the way they always do. only the physical evidence of injury proves outside interference. ] And since I don’t know what triggered it, I thought it wiser to calm you before provoking your bloodthirsty lodger into eating my crows. [ at the sound of conflict, they’d be up the stairs in seconds, canon fodder for the demon seeking to make a point without killing kaz brekker himself. he pushes to the edge of the bed and snags nikolai’s wrist before he can stagger farther from him. ]
You can check me for injuries now and curse me later. [ a note of pleading colours his voice. they don’t have the luxury of giving into fear or rage yet, with a third party poised to intervene. ] Just stay with me — because this is worse than either of us thought. [ no doubt revealing that he suspected the demon’s involvement in nikolai’s banishment. why else would zoya send her second so far from the throne? she sent the demon to your city, your bed. anger sparks low in his gut. he knows then: they kept something from you. immediately, it’s difficult to take his own advice and stay present. his rasp sharpens, abrading his throat. ] It spoke with your voice. It moved with your person. [ his thumb presses down on nikolai’s pulse, hard enough to irritate the tender skin, and pulls him closer, between his legs. ] In the dark, I couldn’t see if there were shadows on your skin. [ kaz’s hand cups his cheek, thumb dragging down where black lines once disrupted his constellation of freckles. ] This was the only tell. A coldness where you should have been warm. [ a beat. he swallows. ] And you know I find that more difficult to pick up on than most. [ doesn’t know how to disclose his other weakness, the things he sees and hears that aren’t real but feel real and invariably muddy his ability to distinguish nikolai’s voice from the one in his head. you can’t. it’s a level of brokenness that no one else should risk cutting themselves on. worse, it’s a tool for the demon’s already considerable arsenal.
grip vicelike on his wrist, kaz traces the underside of nikolai’s jaw. his eyes soften and harden in the same breath, decision made. ]
So I need you to confirm who I’m speaking to now, Nikolai. Definitively. [ in the span of a heartbeat, kaz has the tip of a knife against his throat, released from the holster inside his wrinkled dress shirt. ] Or you won’t be allowed out of here.