[ his mind starts, stops. starts again. options shuffled through and thrown out just as swiftly. kaz deflates his only plan with cruel precision, raking up a sudden flurry of memories better left undisturbed ā the spill of blood down his throat, the crunch of bone between his jaws. he's sorry when he withdraws the knife, his gaze pinned to the smear of red trailing a path across the length of his palm. panic seeps from the locked box. no amount of sitting on the lid can staunch it. ]
I can't. [ his eyes ache, head pulsing. just last's night brandy. he swallows when his throat tries to seize. ] I can't bear to repeat it. I won't. [ the demon's crimes in ravka, in fjerda. his crimes. to lose control here in the home that kaz built for himself, to hear those cries again, the give of flesh and the scent of death filling his dreams ā he wants to pull away, and he nearly does, but then pushes forward instead, careless as always. the sharp, perceptive part of him that can't be turned off no matter what state he's in knows kaz is reaching his limit ā breath short, skin clammy, his heartbeat rabbiting in his chest despite his dogged words. but the part of nikolai that feels his back pressed into a corner needs somewhere to turn to. ]
You can't let me. [ lose control. lose himself in such a harrowing, unforgivable way. more and more burdens, more demands piled onto kaz's shoulders. his hand twists in kaz's shirt, fine tremors plaguing his body. the fear sown into his heart so long ago finally bearing fruit. his parted lips just barely skirt kaz's mouth, pressing close so that he can hide his face in his dark hair. warm wetness from his bloodied throat smears over kaz's skin. ] Don't let me. I beg you. I won't survive it again.
[ he clutches at kaz's back, fingers digging into his spine. he should go, while kaz still lets him. but kaz always lets him ā go, come back, fall apart. it's as if he has an inherent understanding of what he needs even when nikolai can't parse them out for himself. but he shouldn't always give in to them. his breath shudders, guilt climbing up his throat.
hoarsely, ] Promise me. Promise you won't let it happen again. [ more than anything, he needs this reassurance. he pulls back, his eyes a wild storm of desperation and shame. his hand cups the side of kaz's jaw, forcing him close. ] Swear to me, Brekker. Swear that you'll hunt me down yourself. Swear that you'll kill me. That's how I want you to help me. Now please, let me do the rest on my own. I want to be alone. And you ā [ he slides his fingertips along the sweat at kaz's temples, loosens his grip. tries to steady himself. the smell of blood hangs heavy in the air. ] You need to be.
[ his shot hits the target with deadly precision. nikolaiās features crumple in confirmation of the counterstrike, sobered from his anger and left with nothing but the pain, burrowed deeper than any knife. you knew it would hurt. yes, intimately. just as expected and terrible to hear his silver tongue reduced to a stutter, all nikolaiās brilliance gone with the killing blow. now, he recognises why his heart aches, the kind of empathetic burn that he tried so hard to guard against for years ā his shaky arms wrap around nikolai fiercely even as nausea scales his ribs. the miasma of death surrounds this place, but he supposes it always has.
that the perennially lonely nikolai wants to be alone stings, too, the sensation edged with humiliation (inherent in the acknowledgment that kaz brekker has reached his limit; that he has limits, when he should be an untireable, relentless thing). thereās no denying that wretched weakness, with gloves or without them. and still he hates the consuming, bottomless feeling that overtakes him most of all, when nikolai speaks of death. his hand covers nikolaiās on his cheek, pressing it there briefly (defiantly) in spite of the cold. ]
Iāll slit your throat before I let you hunt in my city. [ that, at least, is true. heād do it for ketterdam and nikolai both, thinking of how heād drifted as a spectre in fjerda and declined in his ravkan prison. ] If your demonās listening, and I have reason to believe it is, it ought to remember that. [ meeting his gaze all the while, he tugs nikolaiās hand from his face. ] You have my word, Nikolai, but donāt you dare go down easy. [ reaching inside his shirt, he retrieves a torn slip of paper from the interior pocket and presses it into nikolaiās hand. if he opens its neat fold, heāll find an address in kazās slanted writing. ]
Follow the geldstraat to the southern outskirts. Back doorās a Schuyler lock. [ not exactly to nikolaiās specifications, seeing as itās a preexisting safehouse, but he feels the need to offer something and exert control somehow. canāt be still in the face of a problem any more than nikolai. ] Otherwise, Milena works at the White Rose most nights. Sheāll make time to see you if you mention my name. [ given the red pearling at his neck. he hesitates. ] You might be unable to find me for the next few days if ā [ if nikolai looked, if he even wished to see him; he wonāt be at his desk. choking down his pride, kaz tries to imagine how nikolai felt when he disappeared in the night. wont to repeat that offence, his expression tips from momentarily shamed into his typical acidity. ] But Anika can reach me in the event you need to be shot before the weekend.
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I can't. [ his eyes ache, head pulsing. just last's night brandy. he swallows when his throat tries to seize. ] I can't bear to repeat it. I won't. [ the demon's crimes in ravka, in fjerda. his crimes. to lose control here in the home that kaz built for himself, to hear those cries again, the give of flesh and the scent of death filling his dreams ā he wants to pull away, and he nearly does, but then pushes forward instead, careless as always. the sharp, perceptive part of him that can't be turned off no matter what state he's in knows kaz is reaching his limit ā breath short, skin clammy, his heartbeat rabbiting in his chest despite his dogged words. but the part of nikolai that feels his back pressed into a corner needs somewhere to turn to. ]
You can't let me. [ lose control. lose himself in such a harrowing, unforgivable way. more and more burdens, more demands piled onto kaz's shoulders. his hand twists in kaz's shirt, fine tremors plaguing his body. the fear sown into his heart so long ago finally bearing fruit. his parted lips just barely skirt kaz's mouth, pressing close so that he can hide his face in his dark hair. warm wetness from his bloodied throat smears over kaz's skin. ] Don't let me. I beg you. I won't survive it again.
[ he clutches at kaz's back, fingers digging into his spine. he should go, while kaz still lets him. but kaz always lets him ā go, come back, fall apart. it's as if he has an inherent understanding of what he needs even when nikolai can't parse them out for himself. but he shouldn't always give in to them. his breath shudders, guilt climbing up his throat.
hoarsely, ] Promise me. Promise you won't let it happen again. [ more than anything, he needs this reassurance. he pulls back, his eyes a wild storm of desperation and shame. his hand cups the side of kaz's jaw, forcing him close. ] Swear to me, Brekker. Swear that you'll hunt me down yourself. Swear that you'll kill me. That's how I want you to help me. Now please, let me do the rest on my own. I want to be alone. And you ā [ he slides his fingertips along the sweat at kaz's temples, loosens his grip. tries to steady himself. the smell of blood hangs heavy in the air. ] You need to be.
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that the perennially lonely nikolai wants to be alone stings, too, the sensation edged with humiliation (inherent in the acknowledgment that kaz brekker has reached his limit; that he has limits, when he should be an untireable, relentless thing). thereās no denying that wretched weakness, with gloves or without them. and still he hates the consuming, bottomless feeling that overtakes him most of all, when nikolai speaks of death. his hand covers nikolaiās on his cheek, pressing it there briefly (defiantly) in spite of the cold. ]
Iāll slit your throat before I let you hunt in my city. [ that, at least, is true. heād do it for ketterdam and nikolai both, thinking of how heād drifted as a spectre in fjerda and declined in his ravkan prison. ] If your demonās listening, and I have reason to believe it is, it ought to remember that. [ meeting his gaze all the while, he tugs nikolaiās hand from his face. ] You have my word, Nikolai, but donāt you dare go down easy. [ reaching inside his shirt, he retrieves a torn slip of paper from the interior pocket and presses it into nikolaiās hand. if he opens its neat fold, heāll find an address in kazās slanted writing. ]
Follow the geldstraat to the southern outskirts. Back doorās a Schuyler lock. [ not exactly to nikolaiās specifications, seeing as itās a preexisting safehouse, but he feels the need to offer something and exert control somehow. canāt be still in the face of a problem any more than nikolai. ] Otherwise, Milena works at the White Rose most nights. Sheāll make time to see you if you mention my name. [ given the red pearling at his neck. he hesitates. ] You might be unable to find me for the next few days if ā [ if nikolai looked, if he even wished to see him; he wonāt be at his desk. choking down his pride, kaz tries to imagine how nikolai felt when he disappeared in the night. wont to repeat that offence, his expression tips from momentarily shamed into his typical acidity. ] But Anika can reach me in the event you need to be shot before the weekend.