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The Last Songbird ch 4

Guaranteed to Blow Your Mind

Summary:

A few months into their secret arrangement Kaz deviates from his usual pattern. Things are changing between the two of them, Inej knows, but perhaps that's not such a bad thing?

Preview:

“What happened to you?” The second she lowered her arm, one of his wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. “You were right,” he said quietly. With a flick of his wrist a flask appeared in his free hand—pulled from where she could only guess. “Lynx, you were right —they had a second warehouse just outside the city. A secret second location.” She hummed, dropping the rag into the dirty laundry basket, allowing herself to be pulled fully into his lap as he took a swig from the flask. She didn’t need him to explain what he was talking about, and of course she was right—hers was the only explanation that made sense of the Razorgulls’ movements and the mysterious disappearance of the Dime Lions’ jurda shipments.  Kaz had agreed with her from the outset about her secret warehouse theory, but the location had remained a mystery, and every attempt to find it had been a dead end. Last she’d seen him, a week and a half ago, he’d been almost at his wit’s end about it.  She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like how all that was connected to his current, bloodied state.  She rested her hands on his shoulders. “So how did you find it?”  He smiled. His fingers drifted lazily up and down her spine, where her bare skin was exposed by the cut of her costume. “They took me right to it,” he said. “All I had to do was convince them to jump me, and they took me right there.” She stiffened. “You were jumped?”  “On purpose, don’t forget,” he said, tipping the flask to his lips again. He winced as the alcohol stung the cuts in his mouth. “It was perfect, Lynx—we baited the hook and they just couldn’t help themselves. They had to take me somewhere secret, so of course, they took me to the warehouse.”  He offered her the flask, and she took a sip. Kaelish whisky, of course. It went down like hot silk, warming her to the pit of her belly.   His fingertips brushed her throat as she swallowed, then moved to the silks draped over one of her shoulders. “May I?”