KAZ BREKKER ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS ONE OF A KIND. He always thought no one could match his ruthlessness, his sheer lack of emotions, his thirst for revenge and determination to get it. He thought no one could be half as dangerous as Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel.
Until he met Asra.
Dirtyhands met his match with Asra. The Bastard of the Barrel paled in comparison to the Butcher. In his years watching the girl move through the world, watching the trail of blood she left behind, Kaz realised maybe he wasn't alone in his unholy being, maybe there was someone else willing to do what he does.
But first, Kaz thought this girl before him was undeniably cocky. That would get her killed here in the Barrel. He wondered how she'd made it this long.
She was filthy, yet playing at power. She wore what once might have been a suit, simple and subtle and red, but it had since been dirtied by this dirty city like the rest of her. Her hair was a mousey brown, cut bluntly around her face. There were scabs on her knuckles, bloody and bruised as she propped up her chin. Her lip was broken, twisting upwards into a smirk as she surveyed him. Her eyes, grey and shining in the room's dim light, flicked up and down his body and then across his room, every inch of it and him succumbed to her gaze. Kaz didn't like that.
"You've got my attention," he said. "What do you want with it?"
To say she had his attention wasn't completely true. She'd come into his club, stood by the bar watching a minute, not ordering a single drink or spending a single kruge, just waiting. Kas hadn't paid her much mind, this unremarkable and dirty girl, until she stood and punched a man square in the jaw.
Chaos had issued, as to be expected, and the bouncers had surged towards her. The man was about to leave when she punched him, so they didn't have to go far to reach her. She was almost tiny compared to them. But she wasn't fazed in the slightest as she bent, grabbed something from the man's pocket and tossed it to Kaz across the room, just quick enough before a bouncer grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back.
Kaz caught what turned out to be a small pouch, filled to the brim with kruge. Kaz knew every bet that went on his club, every man that won and lost them. That man had been losing, badly. He should've left with pockets lighter than air, not a heavy bag of kruge.
"He was gonna rob you." The girl had called. She gave a small, almost mocking bow. "You're welcome."
Kaz had stood, gripping his cane in one hand and the kruge in the other, and made his way over. She'd smiled at him, looking up slightly.
Kaz stared down at her, waiting. Goodwill didn't exist in the Barrel, not without an expected reward. She must have wanted something in return. He was right.
"Talky, aren't you?" She said, laughing slightly. She huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd like to talk to you, Mr Brekker, about a job."
Kaz raised a brow. "I've got enough men." He said curtly. And he had no place for a ratty little girl who laughed at him, even if she could throw the occasional good punch.
She hummed, looking down. Then her foot shot out behind her, into the bouncer's knee. It went out under him and sent him tumbling with a cry. He dragged her down, hands still locked around her wrists. But she let herself fall, rolling over him as he fell and in a second, she was stood at Kaz's side with her hands laced behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels.
"Maybe, but they can't do what I can do."
Kaz looked from her, smirking slightly by his side, to the bouncer, lay on the floor cradling his knee.
"Alright." He said simply, glaring down at her. He walked away, towards the stairs leading to his office. The girl followed, grinning. Jesper watched them go, staring open mouthed as he lay on the floor.
Now here they were. She was sat opposite Kaz, chin in dirty and scarred hand, legs folded neatly, staring at him.
"I want to work for you." She said. She didn't give Kaz a chance to say no, just kept going with a surprisingly sudden seriousness in her voice. "I can do it, whatever you want from me. I can be a spider, a bruiser, a bouncer. I can do anything and everything you tell me to, and I'll do it well."
"That's a bold claim."
"I can prove it. Give me a name, anyone in Ketterdam, I'll bring you their head by dawn."
Kaz raised a brow. Her stone cold look didn't waver. She'd changed, quite drastically. She sat hunched, elbows on her knees, feet planted on that floor. Her eyes held a steely determination that, against better judgment, made Kaz want to believe her. Pekka Rollins, the name appeared on his tongue. But he didn't say it. He didn't trust this stranger with his enemy's name. Pekka's head was his to take.
The leather of Kaz's gloves groaned as he shifted his grip on cane. "I'm not in the market for a decapitated head."
"I can bring them alive." She shrugged.
Kaz considered it all a moment. "Why do you want to work for me? What do you want?"
"For now, a steady paycheck. In the long run, protection if my demons come knocking."
There it is. Protection, of course. Of course this overly bold, bloody and filthy girl had someone after her. With her sly smirks and quick fists, how could she not?
"If you want protection, you'll need to speak to Per Haskell." Kaz said, for all the good it would do her. The Dregs weren't a charity case, not since Kaz joined them. He'd rasied the gang from practically nothing, and he didn't get his army by recruiting every scared girl who asked for help.
"I'm not looking to join the Dregs. I don't want Per Haskell's protection. I want yours."
Kaz just stared at her. She kept on, voice steady.
"I know my way about this city's politics. Per Haskell is an old man and a fool. You run the Dregs, you're the one to be scared of. And that's what I need, fear."
"Flattery won't win you anything with me." Kaz said.
"Good. You're not my type." She said.
Kaz just sighed. She'd wated enough of his time. "I'm not in the market for new enemies either."
She sighed, dropping her head. Kaz watched as she closed her eyes and took a breath, deep and slow and deliberate. Then she spoke, voice a mutter as she kept her eyes on the floor. "I'm worth the risk."
Kaz raised a brow. "Another bold claim."
"I'm a bold person." She looked up at him. "And a dangerous one. And a loyal one. And an obedient worker. I just need a paycheck and promise that, if I need it, you'll help me."
Kaz studied her. "Who's after you?" Why are you so desperate?
She shook her head slightly. "No one you'd know. And they don't know where I am. I'm safe, for now, maybe forever. They should think I'm dead."
"Then why do you need me?" He asked.
"Let's hope I don't." She said. "What I do need is money, ergo, a job. Give me a name and I'll prove I'm worth it."
Kaz considered it. And, against all better judgment, he complied. No man stole from Dirtyhands and lived to tell of it, and so he told her the name of the man who'd started all this, the who's jaw she'd already broken from the looks of it.
She smiled, ever so slightly, and sat up straight. "What do you want me to do to him?"
"Make him pay."
She nodded, stood, and left without another word, closing his door behind her.
Kaz sat back, thinking it all over. The girl was an idiot, that much was obvious. A dangerous idiot, a voice whispered in his mind, so unwarranted and clear Kaz surprised himself. A desperate girl, no matter how bold and supposedly dangerous, was still desperate. Desperation was weakness in its truest form, and that girl flaunted it like it was her greatest achievement. Yes, she was an idiot. She'd be lucky to last a month before winding up dead.
Kaz expected her to die, probably before the end of the month. Until then, he wasn't sure. He'd expected her to demand a few kruge and never show her face again. But she hadn't. She'd left with nothing more than a nod and now Kaz didn't know what to expect. She'd left without a thing, not even a name, he realised.
When dawn came the next day, the nameless girl was back. Kaz descended from his office shortly after dawn and found her sat at the bar, feet on the table and wet sack in hand.
Kaz walked over slowly, looking her up and down. Her shirt was spotted with blood, he saw, but not hers. She smiled at him, took her feet off the table and tossed him the sack.
"As promised."
Kaz opened the bag. Inside, immortalised in one last moment of terror, was the head of last night's thief.
It took a lot to surprise Kaz, but he hadn't expected her to actually follow through with it. In Ketterdam, the tradition punishment for a theif would be to take their hands. He hadn't even expected that at all. At most, he expected the man dead in his home. This girl had just tossed him a head.
"I'm very literal."
"I can see that." Kaz said, closing the bag. He tossed it back. She caught it out the air with one quick, scarred hand. "Dump that in the harbour."
She nodded, getting to her feet.
Behind Kaz, the doors opened. He knew it was Inej and Jesper, and the two were quickly stood either side of him.
Jesper pointed at the girl. "You!"
"Me." She smiled. "How's the leg?"
"Very bad!" Jesper said indignantly.
"Kaz?" Inej asked, looking between him and the nameless girl.
Kaz shifted his grip on his cane. "Meet the newest member of our crew."
The nameless girl smirked, giving another mocking bow. "Asra Behandelar, at your service."
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Author's note:
Welp, that was shit.
Shitty first chapter to start what I think is my best book ever. Yay!
That was way too short and Kaz was so out of character and it was, overall, shit, but the rest of the book is better. Promise.
:)