Page 114 of A City of Smoke and Demons
Across the room, Lira’s ghost was grinning. Analise sat back, exhausted. This talk, this arguing, was draining and getting them nowhere.
‘Maybe you need to get out from behind your cloth and meet the real people of this city,’ Ezra said. ‘The ones who keep the wheels turning, who make sure the rich and powerful have food on the table when they don’t have any for themselves.’
Jem nodded. ‘I agree,’ he said firmly. ‘The Church has failed those people.’
Blackwood’s mouth was a hard line. ‘The Church has always—’
‘The Church,’ Jem went on, his voice rising, ‘is the face of God on earth.Youare the face of God on earth, but you are unreachable, Father Blackwood. The people of the Devil’s Credges, like the people of every blasted slum in this city, don’t want your pity, or even God’s pity. They want your help, your humanity. The Church wears a human face, but you don’t show it to them.’
Maddog was looking at his nephew with pride. ‘He’s right,’ he said eventually. ‘Jem’s right. Analise is right. We can’t fight the Devil when people choose him over God.’ He sighed. ‘The Crown made a mistake—a big one. You and I have argued about this already, Blackwood, but the time for arguing is over.’ His gaze swept over them all, coming to rest on Analise. ‘We need the Daughters of Lilith back.’
‘And where do you propose we start looking for them?’ Father Blackwood stuttered.
Maddog’s eyes shifted to Ezra.
‘Oh no,’ Ezra said, holding up his hands.
Blackwood tapped the table for emphasis. ‘Yes. Yes! This is your task, son. This is what God spared you for.’
Ezra rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t believe that bullshit for one moment. And what makes you think I could find them when no one else could?’
Blackwood chuckled. ‘You’re the great Ezra Ives. Surely, you can—’
Ezra snarled. ‘I can knock your fucking teeth in if you—’
Maddog held up his hand. ‘Ezra…’
Ezra sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them, it was Analise he looked at. She nodded.
‘Alright. If I can find them, I will, but I make no promises.’
They buried Lira a week later. Morgan had taken her body away, and it rained the day of the funeral, a bleak sky to echo a bleak occasion. Whenever Ezra saw Analise gaze off into the distance, he wondered if she was seeing the ghost of their friend. Occasionally, he’d catch a tiny smile tugging at her mouth and wonder what Lira had said.
Analise told Jem the day before the funeral that Lira was still here. Jem’s despair was still evident, but his expression had shifted into determination, a spark of the old Jem, proof that he was still the man he was before this happened. The Order of the Dawn were no strangers to death, but the loss of Lira hit everyone hard. There was a brief celebration of her life, but with all that was happening, no one was in the mood for a party. According to Analise, Lira was offended.
Two nights after the funeral, Ezra and Jem were sitting in the bar of the Canem Club, which had remained closed since Lira’s death. Ezra hadn’t seen much of Maddog, and Father Blackwood also made himself scarce—perhaps understanding he was notwelcome in their grief, not when his focus was elsewhere. Ezra ground his teeth. The Church asked too much, of all of them.
Jem broke the silence with a sigh and reached for the bottle of whiskey. Jem didn’t drink. He didn’t take drugs, didn’t sleep around, didn’t break the rules. It was honestly one of the things Ezra appreciated about his friend. Jem was the counterpoint to his reckless bullshit, to his speaking without thinking and being a selfish prick.
But there was a darkness to Jem’s face that Ezra had never seen before, a deep-seeded worry that had taken root and was growing thorns.
Ezra’s eyes widened when Jem drank straight from the bottle.
‘Do you ever get the feeling something is being kept from you?’ Jem asked, setting the bottle down and sliding it in Ezra’s direction. Ezra let his raised eyebrows be his answer. Jem’s smile was rueful. ‘I’m worried.’
‘Obviously, and that worries me enough to sit here with you while I could be upstairs in my bed with a woman who I’m not going to see for who knows how long.’ Ezra slid the bottle back. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain that traipsing off searching for death witches at the moment was a good idea, but Maddog was convinced the Order needed them and, right now, their plans for Asmael’s demise were the only way Maddog, or any of them, could deal with Lira’s death.
Jem took another drink. ‘Father Blackwood—’
‘Is a self-serving prick,’ Ezra cut in, watching Jem’s face closely, noting how deep his friend’s frown was. ‘But that’s not what this is about, is it?’
‘The Order of the Dawn serves the Church,’ Jem began in a low voice. ‘We always have. We have shared goals, a shared vision. Our reasons for what we do have been shaped by our belief that the Church acted for the greater good.’
‘But?’
‘But I’m not sure of that any more. When Blackwood asked you to find Analise, he did so without telling the Order. You telling me was the first I heard of it. He asked you to take Analise directly to him. Why?’
Ezra frowned. ‘What is it you’re worried about? Your Church went rogue for a moment. Maybe, with the end of days, Blackwood thought he was being proactive?’
