Page 77 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘I’d have thrown you out and if you’d stayed the night and tried to cook me breakfast in my shitty little kitchen that has no food and then told me … I don’t know, Ezra.’ Analise sighed. ‘I can understand why you didn’t tell me.’
‘That’s something, I guess.’
She wasn’t sure what else to say, so she nodded, and let him cook her something to eat.
Ezra dropped the jokes, the innuendo, let the mask fall away—for real this time. He wasn’t sure how to act, how to respond to anything Analise said, or to the looks she gave him. He was trying to show her the man he was, or the man he wanted to be, but whenever he saw her, his chest burnt and he clenched his fists so he couldn’t touch her. Part of him wished they’d agreed to sleep together and leave it at that, but another part of him craved this.
They were both lonely, starved of true affection. And they were both equally terrified of the vulnerability that came with needing to fill the hole inside but not knowing how to go about it. They recognised it in each other.
When they weren’t training at dawn or in some clandestine meeting, it was the two of them in the club until it opened each night. Sometimes they didn’t see Jem or Lira for days, but he and Analise stuck to their routine. They’d spar banter about stupid things, avoid the important things, share a meal, then she’d sit somewhere and read the book Blackwood gave her while he read whatever newspaper or pamphlet was lyingaround. The crowds would arrive, she would vanish into her room and he would plaster on a smile and spend the night joking with people he’d never seen before.
But it was empty, an act that no one seemed to see through except her.
The Canem Club was large enough that, if they wanted, they could avoid seeing each other, but somehow, they always found themselves together. Whether it was in the kitchen or the front bar, or in the confines of the hall outside their rooms, whenever Ezra turned around, Analise was there. He found himself looking for her more than he had before, walking into a room and knowing instantly that she was in there, or had been moments before.
‘Ezra…’ They were seated at the table near the window in the front bar where she liked to read. She wasn’t reading today, but a newspaper sat on the table and they’d chosen to have breakfast there. Analise made porridge, and while it was slightly lumpy, it was edible. He’d continued teaching her to cook. She’d tested every ounce of his patience, but they were getting somewhere.
‘You said that you’d been taught to fear death witches. What were you told?’
Ezra shifted uncomfortably in his seat, remembering that horrible conversation. ‘That having power over death wasn’t natural because it went against God’s order.’
Analise tapped her finger on her chin, frowning. ‘Who told you that?’
‘The Gendarme operates under missives from the Crown, which takes its religious instruction from the Church.’
‘But why would the Church, after so long, suddenly tell the Crown that death witches were dangerous?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe that’s a question for the Order’s good friend, Father Blackwood.’
‘You don’t trust him?’
‘I don’t. He asked me to find you but wouldn’t tell me why, appealing to my desire to save my own arse. Then Jem tells me not to let the Church get hold of you, but he wouldn’t tell me why. I decided to trust Jem over Father Blackwood.’
‘You really were trying to keep me safe, weren’t you?’
Ezra nodded. ‘I told you that you were too quick to judge a man.’
‘Yes, you have layers … like an onion.’
‘That’s a terrible analogy, but you tried,’ he said, giving her a smile. She smiled back and they fell into silence. Analise looked out the window, watching people pass. Morning light brushed her face and pale blue shimmered over her. Calm, Ezra thought. She was calm. He’d been wondering what the colours meant and now, he’d figured it out—her magical aura mirrored her mood. That fascinated him. If he toyed with her, teased her a bit, would that blue turn as red as her hair?
She frowned when she caught him watching her. ‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He tossed her his best smirk, the one he was working out annoyed her. Her magic shimmered red momentarily, then vanished. Analise opened the newspaper, doing her best to ignore him.
‘Anything interesting?’
She nodded, not lifting her eyes. “‘Man found missing his cock for being an absolute fucking arse.”’
‘Admit it,’ Ezra rested his elbows on the table and leaned towards her. ‘You like my cock.’
She slid the paper over with a little smile. Shrouded in blue once more, she picked up her tea and looked out the window, that smile not shifting.
‘Would it be wrong of me to spoil this lovely moment?’
Analise laughed, turning back to him. ‘You’re asking permission now?’
‘I like you, Analise,’ he said.
