Page 27 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘Will it be poisoned?’
‘My ego isn’t that fragile,’ he mumbled, reaching for the bag. Onions, tomatoes, potatoes, bread, meat wrapped in waxed paper, cheese, apples, more eggs.
Analise huffed. ‘You can actually cook?’
‘We were middle class, but not wealthy. No personal chef, anyway.’ He glanced at her.
She was dressed in a black blouse and a dark-brown skirt. Her legs were tucked up, knees beneath her chin, feet bare. There was a light surrounding her, sliding over her like a second skin. Unlike most witches Ezra encountered, Analise’s magic wasn’t one colour, but a whole spectrum of it and he wondered why she was different. He wondered what she dreamt that left her so shaken.
He wondered what would happen if he pulled her from her seat and kissed her.
For a moment it was another witch Ezra saw, with white hair and lines on her face. He blinked and she was gone. Shaken, he turned away, and began preparing their meal, Analise’s sharp gaze on his back.
‘Who taught you to cook?’ she asked as he sliced his way through an onion.
‘My mother house broke me. I guess she thought it might make me a more attractive potential husband.’
Analise said nothing, and they didn’t speak until he placed a plate of steak and vegetables in front of her. She didn’t touch her food, staring unblinking at her meal, until she sighed, picking up her cutlery with quivering fingers.
‘I’m sorry you lost your job,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry you’re stuck here, with me. I’m—’
‘Enough, Ezra,’ she said, voice soft. ‘Let’s … I don’t know. Try and get along, I suppose, if that’s possible.’
‘I’m well aware of my failings, believe me.’ He didn’t mean to say it, usually better at keeping his self-loathing to himself, but somehow, her presence was opening doors in his mind he’d thought were locked.
Analise pushed some tomato around her plate. ‘You’re annoying, and I want to curse you into next week, but you’re not horrible, alright?’
‘Is that a compliment?’ he asked suspiciously.
Analise laughed, her whole face lighting up. It caught him off guard. ‘Maybe,’ she said.
‘You should do that more often. Laugh.’ Her expression sobered instantly, her magic shifting around her. It was golden today, just a hint of it, curling around her fingers like smoke.
It had been so easy for him. The smell and taste of magic faded quickly, so it could be concealed from his colleagues, but never from him. It didn’t matter how long it had been since a witch used their magic, Ezra could see it, like he could with Analise now.
She was watching him watch her, her expression cool.
He cleared his throat, but she spoke before he could.
‘I think it’s about time we got to know one another.’
‘Alright. How have you managed to hide—’ Ezra stopped abruptly. Fuck. Her eyes narrowed but the colour drained from her face as her magic turned so red it was almost black. She’d almost let it slip last night, and he’d caught the look on her face when he held her wrists, keeping her hands away from him. A death witch’s power was in her hands—she had to be touching something to do any damage. Ezra had felt that power once, in the beginning. The witch was old, and he assumed age meant she wouldn’t be able to overpower him. It was a mistake he never made again, and he never forgot what death magic felt like—claws, scratching ruthlessly at his insides, and the blackness that filtered into the corners of his vision.
He tried again. ‘How have I never met you before?’
Analise ignored that. ‘Why did you go home with me that night?’
This was easier. ‘Probably for the same reason you took me home—you were there.’
She blinked. ‘Fine. How do you know Jem?’
Dangerous territory. ‘You seem tense. I’ve got a method for relieving tension. All you have to do is ask.’
‘Just answer the question.’ Analise pointed her fork at him.
Ezra drummed his fingers on his thigh. His friendship with Jem had been a surprise. Where Jem was quiet, Ezra was loud. Jem was serious, taciturn, his eyes full of shadows. Ezra laughed and joked enough for the both of them. They were polar opposites, yet somehow, it worked.
Analise’s eyes bored into his. He sighed. Fuck it. ‘We met at school, then after I lost my parents, I joined the Gendarme with him.’
