Page 57 of A City of Smoke and Demons
The humour vanished from her face, and he mentally kicked himself as she visibly withdrew. She shook her head, then turned and walked away. For a moment, Ezra contemplated shooting himself in the foot for real.
When Analise woke there was a note on the floor near the door. She snatched it up, heart pounding. As she read it, her toes curled and her palms grew clammy. She’d expected this, but not so soon, not when her head was a mess. Pulling on whatever clothes she could find, she headed downstairs. The club was quiet and still, fractured light creeping in through the front windows.
She paused, watching people pass by. The short walk from her lodging to the morgue was her carefully chosen moment of participation in the world. Now, she found she missed the sounds of her neighbourhood. The chatter of voices, the sharp barking of mongrel dogs, the shrill shouts of small children. She missed the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones. She even missed the smog that stained the sky and the smell of rain, the blanket of fog that covered the streets and the wall of noise and the aroma of old sweat that assaulted her when she stepped inside Lira’s pub.
Lira came by last night and the two of them went down to the basement at Analise’s insistence. She’d wanted to fire a gun,hit something. She’d wanted to do something physical, anything to try and shift some of the tension that had been percolating beneath her skin since that morning. It was partially being stuck here, partially the lingering effects of not drinking, but it was mostly the man who slept on the other side of the wall from her each night.
How could someone be so irritating and so alluring at the same time? Seeing him shoot that blasted gun had been too much. There was something dangerous and strangely intoxicating about the way he looked with the weapon in his hands, and the way he’d stood behind her when she fired … Analise was painfully aware of how her body responded when he was that close to her. She liked it. The way he made her stomach, the feeling of her blood warming beneath her skin. She found herself looking for him wherever she went, and it drove her mad.
He was a lying piece of shit, and if she could remain focused on that, Ezra Ives wouldn’t have any impact on her. She smiled suddenly, remembering he’d asked her to put her magic away. Maybe she wouldn’t— he’d keep his hands off her if he thought she was going to kill him.
Analise glanced at the bar, bottles lined up neatly behind it. Considering who she was meeting, having whiskey for breakfast wouldn’t be a good look. Father Blackwood was waiting in the meeting room. He stood when she entered, gesturing towards a chair.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Sit.’ He was tall and lean, clean-shaven, flecks of silver decorating his dark hair. He was dressed head to toe in black, his clothes neat and pressed, and there was an air of authority surrounding him. ‘You look well, Analise.’
Analise said nothing. He gave her a warm smile and resumed his seat.
‘I met you once, when you were a child.’ His voice was smooth and rich, and for a moment, she could hear it as it wouldsound when he addressed the masses during Sunday service. ‘You wouldn’t remember me. You were too busy picking flowers from the garden in the courtyard.’ He paused, considering her. ‘It must have been hard for you, growing up not understanding what you were.’
‘It was, at times,’ Analise agreed. ‘And I remember you. I was twelve, not two. You asked a lot of questions.’
He chuckled. ‘I did.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I was curious.’
‘And are you still curious?’ His note had given Analise no indication of what he wanted, other than to meet her again. A leather satchel rested on the table. Blackwood ran his fingers over it thoughtfully, a gesture designed to make her want to know what it contained, but she decided to ask another question.
‘You asked Ezra Ives to find me.’ She watched the Head of the Church carefully, but his expression didn’t alter. ‘Did you tell him my name?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘If you knew who I was, why not? Or, why not come and find me yourself?’
‘Because I wanted to see if he could still do what he was once so good at,’ Blackwood said. ‘And it appears he can, but he decided to take a different path than the one I had asked him to follow. It doesn’t surprise me. Ezra doesn’t work for the Gendarme anymore and therefore has no connection to the Church, save the one he has with God. He is free to make his own decisions.’
Analise wasn’t so sure Ezra had any connections to God. ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘No, I suppose it doesn’t. You are, of course, familiar with the Scripture,’ Blackwood said. ‘You know what the Book says aboutthe end of all things, and you are now aware of the existence of the Order of the Dawn and its connection to the Church.’
Analise studied him, watching for any signs he was trying to manipulate her. If he wouldn’t tell her why he’d needed Ezra to prove his skills, and to find her, she had another question. ‘Why did the Crown exile the Daughters of Lilith?’
‘That was not my decision and I counselled the King and his ministers against it, but in the end, the Church doesn’t have the power it once did,’ Blackwood told her, expression grave. ‘I should have been more insistent, but at the time, our information about Asmael’s movements was somewhat lacking.’
‘And now it isn’t?’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I am aware you have the ability to see the Fallen One’s Familiars. Did you ever wonder why that is?’
‘I assumed it was something all death witches could do.’
Blackwood shook his head. ‘You, my dear, are an anomaly.’ He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. ‘Once, the Order worked with the Daughters, both in service to the Church. A death witch couldn’t see a Familiar, but they can use their magic to save the human inside the beast.’
‘Jem said, but how do you know that?’
Blackwood cleared his throat and hesitated before he spoke. ‘We don’t, not for certain.’
Analise licked her lips. This wasn’t what she expected. Blackwood was the Head of the Church. As much as she didn’t trust him, she’d hoped that if anyone could give her guidance in these matters, it would be him. ‘Why would you say—’
