Page 12 of A City of Smoke and Demons
Blackwood could destroy him.
‘I’m sure you, like every person in this city, are aware of the story of the Fall,’ Blackwood began.
He was here to talk bible stories?
‘What about it?’
‘Have you ever made a deal with the Devil, Mr Ives?’
‘Would I be here chatting with you on this fine morning if I had, Father?’ Ezra replied. What the fuck was going on?
Blackwood chuckled, then his expression turned serious. ‘The Church has a job for you—God has a job for you, Mr Ives.’
Ezra’s laugh was dark. ‘God? What has God done for me lately except give me a hell of a lot of grief?’
Father Blackwood poured himself a drink. ‘It is my understanding that before you ruined your life, you were Unseen, and that you were rather exceptional in your talents.’
‘I don’t know if I call what I can do exceptional,’ Ezra murmured.
‘The Church considers it exceptional, useful even.’
And there it was. ‘I don’t know what you want, but the answer is no.’ Ezra shot Maddog a look. The gangster was standing by the window, a thoughtful frown on his face.
‘Every Unseen is trained to track a death witch, but none are as good at it as you were,’ the Father continued. He tapped his fingers on his thigh. ‘That’s why I’m here, Mr Ives. I want you to find me one.’
Ezra blinked. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Find the Church a Daughter of Lilith,’ Blackwood replied.
It had been a long time since Ezra heard death witches referred to as Daughters of Lilith. ‘The King exiled the witches, or have you forgotten that fact? Does the Church operate under its own rules now, or has the Crown realised they’ve made a mistake and are too proud to admit it?’
Maddog made a noise. Ezra wasn’t sure if it was disapproval or not.
‘What’s in it for me?’ he asked, throwing back the bedclothes and getting to his feet.
‘The Gendarme won’t find out where you are,’ Blackwood answered after a pause.
Ezra raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re blackmailing me? Does God approve?’
‘Consider it an opportunity to clear your name, Mr Ives. Help us, and we shall help you. You want your life back? I can make sure you get it.’ Blackwood finished his drink and stood. He was taller than Ezra, straight-backed and broad shouldered, not much older than forty.
‘Don’t take too long deciding,’ Blackwood said, sweeping from the room. Maddog followed and when he came back, his face was like a thundercloud.
‘Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had a rude shock, so forgive me if I forgot my manners,’ Ezra flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
‘I couldn’t give a shit about your manners. You’ll do what he says,’ Maddog growled.
‘Bullshit I will. I work for you, not the Church, and certainly not Blackwood.’
‘Listen to me,’ Maddog began, his voice low. ‘I don’t give a fuck what you did in the past—what I care about is keeping your old friends out of my business. If the Gendarme or their witch-hounds even put one fingernail inside this club, you’d better hope they get to you before I do. Understand me?’
Ezra glowered at the man towering over him. ‘Perfectly.’
Jem was waiting, a tall, black-cloaked figure staring at the water. No one could brood quite like Jem. The world was smothered in early morning fog, the air was kissed with the first breath of winter. Ezra pulled the collar of his coat around his ears as he joined Jem in watching the filthy water.
‘You’re late,’ Jem said, giving him a quick once-over. ‘You got in the ring, I take it? Even after I told you not to?’
Ezra didn’t bother with a reply. He'd caught sight of his reflection as he left his room—shadows beneath his eyes, a bruise colouring his jaw, a split in his lip and another in his eyebrow. His knuckles were aching in the cold, so he shoved his hands in his pockets.
