Page 58 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘Because that is what the Order believes,’ Blackwood cut in. ‘The truth is, whether a death witch can free a Familiar from the Devil’s grip is, at this stage, speculation, Analise.’
In her lap, Analise’s fists clenched, nails biting into her skin. ‘Why can I see them, then?’
‘We don’t know,’ Blackwood admitted. ‘But we would like to know.’ There was something in the way he said it that made the hair stand up on the back of Analise’s neck. She shifted in her chair, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. The Head of the Church was looking at her like she was some sort of curio that he’d decided to retrieve from his collection, dust off, and study once more.
Never let anyone know what you are.
‘If I can do this, you’ll what? Be rewarded? Be God’s favourite priest?’
Blackwood’s lips curled, but whether in amusement or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. ‘This isn’t about me.’
‘I’m not so sure it isn’t,’ Analise murmured. His eyes dropped to her throat, and the cord there. Analise touched it, watching him. ‘Lira said the amulets aren’t working.’
Blackwood looked annoyed. ‘We aren’t certain of that either.’
‘More speculation?’
Blackwood ignored her, opening the satchel and withdrawing a thin book bound in dark leather. He hesitated for a moment before sliding it across the table for her. ‘This contains all the Church knows about death magic. It’s a copy, but it’s all there. It’s yours.’
Analise’s mouth went dry. ‘Why are you giving me this?’
‘I thought, considering you have never been with your kin, that you might find it interesting,’ he said. Such a simple statement, one that could be taken as kindness, but Analise narrowed her eyes and didn’t touch the book.
‘No one gives something for nothing.’
Father Blackwood chuckled. ‘My dear, the Devil’s Credges have hardened you, haven’t they? What happened to that smiling child I met all those years ago?’
Analise folded her arms. ‘She grew up and learnt that people are lying, manipulative scumbags who pretend they’re trying to help but are really just out for themselves.’
Irritation flashed across Blackwood’s features. ‘Jem has told you, against my advice, that we want your help, but before you can do anything of benefit, you need to know what you can do. The knowledge is all there, Analise, everything you could have ever wanted to know about your magic.’
He stood. There was something innately predatory about him that made her muscles tense. She reached for the book, pulling it towards her with deliberate slowness. Father Blackwood watched her almost eagerly, then, once the book was resting beneath her palm, he gave her a nod, and left.
Analise didn’t want to take the book. She didn’t want to accept a gift from him, and was tempted to leave it on the table, but she took it to her room, where she stuffed it under the bed, not sure why she was so reluctant to even look at it.
Blackwood manipulated her indirectly, using Ezra to get to her. Even if Ezra hadn’t done what Blackwood asked, Analise got the feeling she would still have ended up here, where the Church could find her. Blackwood was as vague as Jem on how she was supposed to help them, but Analise knew Jem wasn’t avoiding answering the question on purpose. He didn’t know the answers. If stopping the apocalypse was the ultimate aim, why would the Church not be truthful with the Order of the Dawn?
Jem hinted that the Church and the Order had differing views on some subjects. He hadn’t said it aloud, but the look on Ezra’s face during that moment was enough clarification for Analise to know that Jem was hiding something. Was death magic part of it? Was that why Blackwood had given her the book? And what about the amulets? What would it mean if the people in this city were no longer protected from the Devil?
Analise sighed. She wanted to go back to bed and forget about all this for a moment, but she was hungry. Surely, there was something in the kitchen she could eat that didn’t require cooking? She walked slowly down the stairs and through the bar, her mind drifting back to the book tossed beneath her bed. She’d read it eventually. The desire to know about her magic was too great, but for now, the rebellious part of her would ignore Blackwood’s gift.
There was no one in the kitchen. Analise found bread and cheese, her gaze falling on the basket of eggs on the table in the middle of the room. There was a frying pan on the bench near the lit stove, as if challenging her.
She’d watched Ezra do it. She’d done it once already. It really wasn’t that difficult. Analise left the bread and the cheese and approached the stove like it was a wild animal. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t cook. She grew up in a convent, for fuck’s sake. No one would let a wild girl who hated brushing her hair and wearing shoes into the kitchen.
Analise took a deep breath, then rolled up her sleeves. It was only one egg. She could cook one egg. She took one from the basket and set the frying pan on the stove, then stood back and stared at it, and was still staring at it when someone wandered in.
‘I thought I could hear eggs crying out in fear.’
Analise shot Ezra a dirty look.
He leant against the table, expression amused, his stance casual. He didn’t say anything, just watched her; the feeling of his eyes on her back made her shiver.
‘Can you leave?’
‘I’m waiting for my turn.’
‘I can’t concentrate while you’re here—you’re making me nervous,’ Analise said.
