Page 30 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘Don’t hold it against me. Can’t choose your family,’ Lira said lightly. ‘And this is what’s going on.’ She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket. It was the sketch Analise made of the mark she found on the bodies in the morgue. Her death magic tingled.
Analise snuck a look at Jem. He and Lira had the same eyes.
Lira stubbed her smoke out and sighed. ‘I haven’t been truthful with you, Analise. You need to understand it wasn’t because I wanted to deceive you, or didn't trust you. I couldn’t tell you.’
Analise kept her eyes on Lira’s. While she could understand Lira not wanting to advertise the fact her brother was Gendarme around the Credges, she’d thought they were friends. The hurt took her by surprise. She folded her arms, muscles bunched, anger creeping in. ‘What else? Has it got to do with that drawing?’
Lira nodded.
‘What does it mean?’ Analise’s head was spinning, but focusing on this—on the mark, and what it meant—was the only thing she could do to keep from screaming. Here she was, an illegal death witch, sitting around a table having a chat with a member of the Gendarme, and his sister, her kidnapper…
Her eyes shifted to Ezra, and then away. He hadn’t reacted, at least not visibly, to the knowledge that Analise was a death witch.
Or had Jem already told him?
‘It’s a demon mark,’ Jem spoke, taking a seat. ‘Those people were killed—’
‘By demons,’ Analise cut in. It made sense now. When Jem gave her a suspicious look, she rolled her eyes. ‘I was raised in a convent, which I’m sure you know. You think the nuns didn’t speak to me for twenty years?’
Jem nodded. ‘The dead made a deal with Asmael and, when they couldn’t fulfil their end, they died for it.’
‘How do you know that for sure?’ In her mind, she turned the pages of a book, fingers trembling at the face that haunted her nightmares for months. The nuns told her what the picture was, and they’d told her what was coming for them all, eventually.
When he comes to you, do not speak to him. Never speak to him.
‘My brother and I are part of an organisation that has existed for generations. Part of the Church, if you want to call it that—which I don’t, because Blackwood is completely useless,’ Lira added. ‘We’re called The Order of the Dawn. We hunt demons. Our parents did the same, and their parents, going back hundreds of years. That’s how I knew what that mark was. I knew the moment you showed me but I couldn’t tell you.’
Shock joined the anger surging through Analise. ‘And you didn’t think to mention this?’
‘It isn’t something I can freely talk about,’ Lira said quietly.
‘But you can now, I take it? Why? What do you want from me?’ Analise’s voice was hard and she didn’t care.
‘Want? Nothing,’ Lira said.
Analise snorted, then, to her utter dismay, felt her bottom lip begin to tremble. She got up and fled the room, sitting at the bottom of the stairs, trying to calm her racing heart.
Lira knew what she was, and said nothing. Analise thought of all those moments when she’d felt so alone, thinking she had no one to talk to when all along … and now this, this Order of the Dawn,demonhunting …
She shook her head in disgust. Her hands were shaking. This was why she avoided people.
The kitchen was silent, then, Lira, broke it:
‘Should I…’
‘Give her a minute.’ Ezra’s voice. ‘I’ve got a bit of an idea how she’s feeling right now.’
You really don’t, Analise thought bitterly. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, waiting until the rage melted into a dull throb before she went back in, retaking her seat. Lira looked utterly miserable.
Jem cleared his throat.
‘Go on then,’ Analise said coolly.
‘The Order consists of alchemists and members of the church, and those like us—hunters’ Jem said.
Ezra didn’t react, barely moved.
Analise narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You knew this?’
