Page 38 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, you’re not sorry. You’re a hateful fucking liar, Ezra,’ she spat.
‘I deserve that,’ he said, voice rough. His Adam’s apple pulsed against the blade pressed into his skin.
‘If Jem had never told you about the Order, would you have handed me over to the Church in an attempt to, I don’t know … what was in it for you? How about this—if you’d never left the Unseen, then gone home with me, would you have tried to stop them when they finally came for me, or would you have been the one to lead them there?’ Analise asked.
Ezra’s voice was tight, and he made no move to get away from her. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Right.’ She hadn’t expected a different answer, but it still hurt.
‘What do you want me to say? If I say no, you won’t believe me, and if I say yes, I’m confirming what you think of me,’ Ezra argued. ‘I’m not who and what I used to be. You asked why I don’t wear an amulet. I’m already in Hell, Analise. How much worse could it get?’
‘Do you want to find out?’ she snarled, digging her nails into his wrist.
Ezra’s expression was tight. ‘Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.’
‘How did I not know who you were?’ she demanded. ‘Your name—I knew that. Everyone knew it. Every hedge witch and spell-caster, every charms seller and bone dealer. We all knew it. But your face? How is it I didn’t know what you looked like? Why did no one …’ She trailed off as realisation dawned. Horrified, Analise backed away.
‘Nobody who ever saw my face got the chance to talk about it,’ Ezra mumbled. He wouldn’t look at her.
She stared at him. This man’s skills, hispower, or whatever it was, had led to countless arrests, countless people vanishing from the streets and fury swirled through her blood, making her fingers tingle with magic. ‘Death witches didn’t kill people,’ she snarled. ‘But your lot did.’
He looked like she’d slapped him.
‘You hunted my kind,’ Analise hissed.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said, voice rising. ‘We were taught you were dangerous. That you could not be trusted. We were taught that your magic wasn’t safe, that people weren’t safe, and it was our job—my job—to look after people.’
There was a tight sort of pride in his expression that made her want to hurt him.
‘But you’re not what I was taught you were,’ he said.
Ezra took a step closer, not caring that she still gripped the knife. Analise reached out and caught his wrist again, yanking him towards her. She dug the tip of the blade into the skin under his chin, forcing his head back to expose the line of his throat. She wanted him vulnerable, as unsettled as she was feeling. Her magic rose like a dark snake at her call. It flowed out of her and tunnelled through him, picking at his life force, not enough to kill him, but enough that the warning was clear.
He huffed a soft, regretful laugh and relaxed in her grip. ‘Do it. If you’re to be the death of me, so be it. I won’t fight you, Analise, because I deserve it.’
‘No matter how much you hate yourself, Ezra, it can’t be more than I do.’
Ezra spent the night on the lounge with his eyes glued to the ceiling, his fingers occasionally touching his throat and the line of dried blood there. He should have taken the knife from her and finished the fucking job.
She was right about everything.
When Lira and Jem arrived, he joined them at the table without a word.
Jem indicated a bag his sister was carrying. ‘Pastries.’
Analise appeared in the doorway. Her cheeks were pale, but she lifted her chin and shook her hair back, marching into the kitchen and sitting next to Lira. Crimson threads of magic curled from her shoulders. Ezra touched his throat again, then bit his lip as more things he’d managed to bury came crawling back. Faces and hands bound with thick rope. Blood on the cobblestones. Smears of magic against a wall, fingers of it decorating a lamppost. The pleas, the begging as hands were swiftly bound. His past was pushing through his barriers, and whenever he looked at Analise, her magic blooming around her, he saw her face down on a dirty street, her arms pulled behindher back as she struggled and begged. Sometimes he couldn’t see the face of the man who held her; sometimes it was him.
He wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d do everything he could to assure it didn’t, even though she hated him.
Jem sighed. ‘You look terrible, both of you.’
‘Thanks, as always, for your keen observation,’ Ezra mumbled while Analise told Jem to get fucked.
Lira rolled her eyes, dishing out pastries. ‘You’re as blunt as an axe, big brother. This is why no woman, or man, has ever been able to put up with you for more than six months. Although, I have to give Tobias points for his tenacity—or maybe he’s stubborn, or a glutton for punishment.’
‘Tobias?’ Ezra echoed as Jem glared at his sister.
