Page 49 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘That’s not the point,’ Ezra argued. He took a step towards her. ‘You hid the truth like I did, but you’ve cursed me into the pits of hell for it.’
‘If you’re calling me a liar, just say it,’ she bit out, getting to her feet, finding herself, once again, too close to him.
‘I’m calling you a hypocrite, Analise,’ he snapped.
Her fists clenched. ‘I did it to protect myself, after a lifetime spent hiding from people like you—and you proved my instinct right once again. What's your excuse?’
The space between them was a tangled mess of biting anger, so thick and bitter Analise could carve her name in it. She didn’t move, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She wasn’t afraid of him, not anymore, and wasn’t sure she ever had been. Even when he was glaring at her, eyes narrowed and jaw tight, lips thin, she had the strange sense his anger was for himself as much as it was for her. And that intrigued her.
‘Are you going to help me, or not?’
Scowling, Ezra picked up his shirt from the armchair and put it on, then turned to the bed, pulling the sheets free. ‘Fine. If you want to hang yourself, I’ll give you a rope.’
He tied both sheets together, fashioning them into a rope with knots at regular intervals. Without looking at her, he carried it to the window and slung it out, keeping hold of one end. ‘Doesn’t reach the ground. You’ll have to jump the last few feet.’
‘Fine.’ Analise climbed onto the windowsill before she lost her nerve, while Ezra muttered about how fucking stupid he was to be doing this. Analise met his gaze. ‘Don’t you dare drop me,’ she warned.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the sort to come back and haunt me,’ Ezra said.
She snorted, not bothering to tell him that wasn’t how ghosts did things. As Ezra adjusted his grip on the sheet, Analise slid out the window, gripping the sill tight, wondering if he was right and this was a stupid idea. They were just clothes. Ezra was watching her, a challenge in his eyes, so she shifted her grip to the sheet. His face relaxed a fraction.
‘I won’t let you fall,’ he murmured.
Her stomach flipped as he braced his feet, standing with his weight balanced, like he might in the ring. When he gave her a nod, she began the descent. It was hard. She had no muscles in her arms and could barely hold her own weight, wishing for the first time in her life she was slightly built and not all bottom heavy and curved. At least if she fell her arse would cushion her. By the time she reached the last knot, her arms were burning and she couldn’t feel her fingers.
The drop was only a few feet, like Ezra promised, but the cobblestones were hard enough to rattle her bones. While Analise was rubbing her hands on her thighs to coax some feeling back into them, Ezra landed gracefully on the ground next to her. She glanced up—the sheet was gone, and she realised he’d pulled it back inside.
‘How did you—’
‘I climbed down,’ he said. ‘Let’s go then.’
‘I don’t need your help,’ she hissed.
‘Funny, you needed it five minutes ago,’ he shot back. Analise scowled and stalked off. He followed. The streets were empty apart from the odd late-night wanderer, and fog curled around their ankles. Ezra, mercifully, did not speak.
At the lodging house, everything was as Analise had left it, which, while a relief, was also suspicious. She hadn’t paid her rent in weeks and had been expecting to either find someone in here or her belongings on the street. It was freezing inside, the darkness thick and unlived in, so she lit a lamp. As the roomfilled with light, her gaze shifted to her bed; Ezra’s did as well. They looked at each other briefly before she grabbed a bag from the floor, and started pulling clothes from the dresser, hating that her cheeks were flaming and her stomach was tight. She glanced over her shoulder.
Ezra was looking out the window.
‘Analise, come and see this.’
‘What?’
‘Come here.’ The urgency in his tone made her skin prickle. She dumped the bag on the bed and hurried to the window.
In the street below were two Familiars—hers, and another, a woman.
‘Yours?’
‘I think so,’ Ezra replied, frowning.
‘They won’t hurt us,’ Analise said, returning to her packing.
‘I’m not sure I’m convinced of that. You’re not the one wearing a demon mark.’
‘I’m not the one foolish enough to make a deal with the Devil,’ she said, shoving her favourite blouse into the bag.
‘For fuck’s sake. I don’t remember that at all,’ Ezra muttered, sighing and letting the curtain drop. ‘It’s freezing in here.’
