Page 94 of A City of Smoke and Demons
‘Sorry,’ Lira said. ‘I can—’
‘No, leave them open,’ Analise said. There had been enough darkness in her head.
Ezra returned with a steaming bowl, carrying it over to her. She looked at him, feeling oddly dazed. His clothes were rumpled, there were shadows beneath his eyes and his hair was messed up, like he’d been pulling at it. He passed her the soup; his fingers curled around hers, then withdrew.
‘I’ll let the others know you’re awake,’ Lira said softly, and slipped out.
Analise kept her eyes on Ezra. ‘Lira says you—’
He shrugged. ‘Not a problem.’
He'd sat by her bed for two days. He’d carried her here. He’d caught her when she stumbled, raged at his friend out of worry for her …
Analise cleared her throat, trying again. ‘Ezra—’
‘I thought you were dead.’ His voice was low and flat.
‘I’m okay.’
‘I thought you were dead,’ he repeated, as if the idea of her dying was the worst thing he could possibly imagine. She wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. She dropped her eyes to her bowl, watching the steam curl from the soup. The smell of it was almost overpowering, but she made herself eat some.
‘What happened to the Familiar?’ Analise asked as Ezra sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Alive and back to his human self. Lira says he has no memory of being what he was. The last thing he remembers was a man in a white suit sitting beside him in a bar.’
‘Asmael,’ Analise breathed—the face from her nightmares flashed her a smile. ‘Did he say why he chose to become a Familiar?’
‘John—his name is John,’ Ezra said. ‘He can’t remember a thing. Lira and Tobias took him home. He’s back with his family.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good.’ She’d wanted to see him before he left. After seeing him nearly every day for years, she felt a strangeconnection to him. Part of her was disappointed he had no memory of her, while the other part was happy she’d been able to save him.
Ezra was staring at her.
‘You didn’t have to stay here for two days.’
He looked away, then stood, holding his hand out for her bowl. She passed it to him, not knowing what else to say. After a moment's hesitation, he managed a smile. ‘I’m glad you’re alright, Analise. I’ll let you rest.’
He was gone before she could tell him to stay.
Analise tapped her fingers gently on the bar. She was barefoot, wearing the man’s shirt she used as a nightdress, her legs exposed to the chilly air. She wasn’t cold though. Her insides had been burning since she woke after freeing John and discovered a certain blond-haired man had sat by her bed for days.
It was foreign to feel protected. She had no idea how to navigate the complexity of that emotion. She'd spent the years since leaving the convent languishing in death because it made the most sense to her. It felt right, natural, but not anymore.
Somewhere along this journey, Analise decided to embrace humanity and acknowledge the flaws that came with it as not failures, but as part of being human. People made mistakes, and they had to live with the consequences of those mistakes. She’d made enough mistakes of her own, had enough imperfections in her character, that she had no right to judge another.
Yet, she had judged Ezra, an instinctive reaction because she couldn’t hide what she was from him. She’d been unfair, cruel. And she wasn’t sure what to do next, afraid of what she feltfor him because it was new, and although she was learning new didn’t equal bad, it was still difficult to decide what to do.
It was the middle of the night and the only light came from the lamp outside the windows. Ezra wandered down the stairs, blinking and shirtless. He started when he saw her there, clearing his throat, and rubbing the back of his neck.
‘Ezra,’ Analise began.
‘I’m glad you’re up,’ he said, strolling behind the bar and fetching himself a glass of water.
‘I need to say something,’ she blurted.
He turned back to her, the bar a barrier between them she was glad of and hated at the same time.
‘I don’t hate you,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think I ever did.’
