Chapter 29
The moment she saw Ezra’s face, Analise knew.
‘I made a deal with Asmael.’ His voice was flat, his skin pale.
Jem looked like he was going to punch Ezra in the face.
‘I made a deal with the Devil in an opium den while I was high. Be as mad as you want, Jem, but it doesn’t change it,’ Ezra said blankly. Analise, Jem, and Lira were in Maddog’s office, Charles with them, where they’d been waiting while Ezra was with the seer.
Jem put his head in his hands. ‘Ezra.’
‘It wasn’t like he walked up and introduced himself,’ Ezra mumbled. He sighed. ‘The Devil found me at my most vulnerable, then sat there and got high with me.’
Nobody spoke, until Ezra pulled at his hair in frustration. ‘How does it work? The deals?’
‘We aren’t sure,’ Lira said miserably. ‘Some of the people we’ve met, those we have found who were willing to talk to us, said that as the end date for whatever time Asmael gave them drew closer, they realised they were being followed.
The Familiar’s job is to watch, remember, and if the person doesn’t do whatever Asmael has asked of them, he sends his demons after them.
’ Her eyes flickered to Ezra, then she sighed.
‘But even if they do fulfil their bargain, he owns them, Ezra. He owns you.’
Ezra took a seat, expression thoughtful. ‘So, if I don’t do what I said I’d do, I’m dead either way, then?’
‘What did he ask and how long did he give you?’ Jem demanded, his voice rising.
Ezra’s eyes shifted to Analise. ‘He gave me a year to find him a death witch.’
Her vision blurred.
‘I didn’t remember. I’m not lying to you, Analise. I didn’t remember a thing. He put your face in my head and told me to bring you to him. That night we first met, I had the sense I’d met you before.’
‘You asked me,’ she whispered. ‘I thought you were being, well, you.’
No one said anything for a long moment, until Jem sighed. ‘Your year must be up. That’s why you can see the Familiars, Ez. That’s why the mark has shown up on your skin.’
‘Then get rid of it,’ Ezra said fiercely. ‘I don’t care how. Cut it off. Burn it off, whatever. Get rid of it because I am not handing Analise over to the Devil, and I sure as fuck am not letting myself become a demon.’
Lira looked worried. ‘We’ve tried removing the mark already, with others, in an attempt to trick the Devil.’ She paused, shaking her head, ‘and it comes back. I’m sorry, Ezra.’
‘Right. Well, I refuse to die on someone else’s terms.’ Ezra looked at Analise. ‘I want you to kill me.’
‘What?!’ Horror flooded her. ‘How can … how can you ask me to do this?’
‘Ezra—’ Jem began.
But Ezra turned to Lira. ‘Would that work? If I die on my own terms? Will he still own me?’
‘I … don’t know,’ Lira replied after a short pause. 'No one who has tried to escape their bargains this way has come back to tell us otherwise.'
Ezra tapped his fingers on his thigh. ‘Analise can kill me, using her magic, and then she can bring me back, if she chooses to.’
Analise gaped at him. ‘I’ve resurrected a rat, Ezra, not a human being! What if it doesn’t work?’
He shrugged. ‘Then I’m dead.’
Jem was frowning. ‘I understand your opinion of yourself is somewhat lacking of late, Ez, but I don’t think—’
‘It’ll work,’ Charles cut in.
Analise looked at him in horror. ‘No.’
The alchemist cleared his throat and nudged his glasses up his nose. The look he gave her was kind. ‘The human brain can survive without oxygen for a number of minutes. If you stop his heart and then restart it in time, it should be fine.’
‘Should be?’ Analise repeated numbly. She couldn't feel her fingertips, could barely hear anything over the sickening thud of her heart.
‘How many minutes?’ Ezra asked. He was taking too much interest in his own death. Analise shook her head in disbelief.
‘Two, at the most,’ Charles told him. ‘At the one-minute mark, cell death starts occurring. By three minutes, more serious and lasting damage is possible. By five, death would be permanent.’
‘Plenty of time,’ Ezra said confidently.
‘Are you insane?!’ Analise yelled. Her voice echoed around the room, pained and broken. ‘I don’t know how, I’m not doing this. There has to be another way.’
‘Analise, we’ve tried all the other ways,’ Lira said gently. ‘We’ve tried spells and alchemy, formulas, chemicals, surgery … it always comes back.’
‘I was tricked into this,’ Ezra declared, eyes pinned on Analise. ‘Are you going to help me trick the Devil in return?’
She glared at him; her lower lip trembled. ‘I refuse to help you self-destruct.’
‘If this works,’ Charles began, holding up a hand to forestall any argument. ‘It gives us hope—if we can save Ezra, remove the mark and take him off Asmael’s most wanted list, we can do it for others who have been marked as well.’
Analise’s eyes were burning. ‘That’s blackmail,’ she growled.
‘This is how you help us,’ Lira said, reaching for Analise’s limp hand.
Analise stared at Ezra. She wasn’t sure she was breathing.
‘I … Ezra, what is wrong with you?’ she whispered.
She slumped in her seat and put her head in her hands.
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, pulling a steady breath in through her nose.
When she lifted her head, Ezra was watching her, and the room was silent.
‘Ezra,’ she whispered, throat thick.
The others shuffled out. Jem might have said something, but Analise didn’t hear him.
‘I’m not going to kill you,’ she said.
‘I don’t particularly want to die, but I'm dead either way—and I’d rather it be you than him.’
She wanted to go and sit beside him, but her limbs refused to move.
‘I can’t believe you’re asking me to experiment on you,’ she managed. ‘I don’t want you to die. You’re annoying and insufferable, an absolute bastard half the time. You lied to me, and you make me crazy, but …’
His eyes burnt a hole through her. ‘But?’
But I like you.
But I care about you.
I forgive you.
Please don’t make me do this.
‘But I’ve grown used to you,’ Analise said eventually. ‘You taught me to cook eggs, and you tell terrible jokes, and …’
Ezra got to his feet, and headed for the door; there, he paused. When she looked at him, he gave her a shaky smile, then left before she could say anything else.
Sleep was out of reach. Analise was certain even a bottle of Maddog’s finest wouldn’t put her under, not now. The gangster had been out when Ezra broke the news. She wondered if he knew, if Father Blackwood knew. Blackwood would want her to try, he’d like Ezra’s crazy idea.
Analise’s head hurt. Her heart hurt. She wanted to march next door and slap some sense into him, but she didn’t. He didn’t need her shouting at him right now.
How could he ask her to do this?
It was a gut-reaction to what he’d learnt, and she wanted to help.
Wasn’t that why she was here? But two Familiars were dead because she didn't have a handle on what she could do. She couldn’t control her magic.
Death was stronger than life, and the power in her blood wanted to kill things, not pull them from the edge of death and offer them a second chance at living.
Two minutes was an awfully short amount of time.
Analise grabbed her coat. It was the middle of the night but she needed to speak to Charles.
If he thought there was a way this could truly work, she needed to know.
Magic might not be enough, especially since she’d already proven herself inept.
Perhaps they needed science as well. She had no idea, but being in the lab, being anywhere, would be better than pacing around her room in the dark.
She didn’t bother with a lamp. She'd been in the club long enough that she could find her way around blind. Twelve steps from the second floor to the first. Trail her fingers along the top of the bar to get her bearings. Sometimes, the street lamp outside the Canem Club would be lit, and fractured light would spill into the building through the front windows. Another twelve steps to the basement, then follow the wall straight ahead, fourteen steps down into the darkness and Charles’ lab was the second on the left.
Light shone from beneath his door. Maybe, like her, the alchemist couldn’t sleep and was digging through his books, searching for an answer. Analise pushed open the door and went in.
Charles wasn’t alone. A large man sat on a stool next to him. Charles was in his dressing gown, his feet stuffed into a pair of brown slippers. The other man was wearing a dark coat and a bowler hat, and there was something familiar in the way he held his shoulders over the bulk of his body.
Analise gasped.
The man looked up, saw her, and smiled.
At the sight of Morgan, she wanted to cry.
‘Analise,’ the mortician said tenderly, lifting himself from the stool and coming towards her. ‘I thought the Unseen finally found you—then Charles told me you were here.’
She swallowed, letting him take her hands, something she wouldn’t have done two months ago. ‘The Unseen did find me, in a way. You knew what I was?’
‘I suspected. You were too good with the dead.’
‘I thought you’d fired me. Those notes, telling me not to come in.’
He shook his head. ‘I was trying to keep you away—once the demon marks appeared and the body count was rising … I was trying to keep you safe.’
She nodded. ‘I know, but I didn’t listen.’
Morgan smiled. ‘I didn’t really expect you to. You’re too curious, too clever, too comfortable with death to stay out of it. I knew you’d find the marks, but I was hoping you’d not make the connection.’
‘I didn’t,’ Analise said. Charles was listening to them with interest. ‘You supply the Order with the bodies, I assume, considering you know about the demon marks?’
Morgan nodded. ‘The odd one here and there. Where he gets the others, I don’t know— illegally, no doubt.’
Charles grumbled something under his breath.
Analise managed a smile. ‘I should get back to bed. I wanted to ask Charles something, but it can wait.’