Chapter 39
Analise studied her reflection, watching her lips curl as she made herself smile. She did it again, trying to get used to the feeling and the way it looked. The action still felt at odds with the rest of her face.
She didn’t know how to make the smile reach her eyes.
When Lira smiled, her eyes smiled as well, and when Ezra smiled—truly smiled, not grinned or smirked, his whole face came alive with it.
Jem’s smiles were fleeting. Even Hernan, who manned the door of the Club each night, was more liberal with his smiles than Jem.
Tonight, Analise was going to be sociable. She was going to go downstairs and talk to people. A smile would probably help. She spent twenty minutes practising what she hoped was a welcoming smile; one that said, ‘nice to meet you,’ rather than, ‘I’m a death witch and I’ve spent my life in hiding.’
Analise stepped back from the mirror so she could see more of herself.
Her brows were delicately arched, not too thin and not too bushy.
In the flickering candle light, her cheekbones stood out, but her jaw line was soft, decidedly feminine.
There was nothing extraordinary about her nose, but she thought it suited her face well enough.
Then her lips, lush and plump—men always claimed they liked her lips, and Analise supposed she did as well.
Tonight, her eyes appeared flecked with gold, but maybe that was a trick of the light.
She was wearing a heavy black skirt and high-necked, black blouse that left her arms bare from the elbow to the wrist. She looked like death. At least her hair broke the darkness that shrouded the rest of her. It seemed fitting, after all.
Analise made her way to the bar. For a moment, she was suspended on the edge of a sea of people.
She stood on tiptoe, craning her neck and cursing her short stature.
Ezra was on the far side of the room, his blond hair unmistakable in a sea of slicked dark locks.
Jem, Tobias, and a few other men Analise didn’t know were with him.
She took note of the easy smiles and the laughter, at Tobias’ expense, by the dark look on the other man’s face.
Ezra was happy. She’d leave him be, even though she wanted nothing more than to sit with him and soak up the relaxed air he was capable of creating.
He made her feel comfortable, and that surprised her.
Analise usually relied on herself for comfort.
What surprised her more was that she slept better when he was beside her.
She still dreamt of the man in the white suit, but there were no more hands bursting through the earth, no more gravestones gilded by milky moonlight.
The man always talked to her, but for some reason, she could no longer hear his voice.
Analise seated herself at the bar, deciding she’d have one drink only, to celebrate.
She’d managed to live in a pub and not drink herself into oblivion on a regular basis.
With the dreams under control, she didn’t need to.
Cigar smoke tickled her nose and conversation rose and fell around her like a wave but rather than be annoyed by it, she soaked it up.
As a glass was placed in front of her, someone appeared at her side.
Analise turned to give them a smile but it fell from her lips before it had even formed.
She was looking at her Familiar.
His hair was the same dark shade, but everything else about him was different. There was life in those eyes. They were blue, not black and his skin was a normal, healthy, human tone.
‘I found you,’ he breathed, removing his hat and clutching it to his chest.
Analise smiled broadly. ‘It’s John, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘I wanted to say thank you for what you did. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m eternally grateful.’
‘It was my pleasure. I was told you didn’t remember me?’
‘I didn’t, at first, but after I returned home and the confusion wore off, I realised I knew your face—you were familiar to me. Sorry, wrong choice of words,’ he added sheepishly.
Analise smiled again, and he smiled back. He was so different. She’d done that. Her magic had returned his life, as it did Ezra’s. She remembered her manners, and offered him a drink. He shook his head.
‘I’ve come to ask a favour—another one,’ John said. ‘My mother, she’s dying.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Analise murmured.
‘My sister tells me she has been sick for some time, and the physician says she doesn’t have long. I only wish I had more time to spend with her. I missed so much when I wasn’t myself.’
‘I’m sorry about your mother.’ Analise licked her lips. ‘Can I ask, why? Why make the deal?’
John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Life in this place is awful. I got a better offer, or so I thought. He promised me …’
‘Go on,’ Analise prompted. This was something she needed to know.
His eyes touched on hers, then he looked away. ‘He promised to give my life purpose. When I think about that now, I realise how ridiculous it was to think someone could give me that.’
Analise finished her drink. ‘It’s not ridiculous. Everyone wants to feel that they’ve got something to offer.’
John stared at his hands for a long time, then cleared his throat nervously. ‘Would you come and see my mother? She respects the Daughters of Lilith greatly,’ he explained, then shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’
Analise could do this one thing. She may have changed but her respect for the dead and the dying hadn’t altered. She glanced around, spying Lira at the far end of the bar chatting to a woman with chestnut hair. ‘Can I bring my friend?’
‘The dark-haired woman?’ John followed Analise’s gaze. ‘Of course. I need to thank her for helping me after, well, after I became myself again.’
‘I won’t be a moment.’ Analise slid off her stool and weaved through bodies until she reached Lira’s side. The other woman moved away with a polite nod in Analise’s direction.
‘You made it further than the stairs this time. I’m impressed,’ Lira joked, lighting a cigarette. ‘There are people here, Analise.’
Analise grinned. ‘And, you’ll never guess who’s here—John, my Familiar.’ She nodded at the other end of the bar, where John was waiting. He lifted a hand and waved.
Lira’s eyes widened. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘He came to find me. He says he remembers me after all. I guess he was in shock after being released.’ Analise told Lira what John asked of her. Somewhere behind them, a cheer went up. She guessed someone had won a hand of cards or whatever it was people did in a club.
Lira chewed her lip. ‘Well, I suppose it’s alright. But I don’t want you to go alone.’
‘Will you come? I’d ask Ezra, but—’ She gestured in the direction of the card tables. ‘He’s currently curating his fortune, by the looks of it.’
‘Or possibly losing it.’ Lira grinned. ‘No one beats my brother at cards. I’ll get our coats.’
John was waiting and as they approached the doors, Hernan eyed him suspiciously, before nodding politely at them as they left.
John walked briskly, and Analise and Lira had to hurry to match his pace.
He thanked them, talking as fast as he walked, telling them all about his sister and the children she’d had while he was trapped in his own head.
They slowed to let a group of men pass them. Blackcoln Road was as busy as usual—Analise smiled fondly. She’d missed being out on the streets at night, watching people go about their lives.
‘What exactly do you remember?’ Lira asked John. ‘I’m sorry, it’s … you’re the first we’ve ever brought back.’
John’s sigh was regretful. ‘There was always a voice in my head—his, Asmael’s—and I would try … It was like beating my hands against a window and not being able to get out. I was trapped inside myself. I had no choice, no say in any of it.’
They crossed Blackcoln Road once a carriage had trundled past, and Analise realised they were near her old lodging house. She stopped, looking up at the darkened window, John beside her.
‘I know this view well,’ he murmured. ‘You must have been terrified, seeing me down here looking up at you all the time.’
Analise shook her head. ‘I wasn’t, not really. I never felt you were going to hurt me.’
‘I wouldn’t have,’ he said quickly, then looked away. They kept walking, turning into another street. John led them around a corner, and they passed beneath a flickering lamp. They were the only people in the street; the sounds of Blackcoln Road were a long way away.
Lira stopped walking. ‘This isn’t the way we went last time.’
Analise frowned, turning to look at her. ‘What?’
‘This isn’t the way he took Tobias and I last time,’ Lira said in a low voice. Up ahead of them, John stopped. Slowly, he turned to face them and Analise gasped as he withdrew a pistol from the folds of his coat. There was no smile on his face now, and his blue eyes were cold.
‘What are you doing?’ she cried.
‘We don’t need her.’ John pointed the gun at Lira, and fired.
The bullet hit Lira in the chest, between her collarbone and her heart.
‘No!’ Analise screamed.
Lira fell to her knees. Analise knelt beside her, placing her trembling hand over the wound. Blood seeped between her fingers, hot and sticky. Lira’s breathing was ragged, eyes wide.
John grabbed Analise around the arm and hauled her to her feet.
She spun to face him, magic in her fingertips, and gasped.
His face flickered, and her heart sank as his eyes slowly morphed from sky blue to black.
She hadn’t done anything.
‘He’s waiting.’
‘Analise,’ Lira groaned, trying to get to her feet. Her blouse was soaked in blood. Analise struggled in John’s grip, but he was inhumanly strong. He shook her, hard enough to rattle her brain in her skull.
‘Come with me or the next shot is between her eyes,’ he hissed, putting his face close to Analise’s.
‘I’m not leaving her here,’ Analise snarled. Magic curled around her hands.
‘If you try to use that magic of yours on me, I’ll shoot you,’ John warned, and Analise felt the muzzle of his pistol kiss her ribs through her coat.
She had no choice but to let him lead her away.
As he dragged her around a corner, she caught a glimpse of Lira, still on her knees, bleeding into the night.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Analise demanded, but John wouldn’t answer her.
His face flickered again, his skin slowly shifting from a healthy, living glow to the corpse-pale she was most accustomed to.
His lips lost their colour, and his fingers on her arm grew icy enough that she could feel the chill of them through her coat.
‘I never freed you, did I?’ she asked, panting as they turned another corner. She flung her hand out, letting a wisp of magic free as she trailed her fingers along the brickwork of the building.
John glanced at her. ‘Your magic cannot stand against my master’s, no matter how much you might wish it. I chose him, you understand? Why would I let you take him from me?’
Analise swallowed, pulling against his arm, collapsing against a lamppost.
‘Get moving,’ the Familiar commanded.
‘Give me a moment,’ she snapped.
John tugged her away, tucking his arm in hers, pressing the gun against her ribs again.
Wherever she could, Analise touched a wall, a lamppost, and a stationary carriage.
She pretended to stumble and fell to her knees, making sure her hand brushed the pavement before the Familiar yanked her to her feet, and they continued on.
Come on, Ezra, she prayed silently. Please work it out.