Kingdom of the Cursed

by Kerri Maniscalco

  “That may be true, your highness, but the scroll I signed said ‘House Pride,’ didn’t it?”

  I stepped closer, heart thrashing as I crowded his space. The heat of his body radiated around me like sunshine, warm and enticing. It reminded me of home. The new ache in my chest was acute, consuming. I sharpened my tongue like a blade and aimed straight for his icy heart, hoping to penetrate the wall he’d so expertly erected between us. Wrong or not, I wanted to hurt him the way his deception had gutted me.

  “Therefore, I chose the devil, not you. How does that feel? Knowing I’d prefer to bed a monster for eternity rather than subject myself to you again, Prince Wrath.”

  His attention dropped to my lips and lingered. A seductive gleam entered his eyes as I returned the favor. He might not admit it, but he wanted to kiss me. My mouth curved into a vicious grin; finally, he’d lost that cold indifference. Too bad for him I was now forbidden.

  He stared a moment longer, then said with lethal quiet, “You choose the devil?”

  “Yes.”

  We stood near enough to share breath now. I refused to back away. And he did, too.

  “If that’s what you wish, speak it to this realm. As a matter of fact”—he yanked his dagger out from inside his suit jacket—“if you’re so certain about the devil, swear a blood oath. If pride truly is your sin of choice, I imagine you won’t say no.”

  Challenge burned in his gaze as he handed the blade to me, hilt-first. I snatched his House dagger and pressed the sharp metal to my fingertip. Wrath crossed his arms and gave me a flat look. He didn’t think I’d go through with it. Maybe it was my cursed pride, but it also felt a little like my temper was raging as I pricked my finger and handed the serpent blade back. I’d already signed Pride’s contract; there was no reason to hesitate now. What was done was done.

  “I, Emilia Maria di Carlo, freely choose the devil.”

  A single drop of blood splattered to the ground, sealing the vow. I flicked my attention to Wrath. Something ignited in the depths of his eyes, but he turned away before I could read what it was. He shoved the dagger into his jacket and started making his way toward the gates, leaving me alone at the edge of nothingness.

  I thought about running, but there was nowhere to go.

  I glanced around once more and hurried after the demon, falling into step beside him. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying desperately to stop the increasing shivers, which only succeeded in making me shudder more. Wrath had taken his warmth with him, and now the metal corset top bit into my skin with renewed vigor. If we stayed out here much longer, I’d freeze to death. I conjured memories of warmth, peace.

  I’d only ever felt this cold once—in northern Italy—and I’d been young and thrilled by the snow then. I’d thought it was romantic; now I saw the truth: it was beautifully dangerous.

  Much like my current traveling companion.

  My teeth chattered like tiny hammers, the only noise in the void. “How can we hear each other?”

  “Because I will it.”

  Arrogant beast. I released a quivering huff. It was meant to come across as exasperated, but I feared it only gave away how cold I was. A heavy velvet cloak appeared from thin air, draping itself around my shoulders. I don’t know where Wrath magicked it from and didn’t care.

  I pulled it tighter, grateful for its warmth. I opened my mouth to thank the demon but stopped myself with a swift internal shake. Wrath hadn’t acted out of kindness or even chivalry. I imagined he did it largely to make sure I didn’t die this close to accomplishing his mission.

  If I recalled correctly, delivery of my soul to Pride granted him freedom from the underworld. Something he once said he prized above all else.

  How exceptionally marvelous for him. His stay was over just as mine was beginning. And all he had to do was betray me to secure his heart’s greatest desire.

  I supposed I understood that well enough.

  Wrath continued toward the gate and didn’t look in my direction again. He pressed a hand to the column closest to us and whispered a word in a foreign tongue, too low for me to hear. Gold light pulsed from his palm and flowed into the black gemstone.

  A moment later, the gates slowly creaked open. I couldn’t see what lay beyond and my mind promptly crafted all sorts of terrible things. The demon prince offered no formal invitation; he prowled toward the opening he’d made without bothering to see if I followed.

  I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. No matter what was waiting for us, I’d do what I must to achieve my goals. I nestled into my cloak and started forward.

  Wrath paused on the threshold to the underworld and finally deigned to look at me again. His expression was harsher than his tone, which halted me in my tracks.

  “A word of caution.”

  “We’re about to enter Hell,” I said sardonically. “The caution speech may be a little late.”

  He was not amused. “In the Seven Circles there are three rules to abide by. First, don’t ever reveal your true fears.”

  I hadn’t planned to. “Why?”

  “This world will turn itself inside out to torture you.” I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand. “Second, control your desires or they will taunt you with illusions easily confused with reality. You had a taste of what that’s like when you met Lust. Each of your desires will be magnified tenfold here, particularly when we enter the Sin Corridor.”

  “The Sin Corridor.” I didn’t pose it as a question, but Wrath answered anyway.

  “New subjects of the realm are tested to see which royal House their dominant sin aligns best with. You will experience a certain… prodding… of emotions as you pass through it.”

  “I signed my soul to Pride. Why do I need to see where I’m best suited?”

  “Live long enough to find that answer out yourself.”

  I swallowed my rising discomfort. Nonna always cautioned that bad news came in threes, which meant the worst was yet to come. “The third rule is…”

  His attention slid to the finger I’d pricked. “Be cautious when making blood bargains with a prince of Hell. And under no circumstances should you ever make one involving the devil. What’s his is his. Only a fool would fight or challenge him.”

  I ground my teeth together. The true games of deception had clearly begun. His warning vaguely reminded me of a note from our family grimoire, and I wondered how we’d come to hold that knowledge. I tucked those thoughts away, focusing instead on my growing anger.

  He was no doubt stoking my emotions with his namesake power. Which enraged me all the more. “Signing my soul away wasn’t quite good enough. So you resorted to trickery. At least you’re consistent.”

  “Someday you’ll see it as a favor.”

  Unlikely. I curled my injured hand into a fist. Wrath met my gaze again, and a smile tugged at the corners of his sensuous mouth. He undoubtedly sensed my growing fury.

  One day, soon enough, I would make him pay for this.

  I gave him a dazzling smile, letting myself imagine how good it would feel when I finally destroyed him. His expression shuttered and he inclined his head—as if reading my every thought and emotion and silently vowed to do the same. In this hatred we were united.

  Holding his intense stare, I nodded back, thankful for his treachery. It was the last time I’d fall for his lies. With any luck, though, it would be the start of him and his wicked brothers falling for mine. I’d need to play my role well, or I’d end up dead like the other witch brides.

  I brushed past him and strode through the gates of Hell as if I owned them. “Take me to my new home. I’m ready to greet my dear husband.”

  TWO

  From the darkness of the cave we exited onto a gleaming mountaintop tundra.

  I blinked away the sudden stinging in my eyes and beheld this cruel, unforgiving world. Goddess curse me. This was as far away from home as I could get.

  There was no sea, no warmth, no brightly burning sun. We stood in the hollow of a s
teep snow-covered trail, barely wide enough to walk on side by side.

  A biting wind snarled through the craggy mountain pass and tore through my cloak. Behind us the gates closed with a clank that echoed loudly between the snowcapped mountains. I tensed at the unexpected clamor. It was the first noise I’d heard outside the void and it couldn’t sound more foreboding if it tried.

  I spun around, heart thundering, and watched demon magic spring up from the bowels of this land and slither up the gates. The same violet-blue thorn-covered vines that had bound Vittoria’s diary wound through eye sockets and jawbones, twisting until the off-white skulls glowed with an icy, unearthly hue.

  Cold air cut my breath short. I was trapped in the underworld, surrounded by the Malvagi, alone. I’d acted out of fear and desperation—two essential ingredients in creating a disaster. A flash of my twin’s desecrated body stamped that feeling into the frozen ground.

  “You told me the gates were broken.” There was an impressive bite in my tone. “That demons were slipping through, ready to wage war on Earth.”

  “The Horn of Hades has been returned.”

  “Of course.”

  The devil’s horns were needed to lock the gates. Apparently any demon prince could wield them, and I hadn’t known to ask Wrath for clarification. It was another way he’d worked around the “not being able to directly lie to me” rule of my summoning.

  If that part was even true.

  I loosened a breath and shifted back around, staring out at the landscape. On our right a sharp drop-off was carved through the frost-coated terrain. In the distance, barely visible through either a covering of fog or a far-off storm, turrets on a castle reached up, pointing spindly fingers of accusation at the heavens.

  “Is that…” I swallowed hard. “Is that where Pride lives?”

  “Not so anxious to meet him now?” A smug expression ghosted across Wrath’s features before he schooled his face into indifference. “The first circle is Lust’s territory. Think of the layout like the Seven Hills of Rome. Each prince controls their own region or summit. Pride’s circle cannot be seen from here. It sits toward the center, near my House.”

  Being so close to Lust’s stronghold wasn’t comforting. I hadn’t forgotten how his demonic influence had made me feel. How I’d lusted after Wrath and drank too much apple-honey wine and had danced without a care in the universe while a murderer hunted witches.

  I’d also never forget how hard it had been to crawl back to my senses after Lust had cruelly wrested his powers away, leaving me an empty husk. If it hadn’t been for Wrath’s interference, I might still be in that dark, crushing place.

  I could almost feel despair trailing a sharp nail across my throat now, begging, tempting… I pretended that the growing fear was muck beneath my shoes and squashed it.

  Wrath watched me closely, his gaze alight with keen interest. Perhaps he was waiting for me to drop to my knees and beg him to escort me back home. It would take far more than standing in the coldest corner of Hell for me to ever lower myself before him.

  “I thought it would be warmer,” I admitted, earning an amused look from the demon. “Fire and brimstone—the works.”

  “Mortals have peculiar cautionary tales about gods and monsters and their supposed creator, but the truth, as you can see, is very different from what you’ve heard.”

  I was distracted from further inquiry by a soft clicking. Up a dizzying incline on our left, a smattering of bare-branched trees stood, swaying in the arctic wind, their limbs lightly clacking against one another. Something about them reminded me of old crones sitting together, using bones as knitting needles. If I narrowed my eyes, I almost swore I saw the shadowy outline of their figures. I blinked and the image was gone. Almost immediately after, a low growl floated in on the wind.

  I glanced at Wrath, but he didn’t seem to notice the peculiar vision or hear anything worthy of note. It had been a very long, very emotionally charged day and my imagination was getting the better of me. I shook the unsettling feeling away.

  “This is the Sin Corridor,” Wrath continued, unknowingly interrupting my worries. “Transvenio magic is forbidden on this stretch of land the first time you cross into this realm, so you’ll need to travel by foot.”

  “I have to do it alone?”

  Wrath raked his attention over me. “No.”

  I released a slow, quiet breath. Thank the goddess for small favors. “Why is it necessary for people to pass through here?”

  “It is a way for newcomers to form alliances with others who share their dominant sin.”

  I considered that. “If I tend toward anger, I’d be best aligned with House Wrath.” The prince nodded. “And others who are best suited to other sins… would they be put off by other demon houses? Let’s say a member of House Wrath consorted with House Sloth; would they be scandalized by the other in some way?”

  “Not exactly scandalized, but close. Mortals align themselves with political parties and causes. It’s not unlike that here, but we deal in vice.”

  “Are demons and humans tested the same way?”

  Wrath seemed to choose his next words carefully. “Most mortals never reach the Sin Corridor, or the Seven Circles. They tend to imprison themselves on their own separate isle outside the gates, off the western shore. It’s a self-inflicted punishment of sorts.”

  “You don’t lock them away in the Prison of Damnation?”

  “The isle is the prison. They live in a reality of their own making. At any point they can leave. Most never do. They live and die on their isle and begin again.”

  It was a hell in its own way. “Nonna said Star Witches were the guardians between realms. Why would mortals and the Wicked need guards if they never leave?”

  “Maybe mortal souls—and my brothers—are not all they keep watch over.”

  Vague and frustrating as always. “I still don’t understand why I need to be tested at all.”

  “Then I suggest you heed my earlier warning and focus on surviving.”

  He issued it as both a challenge and a haughty command to stop asking questions. I was too worried to verbally spar. Threat of death hung over me, low and dark like the gathering clouds. The stupid prince dragged his gaze over me again, letting it linger on my soft curves.

  I wasn’t wearing my amulet—he still had possession of it—so there was no confusing where his focus landed. Even covered by the cloak, I swore I felt the heat of his attention like a physical caress on my skin.

  Thoughts of death vanished. “Is there a problem with my bodice?”

  “Seems as if your testing has begun. I was checking your cloak.”

  I exhaled slowly and bit down on several colorful curses that sprang to mind.

  He smirked as if my annoyance pleased him to no end. Still grinning, he swiftly moved down the steep mountain pass, his steps steady and sure despite the snow and ice.

  I couldn’t believe… was he packing the snow down so I could walk through it in my delicate shoes? Impeccable demon manners hard at work again.

  He really would do anything to see me safely delivered to Pride.

  Speaking of that particular sin… I lifted my chin, my tone and demeanor more supercilious than any mortal king or queen born to rule could ever hope to achieve. And why shouldn’t I feel superior? I was about to rule the underworld. It was time Wrath showed some respect to his queen. “I am perfectly able to make my own way. You may run off now.”

  “I did not take you for the sort to cut off their nose to spite their face.”

  “If I cannot walk through snow without assistance, I might as well slit my throat now and be done with it. I do not need you or anyone else to hold my hand. In fact, I would like you to leave me alone. I’ll make better time without you.”

  He stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. There was no warmth or teasing in his expression now. “Fight the Sin Corridor, or I will leave you to your prideful hubris. You are more susceptible to falling under the influ
ence of a particular sin when showing early attributes of it. That is my final warning and all the help I will give. Take it for what it is, or leave it.”

  I gritted my teeth and did my best to follow his trail. With each step I took deeper into the underworld, it felt like the remaining pieces of myself were slowly shedding. I couldn’t help but wonder if anything familiar would be left of me by the time I returned home.

  As if in answer to my circling worries, a simmering rage started to burn through me as we traveled for miles in silence. Undoubtedly, I was now being tested for wrath. It was familiar, welcome. Even though I should make sure I aligned best with pride, I tended to my anger while we picked our way down the trail, crossed over a frozen stream, and paused near a slightly wider, flatter expanse that peered over a smaller mountain range.

  Clusters of evergreens that looked like the juniper and cedar sketches in Nonna’s grimoire fanned out in a semicircle around the easternmost corner where we’d paused.

  Above them, angry clouds raced across the sky. Lightning lashed out like a great beast’s tongue, and a roar of thunder followed a heartbeat later. Unblinking, I watched as the dark mass galloped closer. I’d witnessed plenty of storms, but none that moved faster than the goddesses who sought vengeance. It was as if the very atmosphere was possessed.

  Or perhaps this world resented its newest inhabitant and was making its displeasure known. It had that much in common with Wrath.

  A few minutes later, we stopped our relentless march.

  “This will have to do.”

  Wrath removed his suit jacket and draped it carefully over a low-hanging branch. I’d been wrong earlier: his dagger wasn’t shoved into his jacket; he wore a leather shoulder holster over his inky shirt, and the gold hilt gleamed as he twisted around. He undid the buttons at his cuffs, quickly rolled back his sleeves, then began gathering ice-coated branches.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Building shelter. Unless you’d like to sleep in a storm, I suggest grabbing some evergreen branches and beating ice off them. We’ll use the ones you collect to lay on.”