“Listen, this little alliance will work much better if you elaborate without constant prompting. Pretend I know nothing about your wicked ways. Testing her blood for what?”
“Forgive me, your highness.” A small smile played across his face. “I was testing it for any hints of a demon House she might have aligned herself with.”
“Like the blood trade you offered me?”
He nodded.
“What did you discover when you tested Vittoria’s blood?”
“She hadn’t yet aligned herself with anyone. But that doesn’t mean she hadn’t interacted with a prince of Hell.”
“So even though I summoned you here, no one would know you and I are… working together… without a blood trade, right?”
“Correct.”
Blood and bones. That meant Vittoria could have summoned Greed or even Envy, and, if she hadn’t agreed to a blood trade, there was no way to track that.
“Do you think Greed or Envy would want to stop Pride from marrying?”
He considered that. “Greed enjoys ruling his House, so no. And Envy wouldn’t attempt anything that would bring war to his House. He’s more likely to brood about all the things he doesn’t have and wants, but lacks the ambition to take it.”
Conversation over, Wrath shifted back around with his candle, and something caught my attention. I bent down, scraping a bit of wax with my nail. The wax was pale rose. I suddenly remembered the candles that had been here that horrible night. I moved my light in a slow arc to see the floor better. Another smaller wax splotch was gray. I rotated, spying the same alternating pink and gray wax impressions.
This was definitely the place where Vittoria had created a summoning circle. “Envy said the others will come looking for me, did he mean your brothers?”
“I imagine so.”
“Could he mean the Umbra demons, too?”
“Perhaps.”
I stared daggers at the demon prince. After he went out of his way to save my life, I wanted to scream over his short responses. I thought again about his inability to directly lie to me and narrowed my eyes. “What did he mean about not knowing the future?”
“I wasn’t there. I’m not sure exactly what he was referencing.” Wrath avoided my gaze. “He could just be using it as a fear tactic to get inside your head.”
“What’s a shadow witch?”
He flicked his attention to me, and gave me a look that said if I didn’t know, he wasn’t going to be the one to tell me. I shot him a glare that promised a long, violent death if he didn’t start talking. He relented. “You’ve got a bit more demon blood in you than other witches.”
“That can’t be true. You’re—” I shut my mouth. He couldn’t lie, but there was no way what he said was true. Our family was goddess blessed, not daughters of darkness. “How would that even be possible?”
He arched a brow. “You do know how children are made, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Good. Saves me from explaining how one of your ancestors had a fine romp with a demon, and produced an heir. Probably not so distantly if Envy could tell by… looking.”
“My grandmother said we were guardians between realms. And that ‘shadow witch’ was the nasty name the Wicked gave us.”
His attention was fully on me now, and I suddenly didn’t want him knowing anything regarding my family’s secret history. I nodded at the candle wax, changing the subject. “I remember thinking the air smelled like thyme. And paraffin. Is that proof she tried summoning Pride?”
“No. Pale rose and gray candles are used by House Greed.” He walked around the chamber. “Thyme and copper are also required when summoning a demon who belongs to that court.”
“Demons can only be summoned using the right color candles?”
“Among other things, yes. Demon courts are broken down into seven royal Houses. Each have their own rituals and requirements. Candle colors, plants, time of day, objects of intent, and metals all vary.”
I pointed to the objects around us. “None of this can be used to summon Pride? Or does having the Horn of Hades negate that part of the summoning spell requirement?”
“Even if your sister had possession of both horns, it still wouldn’t work without the correct candles, metals, and plants.” He held his candle up. “Whatever happened in this chamber that night, I know your sister didn’t summon Pride. And it doesn’t look like she was trying to, either.”
“She told me she was.”
Wrath watched me closely. “It’s impossible to know what her intentions were. She very well might have wanted to summon him, but changed her mind along the way. Or, if she did attempt to summon him, she didn’t do that here.”
I collected my growing frustration. If she didn’t summon Pride, that meant Greed was to blame. He had to be. I thought about the attack on Nonna, and his desire to have the Horn of Hades. It made sense that Greed wouldn’t be content being a prince of Hell when he could become the king of demons. Part of his sin included never being satisfied, always wanting more. Not caring who or what was destroyed in the pursuit of his goals.
Unexpected fury rose in me, and coiled around every inch of the room. It was so powerful, my knees almost buckled from it.
“I vow on my blood that I’ll destroy the demon who did this to Vittoria, and take pleasure in doing it.” Wrath glanced at me sharply and, judging from his flash of surprise, I imagined my gaze went nearly black. My emotions were getting stronger, darker. I blamed proximity to the warrior prince. If Envy inspired feelings of jealousy in me, it made sense that Wrath—intentionally or not—stoked my anger. “You will help me interrogate Greed again. And if I can’t kill him, you will.”
My sister’s amulet glowed an unearthly purple. Wrath’s focus drifted to it, then back to my face. I’d put it on after I’d stolen it from the Viperidae. So far, the gates of Hell hadn’t sprung open, and Wrath hadn’t tried cutting it off my neck.
“Impressive as your rousing speech and temper is, I won’t be bringing war to anyone. And neither will you. At least not without irrefutable proof. The likelihood of it being Greed is very slim.”
“Then how did he get here? Someone summoned him.” I tossed an arm around the chamber. “From the looks of it, he was summoned in this room.”
“Not necessarily. Aside from Pride, princes of Hell can travel here on their own. Plus, there is no trace of Greed’s power in this chamber. Unless your sister had a personal object belonging to him, it’s far more likely she—or whoever else may have set up this particular circle—summoned one of his subjects. And there are thousands of them.”
“But there’s only one demon prince from that House who’s currently in Palermo. I don’t see thousands of other demons running around here, do you?”
“Are you asking rhetorically or do you expect an answer?”
I opened my mouth and shut it. I had so many more questions about the demon realm, but could almost see Wrath begging me to ask them. I decided today wasn’t so lucky for him.
“What kind of object would she need to summon Greed? A dagger, like yours?” I couldn’t remember seeing the blade on him when I paid his gambling den a visit. More evidence that he was summoned. “Maybe it’s still in our bedroom.”
“Afraid not.” He shook his head. “It would have been here the night she was murdered. Whoever killed her must have taken it when they left. There’s no scent in here that can be traced, though. If it’s a demon, I’ll have to track it a different way.”
“Unless you were right earlier and she didn’t actually summon a demon,” I mused aloud. “Maybe she stumbled upon someone else trying to summon Greed and they killed her. Or maybe they’d summoned a lesser demon and it attacked.”
Because the manner in which her heart had been ripped out… only some terrible creature could have done that. I wouldn’t let myself forget that I knew of only one demon who was in this chamber with my murdered twin, mere moments after she’d lost her life.
No Pride. No Greed. No clues. This excursion wasn’t going as planned.
I thought about the grimoire sheets I’d found. Wrath said certain color candles and objects were required when summoning a particular demon House. Trouble was, neither of the two sheets Vittoria had contained a spell that included pink and gray candles. Anger built inside me again, needing a release. Or a target.
“It’s funny.” The air was warm, but the blade I pressed into Wrath’s back felt like ice in my hands. He stopped breathing. “You can’t lie, and I believe that’s true enough, but why can’t I find evidence to support your claims of innocence?”
“Are you asking me to comment on your own perceived incompetence?”
“Did you place the candles here as evidence that night to shift blame to Greed? You must have realized my sister had summoning spells for your House, and it would implicate you.”
“I was unaware you summoned me using any spell other than your own. I’ve never had contact with your sister, aside from the night I discovered her body. You do recall that I need to find out who’s killing the witches, too, correct? Maybe more than you do.”
“Why? Because of the curse?”
“If we’re to simplify, yes.”
“Tell me everything about it. I want to know who cursed the devil, why, and why it matters to me or this world.” He tossed a look over his shoulder that said that line of questioning wouldn’t be answered, regardless of the dagger. I considered stabbing him anyway, but it would probably only end with him refusing to answer any other questions. “Have you been pretending my protection charm works?”
“If I was pretending, why wouldn’t I have snapped your neck or used my influence by now? It’s certainly not because I enjoy your spellbinding company.”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t shove this blade through your heart. That is how you can die, isn’t it? By your own weapon. And only in that one spot.”
“Hardly.”
“Are you sure?” I angled the tip of the blade against his spine. “I think you’re omitting the truth. Know why?”
“Enlighten me.”
“I feel your gaze on me when you think I’m not paying attention. You track the dagger every time I move. You need to know where it is. That’s why Envy was surprised I had it. You’re almost immortal, except for that one little weakness. So, oh, mighty Prince Wrath, if you don’t want to die tonight, tell me why Pride really sent you here.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Wrath spun around and leaned forward, pressing the tip of his dagger into his chest before I could even blink. A drop of blood slipped down the metal, briefly illuminating it. I stared mutely as the demon’s wound healed before my eyes.
He angled his head down. If either of us moved, our lips would touch. I didn’t so much as breathe too deeply. “A dagger to the heart hurts, witch, but it’ll take much more than that to destroy a prince of Hell. If you still think I’m lying, go ahead and stab me.”
A wild part of me wished to test the theory, if only to determine if he was being honest. Another, quieter part still reeling with grief wanted to hand him the blade and see if my protection charm really worked. I decided now wasn’t the time for foolish risks and sheathed his weapon.
I stepped away from him, trying not to think of it as retreating. He made no move to stop or pursue me, only watched as I put a few feet of space between us.
“Will you at least tell me about the curse? I think we could—”
Wrath set his candle on the stone altar and was before me a breath later. And he was entirely too close—his back brushed against my chest. I lifted my hands, ready to shove him, when I heard the faint sound of footsteps heading our way.
“Did you tell anyone we were coming here?” Wrath asked. I shook my head, terrified Greed or Envy had tracked us. Wrath’s body was coiled, ready to strike. I did my best to calm my breaths.
“Hello?” A familiar, deep voice called out from the corridor.
“Blood and bones.” I threw my head back and groaned. “Not now.”
Wrath shot me a look over his shoulder. “Someone you know?”
I nodded and the demon relaxed his fighting stance. Light from a lantern preceded our visitor into the room, and I internally cursed the interruption. Wrath stepped aside and appeared downright jovial at my annoyance. I ignored him as Antonio walked in and promptly halted.
“Emilia.” Antonio’s gaze warmed when it landed on me, only to narrow when he saw I wasn’t alone. He glanced between me and my minacious companion, clearly at a loss for words. “I heard voices…” His focus drifted back to Wrath, took in the serpent tattoo that started from the top of the demon’s hand, coiled around his wrist, and disappeared up his sleeve. Then his gaze shifted between the matching ink on both of our forearms. His look was unreadable. Antonio stood straighter. “Is everything all right?”
Wrath inspected Antonio in a way that sent goose bumps skittering over my body.
I quickly put myself between them and offered my old friend a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry if we were too loud. I asked…” I hesitated. I couldn’t very well call him “Wrath.” The demon prince shifted into view. He gave me a slight shake of his head. It was hard to tell if it was a warning to not give his name, or if he was simply getting a better look at my discomfort. “My friend Samael is visiting and we wanted to light a candle for Vittoria.”
Antonio didn’t seem convinced and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t a very good actress. I really hoped he didn’t keep asking questions. If I had to guess, lying to a holy man in a place of worship in the presence of a demon who was on a secret mission for the devil was probably bad luck. “Unusual name,” he finally said. “Where did you say he was visiting from?”
“She didn’t. Would you like to fetch us some sacramental wine and delve into my lineage?” Wrath flashed a look that bordered on predatory. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, either. Especially if you’re such a good friend of my Emilia’s.”
Wrath said the word “friend” like he thought Antonio was anything but. My mouth hung open for an entirely different reason, though. I couldn’t begin to understand why Wrath had said “my Emilia’s.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure if the demon even remembered my name since he only ever tossed around “witch.”
Antonio seemed just as stunned. “Your—”
“Apologies, Antonio.” I recovered quickly and shot Wrath a warning look as I slipped my arm through the fratello’s, swiftly angling him toward the door. I’d wager anything the Prince of Wrath was only trying to make my friend angry so he could siphon those emotions, just like Envy had done to me. “You’ll have to forgive his rudeness; his journey was long and it’s not under the most pleasant circumstances.”
Antonio’s arm had a surprising bit of muscle hidden beneath his robes, but he didn’t try and stop me as I guided him into the corridor.
“Is it all right if we stay for a few more minutes to say our prayers?”
Antonio looked down into my eyes, and his expression softened. “Of course. I’ll be in the next corridor near the colatoio if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
I exhaled as he slowly made his way down the hall toward the preparation room, waiting until his lantern could no longer be seen before I reentered the chamber. Wrath leaned against the altar and stared at me, one brow arched. It was one of the most human expressions I’d ever seen him wear. “Samael, really? That was the best name you could come up with?”
“He was a prince of Rome and an angel of death. I’d say that sounds pretty fitting. You’re more than welcome to tell me your real name. Then you won’t have to get your undergarments twisted about ones I make up
.”
He strode over to me, stopping at an almost decent space. “Do not ever call me that again. I am no angel, witch. Never make that mistake.”
“You don’t say. And here I was under the impression most humans considered Samael the devil.” I brushed past him and went back to the traces of wax left from Vittoria’s summoning circle. “Do you—”
“Have you and that human ever shared a bed?”
I spun around, completely taken off guard by his question. I expected to see a smirk or sneer and wasn’t prepared for the genuine curiosity I found. I wasn’t sure which was more disturbing. “First, that’s none of your business. And second, why would you ask such an asinine thing? In case you didn’t notice, he’s a man of God.”
“He hasn’t always been.”
I clamped my mouth shut. He’d only recently become a member of the brotherhood, and it hadn’t stopped me from pining over him. Truth was, I often dreamed of him trailing kisses down my throat, knotting his fist in my hair, and choosing me instead of his holy brotherhood.
Right before he took that oath, I swore he seemed interested in pursing a romance with me. He’d stop by Sea & Vine, offer to walk me home and linger outside my door. A few times I was convinced he was working up the nerve to steal a kiss. He’d chatter nervously about his favorite books. Vittoria would waggle her brows and slip inside, leaving me alone with him, but he never closed the distance between us.
And none of that mattered now. For multiple reasons.
“Are you able to find anything useful here to help us with Vittoria’s murder?”
“Your pulse is pounding.” Wrath made to reach for the vein in my neck, but stopped shy of making contact with my skin. “Just like your human’s when I claimed you. Odd for such a pious man to get so jealous.”
His attention moved across my face, and he took his time shifting it to my eyes, my lips, tracing each curve and whirl of the tattoo my fluttering sleeves couldn’t hide. Wildflowers continued to bloom across each of our arms along with vibrant frangipani blossoms. It must have happened after the spell he’d used to save me. He studied me carefully, as if he was imagining what Antonio saw, and slid his focus down inch by inch until he’d taken in everything from my face to my sandals then dragged it back up just as slowly. I had little doubt that he’d catalogued minute details and stored them away for future analysis. Perhaps he was memorizing my size for a coffin.
Kingdom of the Wicked Page 16
