Something was very wrong . . .
I inspected Wrath from a safe distance. There wasn’t anything familiar about this demon. This creature left little doubt as to where he ruled. He was the most wicked of the Malvagi.
A traitorous part of me was relieved he was alive. Even though I knew he was immortal, I hadn’t fully believed he’d lived through Envy’s brutal attack. Another, wiser part of me reeled with denial that he was the one who’d come to collect my soul. Betrayal burned inside me.
I don’t know why I expected anything else from a despicable prince of Hell.
Angry tears stung my eyes. Nonna had been right about everything. The Wicked were skilled liars. Wrath had certainly fooled me with his act. He made me think he was dead. And that he’d cared. It must have greatly amused him—watching me fall under his spell. A na?ve, lonely witch who’d been desperate enough to seek help from her mortal enemy . . .
And our kiss. I’d thought I’d felt passion, heat. Another illusion cast by my enemy.
I fought a chill as he ran his gaze over me. Where it once burned with intensity, it was now frosted over. It was impossible to discern any of his thoughts. If I was to be his queen, he didn’t seem impressed. I desperately wanted to believe this was the act, that he wasn’t truly this cold and cruel. He said nothing and expressed even less. Envy, Greed, and Lust seemed downright human compared to this alien before me.
He wore a suit befitting his royal station, hands casually tucked into his pockets. A black crown with ruby-tipped thorns sat upon his head. If turned upside down, it would appear to be dripping blood. His clothing was layered charcoal and obsidian with gold stitching. Silk and velvet. If I didn’t look too closely, he appeared more angel than dark prince.
My chin inched higher, giving him a clear view of the amulets around my neck. “Demon.”
“Witch.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
His attention flicked to the containment circle where Antonio floated in a sort of suspended animation. Shadows along the ceiling grew talons. I could almost hear the rough scrape of their nails against stone. Wrath’s expression remained blank, but I imagined he didn’t expect to find a human magically imprisoned. I didn’t bother hiding my taunting smile. Let him see what I could do.
He turned a flat look on me. “Are you ready to sell your soul?”
I stared a moment, taking in this version of him. I hadn’t realized how often Wrath gazed upon me with blazing fire until it had been replaced with icy indifference. Whoever stood before me now wasn’t the same demon I thought I’d known. I wanted to step away from him, to run.
“Well?” His tone was clipped. There was victory in this demon’s gaze. No frustration, or flash of desire, or hard-won respect. I was a means to an end. Another potential witch queen to add to the list of those who’d been slaughtered before ever walking down the aisle. I tried not to think about my own uncertain fate. Even if it boiled down to living out of spite, I vowed to survive no matter who, or what, came for my heart. I had little doubt my life was in jeopardy. Wrath had told me the monsters would come for me, and that I believed. One stood before me now. “Have you decided?”
“Almost.”
He appraised me, a small frown forming. Maybe he was disappointed I wasn’t cowed by his royal presence and authority. I refused to pretend I understood anything of what he felt, or desired. I wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d fallen in love with me, but I could have sworn we’d both shifted from cool animosity to something a bit warmer. I clutched the Horn of Hades as I considered my dwindling options. The slight buzz of magic was comforting—like a hug from my grandmother. If I stayed, the gates of Hell would weaken and open, destroying everything I held dear. I’d already encountered Umbra and Aper demons, the snake-like Viperidae, and four of the terrifying seven princes of Hell.
I was lucky I’d escaped with my life, and I was harder to kill than most. The human world wasn’t equipped to deal with the carnage that hordes of demons would bring if the gates opened. I imagined Nonna wearing another ruby red necklace of blood, her eyes milky and lifeless. I saw visions of my mother and father slaughtered in our restaurant. Every innocent human in our city—lying in rotting heaps, stinking in the blazing sun.
I’d already lost my sister; I wouldn’t lose anyone else.
“I agree. Under two conditions.”
A new spark lit his gaze. Along with anger, intelligence and cunning gleamed out at me. “Very well. Let’s hear your counteroffer.”