Nonna glanced up. “Come sit, Emilia. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“That’s all right, Nonna. I can fix something.”
I went to the ice box and almost burst into tears when I saw the pitcher of limoncello wine Vittoria had made for me. No one had touched it.
I quickly shut the door, and perched on the edge of the closest stool.
“Here.” Nonna set a bowl of sweetened ricotta in front of me, her expression kind. “Desserts always go down easy.”
I pushed the creamy concoction around. “Do you think someone found out . . . what we are? Maybe Vittoria joked about the devil or demons to the wrong human.”
“No, bambina. I don’t believe it was a human who attacked her at all. Not with the signs we’ve been receiving. Or the blood debt.”
I’d forgotten all about the mysterious blood debt. It seemed an entire lifetime had passed since Nonna first mentioned it. “You believe the blood debt is responsible for Vittoria’s murder?”
“Mmh. It was part of an ancient bargain struck between La Prima and the devil. Some believe La Prima cursed the Wicked, others believe the devil cursed witches. A warning came one day: ‘When witch blood spills across Sicily, take your daughters and hide. The Malvagi have arrived.’ Now there’s been three witch murders.”
“It doesn’t mean the Wicked killed them. What about witch hunters? Don’t you think that sounds more logical than demon royalty breaking out of Hell? You know as well as I do how much humans fear witches, and how willing they are to commit the very sins they accuse us of. In fact, Antonio said a village not far from here is convinced shape-shifters have been cavorting with a goddess. Maybe someone like that saw Vittoria whisper a charm and killed her.”
“The devil stirred the seas and made the sky bleed. What more will convince you that danger is knocking at our door that has nothing to do with mortals? What use do humans have with witch hearts?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger building inside me. This wasn’t the time to believe stories passed down from generations ago. Now was the time to consider the facts that made the most sense. Starting with the first victim in Sciacca—more than a week before Emilia’s murder—not a single witch family had come forward with information about the Wicked’s arrival. Until new evidence or proof was uncovered about the demon princes, I’d stick with my theory of a human being responsible.
“Are we going to speak with the police, Nonna?”
“If they investigate too closely and discover what we are, do you think your fate will be any different than your sister’s?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to fight with my grandma. I also couldn’t quite figure out a way to tell the police witch hunters might be to blame without casting suspicion on us.
I was so frustrated, I could scream. My twin had been murdered. No one who knew my sister would ever wish her harm. Which meant it had to be a stranger, or someone who’d figured out what she was. According to Nonna, the other two victims were also witches. That wasn’t a mere coincidence—it was a connection. A woman with a little power was terrifying to some.
I curled my hands into fists, focusing on the pain of my nails sinking into my skin. Someone chose to hurt Vittoria. And I wanted to know who. Why.
What had Vittoria been doing in the hours leading up to the attack? She didn’t usually visit the monastery, but I’d seen her there twice in as many days.
It was possible she was meeting that strange dark-haired man there. For what purpose, I wasn’t sure. She could have been secretly involved with him. Or maybe the murderer dragged her there against her will. Maybe she didn’t know him at all and he’d intercepted her while she’d been on her way elsewhere.
I couldn’t recall exactly what time she’d left Sea & Vine. That day had started off like any other—we’d gotten up, dressed, shared a morning meal, and went to work with our family to prep for the busy festival day.
I hadn’t even asked where she was going. I didn’t know she wouldn’t ever return.
Tears threatened, but I held them in. If I could go back in time, I’d do so many things differently. I shoved the heels of my hands into my eyes, and commanded myself to keep it together.
“It’s not easy for any of us, Emilia,” Nonna said. “Let this go. Let the goddesses take their vengeance in their own way. The First Witch won’t allow things to continue like this—trust that she has a plan for the Malvagi, and work on your protection charms. Your family needs you.”