Except . . . there was one major issue with that theory. Streghe didn’t spill their secrets. I thought about witch hunters again. Wrath didn’t sound like he thought they were a threat, but I hadn’t found any evidence to completely rule them out. It still made the most sense that they were responsible. Perhaps they’d somehow uncovered who the true witches across the island were, and the devil’s bargain timing was a coincidence.
“Will you tell me who the next witch is?”
“No.”
I considered my options. I could send notes to the twelve other families in Palermo, but there was a chance they could be intercepted. Showing up at their homes or businesses was also risky in case we were being watched, so that wasn’t an option. In these strange times, I had to be very cautious about each of my moves. My good intentions might end up costing someone their life. Hopefully the others were taking precautions after the recent murders.
Wrath stepped to the edge of the bone circle, looking like trouble. “Well? Are you ready to become a member of House Wrath?”
“No. Until you decide to work with me as an equal, I decline your offer of protection.”
His smile was filled with venom. “You weren’t ever planning on accepting the blood trade, were you?” I ignored him and plucked my satchel up from the ground and headed for the cave entrance. Wrath called out, “Where are you going?”
“To the monastery.”
“These are dangerous times; you shouldn’t go alone. Set me free and I’ll come with you.”
As if I’d let that happen. “Next time.”
“Benediximus.” Good luck. “It’s your funeral.”
His dark chuckle followed me all the way back to the city.
Fifteen
Two streets away from the monastery, I felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched. I pretended not to notice for a solid block before casually making my way down an empty street. If I had to resort to magic, I didn’t need any witnesses reporting my so-called devilry to the church. When we were much younger, a fratello named Carmine used to search for anyone with evil in their soul. I’d heard the church had sent him to northern Italy, but I thought of him every now and again. Especially when outside the monastery, primed to use magic.
I gripped my cornicello and squinted into the alley beside me, searching for purply luccicare that indicated a human was near. At first, I didn’t see a thing. And then . . .
A low, smooth voice spoke from the shadows. “Well, this is quite a surprise.”
Hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a man emerged from the darkness. His hair was black silk, and his eyes were an animal-like green. No human had eyes that color, and the strange, glittering luccicare surrounding him indicated what I already suspected: Malvagi. I wasn’t sure why, but I let go of my amulet and subtly tucked it inside my bodice.
“You’re . . .” Another demon prince. One I hadn’t summoned to this realm. Which meant there were other ways for them to get here. Something I should have realized sooner since Wrath had been the one standing over my sister last month. Impossible was becoming quite the joke.
I stepped back, and silently prayed to the goddess of battle and victory. The new demon smiled as if he’d read my thoughts. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. It was as if that odd, pulsating energy of his held me captive no matter how much I wanted to scream.
Instead of panicking, I catalogued details. He was almost as tall as Wrath, and was arresting as opposed to classically handsome, but drew greater attention because of it. He had well-trimmed facial hair that accentuated the hard angles of his face. Staring at him, I almost felt a twinge of— “Envy.” The demon managed to make a singular word sound both threatening and inviting. “And you are . . . intriguing.”
I didn’t want to be intriguing. I didn’t want to be alone with him. I wanted to escape. I didn’t manage to accomplish any of those things. I stood there, frozen with bone-deep terror. The Wicked hadn’t been seen in this realm for almost one hundred years. Now at least two of them were here.
I couldn’t quite grasp why, but I felt this prince was different from Wrath. There was something about him that came across as lethally angelic. But if he ever had a halo, it was broken now. I wanted to drop to my knees in supplication and also scream for mercy.
Envy lurked at the edge of the alley. Just as Wrath had been the first evening I’d encountered him, his brother was dressed in fine clothes. His suit was solid black, but his shirt and vest were several shades of swirling green shot through with silver threads. He also had a dagger strapped to his side, but this one had a giant green gemstone lodged into its hilt.