If he didn’t want to discuss the forbidden magic I used to get our information, that was fine with me. I already felt like my skin was crawling with grave worms. “Why?”
“The real messenger is waiting for us there.”
Twenty-Nine
Before we waltzed into the middle of the baroque square, Wrath situated us in another crammed alley. He claimed it was to get a better idea of the layout, and any traps other demons—like Greed or Envy—might have set. He politely asked me to wait while he strode over to a young man with a scar carving a path through his right cheek. Since he asked nicely, I decided to agree . . . temporarily. Letting him go ahead afforded me an opportunity to observe him, and the new messenger, on my own.
The human was intriguing. His stunning combination of dark features and upswept eyes hinted at North African and Asian ancestry. He hadn’t noticed me peering from the shadows nearby, but I saw him clearly enough.
He leaned against a building, digging imaginary dirt from shorn nails with a deadly looking blade. He projected a sense of boredom, but his gaze tracked the movements of everything around him with a predator’s focus. Even the demon prince.
Wrath marched over without hesitation, and I was unfortunately a little too far away to make out their conversation. Judging from the amount of eye-rolling the human was doing, I imagined Wrath was lecturing about something. I quietly drifted closer.
“。 . . suspects the truth, Anir. I’m sure the others will in time, too.”
“Too late for regrets now,” the human, Anir, said. His voice was familiar, I just couldn’t place it. “With everything going on . . . it might be a good thing. I mean, you chose to do the ritual. Right? Is it really that bad?”
“She’s a demon-blooded damned witch. What do you think?”
Were they talking about me? I curled my hands into fists, my nails creating little crescent moons in my palms. He was a high-handed, arrogant, no-good demon from Hell. But I wasn’t harping on his less-than-appealing qualities, was I? No. I was mature enough to set them aside to work together to stop a murderer from slaughtering any more witches.
“Sounds like a lovely girl. Will you be properly introducing us? You’ve only got—”
Wrath yanked Anir up by his collar, his feet swinging a good inch or two off the ground. I sucked in a quiet breath. It didn’t look like lifting a grown man caused any strain for the demon prince at all. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll give the other side of your face a scar, too.”
“Apologies. Did I strike a nerve?” Anir held up his hands in mock surrender, not bothering to hide his grin. It held no fear and little humor. I decided if I wasn’t so aggravated, I might like him. He was either very brave or very foolish to taunt the demon of war. “Don’t get pissy. Right now it’s only temporary. And she’s—”
“Behind us.” Wrath dropped the human and he gracefully caught himself from stumbling. “Emilia, this is Anir, my most trusted associate. He knows who agreed to marry Pride next.”
I slipped out from the shadows and inspected the young man. “You were there the night I was attacked by the Viperidae.”
“Yes.” Anir seemed unsure of what else he could or couldn’t share.
I turned to Wrath. “He’s human.”
“You’re very astute.”
I took a deep breath and counted until the urge to send him back to the bone circle passed. “What I meant is, if you have a human as your associate, why can’t he be your anchor? If something were to happen to me, you’d be all right.”
Wrath opened his mouth, then shut it. I raised a brow, waiting.
“Anir no longer claims the human world as his, therefore, he cannot provide the same . . . benefits you can.”
Anir snorted, and quickly tried to choke the rest of his laughter down when Wrath turned his blazing glare on him. “That’s certainly one way of looking at it.”
“What’s he talking about?” I asked, staring hard at the demon. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Wrath gave me a look that said “a good many things,” but didn’t bother answering aloud. Instead he said, “Anir was just leaving. He was waiting to see if the robed figure arrived, but they never showed up. Now he’s got House business to tend to back home.”
“Who’s the poor girl?”
“Valentina Rossi.”
My whole body went numb as I let that information sink in. Valentina was Claudia’s cousin. If anyone would want to readily agree to become the Queen of Hell, Valentina would take up that shadowy mantle with pride. She wasn’t bad; she just seemed regal and meant for a role larger than a weaver on our little island. I wasn’t surprised she’d be intrigued by a deal with the devil.