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Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(97)

Author:Kerri Maniscalco

He gritted his teeth as the truth was wrenched from him. “Yes.”

“Are they at my family’s restaurant now?”

“Yes.”

I dropped my sister’s amulet as if burned. I recalled the way Envy had forced me to take Wrath’s dagger to my heart, ready to gouge it out. Then I imagined him doing the same thing to my family and friends. In fact, he might have already started his games. Our kitchen had cleavers and knives and all sorts of tools that could be used as weapons, or torture devices hanging on the wall. I imagined that was why he’d chosen it as our meeting place.

Without wasting another moment, I ran.

I tripped over my skirts, and the taunting sound of the vampire’s laughter followed me down darkened roads. I ignored him. He no longer mattered. Getting to Sea & Vine was my only focus. I charged down narrow alleys and uneven streets, jumped over buckets of waste and shoved through lovers holding hands and strolling under the light of the moon.

I covered the mile in what felt like moments, and burst through the front doors, panting. I quickly scanned the room, searching for blood and gore and signs of a struggle.

My focus landed on the demon prince.

“I do love punctuality.” Envy shut a pocket watch with an audible snap. “You’re right on schedule, pet. The show is about to begin.”

Thirty-Nine

“It’s truly a shame about your grandma.” The Prince of Envy sat at a corner table, his back to the wall, surveying the bounty of food set before him. The room was empty except for the two of us. I couldn’t decide if that was comforting, or more terrifying. “All that power, gone.”

Maybe I was too late, and my parents and Nonna and Claudia and Antonio were all lying dead in the kitchen. As quickly as the thought appeared, I banished it. He’d said the show was about to begin. I clutched onto the hope I could do something to stop whatever sinister thing he’d planned.

“Where are my family and friends?”

He acted as if I hadn’t spoken at all. Envy picked up his wineglass and swirled the liquid, breathing in the scent before taking a careful sip. His suit tonight was a deep forest green. Ferns lined the lapels and cuffs. The hilt of his emerald-studded dagger glinted from a strap he wore over his jacket. “I hear your grandmother might not be able to speak again. Tough fate for a witch. I imagine it’s hard to cast spells without a voice. Herbs and gemstones are fine, but those powerful incantations are nothing without words to set them ablaze. Isn’t that right?”

So he’d been behind the attack on Nonna, not Greed. I thought about the human messenger and the mysterious hooded figure he’d sold secrets to. Envy was the traitor we’d been looking for. I’d wager all of my magic on it. Wrath had been so convinced Envy would never rise up against them, that he didn’t even look into the threat. Which opened up an opportunity for the jealous demon. One Envy couldn’t resist taking.

I wanted to scream and scream and scream. I considered it a gift from the goddess that I was able to maintain some semblance of dignity. I lifted my chin. “I said, where are my parents?”

“Locked in the kitchen.”

“My grandmother?”

“I left her at your home. She’s no use to me in her current state.”

“And my friends?”

“Safe, for now.”

“What do you want?”

“Sit.” He motioned to the seat across from him. “Dine with me.” When I didn’t jump to obey his command, he leaned forward, his voice edged with menace. “I vow to personally torture your family, your friends, and anyone who ventures into this fine establishment if you reject my civilized offer, pet. Then I’ll have Alexei hunt down those you love and drain them dry. Now be a good girl and take a seat.”

“Or don’t.” Alexei appeared behind me, grinning as I flinched away from him. I hadn’t heard his approach. “I’d like to feast before sunrise.”

I glanced between the demon prince and vampire. I wasn’t sure which of them was the bigger threat. The prince poured a second glass of wine. He’d slicked his chin-length hair back tonight, placing attention on the unusual jewel tone of his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw. “Don’t tell me you’re choosing a bloodbath over a glass of wine and pleasant conversation.”

I glared at him. I might be helpless, but I didn’t have to appear so. “I’ll sit as long as you promise to spare my friends and family, and leave here once we’re finished. And by ‘here’ I mean this city.”

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