Envy strode through the hallways, not seeing another soul. He paused to glance out the arched windows in the Mist Corridor, looking at the courtyard below.
Empty.
His courtyard was one of his favorite places. Usually it was alive with courtiers, some playing music and others setting up canvases along the gardens. He’d always delighted in their paintings and sketches of the water features, or the birds who nested in the magical winterbud trees he’d imported from the far north. He’d taken such pride in the unrivaled beauty of his home.
That was all before. Now only the statues and sculptures he passed watched his silent procession, their stone faces as lifeless as his court.
Alexei hadn’t exaggerated. Things were much worse.
Envy’s long stride ate up the expansive corridors, growing quicker the longer he went without seeing anyone. Near stairs leading to the upper level, where the nobility who preferred to remain at court stayed in luxurious suites, he paused.
There, in the distance, he heard it. Wailing.
Jaw locked, he aimed for the sound of grief, holding his worry and anger tightly in his fist, allowing no trepidation or dread to show on his face.
After an eternity he stopped before a chamber.
He raked a hand through his hair, despite his vow to look unaffected.
“Fuck.”
This would not be good. For the first time in his immortal existence, the Prince of Envy considered running from his court.
Please, he silently begged any Underworld god who’d listen, spare them.
He hoped he wasn’t too late.
The door he stood before belonged to Lord and Lady Casius, two of the higher-ranking nobles, the lady a member of his council, made up of demons he’d known for centuries. Who’d schemed with him, who’d searched for spells with him for decades now, hoping to delay the madness. Who’d found the one spell he could use to lie. Who’d believed Envy would see them all saved, in the end. They never blamed him for what he’d done, even though he deserved it.
If they succumbed…
There were few things in any of the realms that Envy could imagine being worse.
The Lord and Lady Casius had been blessed by the old gods, and before he’d departed for the game had brought three new demons into the world, even knowing the risks. The babes couldn’t be older than six months, even with the time he’d been away.
Envy knocked gently, then pushed the door open, his nails digging into his palms as he entered the room.
It had been destroyed.
“Who are you?” Lady Casius screamed, her gown tattered and torn. “Who is that?”
“Shh,” he soothed, “it’s me, Piper. Prince Envy.”
Tears streamed down her face, terror making her back away.
“I… I don’t know you.”
She wailed again, the sound echoing in the once finely appointed room. Glasses were broken, art ripped from the walls. As if a battle had been fought, blood was splattered across the wallpaper.
“I don’t know him! WHO IS HE?”
Envy followed her pointing hand to the slumped form at her feet, blood pooling out from the lifeless body. She’d attempted to cover him with her bedding. Had torn the sheets from the mattress in a violent frenzy. A moment of clarity must have hit at some point.
He slowly approached, hands up, then knelt, already knowing what he’d find.
Dreading it.
He pulled the sheet back and quickly averted his gaze. Lord Casius had been gone for some time. Envy wasn’t certain how he’d missed the scent of rot when he’d first opened the door. To kill a demon… it wasn’t an easy feat. They were long-lived, perhaps not immortal like Envy and his brothers, but not casually lost, either.
Envy saw some defensive wounds on his friend’s hands, knew if he’d still been in his right mind he wouldn’t have struck his wife, even if she was repeatedly striking him.
Gods-damn. When Envy won the game and restored balance—because he refused to consider the alternative—Piper would never recover. Even if she got her memories back, she’d never forgive herself.
In so many ways, Envy was already too late.
He was struggling to figure out a way to remove his old friend when Piper’s next words pinned him in place.
“Who are they?” she screamed, her tone shrill. “WHO ARE THEY? They kept staring and crying. WHO SENT THEM TO KILL ME?”
“Who are…” Envy had a sudden realization and couldn’t bring himself to look.
But as the prince of this circle, it was his duty.
He would own this sin, allow it to scar his soul. These deaths, these murders… they belonged to him. If he’d never given the chalice to her…
He would solve the riddles, claim his prize, and make this right. No matter the cost to him. No matter who he had to deceive, kill, or toy with in the process.
Envy would win. Or his circle would be no more.
His eyes stung as he forced himself to scan the room.
There, in the corner, where the cribs had been…
Bile seared up his throat; he squeezed his eyes shut, closing off the unspeakable sight. It made no difference. The image was burned there, forever.
Envy allowed himself one moment of grief; then his resolve hardened along with his heart. He needed to set this right before he returned to Camilla. And he had little time left.
“I did it.” Lady Casius fell to her knees, horrible clarity flashing in her eyes.
Envy knew it would soon pass like it always did; the memories would fog once again, and she’d be blissfully unaware of reality.
He needed to get Piper out of this chamber immediately, needed to see about—
A shriek filled the air.
Before he saw the blade, before he could cross the room, Lady Casius had thrust the dagger through her chest, her knees cracking against the marble floor a moment before her skull did.
Envy felt the blow as if in his own heart.
Cursing, he scrubbed his hands down his face, fighting down an unfamiliar panic, until his breathing was in control. Then he wrapped his heart in ice, the coldness erupting from him to coat the room in a layer of frost, and he set about collecting his fallen friends.
Once again, Envy had been too late to save them, and now he had five more deaths to add to his sins. Five more demons he’d sworn to protect.
He would not leave them here; he would take their bodies to where they had taken all the rest. At the very least, then, they would no longer be alone.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“WHAT MAKES YOU trust anything that hexed creature said?” Camilla asked.
Envy had been watching her closely. Too closely. She’d known from the moment she’d opened her chamber door that he was not in a pleasant mood. He’d scanned her, his gaze hard, his mouth a cruel slash as he took a step inside and all but bared his teeth.
“I told you to put on something warm. Get a cloak.”
“Do not speak to me like that,” she said firmly. “I’m not a child.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
She narrowed her eyes. Something was certainly amiss.
Camilla wasn’t sure what had shifted. If he’d had any warmth for her before, it was long gone. His coldness, the hard set of his mouth, the unforgiving glint in his gemlike eyes—here stood the villain of lore. The Prince of Hell wicked enough to inspire parents to tell their children terrifying cautionary tales.