Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(53)

The map faded into the shadows. At least I now understood how the princes—who seemed to know much about everything—were in the dark about us. “I don’t understand why we kept ourselves mysterious. For what, centuries? Is there a reason we didn’t comingle with the princes?”

Vittoria’s expression shifted. It wasn’t quite hatred, but there was a coldness about her features that surfaced each time I brought up the princes of Hell. “Demons—especially princes of Hell—cannot be trusted. And are beneath us. We had enough to occupy us in the southern region and had no cause to get involved in their squabbles.”

“We were here shortly after the underworld was created,” I recalled suddenly.

“And the princes came centuries later, when they were cast from their own realm.”

I sensed there was much more to that particular part of our history but left it be for now. Above all else, I needed to understand our current predicament—the curse and how it came to be—if I had any hope of breaking it.

My twin was in a rather giving mood, freely offering information without any magical restraints. I might not have many other opportunities to gather this much information, so I took advantage. “If I was torn away from Wrath, how did you get cursed?”

“Like I said, I came for you.” My sister’s gaze turned darker than the shadows that slunk into the chamber. She flung a hex at our grandmother, knocking her unconscious. “I hunted you down, and the Star Witches were ready. They set a trap. You were lying on an altar, blood dripping from your chest.”

She allowed that punch to land squarely in my gut. It was the exact way I’d found her body in the monastery in Sicily. Now I knew her pose had been by design. It hadn’t been a message to me, it had been a warning to Nonna and the witches.

The goddess of death remembered.

“I rushed to you, not noticing the circle of salt and herbs,” she went on. “Uncaring about the spell candles or the arcane symbols glowing all over the walls. Once I crossed the circle, their magic locked me in. It overtook my power, essentially making me mortal for brief moments. Which was all the time they needed to perform their ritual. They chained me down and gave me my own spell-locked heart.”

We stared at each other for a few tense beats. Despite her betrayal, despite the months of anger and torment I felt, I needed my twin. In this moment. I needed our connection. But Vittoria wasn’t mortal. She didn’t fold me in her arms. There were no words of comfort or shared tears. There was only one promise shining in her eyes. Vengeance. A vow to set right a terrible wrong.

“That’s when they made us wear the Horn of Hades, further blocking our memories,” I guessed. “And I imagine also hiding us from any of our mother’s tracking spells.”

“Precisely. The spell-lock and amulets both prevented the Crone from locating us. Something the witches also feared.”

Which was why they took extra pains to hide us. Having the Crone, one of the three original goddesses, as an enemy would have posed an even greater threat to their world. I exhaled. Wrath and I hadn’t been sure if that was true about the amulets, but it had been a theory we’d batted around. We wore those amulets to not hide ourselves from the devil, but to hide from our true selves. “And when we’d taken them off, that night… our magic struggled to rise.”

“So you see.” Vittoria walked over to where our grandmother was slumped and unconscious in her chair. “These witches do not deserve your sympathy. They deserve to die. Which is why I went through and started taking their daughters. Let them feel what it was like to lose it all.” Vittoria spun on her heels and met my eyes. “No one binds Death or Fury and lives to tell the tale. They wanted to avoid a war? Well, that’s precisely what they’ll get. I won’t stop until each family responsible has paid. The princes of Hell are no better and ought to have paid a long time ago for their sins. You need to be by my side, taking your rightful revenge. It is the only way House Vengeance can rise again.”

“You’re going to start a war between supernaturals.”

“Start?” Vittoria asked, looking around. “War’s already begun. It started the moment they cursed us and held us captive for nearly twenty years in that realm. It began when that witch cursed the demon you call husband now and dragged us into their issues. All of them have forgotten who we are. What we are capable of. Some battles are not fought with weapons in fields, sister. Some are much more effective when subtle moves are made over time. I don’t ultimately care if other supernaturals fight; I care only for vengeance for us.” She looked down at the woman who’d been our grandmother, her expression going impossibly colder. “Wrath will never give you his heart. He cannot. The curse has not been lifted for him. He will always keep part of himself locked safely away. Once you figure that out, come back to me. We have much to accomplish together. Just as we always did.”

“I need you to tell me one thing. Did you kill Greed’s commander or help her escape? Pride said she’d been asking about his portal.”

“Pride has proved to still care only for himself. Just as he always has. And there is much you still don’t understand—and will not understand—until you remove your spell-lock.” Vittoria ignored my questions and nodded to Domenico. The werewolf stepped forward and made a glittering portal. It was clear my sister wasn’t going to talk about the magical skulls or any potential demon murder or escape. And I needed to get back to Wrath before he did something reckless. I looked at Nonna, and a sliver of worry crept in. “What are you going to do with her?”