Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked #1)(42)

“Doubtful.” Wrath wasn’t amused with my assessment of demon royalty. “Viperidae are unique creatures. If they choose to guard something, or bring it into their nest, no denizen of the underworld may interfere. They must choose to give it up on their own.”

I made a mental notation to bring him dessert anytime I wanted information. He was downright pleasant and chatty. “What does it look like?”

“Its namesake. Like a viper, it’s got long, hinged fangs. It also happens to be larger than I am and is twice as deadly. Very few antidotes exist if someone is bitten. And the ones that do exist aren’t to be taken lightly. There’s a cost for using them, like all magic. Make your own choice, but know you may not survive to see another sunrise if you disturb one.”

I rubbed at my arm, not because his warning frightened me, but because there was an annoying sensation burrowing beneath my skin. Like someone was scratching back and forth over the same section with a pin. Wrath tracked the movement and then glanced at his own arm.

It seemed our tattoos were transforming once again. Winding around the serpents—which I noted Wrath now sported around his twin crescent moons, too—were wildflowers.

Before my eyes, my snakes were given shimmering, even scales. I didn’t want to think it was beautiful, but it was. Undeniably so. Wrath curled his hand into a fist. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain, or because of our strange, ever-changing ink. I decided not to press the issue; I had one more question for the demon before I left on my mission.

“If someone was to attack a Viperidae, what sort of spell might they use?”

He dragged his attention from the magical ink on his arm, his look a study of resignation. “No one should be attacking a Viperidae. But, if someone was a foolish witch with a death wish, then that witch might try casting a sleeping spell. It might be the only way to sneak around it.”

“I . . .” I stopped myself from thanking him. If it wasn’t for him and his cruel brothers, my entire family wouldn’t be in this mess. I inhaled deeply, thinking about the sleep spell. It was simple. I liked simple plans. It meant there was less that could potentially go wrong.

“One final word of caution.” Wrath pushed himself up from the ground and moved to where I stood near the edge of the bone circle. I ignored the expanse of toned, golden skin in my face. “Freedom will be mine soon. If you are foolish enough to attack such a creature, I will not come for you.”

I stared up at him. “Good.”



Last month if someone told me I’d choose to wander through forgotten tunnels beneath the cathedral alone, tracking down an ancient snake demon guarding one half of a sacred key that not only locked the gates of Hell but were actually the horns of the devil, I’d think they needed medical attention.

Emilia Maria di Carlo didn’t do danger. My sister was the adventurous one—I was satisfied with safe, clean fun. Give me a steamy romance novel with forbidden love and impossible odds.

That was the kind of adventure I could get behind.

A little more than a month ago I would’ve laughed with my sister over the possibility that something like a giant, netherworldly snake even existed, thinking Nonna’s superstitions were hard at work again. Even with magic running through my veins, I never fully believed in the stories she told us; they were too fantastical. Immortal, blood-drinking creatures like the Wicked couldn’t be real.

Now I knew better. Every tall tale was rooted in truth.

I followed a strange, foul egg odor and bits of snakeskin that had been shed, wishing I’d gotten over my aversion to Wrath’s dagger and had taken it with me. Light from grates above dappled the ground every once in a while, but I traveled mostly in darkness.

I paid attention to the slightest shift in the atmosphere, allowing my senses to guide me. I had a suspicion the demon wouldn’t want to draw attention to itself or its precious treasure.

Plus, I already had a good idea where its nest was—Greed said it was under the cathedral, and I was quickly approaching the turnoff for it. I paused at the corner and collected myself.

I’d been mentally running through my plan, and now that I was almost facing my enemy, it seemed like it was much too simple to actually work. Maybe Wrath had decided to send me to my death armed with an impossible scheme. Diabolical demon.

I drew in a deep breath. I could do this. But I needed to move quickly. The longer I stood around, debating, the more my fear grew. I imagined what my sister would do if she were here instead. She’d charge in to save the day—like she tried doing when she’d agreed to the devil’s bargain. Granted, that didn’t turn out to be the wisest decision, but at least she was brave enough to try. Compared to what she’d done, casting a simple sleep spell and retrieving a necklace was easy.

I exhaled slowly and peered around the corner. Amber-colored light spilled into the chamber from above, illuminating the snake-shaped demon. Wrath hadn’t exaggerated—the Viperidae was bigger than he was. Oil-slick midnight scales covered a body coiled in the center of the tunnel. Even curled up, the demon took up most of the space; its prone form was taller than me by a good head or more. When it was alert and upright . . . I didn’t want to think about facing something like that.

I pulled a handful of dried chamomile leaves from my skirt pocket, offered them to the goddess of night and slumber, and whispered, “Somnum.”