Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked #1)(62)

I felt Wrath’s rage turn from a simmer into a full boil. Soon, whether he meant to or not, he’d kill Francesco. And we’d lose our biggest chance at discovering who murdered my twin. I heard both Nonna’s and Wrath’s warnings singing through my head, but it didn’t matter.

We were out of options and the anger raging around us was growing intense enough to burn. Wrath was about to snap. I pulled his emotions to me, using them as fuel for my truth spell as I clutched my sister’s amulet.

“Did you open the letter?” I asked, my voice laced with magical command. Wrath’s attention snapped to me and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think fear entered his features.

Francesco nodded before answering. “Y-yes.”

“Did anyone pay you to do it?”

“Yes.”

“Who paid you, Francesco? Greed?”

“No.”

“Tell me who paid you then.”

“I do not know his name.”

“Is he human?”

He lifted a shoulder. “He wore a hood. I didn’t see his face.”

“Did you tell him where Giulia would be the night she was murdered?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Did you meet with him today?”

“Yes.”

My anger flared up. “What information did you give him?”

“A-a-another address. And a time to meet. I didn’t have a name this time, I swear!”

“What time and address did you give him, Francesco?”

“Th-th-th-the Piazza Vigliena. M-m-midnight.”

I looked at Wrath for further instruction, but he shook his head. The truth spell was nearly up. Blood spilled from the human’s nose, and his eyes had turned glassy. If I pushed any more, he’d die. I glanced down, noticing my whole body trembled. Wrath stepped close to him.

“If you ever share my secrets again, I’ll cut out your tongue. Then I’ll carve out your heart. Have I made myself clear?” He gave Wrath the barest hint of a nod, careful to not slice his own throat. Sweat dampened his hairline. He really didn’t look well. “Next time you’re tasked with carrying a message for me, don’t let curiosity or greed get the better of you. Those conditions often prove deadly.”

I couldn’t help but notice the trickle of urine streaming down the man’s leg as the demon let his weapon drop. He stared from Wrath to me, a deep crease forming in his brow. He blinked slowly as if awakening from a dream. Or a nightmare.

“Who . . . who are you? Why am I here? P-please . . . don’t hurt me. If you’re looking for money, I don’t have any.” He turned out his pockets. There was nothing but lint. “See?”

My nausea from earlier was back and almost had me doubling over. I’d invaded his mind, and must have destroyed his recent memories. Dark magic demanded a price. And it didn’t always come in the form someone expected. Guilt swirled through me. Just because I had power, didn’t mean I should abuse it. “You’re—”

Wrath flashed me a warning look. “You’re Francesco Parelli Senior, and you’re on your way home. You had too much to drink. You better hurry before Angelica gets mad again. Do you remember the way?”

Francesco swiped at a tear and shook his head. He seemed so fragile now, so lost. And I’d done that to him. Not some demon, or horrible creature from Hell. Me. I’d broken the most important rule of this world. I’d taken his free will, and I’d bent it to mine.

Wrath turned Francesco toward the cathedral, handed him a coin purse, and whispered in his ear.

I stared at the demon’s back, heart racing. Wrath could’ve easily left the man alone in his new hell, but didn’t. Just like he could have easily demanded I trade my soul in exchange for justice for my twin. He knew what I wanted and what I’d be willing to give up for it, and had asked for nothing. I didn’t think there was mercy in Hell. But maybe I was wrong.

Wrath gritted his teeth. “What?”

“You could have killed him.”

“Don’t. I beat him and you stole his freedom of choice. His memories will eventually return, but that piece of your soul will not. I would have gotten our information without magic. There’s an old saying about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread. From now on, I suggest you heed the warning. Come on.” He walked deeper into the shadows. “We need to get to Quattro Canti.”

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.