Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked #1)(64)
I shivered. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting him to say, but I appreciated his honesty. “I know Valentina’s family very well. I’m going to tell her to decline Pride’s bargain,” I admitted. “I hope you understand.”
Wrath’s gaze clashed with mine. “Do what you must. The final decision will be up to her.”
While we hurried to Valentina’s home, Anir told me about his life prior to leaving this world for what he called the Kingdom of the Wicked. He was the only child of a Tunisian father and Chinese mother—and had been playing in a nearby olive tree during the brutal slaying of his parents. His father had witnessed a crime and was going to tell authorities what he saw. Before he could do that, they were killed.
Anir said the scar came later, once he’d grown into the sort of young man others feared. Wrath found him traveling through South America, fighting in underground rings, bruised and bloodied. Some battles were a fight to the death and paid handsomely. Anir was a reigning champion for more than a year when he’d been offered employment in House Wrath.
I stopped listening to them bicker over how many years passed—apparently time moved differently in the demon realms—as we turned down the next street and slipped into a darker, narrower alleyway. A strange tug I’d felt before took control of my senses, drawing me down a second side street.
I glanced around, recognizing the neighborhood, and a terrible feeling settled in. I took a few more steps and stopped, unsurprised by the body. I’d grown suspicious before we’d rounded the corner, and the slumped silhouette was all the confirmation I’d needed.
I scanned the area.
Laundry hung from one crammed building to the other over our heads, and snapped in the breeze like teeth. It might’ve stricken fear into my heart before, but now it seemed like the perfect cover for a crime. There was no evidence. Nothing to waste time sorting through. It was a targeted job—the killer had gotten in and out, leaving nothing but the body behind.
Wrath abruptly stopped walking.
Anir noticed the victim a moment before tripping over her. He shot the demon an irritated look, and sidestepped a growing lake of blood. “Next time, a little warning would be nice.”
“A little less insubordination might make me more amenable to common courtesy in the future.”
Anir narrowed his dark eyes. The movement made the scar on his cheek stand out more. Wrath went to step around the body when his associate yanked him to a halt. I watched it all happen as if the scene was playing out on a stage, far from where I actually stood. I couldn’t believe another body lay brutalized at our feet. Bile slowly rose. Wrath seemed entirely unaffected, as if coming across maimed bodies was part of his daily life.
The demon turned on his heel, gaze locked onto the human’s hand. “What?”
Anir jabbed a finger toward the cooling body. “Aren’t we going to send for help?”
“What do you propose we do? Call for human authorities?” Wrath didn’t give Anir a chance to answer. “If you were them, would you take our word as good Samaritans and let us be on our way? Or would you look at your demon-forged blade, and my devilish demeanor, and toss us in some shit-filled cell and throw away the key?” Anir pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. “Do you have any more noble suggestions, or can we leave?”
“Sometimes you really are a heartless bastard.”
Wrath glanced down at me, his brows drawn together. “Are you all right?”
No, I was most certainly not all right. The body of another murder victim was lying at our feet. And I’d just gotten a look at her face. She was my best friend’s cousin. I stared in horrified silence at her broken body. I still couldn’t understand how this scene was real. My head spun with shock. Claudia wasn’t close with her cousin, but would still feel her loss greatly. I shoved the heels of my hands into my eyes.
“Emilia?”
I shrugged away from Wrath’s touch. “That is . . . was Valentina Rossi.”
“I assumed as much.”
I couldn’t believe another witch had her heart ripped out. This brought the death toll up to five. I fought the bile searing its way up my throat again. Seeing something so horrific . . . I’d never get used to it.
Francesco, the treacherous human messenger, didn’t know the name of the next bride, only the meeting location for Anir. And I doubted Anir would betray Wrath, which meant the information had gotten out some other way. I was nauseated for a new reason—I’d tortured a man for nothing.
“There must be a spy in the kingdom,” Anir said, putting my thoughts into words.
I imagined he’d seen his share of horrible things, but he still looked shocked. He pulled his dark hair back, and tied it with a string of leather he ripped from his wrist.
Wrath paced around the alley, careful to avoid stepping in the blood. I averted my gaze from the gore. We needed to send word to the authorities. Valentina couldn’t just lay there, cold and alone. The demon stopped close to where I stood, shielding my view of the body. “Which means one of my brothers is responsible. Somehow, some way.”
My earlier encounter with his brothers sprang to mind. “Greed and Envy are both here.”
Wrath shook his head. “Envy wouldn’t chance a fight with me. Greed . . . I still can’t see him jeopardizing his House. Not after he’s built a formidable stronghold.”