Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(101)

A scroll materialized along with a raven’s quill, the point more blade than pen. When no pot of ink appeared, I immediately realized why. My heart thudded wildly. If I didn’t run now, there would be no undoing this. Some bonds could never be broken.

I carefully read over the parchment.





It was simple enough. Not much in the way of trickery. Which worried me more. Selling a soul shouldn’t be so easy. I had a more difficult time haggling with vendors in the marketplace over clothing. Part of me wanted to laugh. But there was little humor to be found in this cavern.

Before I could run screaming, I pricked my finger and signed my soul away in blood, the magic binding me to the devil for eternity. Once I finished, the scroll disappeared in a wisp of smoke. I stared until the scent of sulfur dissipated, fighting a growing wave of panic.

“Anything else?” I asked as a strange tingling sensation fell around me like a cloak. Wrath nodded to my two amulets. Of course. The devil wanted his horns back. I yanked them from my neck and dropped them on the cavern floor, their absence already a strange sort of torture.

They vanished.

I took a deep breath. I no longer needed to worry about hiding from the Malvagi—the Wicked had found me. But that was all right; I’d found them, too. And I hoped they’d rue the day they came for me and mine. Soon I’d be deep within their realm, and would be perfectly positioned to uncover the true players behind the murders, and what they were really after.

Then I would set about destroying them. If they didn’t kill me first.

I brushed past Wrath, walked to the lip of the cave, and glanced down. It might be the last time I saw this world, and I wanted to memorize it. An angry swell crashed against the rocks, spraying upward in harsh whispers. I stared out at the ink-colored waves, trying to calm my racing pulse. They looked like silver blades flashing in the moonlight. Nonna would claim it was a sign of treacherous things to come. This time, I couldn’t disagree.

The ground suddenly trembled, pebbles scattered, bats flew out of the cave. I braced myself against the unexpected surge of magic, fearing the cavern would collapse.

I spun around, focus darting to Antonio, or where he’d once been. Vittoria’s murderer was gone. In his place, Wrath’s power whipped around like the tail of a mighty serpent. He smiled, a quick flash of teeth. We were no longer bound together, and his power was overwhelming, infinite. I refused to let my fear show.

The demon’s grin vanished and he silently held out a hand. “Will you come with me?”

I knew he was only asking politely because of the demonic etiquette. I didn’t want to agree, I didn’t want to ever touch him again, but I knew I couldn’t find my way into the underworld without his dark magic.

“Yes.”

I wrapped my fingers around his before my emotions betrayed me. There was crackling power in our connection. Tiny currents sparked over our skin. Before I could think about it, smoke enveloped us. Searing pain followed. It felt like my entire body was burning. I choked on a scream. Wrath’s fingers tightened on mine. There was no earth, no connection to the natural world, nothing tangible except my grip on the prince I now hated more than the rest combined.

The pain lasted only a moment before a new sensation stoked even greater fear. We stood on solid ground again. Which meant . . .

Goddess above, I could hardly breathe. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut forever.

Instead, I stared straight ahead, pulled my shoulders back, and waited for the smoke to clear.

I hoped the kingdom of the wicked was ready for a vengeful queen.





Sign up to Kerri Maniscalco’s newsletter here





Acknowledgments

It takes an entire coven of talented individuals to bring a book into the world, and, like Emilia, I have been goddess-blessed to have the following people casting powerful spells for this series:

Stephanie Garber—I’m so incredibly lucky to have a friend like you. This book would not be the same without your constant support, brainstorming sessions, and willingness to hop on the phone and chat about even the smallest details. Our weekly calls about our books (and our favorite TV shows) made drafting so much fun, and I am so happy we get to do it again!

Barbara Poelle, agent goddess extraordinaire, you never cease to amaze me with the many, many hats you wear: agent, friend, fierce business partner, bitmoji queen, and brainstorming champion. Thank you for planting the idea of Princes of Hell in my head way back when I first started kicking this idea around—I can’t imagine this story without those sinfully devious demons now!

Maggie Kane and the entire team at the Irene Goodman Literary Agency, Heather Baror-Shapiro (Baror International), and Sean Berard (Grandview) work tirelessly behind the scenes to bring my work to amazing countries and to Hollywood. And I couldn’t be more grateful to each of you.

To my brilliant editor, Laura Schreiber, you inherited this book (and me!) and immediately jumped in with unwavering enthusiasm to help find the story that had been in my head. I’m so happy with all of our hard work and cannot wait for what’s to come in the next installment!

Liam Donnelly, the cover art and details inside the book make my dark heart sing. A million thank yous for the snakes and flowers and skulls—the whole aesthetic is chef’s kiss fabulous.

Dan Denning, Joshua Johns, Jordan Mondell, Caitlyn Averett, T.S. Ferguson, Erinn McGrath, Charlotte Lamontagne, Maggie Cannon, Ned Rust, Tracy Shaw, Flo Yue, Blue Guess, Alexis Lassiter, the Hachette Sales team, Barbara Blasucci and the Special Sales team, Linda Arends, Virginia Lawther and the production team, and everyone at JIMMY Patterson Books and Little, Brown—your hard work, dedication, creativity, and talent is seriously endless. You have all worked some Wrath-level powerful magic to launch this book during a global pandemic; thank you for everything you do behind the scenes.