Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(19)

I just needed the supplies and opportunity.

Nonna told us to hide from the Malvagi, to say our charms and bless our amulets with silvery shafts of moonlight and holy water, to never speak of the Wicked when the moon was full, and to do all the things a good witch did. Otherwise they’d steal our souls.

In the end, the monster we feared didn’t come from Hell. He came from privilege.

That man standing over my twin—with his fine clothes and expensive knife—deserved punishment like anyone else. He couldn’t just take what he wanted without facing the consequences. I was almost certain that the people I’d shown it to must have recognized his blade, but refused to speak out against him, fearing the repercussions. He might be powerful and wealthy, but justice would find him.

I’d make certain of it.

I still wasn’t sure if he acted alone, or if he was a member of the mysterious strega hunters, and it didn’t matter. He was the only one there that night. I would hunt him down first and find out more information later. If there were more people like him, I’d deal with it then.

I also had a plan to keep my family safe while tracking down Vittoria’s killer. Instead of one simple bargain, I’d make two. First, I’d have the demon I summoned break the enchantment on Vittoria’s diary, and then I’d have it locate the mysterious dark-haired man. Thankfully, having a possession like the snake knife would allow for this.

A demon I could control was the answer to a prayer.

It seemed I’d been wrong earlier; the goddess of death and fury hadn’t ignored my pleas. She’d simply been biding her time, waiting for me to turn my despair into something she could use. A twig was just a bit of broken wood until it had been sharpened into a spear. Grief carved me in half. And fury honed the pieces into a weapon.

Now it was time to unleash it.





Nine

Bone magic when used improperly can be part of the forbidden arts. Using the bones of animals—claws, nails, fangs, shells, and feathers—allows a witch to connect with the underworld. They must be gathered ethically, not sacrificed, as is popularly thought by humans. To harness their power, create a bone circle and include herbs and objects of intent.

—Notes from the di Carlo grimoire

I stood inside the lip of the cave, listening as the sea smashed into the rocks below, angry and insistent.

Salty spray raged up over the cliff, prickling the exposed skin on my arms and neck. Maybe the water was mirroring my mood. Or maybe it sensed the darkness of the rolled parchment tucked beneath my arm. I certainly could.

Witches were connected to the earth and channeled its powers into their own. I wouldn’t be surprised if the sea was wary of what was coming—the dark power I was about to unleash upon our realm. The sea might be worried, but I was not. I had to wait hours for Nonna to finally fall asleep in her rocking chair before I collected my supplies and snuck out. Any lingering sense of worry was eclipsed by cold determination to carry out my plan.

I had no idea how Vittoria came across these grimoire pages—it was another mystery to add to an expanding list—but I’d use them to my advantage. A strong gust of wind forced me deeper into the cavern. I’d not been entirely sure where I was going when I left the house, but felt drawn here. Vittoria used to find reasons for us to venture up to this cave as often as she could when we were children. It was almost as if she were here, guiding me now.

The night air was balmy, but chills trailed sharp claws along my flesh.

I held up my lantern, trying not to cringe away from the shadows dancing around the light. Summoning a demon—in a dank cave where my screams couldn’t be heard if something went wrong—wasn’t exactly how I would’ve envisioned my life three weeks ago.

Back then I would’ve happily spent my nights creating new recipes for Sea & Vine. I would have read a steamy romance, and wished a certain fratello would forsake his oath to God for one night and worship me instead. That was before I found my sister’s desecrated body.

My current wishes centered on two things: finding out who murdered my twin, and why.

Well, three wishes if you counted my dream of gutting the bastard who killed Vittoria. That was more than a wish, though. That was a promise.

Satisfied there wasn’t anything lurking in the cave with me—like rats or snakes and other unpleasant surprises—I set my lantern on a flat rock and my basket of supplies on the packed dirt. I’d studied the summoning spell until my eyes crossed, but shivered a little anyway as I pulled out the items I needed.

Black candles, fresh fern leaves, animal bones, a tiny jar of animal blood, and a bit of gold. I didn’t have much of the latter lying around, so I brought the gold serpent dagger with me. It seemed only fitting that the mysterious stranger’s blade would be used to hunt him down.

If everything went smoothly, a lesser demon would be contained within the circle. I knew it wouldn’t be able to leave the designated area, but I was still less than excited to be in a darkened place alone with a monster from Hell. Even one easily controlled and magically bound.

I glanced over the sheet of carefully written notes again, stalling. For the summoning to be successful, I needed to follow the rules of the ritual precisely. Any deviations could unleash the demon in this realm. First, I needed to set up the circle, alternating the candles, ferns, and bones. Next, I’d set the tiny jar of blood inside the circle’s boundary. Then I had to formally invite a demon to join me, using Latin, their native tongue.