Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(28)

“What did you see?”

Claudia glanced around. “It’s more a warning than a true vision, I think.”

And whatever it was, it clearly terrified her. My friend looked ready to jump out of her skin. I reached over and gripped her hand in mine. “What is it?”

“I don’t know . . . I saw black wings and an empty pitcher being filled and emptied. It was all very strange. I think some terrible darkness is coming,” she said. “Or it’s already here.”

Goose bumps rose across my body in waves. I swallowed my shame. I had no doubt Claudia had seen me summoning Wrath. Dragging a prince of Hell from the underworld was a huge feat—I couldn’t imagine the kind of magical tremors it must have set off. I’d disrupted the natural order of this world. I brought forth that which didn’t belong. It was the darkest sort of magic, and I wasn’t surprised a dark witch sensed it.

“Maybe it’s just the way your mind is explaining away Vittoria’s . . .”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed quickly. “Domenico is a mess, too. He visits the monastery at least twice a week to pray.”

I was happy we’d steered the conversation away from the Great Big Evil I’d invited into our world, though thinking of my sister laying in the monastery brought on its own awful feelings. I tried not to focus on Claudia’s tear-stained face. The last thing I wanted was to start crying and show up red-eyed and splotchy when I confronted Wrath. I wanted to project fearlessness and ferocity, not a sobbing, snotty mess.

It was the only thought that kept me from breaking down. Well, that and hearing my sister’s secret lover had been praying so often. With my grief and then the desire to unlock her diary, I’d forgotten all about him. “I didn’t know they were publicly . . .”

I wasn’t sure what to call it. Not a courtship, because Domenico hadn’t spoken to my father and Vittoria certainly hadn’t mentioned him. If I hadn’t seen his name scrawled in her diary, we wouldn’t know she liked him at all. That thought ached, so I shoved it deep down where it couldn’t hurt me, with the other unpleasant feelings I’d been storing lately.

“What else has Domenico said?”

“I’m not sure. He hasn’t talked to me about anything. He mostly locks himself in one of the empty chambers, and lights prayer candles until after midnight. I think he’s there now, actually. He always looks so sad.”

I wanted to speak with him and knew I should, but didn’t feel ready to just yet. I reasoned it might be cruel to show up, looking like the mirror image of his murdered lover. The truth was, I wasn’t ready to confront one of my sister’s secrets without my heart breaking the rest of the way.

Claudia looped her arm through mine and guided us off the main road. “Fratello Antonio is worried about you. Since you were the one who . . .” She swallowed hard. “Now that he’s back from his travels putting rumors of shape-shifters to rest, it might be good to speak with him. Just to help find solace.”

Solace was the furthest thing from vengeance and I wanted nothing to do with it. The brotherhood would advise me to say prayers and light candles like Domenico. Neither of which would help avenge my sister, or break the spell on her diary. Even if I confessed the darkest desires in my heart, there wasn’t anything Antonio could do to help me. He was just a human.

I mustered up a smile, knowing Claudia was coming from a place of love. And she had enough to worry about with her own unsettling visions. “I will talk to him. Soon. I promise.”

Claudia studied my face. “Make sure you visit me while you’re there, too. I miss you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but you’re only alone if you choose to be, Emilia. Please don’t forget that you’re still living and are loved. And, if you let me, I can help.”

I pictured confirming her fears about her dream, telling her all about what I did last night; about the demon I’d plucked from the underworld and stashed away in ours. And not just any demon, but if he was to be believed, a prince of war. A demon so vicious and mighty he was the living embodiment of wrath.

If Claudia knew what I was planning next, I wondered if she’d still be willing to help.

I took one look at the determination in her eyes and decided she might.

“I . . .” I inhaled deeply. I didn’t trust Wrath with this secret, and Carolina couldn’t help, but maybe Claudia could. I pulled my sister’s diary from my satchel. “There’s a spell on this I can’t break. Your aunt said the magic wasn’t from this realm. It’s possibly demonic in origin.”

Claudia’s eyes widened as she brushed her fingers over the cover. “It’s . . . ancient.”

“Do you think you could find out what sort of magic was used?”

She nodded vigorously. “I can certainly try.”

“It’s dangerous,” I warned. “You can’t tell anyone you have it, or show it to anyone.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

I let the diary go. As I turned to leave, a shadow loomed above my friend and hissed, “He’s here.”

“What?” I half-screamed and stumbled back. It was the same disembodied voice I’d heard the night my sister had been killed. I’d never forget the sound. “Who is?”

“Who is what?” Claudia glanced around and then reached over to steady me. “Are you all right, Emilia? You look as if you’ve seen the devil.”