Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(31)

I gripped my cornicello and squinted into the alley beside me, searching for purply luccicare that indicated a human was near. At first, I didn’t see a thing. And then . . .

A low, smooth voice spoke from the shadows. “Well, this is quite a surprise.”

Hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a man emerged from the darkness. His hair was black silk, and his eyes were an animal-like green. No human had eyes that color, and the strange, glittering luccicare surrounding him indicated what I already suspected: Malvagi. I wasn’t sure why, but I let go of my amulet and subtly tucked it inside my bodice.

“You’re . . .” Another demon prince. One I hadn’t summoned to this realm. Which meant there were other ways for them to get here. Something I should have realized sooner since Wrath had been the one standing over my sister last month. Impossible was becoming quite the joke.

I stepped back, and silently prayed to the goddess of battle and victory. The new demon smiled as if he’d read my thoughts. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. It was as if that odd, pulsating energy of his held me captive no matter how much I wanted to scream.

Instead of panicking, I catalogued details. He was almost as tall as Wrath, and was arresting as opposed to classically handsome, but drew greater attention because of it. He had well-trimmed facial hair that accentuated the hard angles of his face. Staring at him, I almost felt a twinge of— “Envy.” The demon managed to make a singular word sound both threatening and inviting. “And you are . . . intriguing.”

I didn’t want to be intriguing. I didn’t want to be alone with him. I wanted to escape. I didn’t manage to accomplish any of those things. I stood there, frozen with bone-deep terror. The Wicked hadn’t been seen in this realm for almost one hundred years. Now at least two of them were here.

I couldn’t quite grasp why, but I felt this prince was different from Wrath. There was something about him that came across as lethally angelic. But if he ever had a halo, it was broken now. I wanted to drop to my knees in supplication and also scream for mercy.

Envy lurked at the edge of the alley. Just as Wrath had been the first evening I’d encountered him, his brother was dressed in fine clothes. His suit was solid black, but his shirt and vest were several shades of swirling green shot through with silver threads. He also had a dagger strapped to his side, but this one had a giant green gemstone lodged into its hilt.

All my senses tingled with warning. And fear. This midnight creature wasn’t bound to protect me, and I was acutely aware of my vulnerability.

This skirt had no secret pocket, so I’d left my moon-blessed chalk at home. Which meant I had no way to draw a protection circle, no herbs to offer the earth, and I had a feeling running would only amuse him. I almost choked on terror. I was at the mercy of this devil.

My panic abruptly shifted into something else. A fierce, overwhelming dark feeling fluttered around me like expansive leathery wings. It was cold and ancient—with no beginning and no ending. Like all magic, it just was.

And I longed for all of it to be mine. Every last drop.

I was suddenly jealous of the immense power these demons wielded. Why did the Hell creatures deserve it all? Why was I less worthy of possessing some power of my own?

I was goddess blessed, not demon cursed!

If I had even a fraction of that magic, I could force others to tell me what happened to my twin. I could stop another witch from losing her life in a demonic bargain. And I could bring the underworld to its knees. I wanted what they had so badly that I burned with hatred. It was an ice-cold hate so potent that I was frozen down to my very core.

It was too much. Wanting that which would never be mine . . .

Envy leaned forward, a hungry gleam in his strange eyes. I had the oddest impression that he suffered from those same feelings. That he envied his brothers in a way that almost drove him mad. I could never imagine feeling that way about my twin. It must be so lonely, so isolating.

I held the dagger I’d taken from Wrath, pressed it into my chest, and almost groaned with pleasure as blood beaded up. It pierced my skin with such terrible ecstasy. I was ready to carve out my own heart just to stop the consuming pain of knowing I’d never possess that power— A little electric current pulsed from my tattoo, sending sparks of energy across my skin, and the spell shattered. I blinked as if coming out of a vivid dream. I glanced from the blade in my shaking hand, to the green-eyed demon whose attention shifted to my arm.

Envy must have been either feeding me his emotions, or turning mine against me.

“Exceptional,” the demon prince said. “Did you feel as I did?”

If he felt like an endless abyss of nothingness, hatred, and ice, then yes. “What did you do to me?”

“Allowed your inner desires to surface. Some call them sins.”

I shivered, feeling violated in a way I’d never known and hoped to never experience again. I’d almost shoved a blade through my heart. If my tattoo hadn’t stopped me, I’d be dead. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d been wrong about witch hunters; maybe Nonna had been right all along and humans weren’t to blame.

It definitely felt like this demon was responsible for the bodies with missing hearts.

Envy had affected me even with my cornicello. My little charm had been no match for a prince of Hell. I wasn’t even sure if he’d used all of his power, or a small part of it.