Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(69)

I could barely breathe. But that had nothing to do with terror anymore, now I was ready to strike out. And I had my sights set on the demon prince looming above me. I maneuvered into a sitting position, and swatted his proffered hand away.

“What, are you my teacher now?”

“An opportunity to turn this into a teachable exercise arose on its own. Lessons were never part of our bargain, so you’re welcome.”

I stared up at him, speechless at the flash of concern he was too slow to hide. He’d genuinely been worried about me. I was so startled, I forgot to jab him back.

I waited another minute before standing. Wrath’s gaze traveled over me a second time.

I glanced down at gelatinous gray globs that I assumed used to be innards of the demon. Now I smelled like a fetid swamp. Fantastico. I never thought I’d long for the days when stinking of garlic and onion were my biggest worries.

“Do you recognize that symbol?” He nodded toward the door with the pawprint.

“I . . .” I tried wiping demon sludge from my dress. “I need a minute.”

“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have let the demon kill you. Maybe a slight nip.”

“Comforting as ever.”

I stepped up to his side and stared at the door. I’d been terrified over the Aper demon attack, angry with Wrath about the impromptu lesson, and now fear took residence in my thoughts once more. I had no idea which of his brothers would use a pawprint, and wasn’t eager to find out.

“Is this pawprint Envy’s House symbol?” I asked. Wrath shook his head. “Do any of your brothers require a stalk of wheat for their summonings?”

“I believe that’s actually a fennel stalk.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to know how he’d gleaned that from the crude symbol on the door. But it did force puzzle pieces together in my mind. I’d recently seen that symbol before, but couldn’t recall when or where. Possibly somewhere in the city while we’d been wandering the streets. Or maybe in Vittoria’s diary? She’d had plenty of sketches and strange symbols in the margins. I had barely slept and the last few days had taken their toll on my memory. Once we left here, I’d go straight home and grab the diary.

Wrath shot me a sidelong glance. “Want to see what’s inside?”

I most definitely did not. I couldn’t escape a slow, creeping feeling of dread. Maybe it was simply a coincidence that we ended up here, or maybe it was part of a larger, more sinister design. Either way, I felt like we were about to enter a lion’s den, and I was as excited as a fawn knowingly being led to slaughter. I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Wrath shook his head once before shouldering the door open for us.

“Liar.”





Thirty-Two

We walked into a large room that was filled with crates and fishing traps. Ropes hung from rusted nails on the wall. Wooden floors creaked with each of our steps. I wasn’t normally prone to feeling uneasy about buildings, but there was something unsettling about the space. A slight, strange humming set my nerves further on edge. Dust motes swirled in the moonlight.

I hoped we’d caused the disturbance and some demons weren’t lying in wait. I really didn’t want to face any more creatures like the dead demon outside. Wrath was annoyingly unaffected. He strode through the room with the ease of knowing he was the most lethal predator. He inspected the fishing gear, and kicked at a rusty anchor that had been discarded near a back exit.

“It looks like this location hasn’t been used in some time,” he said.

“Do you believe it was just a coincidence that the Aper demon led me here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Anything look familiar?”

“I . . .”

I scanned the space. Fishing nets, ropes, various hooks in strange shapes nailed to the far wall, and wire traps. Everything looked average. Except for that sensation I couldn’t name. It felt familiar in a way. I slowly walked around the perimeter, pausing at each piece of fishing gear. There had to be some reason we ended up here. And I was so close to figuring it out . . .

I picked up a rusted hook and let it fall back against the wall. It was perfectly ordinary.

I blew out a breath. I didn’t want to waste time, touching each old hook. Especially when I might possibly have a much better clue waiting for me at home in Vittoria’s diary. Still . . . I couldn’t quiet the insistent tug in my center. I did another sweep of the room, but nothing stood out. It seemed that the Aper demon attack and this empty building were unrelated.

“Well?” Wrath asked. “Do you recognize anything?”

Nothing aside from the symbol I was almost certain my sister had sketched in her diary. I shook my head, wanting to hurry to my house to retrieve it. “No.”

“Very well. Let’s go home.”

I didn’t point out that his stolen, ruined palace was not my home and never would be.

“I have to go collect my things,” I said. “I’ll meet you there soon. You should dispose of the demon outside.”

Before he could argue, I slipped out the door and headed to my house.



I slumped against the doorframe in my bedroom and surveyed the carnage. Floorboards were ripped up and broken. Wooden splinters littered the little knotted rug Nonna made for me and Vittoria when we were little. Feathers floated on the breeze blowing in from the shattered window. Someone had taken out a lot of aggression on my mattress.