“Put this on. No one should be subjected to that all night, demon.”
Wrath snatched the shirt a second before it hit his face and actually cringed. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Wrinkled tawny suede, elbows worn thin, and crisscrossing drawstrings at the chest. He stared like I’d dragged in a decaying carcass and told him to skin it and sew it into a jacket.
He set his jaw. “No.”
“No?” I tilted my head like I hadn’t heard him correctly.
“It looks like you balled it up and left it in the bottom of a drawer for months, and it smells like you wiped out pig innards with it.” He tossed it back at me. “Fetch me something more suitable, or deal with me as is.”
“Excuse me?” I marched up to the line of bones and crossed them without hesitation. I stood toe-to-toe with him, fuming. A wild gleam in my eyes dared him to tell me no again. “Put. The. Shirt. On. Now.”
“Does the sight of my bare skin get under yours? Did you have sinful thoughts about me last night?” He gave me a lazy grin. “That’s usually my brother’s specialty, but fear not, we’ve all got bedroom talents.”
“Pig.”
“Care to roll around the dirt with me?”
Anger poured off me. “You wish.”
“I don’t.” I swore the temperature dropped to match the iciness of his tone. “You call us wicked, but you witches are vengeful creatures without soul or conscience.” He nodded to his dagger I’d strapped to my hip. It looked ridiculously out of place against my dark flowing skirt and matching blouse with fluttering sleeves. But I didn’t care. He wasn’t getting it back. “Stab me if you must, but I’m not putting that monstrosity on.”
“You can’t possibly be serious. It’s a shirt.” I stared up at him and I couldn’t begin to understand the new look in his eyes. “Need I remind you that you aren’t in any position to make demands or deny me?”
His annoyance joined mine in unholy matrimony.
“Here’s a little lesson since you seem to be woefully uneducated, witch. Summoning does not equal owning. Containment isn’t forever.”
He moved near enough that I either had to remain and feel the heat of his body, or shift away to hold his gaze. It took a moment for me to yield a step, but I finally did.
I couldn’t believe he wanted to argue over clothing while I was reeling over my personal ghost from Hell. If it was even real and not some sinister creation my mind conjured to haunt me.
“I can and will deny you whenever I choose,” he said, his voice now dangerously low. “Do not ever make the mistake of thinking you wield any power over me other than the spell that contains me here. And even that won’t last.”
He took a deep breath, like he was enjoying the anger emanating from me. I thought about punching him again, but refrained. “You can’t break the spell without me, demon.”
“Maybe not. But containment spells—like summoning spells—last three days. After that, I’m free to leave this circle and do as I please.” He finally stepped back and leaned against the cavern wall, watching me digest the information. “Have you come to verbally spar all night, or have you changed your mind about the blood bond?”
“Neither. I’ve come to interrogate you about witch hunters.” His sudden laughter startled me. I recovered quickly and crossed my arms. “Why is that funny?”
“Information is currency where I’m from. No one expects to get something for free. If you walked into any of the royal houses and demanded information, they’d skin you alive.”
I hoped he couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart as I let that visual take shape.
“Agreeing to a blood trade doesn’t count as payment?” I asked. He straightened up and immediately lost the grin. That got his princely attention. “I believe in making informed decisions. Therefore, I request an exchange of some basic information. Surely that won’t be too much for you to agree to.”
He inspected me the way someone might look at a cat if it suddenly started ordering the servants around. “Very well. I will indulge you by answering some questions. Choose wisely.”
“Have you heard of any humans who have banded together to hunt witches?”
He shook his head. “Not at this time. Though history has shown them to be active, so I’m sure they exist.”
“Which of your brothers bargained with my sister?”
“Pride.”
I closed my mouth. In human religion the devil was often associated with that particular sin. Last night Wrath only told me my sister had made a deal with his brother; he hadn’t mentioned the actual devil. Which meant . . .
A memory sprang to the forefront of my mind. The night before Vittoria was murdered, I’d demanded to know what she’d been doing at the monastery.
“I was summoning the devil. An ancient book whispered its secrets to me, and I’ve decided to take him as my husband. I’d invite you to the wedding, but I’m pretty sure the ceremony takes place in Hell.”
Blood and bones. Vittoria hadn’t been teasing. Questions swarmed around my head like angry bees.
“Was that all you wanted to know, witch?” Wrath stepped into view, breaking into my thoughts. My sister had told me the truth, and I’d let her down. I didn’t ask questions, or take her seriously. I should have known better—she always said outlandish things to humans, and delighted in them thinking she was lying. If I wasn’t so annoyed with her for embarrassing me in front of Antonio, I would have paid closer attention. I should have paid closer attention.
I took a steadying breath. I’d start noticing every detail now.
“Why did Pride want to marry her?” I asked. Wrath’s expression became impossible to read. My patience frayed. “I know my sister agreed to marry him. She told me so herself.”
He didn’t move, but I pictured his mind whirling as he probably formulated a thousand different scenarios, and tallied benefits against costs to information sharing. I honestly didn’t think he’d respond. He didn’t look pleased when he finally did. “Pride needs to marry in order to break a curse that was placed on him.”
“Why are you helping?”
He flashed his teeth. “I was bored. It seemed like fun.”
If he really couldn’t lie to me, that had to at least be partially true. “So, what . . . your mission is to find someone who’s willing to marry Pride?”
“Yes. He’s in need of a witch bride, specifically. Part of my task involves ensuring his betrothed makes it to our realm safely, should she accept his bargain.”
“Why does he need to marry a witch?”
“He requires someone with magical abilities to break the curse.”
“What if she refuses?”
“Then she’s made aware of opposing . . . forces . . . that wish her harm.”
It was a very polite way of saying if she declined the offer, she’d risk death.
“The other two victims were also witches. Which means they were offered the same bargain as Vittoria,” I said mostly to myself, thinking over the new information aloud. Wrath nodded politely anyway. “Were they killed before or after you spoke with them?”
“After.”
“You allow them time to consider the deal?”
“Of course. They’re given a full day to think it over.”
I was surprised by this. If I needed someone to accept a bargain to break a curse, time would be the last thing I’d want to give them. Too much could go wrong.
“How do you choose the witch?” Wrath gave me a look that said question time was drawing to an end. “At least answer this, demon. How many others from your world know who you’re offering the bargain to?”
“Only Pride and I.”
I mulled that over. That actually made the list of suspects greater. Instead of worrying about a spy in Wrath’s kingdom, it opened up the possibility of the victims telling people about the devil’s bargain in this world, too. Then those people who’d been told could have said something, or were overheard by others. A full day was a long time for the gossips to get to work.
Except . . . there was one major issue with that theory. Streghe didn’t spill their secrets. I thought about witch hunters again. Wrath didn’t sound like he thought they were a threat, but I hadn’t found any evidence to completely rule them out. It still made the most sense that they were responsible. Perhaps they’d somehow uncovered who the true witches across the island were, and the devil’s bargain timing was a coincidence.
“Will you tell me who the next witch is?”
“No.”
I considered my options. I could send notes to the twelve other families in Palermo, but there was a chance they could be intercepted. Showing up at their homes or businesses was also risky in case we were being watched, so that wasn’t an option. In these strange times, I had to be very cautious about each of my moves. My good intentions might end up costing someone their life. Hopefully the others were taking precautions after the recent murders.
Wrath stepped to the edge of the bone circle, looking like trouble. “Well? Are you ready to become a member of House Wrath?”
“No. Until you decide to work with me as an equal, I decline your offer of protection.”
His smile was filled with venom. “You weren’t ever planning on accepting the blood trade, were you?” I ignored him and plucked my satchel up from the ground and headed for the cave entrance. Wrath called out, “Where are you going?”
“To the monastery.”
“These are dangerous times; you shouldn’t go alone. Set me free and I’ll come with you.”
As if I’d let that happen. “Next time.”
“Benediximus.” Good luck. “It’s your funeral.”
His dark chuckle followed me all the way back to the city.
