While we hurried to Valentina’s home, Anir told me about his life prior to leaving this world for what he called the Kingdom of the Wicked. He was the only child of a Tunisian father and Chinese mother—and had been playing in a nearby olive tree during the brutal slaying of his parents. His father had witnessed a crime and was going to tell authorities what he saw. Before he could do that, they were killed.

Anir said the scar came later, once he’d grown into the sort of young man others feared. Wrath found him traveling through South America, fighting in underground rings, bruised and bloodied. Some battles were a fight to the death and paid handsomely. Anir was a reigning champion for more than a year when he’d been offered employment in House Wrath.

I stopped listening to them bicker over how many years passed—apparently time moved differently in the demon realms—as we turned down the next street and slipped into a darker, narrower alleyway. A strange tug I’d felt before took control of my senses, drawing me down a second side street.

I glanced around, recognizing the neighborhood, and a terrible feeling settled in. I took a few more steps and stopped, unsurprised by the body. I’d grown suspicious before we’d rounded the corner, and the slumped silhouette was all the confirmation I’d needed.

I scanned the area.

Laundry hung from one crammed building to the other over our heads, and snapped in the breeze like teeth. It might’ve stricken fear into my heart before, but now it seemed like the perfect cover for a crime. There was no evidence. Nothing to waste time sorting through. It was a targeted job—the killer had gotten in and out, leaving nothing but the body behind.

Wrath abruptly stopped walking.

Anir noticed the victim a moment before tripping over her. He shot the demon an irritated look, and sidestepped a growing lake of blood. “Next time, a little warning would be nice.”

“A little less insubordination might make me more amenable to common courtesy in the future.”

Anir narrowed his dark eyes. The movement made the scar on his cheek stand out more. Wrath went to step around the body when his associate yanked him to a halt. I watched it all happen as if the scene was playing out on a stage, far from where I actually stood. I couldn’t believe another body lay brutalized at our feet. Bile slowly rose. Wrath seemed entirely unaffected, as if coming across maimed bodies was part of his daily life.

The demon turned on his heel, gaze locked onto the human’s hand. “What?”

Anir jabbed a finger toward the cooling body. “Aren’t we going to send for help?”