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Back Kingdom of the Wicked
Chapters (58)
  1. About the Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Imprint Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Map
  7. Contents
  8. Prologue
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-One
  30. Twenty-Two
  31. Twenty-Three
  32. Twenty-Four
  33. Twenty-Five
  34. Twenty-Six
  35. Twenty-Seven
  36. Twenty-Eight
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. Thirty-Six
  45. Thirty-Seven
  46. Thirty-Eight
  47. Thirty-Nine
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-One
  50. Forty-Two
  51. Forty-Three
  52. Forty-Four
  53. Forty-Five
  54. Forty-Six
  55. Forty-Seven
  56. Forty-Eight
  57. Acknowledgments
  58. Endmatter page 1

So I sat there, beside the drying blood of my worst enemy, and wept.

Forty-Four

Forty-Four

Resurrection spells are part of both the dark arts and the Forbidden because they go against the natural order. If you attempt to steal back life, Death will take its retribution elsewhere, balancing the scales. As above, so below.

—Notes from the di Carlo grimoire

An hour later I found myself outside the ruined palace. I had nowhere else to go that was safe, and hoped Wrath’s magic was still somehow protecting the building. I’d made it into the lower level and had just closed the door when a tiny spike of coolness grazed my neck. I went to ignore it when I recalled what Nonna had said about being Marked by a prince of Hell.

Wrath had given me a way to summon him.

I dashed upstairs, and pulled supplies out of an extra bag I’d packed days before. Black candles, a few animal bones from the restaurant, my own personal grimoire I’d started, and . . .

Blood and bones! Without Wrath’s dagger, I didn’t have any gold, which was a main ingredient I needed to summon a demon from House Wrath. I paced around the room and cursed.

For one bloody moment I wished something would just go easily.

I shoved the candles out of the way and sank onto my bed, blinking back tears. I’d been so angry with Wrath after our kiss, so devastated by his omission about what he was truly after, that I’d wanted to hurt him back, but never like this.

Watching someone you know die, even if it’s someone you shouldn’t like, was no small thing. Then Envy’s threat, the loss of my family . . . I didn’t know how to proceed from here. I lay down and stared at little lines in the ceiling, thinking they were like the small fissures that had cracked my life into a million little parts. Each line represented another path, another choice, another attempt to right the wrongs committed. I mentally retraced my steps over the last several weeks, trying to divine where I may have taken a wrong turn.

When no wise answers were forthcoming, I gave up and rolled onto my side. The little dresser beside the bed had a bottle of prosecco and two glasses. A small bowl of chocolate-covered orange slices was also there. I couldn’t recall seeing either of them before, but Wrath might have brought in the treats while we were playing scopa.