I jumped back as a hooded figure stepped into the room, and reached for my blessed chalk. This had to be the person the messenger had sold his secrets to. I bet it was Brother Carmine. How ironic that a witch hunter set a trap using magic. The figure tugged the cowl back, and I froze, ready for the witch-hating brother to attack. Instead, Antonio moved more quickly than I’d thought possible and knocked the chalk out of my hands like it might grow talons and hurt me. I watched it shatter on the ground, then snapped into reality. Relief flooded my system.

“Antonio! You’re alive. I thought . . .” I dragged my gaze up and noticed the expression on his face. Concern wasn’t present. It was hatred. My heart pounded as I took a step back. “W-what happened? Did Envy hurt you?”

“An angel of God would never hurt me.” His lips pulled into a smile that was far from the sweet, shy ones I remembered. “Unlike you.”

I could barely breathe as everything fell into place. Envy didn’t hurt him, or hold him captive. Quite the contrary. Antonio had willingly delivered Claudia straight into my enemies’ hands. He’d known she was a witch and . . .

“It’s you. You killed my sister.” My voice trembled. “Why?”

“Is it really that hard to believe? That I, a man of God, would wish to rid the world of evil?”

“You sound just like Carmine.” I curled my hands into fists, needing to feel the prick of my nails to keep from lashing out. “Murdering innocent women isn’t its own act of evil?”

“God’s finest angels are fierce warriors, Emilia. Sometimes in order to accomplish the greatest good, we must first become a blade of justice and carve through our enemies. You wouldn’t understand. It’s not something you’d be capable of doing, witch.”

What little control I’d managed to hang on to, left me.

“You know nothing of what I can do.”

“Maybe not. But if you use magic on me now, you’ll prove me right.” He jerked his chin toward my combined amulets. They were fiercely glowing. “All witches are born evil.”

My temper and hurt raged around. I stepped forward and unleashed the pent-up wrath I’d been clutching onto since my twin’s murder.

“You’re wrong. We’re not born evil. Some of us become that way. Through hate.”

Strands of my hair lifted as if there were suddenly a breeze. A storm was brewing and it wasn’t of this world. The glowing words that surrounded us pulsed faster. Magic singed the air, and incantations I didn’t know swirled through my mind. Maybe the devil’s horns were fueling me, or the first book of spells was feeding me its charms.

Perhaps it was simply my own darkness escaping. I didn’t care.