As if I had any good options. “Was I supposed to stay home and watch demons tear my world apart? Murder or torture my family and friends and continue ripping hearts from witches? You keep alluding to the fact I had a choice, but I didn’t.”
“You always have choice.”
“Not with the clock ticking down and the gates cracking. Signing the contract with Pride was my best option to stop the carnage. I made a decision with the information I had. If I made a mistake or if you’re not pleased—for whatever reason—maybe you should have actually talked to me that night. Instead you stood there, cold and furious, and didn’t say a word!”
His gold eyes narrowed. “Has it occurred to you that I couldn’t?”
“Couldn’t what? Talk to me?”
“Interfere.”
“Through magic or a demon edict?” I searched his face, but he’d replaced his annoyance with that emotionless mask he wore so well. I reined in my temper, not wanting to fight. “I thought the devil was the only one who’s cursed. Are you implying that’s not true? Is there something I need to know about you?”
His hands flexed at his sides. He looked like he wanted to rush away to a sparring ring and work off his frustration. “Perhaps that’s a question you should have asked your mortal family. They certainly seem to have selective gaps in their storytelling. Have you ever wondered why, witch?”
“How dare you speak of my family—”
He magicked himself away in a cloud of smoke, leaving me reeling with confusion. My family wasn’t keeping any secrets. Nonna shared stories all of our lives about the Wicked and their lies and manipulations. She warned against the dark arts and the payments demanded from that type of magic. All of that was true.
I paced the aisle of books. Wrath was wrong or he was lying or omitting more truth. Nonna told us about the blood debt between the First Witch—La Prima Strega—and the devil, about how he demanded a blood sacrifice for something that was stolen from him.
The Horn of Hades, the two amulets my sister and I had been given at birth, turned out to be those objects. His horns. Wrath collected them the night he brought me Pride’s contract. He’d used them to lock the gates of Hell, just as he’d promised, then hidden them from me.
Fury rose in me but quickly gave way to confusion. Nonna had known about Star Witches and the devil’s horns and she hadn’t told us.
I’d found out about the horns through my sister’s diary, and Star Witches from Wrath and Envy, though that wasn’t the name they’d used. Envy had called me a Shadow Witch.
Nonna didn’t admit to knowing about either right away when I’d confronted her.
Which made me wonder how many other things she hadn’t been forthcoming about. We learned the bare minimum of earth magic; how to cast simple spells aided with herbs and objects of intent. Charms of protection. Sleep spells and harmless spells that manipulated the dew on a glass to slide it across a surface. Things that hardly required much skill.
A Latin phrase or word here, a pinch of this there and a spell was cast, aided with our magical blood. What else was there about the curse that I didn’t know?
Or our magic, for that matter.
I walked in an agitated circle. Now that I was questioning things, I couldn’t stop finding more gaps in our lives. Nonna spent so much time teaching us the ways of demons, only to stunt our education regarding our own abilities. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason for that. Nonna was much too smart to have forgotten valuable lessons.
Surely offensive magic was just as important as our defensive spells of protection. But she never taught us those kinds of bold spells. In fact, she seemed determined to keep that magic from us at all costs. Was there something dangerous about us using it?
Vittoria and I were told to listen to her, to obey and follow the rules or suffer the consequences. I’d never wanted to anger Nonna or cause harm.
But Vittoria always pushed the limits, unafraid of the consequences.
Wrath’s sharp comment carved deep, infected me. Like it was designed to do. His weaponry was not limited to steel or bullets or sly grins and heady kisses. His words were just as deadly when aimed and fired at a target. I couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling that maybe he was right.
There were holes in my education I couldn’t ignore.
Some spells came easily as if through body memory. Some I had to learn and almost always forgot. I couldn’t recall where or how I’d discovered the truth spell, only that one day I wanted truth and out came a spell that stole away free will. Nonna had been furious when I told her. Instead of being rewarded for using that level of power, I was punished.
I marched to the end of the shelves and found a plush, oversized chair to sit in. A thought I couldn’t run from followed me there. Maybe Wrath wasn’t referring only to Nonna.
My sister had found the first book of spells, used demon magic to lock her diary, and had brought Greed and the shape-shifters together for reasons I didn’t fully understand, given the fact shape-shifters and demons were natural enemies.
I stared down at my finger, startled to see I still wore the olive branch ring Wrath had given me. I absently twisted the gold band around my finger. I wondered what else Vittoria might have discovered before her death. Was it the full truth of the devil’s curse and the blood debt? Maybe that knowledge, more than anything else, was why she’d really been killed.
Something buried deep in my memory stirred, then floated away. A wisp of smoke I couldn’t grasp. I had the strangest impression that maybe the devil hadn’t been cursed at all.
If that was true… then perhaps the witch murders had nothing to do with his finding a bride, and everything I thought I knew had been fabricated from deception. Nonna. Vittoria. The seven princes of Hell. At least one of them had been lying.