I cocked my head to the side. “You’d have to come whenever I called for you?”
“Not exactly, but like I said before, I would know when you needed me.”
“Why do you care about protecting me?”
“I don’t. But thanks to your spell I’m forced to, or I’ll risk having my powers diminished. Therefore, I am adhering to the terms. Some of us graciously accept our duty.”
Sure. When we were magically required to. “How exactly does the protection work?”
“Demons will sense the bond and reconsider harming you. It might not persuade all of them not to kill you, but it would give them pause. They’d know they’d incur my wrath as punishment for interfering in House matters.”
Much as I was loath to admit it, having the demon of war as a guardian angel wasn’t the worst luck. I didn’t have to trust or even like him—I only needed to have faith in my own instincts. Right now they were telling me he wasn’t responsible for murdering my sister. I was fairly certain this bargain was more beneficial to him, but I’d eventually find a way to bend it in my favor. And even if I couldn’t, it didn’t matter. Wrath didn’t seem to want me dead, and I needed to be very much alive to discover what happened to Vittoria.
“Fine. I accept your offer of a blood trade.”
“Willingly?” he asked. I nodded. “Hand me my dagger.”
I hesitated for only a second, recalling the protection charm I’d cast on him. For the first time since he appeared in the cave, he looked elated as I slid the blade into his waiting grasp. Before I changed my mind, he cut his finger and enticed a few blood drops to bead up. The wound sealed almost immediately after.
“I won’t have to . . . drink it, will I?”
He cast a quick glance my way. “What sort of stories have you been told about us?”
I mumbled “wicked blood-drinking deviants,” and he must have heard me because he didn’t bother asking for clarification.
“Unless you enjoy drinking blood, mixing mine with yours will do.”
Challenge rose in my steady gaze as I lifted my still-bleeding arm and he pressed his finger to my wound. He seemed just as repulsed by it as I was. I gritted my teeth, trading blood with a demon wasn’t my ideal evening, either, but here we were.
“Repeat after me, I . . . whatever your full name is, willingly accept this blood trade with House Wrath for the term of six months.”
“Six months?” I yanked free of his grasp and bunched my hands into fists. “That’s absurd! What if I don’t want your protection for that long?”
He rubbed his temples. “What is it that you want, witch? Why did you summon me?”
“To find out who murdered my sister.”
“And?”
I hesitated. I originally wanted to summon a demon to break the spell on my sister’s diary. I definitely didn’t want Wrath knowing about it now. At least not until I knew why Carolina said they’d come looking for it. “That’s it.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you haven’t?”
He shook his head. “Being bound to you prevents me from lying. It would be . . . discourteous to do so.”
“Of course. One must always have good manners while ripping the hearts from their enemies.” I looked him over, appraising. I wasn’t simply going to accept his word without proof. “If your magic wasn’t tethered by the protection spell, would you harm me?”
“If I had to, yes.”
And he didn’t sound all too put off by the idea. At least I knew he was telling the truth about being unable to lie. Instead of responding, like he seemed primed for, I waited. Nonna said a lot could be gained from reading the silence. He was a demon of war, but I understood strategy, too. It didn’t take long for him to fill the quietness.
“Believe what you will, but we’re aligned in the common goal of finding your sister’s murderer.”
He and I weren’t aligned in anything and never would be. Fury whipped around the cave, faster and mightier than the wind now howling outside. He gave me a bored look that made me seethe more. “Why do you care about finding justice for my sister?”
“I don’t,” he said. “Do not confuse me with a human with noble intentions.”
“If you want me to trust you enough for a blood bargain, or whatever it’s called, I need to know why you want to solve her murder.”
He was quiet a minute, seeming to consider what information to share. “I want to stop the murderer before he strikes again. Aligning myself with you isn’t ideal, but it’s the hand I’ve been dealt and I’m playing it to my advantage. Not only are you a witch, like each victim before your sister, you’re also connected to the most recent victim. At some point, I believe you may prove valuable in drawing out the killer; therefore, I’d like to sense when you’re in danger so I can remove the threat.”
I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand to stall me.
“I will not give you any more details unless you agree to the blood bond.”
Wrath wasn’t lying—he wouldn’t tell me anything else unless I agreed. I might be willingly choosing his offer, but it didn’t really seem like I had any other options. I thought about my sister—I knew exactly what she would do. I inhaled deeply. “You’ll tell me more about my sister’s involvement with your brother?”
“I’ll exchange all necessary information.”
Tricky demon. All “necessary” information didn’t equal all information. I stared at him, trying to work out the uneasy feeling growing inside me. He claimed the blood bond was part of the protection spell I used, but I wasn’t sure that was all. I thought about him having a link to me. He said he could tell when I was in danger, but I didn’t like the idea of him knowing where I was. Demons might have rules and etiquette, but I knew nothing of them.
Maybe he considered dragging someone to Hell to reign there for eternity a high honor.
“Answer one more question for me,” I said. “Aside from not being able to lie, what else are demons forbidden from doing?”
He waited a beat before responding.
“We also cannot enter a human home without an invitation. We’re permitted to use our powers, but not to cause direct physical harm. And, once summoned, we are forced to remain in this realm until our invitation is withdrawn.”
“If I withdrew your invitation now, would you have to leave right away?”
“Yes. Do we have a bargain?” He looked relaxed, casual. But his eyes were focused, sharp. He very much wanted me to agree to his offer. I thought about the stories Nonna told us as children, about how the Wicked could never be trusted. Wrath had been specifically named.
I wanted very much to be more like my twin. But I couldn’t help being me.
“No, Prince Wrath. I do not accept your blood trade.”
Thirteen
A witch must never enter into a blood trade with a prince of Hell. By doing so, it allows the one conjured to have a direct link to the witch. It is unclear how long the bond lasts or if it can be broken. Never forget: forging a bond made from love is as dangerous as those made through hate.
—Notes from the di Carlo grimoire
Nonna glanced at the dagger strapped to my hip, then pounded chicken like she was envisioning someone’s skull instead. I’d commandeered the weapon again before I’d left the cave, and Wrath had looked very much like Nonna now. If she was that put off by the demon prince’s blade, I couldn’t imagine how upset she’d be if she knew about the magical tattoo we shared.
I’d chosen a blouse with long fluttering sleeves to hide it. Before I went to bed, I inspected the two crescent moons within the circle of stars. The ink shimmered like moonlight. Despite the fact it bound me to Wrath, I didn’t mind it all that much. It was delicate and pretty.
Thwack. Thwack. Nonna beat the poor chicken with singular focus. At least today’s house special would be mouthwateringly tender for our customers. It was good some people still had an appetite. I’d certainly lost mine.
I ignored the way my stomach churned each time I thought about the events of last night. If Nonna knew I’d not only summoned one of the Malvagi, but almost willingly entered into a blood trade with one . . . I closed my eyes and fought the urge to lay down.
Nonna might stop pounding the chicken and walk herself off the nearest cliff instead.
My focus slid to the little clock above the stove. I wanted to finish dinner service and get back to the cave where Wrath was trapped before dark. Tonight I’d demand answers. Aside from his royal standing in Hell, I didn’t know anything about him. For all I knew he was the devil and had his own evil agenda.
Regardless of all the unknowns surrounding Wrath, I was certain of at least two facts. The first being he wanted to locate my sister’s murderer and probably kill whoever it was. And the second was his desire to form a blood bond with me. I had no intention of going through with the creepy bond, but it gave me excellent leverage to use when I interrogated him. His brother seemed to be interested in bargaining with witches, and I wanted to know why.
If his demon brethren weren’t responsible for murdering my twin, that made it all the more likely strega hunters were responsible. Having Wrath around to guard me while some witch-hating zealot was ripping out hearts might be wise. I’d let the demon prince fight him and run for safety. And if they destroyed each other in the process? Good riddance.
I sliced mushrooms for the sauce, adding it to the pan of garlic and shallots already simmering in butter. My work was mechanical today, the kitchen held little magic like it once did. It didn’t help that my focus kept straying to the clock. I was worried about leaving a demon by himself all afternoon. Whether he was a prince of Hell or something worse, he was still undeniably wicked.
Before I’d left the cavern at daybreak, I’d cast an extra spell of containment that didn’t go over very well with him. He couldn’t harm me because of the protection charm, and I was fairly confident he wasn’t lying about being trapped for three days, but I enjoyed taking extra precautions.