He looked startled when I handed it to him. “What is that?”

“Food. Unless you’ve been catching vermin, I doubt you’ve eaten.”

“I neither need human food, nor do I wish to taint my body with the foulness of it.”

I stared at him, horrified. After all the terrible things that had happened, this was putting me over the edge. “You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t even look edible.” He took the cannoli between his two fingers and held it closer to inspect it. “What do you expect me to do with it?”

“Engage your enemies.”

He poked at the ricotta filling. “Is it poisoned?”

I sighed. “Just eat it, oh, mighty warrior. It’s for pleasure, not pain. I made them myself. I swear they’re not poisoned. This time.”

He looked skeptical, but took a bite. His attention flicked to mine as he chewed. I couldn’t help but grin as he took a larger mouthful, then grabbed a second cannoli from the bag. He was halfway through it when he noticed me still watching and scowled. “What?”

“I do not wish to taint my body with the foulness of human food,” I mocked. “But desserts are acceptable.”

He didn’t deign to respond. Instead he rummaged in the bag, frowning at the emptiness. He set it aside and looked me over again. “I imagine these delicacies were part of a larger scheme to infiltrate my defenses. You smell like blood that isn’t your own, your hair is tangled like some wild creature built a nest in it and invited its kin. My blade is missing from your hip. And you look ready to curse the world. What is it you desire to know, witch? What scared you?”

My hand moved to the place I’d been strapping his dagger. After the damage it had inflicted on my grandmother, I couldn’t stand the thought of holding it. Now I felt its absence almost as much as I missed my cornicello. “How would someone summon a Viperidae?”

“Someone with a sense of survival wouldn’t.”

“Maybe someone immortal and arrogant already did.”

“Doubtful.” Wrath wasn’t amused with my assessment of demon royalty. “Viperidae are unique creatures. If they choose to guard something, or bring it into their nest, no denizen of the underworld may interfere. They must choose to give it up on their own.”

I made a mental notation to bring him dessert anytime I wanted information. He was downright pleasant and chatty. “What does it look like?”

“Its namesake. Like a viper, it’s got long, hinged fangs. It also happens to be larger than I am and is twice as deadly. Very few antidotes exist if someone is bitten. And the ones that do exist aren’t to be taken lightly. There’s a cost for using them, like all magic. Make your own choice, but know you may not survive to see another sunrise if you disturb one.”

I rubbed at my arm, not because his warning frightened me, but because there was an annoying sensation burrowing beneath my skin. Like someone was scratching back and forth over the same section with a pin. Wrath tracked the movement and then glanced at his own arm.

It seemed our tattoos were transforming once again. Winding around the serpents—which I noted Wrath now sported around his twin crescent moons, too—were wildflowers.

Before my eyes, my snakes were given shimmering, even scales. I didn’t want to think it was beautiful, but it was. Undeniably so. Wrath curled his hand into a fist. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain, or because of our strange, ever-changing ink. I decided not to press the issue; I had one more question for the demon before I left on my mission.

“If someone was to attack a Viperidae, what sort of spell might they use?”

He dragged his attention from the magical ink on his arm, his look a study of resignation. “No one should be attacking a Viperidae. But, if someone was a foolish witch with a death wish, then that witch might try casting a sleeping spell. It might be the only way to sneak around it.”

“I . . .” I stopped myself from thanking him. If it wasn’t for him and his cruel brothers, my entire family wouldn’t be in this mess. I inhaled deeply, thinking about the sleep spell. It was simple. I liked simple plans. It meant there was less that could potentially go wrong.

“One final word of caution.” Wrath pushed himself up from the ground and moved to where I stood near the edge of the bone circle. I ignored the expanse of toned, golden skin in my face. “Freedom will be mine soon. If you are foolish enough to attack such a creature, I will not come for you.”

I stared up at him. “Good.”

Last month if someone told me I’d choose to wander through forgotten tunnels beneath the cathedral alone, tracking down an ancient snake demon guarding one half of a sacred key that not only locked the gates of Hell but were actually the horns of the devil, I’d think they needed medical attention.

Emilia Maria di Carlo didn’t do danger. My sister was the adventurous one—I was satisfied with safe, clean fun. Give me a steamy romance novel with forbidden love and impossible odds.

That was the kind of adventure I could get behind.

A little more than a month ago I would’ve laughed with my sister over the possibility that something like a giant, netherworldly snake even existed, thinking Nonna’s superstitions were hard at work again. Even with magic running through my veins, I never fully believed in the stories she told us; they were too fantastical. Immortal, blood-drinking creatures like the Wicked couldn’t be real.

Now I knew better. Every tall tale was rooted in truth.

I followed a strange, foul egg odor and bits of snakeskin that had been shed, wishing I’d gotten over my aversion to Wrath’s dagger and had taken it with me. Light from grates above dappled the ground every once in a while, but I traveled mostly in darkness.

I paid attention to the slightest shift in the atmosphere, allowing my senses to guide me. I had a suspicion the demon wouldn’t want to draw attention to itself or its precious treasure.

Plus, I already had a good idea where its nest was—Greed said it was under the cathedral, and I was quickly approaching the turnoff for it. I paused at the corner and collected myself.

I’d been mentally running through my plan, and now that I was almost facing my enemy, it seemed like it was much too simple to actually work. Maybe Wrath had decided to send me to my death armed with an impossible scheme. Diabolical demon.

I drew in a deep breath. I could do this. But I needed to move quickly. The longer I stood around, debating, the more my fear grew. I imagined what my sister would do if she were here instead. She’d charge in to save the day—like she tried doing when she’d agreed to the devil’s bargain. Granted, that didn’t turn out to be the wisest decision, but at least she was brave enough to try. Compared to what she’d done, casting a simple sleep spell and retrieving a necklace was easy.

I exhaled slowly and peered around the corner. Amber-colored light spilled into the chamber from above, illuminating the snake-shaped demon. Wrath hadn’t exaggerated—the Viperidae was bigger than he was. Oil-slick midnight scales covered a body coiled in the center of the tunnel. Even curled up, the demon took up most of the space; its prone form was taller than me by a good head or more. When it was alert and upright . . . I didn’t want to think about facing something like that.

I pulled a handful of dried chamomile leaves from my skirt pocket, offered them to the goddess of night and slumber, and whispered, “Somnum.”

Steady breathing indicated the beast was now in a deep slumber, a gift from the goddess. I exhaled. Now I just had to find the amulet and sneak back out the way I’d come. The Viperidae faced the opposite direction, and its head was easily twice the size of our biggest oven. I didn’t have to see its fangs to know they’d skewer me with one bite.

I scanned the nest and almost whooped with victory when I spotted a familiar horn-shaped object. My sister’s amulet glinted on the ground next to the beast. As luck would have it, the cornicello was on my side of the tunnels. It seemed like it should be fairly easy to sneak over, grab it, and retreat without waking the demon. I looked around, cataloguing every exit I could make out in the dim light. Two more tunnels formed offshoots in a Y layout. Easy.

And it would have been, if it wasn’t for all the pebbles and debris littered on the ground. One small misstep and, regardless of the sleep spell, the Viperidae would be on me in an instant. I gave one last prayer to a goddess I hoped was listening, and took the first step into the tunnel.

I didn’t so much as breathe too deeply, fearful of making the slightest sound. Unnatural silence blanketed the chamber like freshly fallen snow. Once, when we were little, Nonna brought us to a cabin in northern Italy where we met one of her friends. I was too young to remember what the exact circumstances were, but I never forgot the smothering quiet of snow.

I was more than halfway to the amulet when I noticed the beast had stopped breathing evenly. I paused, foot midair, and waited for death. The trouble with sleep spells was, there was no way to prevent someone or something from waking normally.

When the Viperidae didn’t move, I decided to finish what I’d started. If it was lingering somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness, it wouldn’t remain that way forever. My attention split between it and the ground, careful to not make any noise. I didn’t so much as allow one pebble to skitter out of place.

Finally, after what felt like a thousand cursed years, I reached the amulet and slowly, painstakingly, bent to retrieve it. I kept my eyes on the demon, which turned out to be a terrible mistake. The instant my fingers clasped the cornicello, the chain swished across the ground.

The Viperidae struck.

Its tail whipped out, knocking me off my feet in one quick blow. I gripped Vittoria’s amulet with one hand, and a handful of dirt and pebbles in the other. I waited until the demon was almost on me before tossing the debris in its eyes. The Viperidae released a multilayered scream that sent chills racing down my spine.

Holy goddess above . . . I’d really pissed it off. The snake-like demon coiled in and around itself, screeching and thrashing. Chunks of stone fell from the walls in an avalanche of chaos. Dust clouds filled the air, choking me. One tunnel was now completely sealed off. I had to get out of there immediately, but couldn’t.