Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)

by Kerri Maniscalco

“There are seven demon princes, but only four di Carlos should fear: Wrath, Greed, Envy, and Pride. One will crave your blood. One will capture your heart. One will steal your soul. And one will take your life.”

Man had a funny way of blaming the devil for things he didn’t like. It was strange that we were called evil when humans were the ones who enjoyed watching us burn.

Young women died. Life resumed. Such was the way of the world, at least according to men.

In the end, the monster we feared didn’t come from Hell. He came from privilege.

A strange, searing pain erupted under my skin. I didn’t want to consider what it meant—that maybe the mixture of our blood on the strange blade created a charm of its own.

Out of nowhere, gold light flashed over my arm before disintegrating into pale lavender. A tattoo in the same shade of purple—twin crescent moons lying sideways within a ring of stars—appeared on my outer forearm, burning almost as violently as my wrath.

The creatures from Hell were elegant, regal, well mannered. It upended my idea of how evil was supposed to present itself to the world. Wrath was supposed to be fang-toothed and drooling, not a shirtless wonder any artist would dream of painting.

He shoved gloved hands into his pockets. “You have something I want.” “If it’s my still-beating heart, I’m afraid I must decline.” “No, but I imagine you’ll end up giving that to my brother one day.”

The Horn of Hades is a key to locking the gates of Hell, but, according to it, what it really is, is two somethings. They are the devil’s horns, cut off by his own hand. I held my cornicello, feeling the truth in the hum and whispers. The root of my power. Emilia and I, for reasons I am unsure of, have been wearing the devil’s horns our whole lives. So if that’s true, how did they find their way to us?

His attention subtly dropped to my hip before he jerked his gaze back up. “Have you come crawling back to beg for help? I’m not feeling very charitable today. Captivity doesn’t suit me.”

“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.”

Right

A tear slipped down my cheek and strong fingers brushed it away. Water splashed. A different kind of warmth encompassed me. Soft, gentle lips met mine. It was a whisper, a promise, an unbreakable vow. It shattered the pain and felt like home. I think I wanted more, but was denied. He quietly chanted, his words foreign.

Light filtered in from an arched window with no coverings, accentuating the chiseled angles of his face. If I didn’t know exactly what he was, I might mistake him for an angel. Which, in a way, I supposed he was.

“Then why weren’t we wearing clothes?” A smile slowly tugged at the corners of his mouth. His expression resembled that of an immensely pleased yet smug male. “Because you ripped mine off like a hell beast in heat.” I shot him a dirty look. He blew out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

and noticed a new dress folded in a neat pile in the corner where he’d been standing. I lifted it up, surprised by its beauty. Dark skirts had tastefully placed gold glitter sprinkled across them—not unlike his shimmering luccicare.

“Just to be clear; I permitted you to leave the containment circle tonight for my benefit alone. It doesn’t mean I like you.” “And here I thought binding me for all eternity meant we were good friends.”

“Forgive me, your highness.” A small smile played across his face. “I was testing it for any hints of a demon House she might have aligned herself with.”

Wrath flashed a look that bordered on predatory. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, either. Especially if you’re such a good friend of my Emilia’s.”

“Have you and that human ever shared a bed?”

I commanded my heart to steady itself. “Is there a point to any of this, or are you simply trying to evoke my wrath again?” “There’s a point to everything, witch. We just have to figure out how it all connects. Don’t discount your friend simply because he’s mortal. Emotions are powerful forces. People kill for much less than greed or jealousy.”

“I assure you, there’s no truth to these stories.” His eyes sparked with mischief. “Though I can’t promise my kisses wouldn’t be sinfully good.”

I cursed him the entire way home, wondering why I’d gotten stuck with such a clothes-obsessed snob of a demon.

I stuck my finger in Wrath’s chest and poked him hard. “If you think that’s everything that motivates me, you’re sadly mistaken, demon. And why do you care anyway?” He slowly wrapped his fingers around mine, halting my assault on him. He didn’t let go and I wondered if he realized I’d stopped poking him the second his blazing skin touched mine. Now he was just holding my hand against his chest, his heart hammering beneath my touch. And I was allowing it.

“I crave power more than money, or blood, or lust. And there’s no greater power than choice. I’d lie for it. Steal, cheat, maim, and murder. If I could, I’d sell my soul again for it, witch.”

“Personal feelings about witches aside, finish the marriage bond with Emilia and secure your own House before war comes. You’ll need your powers at their fullest. Whoever is organizing this must have killed Pride’s wife.”

YUUUUUP that's what I'm talking about

I looked up at him, my brow crinkled. “Don’t you want to see me naked?” “I have.” “And?” “If you still want to rip your clothes off when we get home, we can discuss it then.”

“No.” My fingers dug into Wrath’s forearm. “P-please.” I don’t know if it was the way my voice broke, or if he’d been waiting for an opportunity for his own reasons, but one second Wrath had me in his arms, and the next I was behind him and his blade was buried deep in Lust’s chest. Bones crunched. He twisted the dagger up, dark blood poured from the wound.

Wrath reached over and lightly brushed blood-smeared knuckles against the side of my neck. The exact place I thought he’d kissed me the night he’d saved me from the Viperidae. I shivered and he dropped his hand. “Valeas.” Be strong. “It will again soon.”

“Representations of each element.” He nodded to the items in question. “Earth, air, fire, and water. I take it I don’t need to explain further.” He didn’t. I knew exactly what it meant. They were offerings for the goddesses to help guide a moon daughter back from darkness.

As I slipped deeper into the water, I finally understood why he’d brought the flowers. They weren’t meant for the ritual. They were for me. Their fragrance was the first bit of true pleasure I felt after mine had been stolen away.

“If you don’t believe me, then ask Wrath about the final soul he has to collect. The one that will grant him freedom from the underworld, regardless of the curse.”

“It has been a constant argument among the thirteen witch families of Palermo. Some believe it refers to the use of light and dark magic. Few think it means a prince will fall in love with a witch. Others believe it means one twin will rule in Hell to stop this world from being destroyed. And then there are others who think both twins are meant to sacrifice themselves to save both realms. One to heaven, and the other to Hell.”

“Love is the most powerful magic. Above all else, remember that. It will always guide you where you need to go.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “Now go, bambina. Go be brave. Your heart will conquer darkness. Trust in that.”

My attention shifted back to where Wrath had fallen. I had a feeling I knew what he’d do. And I knew what Vittoria had chosen. But I still wasn’t sure what I wanted. So I sat there, beside the drying blood of my worst enemy, and wept.

A small gold ring hammered into olive branches sat on a bed of crushed velvet.

My heart twisted. I knew exactly why he’d left it for me. During ancient Roman times, an olive branch was given by an enemy as a gesture of peace. A tear slipped down my cheek as I thought back to him calling it a twig of truth. Wrath, likely surmising I didn’t have much gold of my own, had given me the final piece I needed to summon him. He’d prepared for everything. Tactical to his very core.

“An angel came to me, shortly after, telling me about the devil’s curse. He said in order to break it, the devil needed to marry a witch. The angel told me that couldn’t happen, or else the devil would be set free.

“Spoken like a true princess of Hell.” His smile was razor sharp. He seemed smug, like he knew a secret.

I wrapped my fingers around his before my emotions betrayed me. There was crackling power in our connection. Tiny currents sparked over our skin. Before I could think about it, smoke enveloped us.

Instead, I stared straight ahead, pulled my shoulders back, and waited for the smoke to clear. I hoped the kingdom of the wicked was ready for a vengeful queen.