Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)

Vittoria’s head snapped in my direction. “Did he now?”

I nodded. “If you stop your campaign to stir up trouble and create inner conflict, it might be something I’m interested in. But I won’t help you if you keep pitting everyone against one another. That’s not the sort of life I want anymore.”

We strolled to the end of what had been our street; the silence was comfortable, but my thoughts had shifted to more pressing matters again. Ones that needed to be addressed before we left this fantasy and returned to the Seven Circles. My sister was wanted in that realm, and we needed to ensure her safety. We paused at the next street, and I lifted my face toward the heavens. The air was balmy, the salty sea breeze pleasant. Yet chills raked down my body.

I dropped Vittoria’s arm and faced her. “If you are harboring Vesta, or Marcella, or whoever she’s calling herself, you need to tell Wrath. He will sense the truth of it, and you’ll be cleared of any wrongdoing. Please. I cannot lose you, too. Not after all of this.” I motioned to the world around us. “Please, Vittoria. Just tell me she’s alive and well and you have a damn good reason for making a powerful enemy.”

Vittoria pressed her lips together and glanced away. If I was correct and Vesta was alive—which I fully believed to be the truth—my sister was not going to confess anything to me. I had to trust she had a reason, something more powerful than vengeance that drove her.

“Who is the actual villain in this sordid tale?” I asked instead. “Us? The demons? Witches?”

Vittoria thought carefully. “Depending on whose side you’re on, I suppose it could be all of us. Though I find the most fault with witches and demons. Their dislike of each other has gone on forever, and they never should have dragged us into their issues.”

I blew out a long breath.

“No wonder it hasn’t been a simple path to unraveling the mystery. You and I schemed against Pride and Wrath. Pride was careless with his consort’s heart. Which enraged the First Witch. Sursea cursed Wrath when he wouldn’t whisk away her daughter from Pride, Wrath responded in kind, and the Star Witches upheld their duty to keep the Feared and the Wicked locked away, even if it meant sacrificing their own.”

“And on and on the blame goes,” Vittoria finished. “I don’t think it matters who the first villain is or was—we’ve all done terrible things.”

“But someone did help Vesta escape Greed’s court. And someone is truly dead.”

Vittoria stared off into the distance for another moment. “I was told the vampires came to steal you away. Perhaps there is a new threat emerging, one that’s slipping in while chaos breaks loose.”

“You were the one who sparked that particular fire.”

“I didn’t think they’d come for you. I thought they’d set their sights on House Greed.”

“Why? What is it about Greed that’s making you do such horrid things?”

“I haven’t done horrid things,” she countered. “I’ve only done to him what he’s done to others. Maybe the vampires have their own war goals, and I accidentally gave them hope of winning.”

Frustration built in my chest. If my sister would just trust me with the truth, this could all be remedied. “While I don’t doubt the vampires would love to start an internal war to distract from their own schemes, I don’t think they’re responsible.”

“Mmh.” Vittoria’s gaze took on that faraway look again. “Perhaps it’s the witches then. They probably heard of my alliance with Greed and targeted his House to start strife. I’m sure they’re hoping the demons will remove us from the playing board once and for all.”

“Vittoria,” I warned. “Stop. I know it’s not the witches or demons or wolves. Just tell me the truth. Why keep so many secrets?”

“Perhaps you’ll just have to trust me.”

“After all you’ve done? All the lies and half-truths and games?”

Anger crossed my twin’s face.

“I have been trying to work around the curse, break your magic free, reestablish connections to this world, and have done the best I can. If it’s coming across as lies and manipulation, I am truly sorry, Emilia. But I have my reasons. And you’ll simply need to honor that or continue battling me. If the witches didn’t do what they did to us, then none of this would have happened. And if you believe they’ll sit back and allow us to regain our full power without attempting to bind it again, you’re mad.” Vittoria turned to me, her expression calculating. “There is one way for us to ensure they don’t succeed.”

I held a hand to my chest, my heart pounding faster the longer my sister held my gaze. “Is there no other way to break the spell-lock?”

“Not that I’ve discovered. Believe me, I looked before I had mine torn out.”

“Who did tear your heart out?” I asked. “Domenico?” “Many creatures in the underworld were only too happy to be considered for the task. Leave it at that for now.” Vittoria’s gaze iced over before it softened again. “You won’t have to worry about that, though. I’ll be with you.” I paced away, and my sister just watched without comment as I walked back and forth, my mind and heart racing. The witches bound us. And yet I couldn’t stop thinking about Envy’s reaction to when Vittoria first wished to remove my spell-lock. He’d been so opposed.

And Wrath didn’t really speak about it much at all. I knew he was uncertain, yet my sister had survived. She’d returned to her full goddess self. Which made me wonder once again if there was another reason Wrath didn’t say more. I thought of the Viperidae attack—how after the snakelike demon had bitten me, Wrath used magic that took the venom into his own body.

I also recalled something saccharine sweet he’d made me drink…

“Goddess above. He gave me nectar.”

Ambrosia. The food of the gods.

I stopped pacing and stared at nothing. He’d also given me something sweet to drink when I’d had the mild case of hypothermia. More nectar. More goddess-healing fuel. Wrath couldn’t be worried about my dying. So what else would motivate him to use such caution? I resumed my pacing, letting my mind run over different theories and scenarios until one separated itself from the rest.

Envy was fearful that day in our cell. So were Lust and Sloth and even Greed when I’d lost my temper and set that painting ablaze. And Wrath… he might not be afraid of me, but all the princes of Hell had called us the Feared. My husband didn’t fear for my life, he feared for his realm. He feared setting me free, fully. Wrath didn’t actively stop me, but he certainly wasn’t helping, either. This choice was mine and mine alone.

I spun around and met my sister’s patient gaze.