“At last.”

I jumped back as a hooded figure stepped into the room, and reached for my blessed chalk. This had to be the person the messenger had sold his secrets to. I bet it was Brother Carmine. How ironic that a witch hunter set a trap using magic. The figure tugged the cowl back, and I froze, ready for the witch-hating brother to attack. Instead, Antonio moved more quickly than I’d thought possible and knocked the chalk out of my hands like it might grow talons and hurt me. I watched it shatter on the ground, then snapped into reality. Relief flooded my system.

“Antonio! You’re alive. I thought . . .” I dragged my gaze up and noticed the expression on his face. Concern wasn’t present. It was hatred. My heart pounded as I took a step back. “W-what happened? Did Envy hurt you?”

“An angel of God would never hurt me.” His lips pulled into a smile that was far from the sweet, shy ones I remembered. “Unlike you.”

I could barely breathe as everything fell into place. Envy didn’t hurt him, or hold him captive. Quite the contrary. Antonio had willingly delivered Claudia straight into my enemies’ hands. He’d known she was a witch and . . .

“It’s you. You killed my sister.” My voice trembled. “Why?”

“Is it really that hard to believe? That I, a man of God, would wish to rid the world of evil?”

“You sound just like Carmine.” I curled my hands into fists, needing to feel the prick of my nails to keep from lashing out. “Murdering innocent women isn’t its own act of evil?”

“God’s finest angels are fierce warriors, Emilia. Sometimes in order to accomplish the greatest good, we must first become a blade of justice and carve through our enemies. You wouldn’t understand. It’s not something you’d be capable of doing, witch.”

What little control I’d managed to hang on to, left me.

“You know nothing of what I can do.”

“Maybe not. But if you use magic on me now, you’ll prove me right.” He jerked his chin toward my combined amulets. They were fiercely glowing. “All witches are born evil.”

My temper and hurt raged around. I stepped forward and unleashed the pent-up wrath I’d been clutching onto since my twin’s murder.

“You’re wrong. We’re not born evil. Some of us become that way. Through hate.”

Strands of my hair lifted as if there were suddenly a breeze. A storm was brewing and it wasn’t of this world. The glowing words that surrounded us pulsed faster. Magic singed the air, and incantations I didn’t know swirled through my mind. Maybe the devil’s horns were fueling me, or the first book of spells was feeding me its charms.

Perhaps it was simply my own darkness escaping. I didn’t care.

I held the Horn of Hades and whispered a spell so foul, the words burned as they left my lips. I lifted my arm, then slashed down in an arc. Invisible claws cut Antonio’s robes to ribbons.

This time I spared his flesh.

Fear entered his eyes. He slowly backed away, hands up. As if that would stop me.

“Frightened?” I stepped toward him. “You should be. I’ve only just begun.”

I lifted my arm and he cringed away. His voice quivered. “M-mercy, Emilia. P-please.”

“Now you want mercy?” Pure, white-hot anger burned in my soul. “Tell me, did my sister beg?”

I thought of her chest, the gaping hole where her heart had been. He did that to her. Our friend. I threw my arm back and slashed his chest open. An eye for an eye. Justice. He pressed his fingers to his wounds, saw blood, and stumbled away. It was nothing more than a scratch.

Fury propelled me forward. “Did you offer Vittoria mercy when she pleaded for her life? Or Valentina? How many women pleaded with you to spare them? Where was your mercy then?”

He fell to his knees and began praying. I waited. But God didn’t show up. The goddess of death and fury did. I knelt down, eyes blazing, and forced him to look at me. I wanted him to see my sister’s face, too. Tears slipped down his cheeks. I fought the urge to smash his skull against the floor and watch the life leave those hate-filled eyes.

Death would be a kindness. And I wasn’t feeling particularly kind.

“When I finally kill you, you will beg for the sweet release of death, Antonio.” I glanced at my finger, concentrated on an invisible blade pricking it. A tiny ruby of blood beaded up. “I swear on my blood, you will never know true happiness again. Your heart will be cursed to be broken each time you forget the sins you’ve committed. And each time you laugh, I will be there, waiting, to remind you.”

I was about to seal the vow with the drop of blood, when the scent of urine filled the space around us, awakening a memory in me. I’d scared the piss out of Antonio. Just like Wrath had done when he’d beaten information from . . . I startled back and let my hand fall to my side.

Wrath, a prince of Hell, had shown mercy.

Knowing the sort of power he had, I don’t know how he’d managed restraint. And I wished I could be a little more like him now. But I wasn’t.

“New rules. You will tell me the truth about everything I ask, and only then will I consider sparing your life. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.” He nodded several times and inhaled deeply. “W-what do y-you want to know?”

“Before you met this ‘angel of death’ something must have prompted this. Tell me what grew so twisted inside you. So foul.”

“I—I’m not . . .” He shook his head. “A-all right. A week before my mother died, I took her to a woman I thought only used folk magic and prayer to heal. Turned out, she was a witch.” His laugh was hollow. I gave him a flat look and he choked it off. “She caused my mother’s death. I vowed, right then, to make amends to God. I promised if I ever met another witch, I’d send her straight to the dungeons of Hell where she belongs. That’s when my prayers were answered.”

“How?”

“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. He said he’d provide the names of potential brides, and all I had to do to save us from true evil, was kill witches.”

My gaze strayed to the first book of spells. I thought about my sister again. “Did this angel give you my sister’s name?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “Your sister’s death was . . . I didn’t want to . . . I even asked the angel to spare her, but he said leaving one seed of evil would cause more to grow. I fought it for a little while. I even argued that she wasn’t a witch, he was mistaken. Then she . . .” He refused to meet my eyes. “Then she started talking about summoning the devil that night in the monastery, and I couldn’t deny the truth. She had to be stopped.”

I held back my fury. Vittoria always joked about summoning the devil, or hexing someone, or other silly things she’d say in front of humans. They normally laughed, thinking she was kidding. I’d worried one day someone might start questioning her. I never thought it would be someone close to us. “You betrayed her. Me.”

“And you didn’t do the same to me?” he asked, his voice turning momentarily sharp before he caught himself. “You cast a spell to make me fall in love with you. You lied to my face every day, hiding the truth of what you are.” Despite my earlier show of power, his face contorted with rage. “You belong in Hell with the other cursed and damned souls. You’re not even human. You disgust me.”

“I have never used a spell on you for love.”

“Can you honestly say—before tonight—that you’ve never used magic on me without my consent? Are you an exception to the rule?”

“Of course I haven’t, I . . .” I closed my mouth. I’d used a forbidden truth spell on him when we were children. I’d violated his free will. What I’d done was wrong, but it didn’t give him the right to murder women in retribution. “How were you planning on stopping the devil from finding a witch in a different city?”

“By summoning him.”

“You, a man of God, doing the work of supposed angels, want to summon the devil?”

“Oh, I don’t want to do it, Emilia. But I’ll do what has to be done. I want him to watch as I destroy his horns.”

My hand went to my amulet. “How do—”

“How did I know you’re wearing the actual horns of the devil?” he mocked. “My angel of death. You see, first we’d destroy every living witch. Then, we’d summon the devil and put a blade through him.”

“What was this angel’s name?”

Antonio lifted a shoulder. “He wouldn’t tell me. But there was something . . . powerful about him. I knew he wasn’t lying. Only something heaven sent could inspire that much glory.”

Whether Antonio knew it or not, I’d bet my soul he’d been influenced by a prince of Hell. And I think I knew exactly who had orchestrated it all: Envy. The traitor demon. I just needed proof, and then I’d destroy him.

“How do the hearts factor in?”

He gave me an odd look. “Hearts?”

Like he didn’t know. Clearly, his cooperation was ending. Or maybe there were parts of his beastly acts he couldn’t face. I stopped paying attention to Antonio, and started thinking about my next move. I thought about my sister, about her plan to summon the devil. She wanted to bargain with him.

Maybe she knew Envy, or some other prince of Hell had been nudging the hands of fate, and that the only way to stop him was to help Pride break the curse. Which would explain why she wanted the werewolves and Greed to team up. Whatever her reasons, she thought her best course of action was to go to the underworld. Antonio might be the instrument of death, he might have chosen to commit these atrocious acts, but he hadn’t acted alone.

Now I wanted to find out who else had helped kill my sister.