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My sister’s belongings and everything she’d loved had been destroyed.

Vittoria had finally been erased from my world. And now I wasn’t sure I knew how to go on. I laid on my side and tucked my knees up to my chin and cried. I didn’t care if there was an incorporeal demon watching. I didn’t care if there was a witch hunter, or prince of Hell, or sadistic human monster delighting in my pain. I lost something I’d never regain, and I mourned.

If the Aper demon was only a small taste of what was to come, my city would spend many nights crying over stolen loved ones. I felt so helpless. So lost and alone. How could I stop such powerful beings? The whole situation seemed impossibly hopeless. I’d been deluding myself into thinking I stood a chance at solving the murders, and saving other lives. I wanted to help, but it wasn’t enough. I heaved and hiccupped until I had nothing left. I hated how altered this world had become.

It took a little more time, but I finally dried my tears. The demons stole my sister’s life, and would keep taking and taking until they were stopped. So what if I didn’t have all the answers? I would do everything I could to stop the gates of Hell from opening. I’d had enough.

I pushed myself up, clutched at my anger, and went to grab my pen and pot of ink. I wrote out a quick note to my family, telling them I loved them, and promised I’d be fine, but I couldn’t stay here anymore. I vowed to keep them safe, no matter what.

No one else I loved would be taken from me.

I’d use the darkest of magic to be certain of it.

“How are you doing?” I asked Claudia. Her face was splotchy and her eyes were swollen.

“Please, come in.” She opened the door to her home and I stepped inside. The curtains were all drawn tightly. Glittery black candles burned and flickered on almost every surface, giving off a peppery scent. An altar piled with animal bones and bunches of dried herbs adorned the top of a small chest in the sitting room. A mirror lay against the wall behind it, reflecting the macabre scene back at me. I’d almost forgotten poor Valentina had been murdered.

It felt like a year ago, not just a day.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m not sure. I feel a strange mixture of emotions.” Claudia’s voice was quiet. She motioned for us to sit on a threadbare sofa before the altar of mourning. “At first I felt like someone had ripped out my heart, too. Then I felt numb. And now…” she sniffled, shook her head. She wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Now you want vengeance.”

She glanced up sharply, and swiped at her nose. “Is that wrong?”

“No. I used to think it was, but not anymore.” I swiveled on the cushion and clutched her hands. “Do you have a spell to make a ward that’s powerful enough to kill a demon if it tries crossing it?”

Claudia’s grip on me tightened and she set her jaw. “I believe so.”

“Even an invisible one?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” I said. “I want you to cast a ward around your home immediately, and mine if you can, too. Do you need blood for the spell?” She dropped her gaze again and nodded. I figured as much. Dark magic demanded payment. I let go of her hands and rolled back one of the sheer sleeves on my blouse. “I’ll just need a knife, two vials, some lavender oil, and a bandage.”

“Emilia, you can’t—”

“I can,” I said, firmly. “I want to help any way I can.”

“All right.” My friend pushed herself to her feet. Her sadness had been replaced by something sharper, angrier. Something I recognized in myself now, too. “I’ll fetch the blade.”

THIRTY-THREE

Wrath didn’t utter one word when I barged into his stolen palace and marched up the stairs. I imagined he sensed my raging emotions and was courteous enough to give me a wide berth.

He watched in silence, one annoying brow raised, as I tugged at the bandage on my arm and disappeared from view. On the third floor, down the end of an elegant hallway, I found a room that was five times the size of the bedroom I’d shared with Vittoria.

I should have probably hated it for being so beautiful, but couldn’t.

It had ice blue walls with a sunshine-colored tapestry and a four-poster bed—smack in the middle—that I could roll across at least three times and not topple off of. A tiled bathing chamber with a sunken tub and floor-length mirror was attached, and even with a few cracks and chips, I decided it would definitely do.

Though, given the newness of the bed and tapestry, maybe I hadn’t been the first person to think I’d like this room. I wanted to be annoyed that Wrath guessed right, but was exhausted and didn’t have the capacity to feel much of anything. It had been a long terrible day.

I unpacked my own blanket, flicked it across the mattress, and smoothed it down. I tossed the pillow on next, and even though it wasn’t much, it felt a little more like home. Especially since home didn’t feel like home after my room had been invaded and destroyed. Before I started crying again, I went into the bathing chamber and turned on the water.

After I scrubbed my face clean and brushed out my hair, I decided my next order of business was a nap. I walked into my room and halted. Wrath sprawled across my commandeered bed, one arm draped over his torso, the other bent behind his dark head.