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“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.”