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His position was forced casual, but the sharpness of his gaze gave his tension away. He was dressed in black again, and looked like the kind of man who’d wear it from head to toe. I wondered who he planned on beating tonight, given his reasons for liking the color so much.
“Are you all right?”
I crossed my arms and gave him a flat look. “No.”
He narrowed his eyes, his attention fixed on my bandage. “What happened?”
I lifted a shoulder. I wasn’t in the mood to answer his questions. But I wanted him to answer some of mine. “Greed and Envy both want the Horn of Hades. You must want it, too. Why not take this half from me?”
Wrath didn’t rise to the bait, but his expression hardened along with his tone. “Why don’t you just ask the question you’re really interested in knowing?”
“My sister’s diary was stolen. Someone ripped our room apart and destroyed her things.”
“And you believe I had something to do with
it?” His eyes appraised me. “It’s not just a diary, is it?”
“No.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “She placed some locking spell on it, using demon magic. I managed to break it, but it didn’t give me the answers I’d been looking for.”
Wrath quietly considered the information I shared. It was a peace offering for snapping at him, and he looked like he understood that. “I would have helped you break the spell if you asked me to.”
I crossed the room and flopped onto the bed next to him, ignoring the indignant glare he shot in my direction as he bounced in place. I was bone tired, and just wanted the day to be over. After the revelation about the gates of Hell weakening, my next priority was to find my amulet. If I had the whole Horn of Hades, I might be able to lock the gates before any other demons broke free. But I needed to get some sleep so I could think straight. “Do we have anything planned tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Has someone else made a deal with Pride?”
He nodded. “Isabella Crisci.”
“When do we leave?”
“Dusk.”
I tugged the pillow out from behind him, stuffed it under my head, and closed my eyes. A solid thirty seconds of blessed silence passed before he poked me in the ribs. I cracked an eye. “Do that again, and I’ll slap you with a containment spell.”
“What are you doing?”
“Preparing for war. Now go away.”
He muttered something under his breath I didn’t catch. Nor did I care to. I hadn’t been entirely sarcastic. I needed to be well rested and sharp to find my cornicello, and to prepare for whatever other hellish nightmare the evening would bring.
When I woke up several blissful hours later, Wrath was gone. Thank the stars. Sometimes, especially when I was exhausted, I had a tendency to roll around and talk in my sleep. Vittoria used to tease me endlessly, which was embarrassing enough, but it would have been painfully awkward if it happened in front of the demon prince.
I sat up and a blanket that had been carefully placed over me fell away. I glanced at it, frowning. I was almost positive I’d fallen asleep on top of it.
“Hello?”
I scanned the silent, empty room. Wrath wasn’t lurking. Not that I expected him to be. It took a moment for me to realize why. It was almost dark outside, and he’d said we needed to leave at dusk. I hopped up from bed and raced down the stairs, yelling the demon’s name.
All was as still as the catacombs.
“Blood and bones.” The no-good prince left me to go speak to the witch on his own. I marched around the empty palace, seething. He should have woken me up. I had as much right to be there when he talked with Isabella as he did. Wrath obviously didn’t want me to potentially dissuade her from accepting the devil’s bargain. So much for being partners. I was so mad I could scream.
After the day I’d had, I needed to get my frustration out. I couldn’t just sit around, waiting for someone else to make a move. Especially now that I felt invisible hands tick, tick, ticking away the time that remained before the gates of Hell broke entirely. I couldn’t waste energy being angry. I had to go out and see if I could find my cornicello. I went back to my room and noticed a dress had been draped over a chair in the corner.
I picked it up. It was midnight black with gold roots sewn across the bodice, similar to the grimoire page I’d used to summon Wrath. Tiny serpents were also woven into the design. Exquisite didn’t come close to describing it.
“Testa di cazzo.” Only an asshole would think a pretty dress made up for a broken promise, though.
