“I wish to speak with Vittoria.”
Domenico opened his mouth—likely to argue—then abruptly snapped it shut. He didn’t want to say yes, but he couldn’t refuse. Vittoria had clearly stated she wanted me to call on her.
“Fine.” His attention cut to Fauna. “She stays here.”
That suited me well enough. Fauna and I had already decided that she’d stand guard over my body while my spirit traveled to the Shadow Realm. I lifted a shoulder and dropped it, as if I’d considered his request. “Very well. Are you ready?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he snapped, then motioned for me to come closer. I took a halting step forward, then paused, surveying him again. Domenico gave me a nasty look. “I need to attach our bodies.” At my expression of horror, he snarled, “My claws will do. Stand in front of me.”
Against my inner warning to not allow the werewolf’s instruments of death anywhere near my body, I did as he requested. Domenico turned me until my back was pressed to his chest. He hooked his arms under mine, sinking his claws into each shoulder. My teeth clenched from the pain, but I refused to let the shifter feel me flinch.
“My lady. Wait.” Fauna took a step toward us, her expression one of concern when the werewolf’s claws dug in further. I’d only ever been summoned to the Shadow Realm before, I’d never been the one to initiate, so I hadn’t known what to expect in terms of magical payment.
Yet something didn’t quite make sense.
My teeth gritted together as his claws lengthened, nearly hitting the bone. “Why do our bodies need to be attached to enter the spirit realm?”
Domenico brought his mouth to my ear, “Who said anything about the Shadow Realm?”
In a glittering whirl of power, a portal appeared. Before I could twist to Fauna, Domenico hoisted me up and jumped through. Magic sucked and pulled at me—it felt as if we’d stepped into the heart of a hurricane and the only thing tethering me to my body was the shifter’s claws. Almost as quickly as it had begun, we stepped out of the portal and into a room I knew well. Any disorientation I’d felt from the portal disappeared almost instantaneously.
Domenico released me and moved away, watching as my attention darted around the space. Limestone walls and floors. A little cabinet set into a corner that I knew contained cooking supplies, two cutting boards, knives, bowls. I was in the monastery. In the very room Antonio and I had last made bruschetta together. Right before my world upended. A wave of sadness hit me when I thought of my old friend and how brutally he’d been killed.
“Blood and bones.” I pressed a hand to my shoulder and glanced sharply at the werewolf. “Why are we here?”
“You wanted to speak with your sister. This is where she is.”
“Nearly all the princes of Hell are searching for her, and she came to the most obvious place.”
“One, the demons cannot leave the Seven Circles at the moment. And two, your mortal home is likely the last place they’d expect to find her, given your very reaction.”
My heart beat entirely too fast. Vittoria had come home. To the mortal world. Part of me wanted to push past the shifter and run for the door. Instead, I remained frozen.
I longed to rush to my home and have Nonna make sweetened ricotta and smooth my hair back while telling me everything would be all right. That the last few months were only a nightmare, a strange fever dream brought on by her superstitious tales. And maybe a bit too much wine. It very well could be an illusion. Maybe I was still in our trattoria, and Nonna’s warnings about the sea being stirred by the devil was true. Maybe it had all been make-believe, the result of an imagination well tended by reading books. Maybe Claudia and I had drunk ourselves into a stupor and had crafted this unbelievable tale about the devil being cursed.
Nervous laughter bubbled up my throat. In a strange way, being part of a story made sense. Especially when faced with my current reality.
I could go home now. I knew in my bones that Nonna would hex me if I asked her to. I imagined she’d be all too willing to play along in my denial fantasy—to make me hate and fear the seven princes of Hell once more. She’d steal my memories, and I’d live a normal mortal life, dying at a respectable age surrounded by grandchildren and a wrinkled husband.
Perhaps every once in a while I’d dream of a handsome devil with alluring gold eyes, thinking he was just a character in a romance novel I’d once read. No matter how tempting it was to forget my heartache and the betrayal, losing Wrath again was a price I was unwilling to pay.
“How did you manage to bring us here? We didn’t use the gates.” I met Domenico’s hard stare as I sorted it all out on my own. Then I understood. “The witches’ magic only locked those from the outside, they didn’t prevent you from bringing anyone out through other means.”
And Envy couldn’t transvenio us to this realm before we’d gone to House Pride because as far as I remembered, that could be done only during the days before and after a full moon.
“Shifters don’t deal with witches,” Domenico said. “They are one step up from demons. And we do not need to travel through the gates to access other realms like others do.”
But a goddess, even one from Hell, was clearly immune from that hostility. I recalled the way wolves worshipped higher powers, perhaps it was the strength of magic they respected. Or maybe in his own way, the wolf cared for my twin, though the feelings didn’t seem to be returned. My twin was rather indifferent to her latest lover, which made me wonder if she cared for someone else—if she was even capable of that sort of feeling—and was using the wolf in more ways than one.
“Do the portals work for the princes?” I asked.
“No. My—a wolf saw to it that no demon can use a portal for now.”
I studied him. Domenico clearly was going to say something aside from “wolf.” Which made me think of the mysterious Marcella Blade had mentioned.
“I heard a rumor from a vampire recently.” A phrase my mortal self would never once imagine uttering. “He mentioned meeting a half-demon half-werewolf companion with Vittoria.”
Domenico snorted. “Vampires are liars. You cannot trust a word that comes out of their fanged mouths. No werewolf would ever sink so low as to bed a demon. At least not if he wished to retain any sort of respectable standing in the pack.”
“Pretend as if it were possible. Would a werewolf with demon blood be able to travel to the Shadow Realm?”
“I told you,” Domenico gritted out between clenched teeth, “vampires lie.”
Wrath hadn’t mentioned anything about Blade lying. And he certainly would have since it would prove our theory about Vesta being alive correct. Domenico was hiding something, and no amount of badgering would get him to talk. It also didn’t escape my notice that he’d been very quick to point out a “he” as the culprit who’d bedded a demon. I could use a truth spell, but I needed to stay in his good graces so that he would take me back home. “Where is Vittoria?”
Domenico headed for the door. “I’ll escort you to her now.”
We didn’t speak as we moved through the quiet monastery. Mummies lined up on either side of us, their silent, lifeless eyes cast in our direction, watching but not truly seeing our passage. Above us in the rafters a bird flapped its wings—everything was so similar to when I’d been here last it made me swallow my rising discomfort. I wondered where the holy brotherhood was, if they were lying in wait. And they weren’t the only foes to be concerned about.
I still felt that same sense of an otherworldly presence, as if the Umbra demons were lurking in the shadows, watching my every move to report back to whichever prince of Hell had hired their services. Only this time, I wished they’d go fetch their master.
If the ghostlike demons were really there, then perhaps Envy would know where I was and would leave the fight at the Pit and show up as he often did. His meddling wouldn’t be unwelcome this time, a sign things had well and truly changed in my world. Though none of that mattered since the portals and gates were all locked and the princes couldn’t leave if they tried.
“Do you—”
“Quiet. We don’t need the brotherhood interfering.” Domenico pushed the back door open, its hinges creaking loudly, as he stuck his head out and listened. It had been late afternoon when we’d left the Seven Circles, but it was fully evening here.
We stepped into the balmy night, and I inhaled the familiar air scented with orange blossoms and plumeria. Stars twinkled overhead like they knew a secret and were excited at the prospect of its discovery. Instead of feeling like I’d finally come home, the warmth almost felt unnatural now, stifling and oppressive. It made me crave the snow and ice and the demon who commanded it.