Waiters leaned in, lighting the bacon candles in unison. Gluttony encouraged everyone to sip from their wine and watch the candles melt. Bored with the theatrics, Envy turned to the male demon seated beside him. “Any word on the Stars of Seven?”
“Nothing new, your highness. All indications lead to the forest.”
Wrath’s attention slid to his brother. He carefully sipped his wine. “Chasing fairy tales again?”
“I wonder, dear brother, when I become the most powerful, will you still taunt me?” Envy’s smile was vicious. “Or will you bow down to your new king?”
Lady Sundra subtly glanced at the prince next to her, her gaze calculating.
I pressed my lips together, trying to keep the questions from spilling out. Anir leaned across the table, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Power is currency here. Mortals accumulate wealth; our royals do the same with magic.”
“Can the princes of Hell be dethroned by lesser demons?”
“No. They always rule their circles. It’s basically a test of who holds the most power amongst them. Sibling rivalry, if you will.”
“So the devil is a title that can be passed to different rulers.”
The princes near us stiffened, but Anir paid them little attention. “Not always. It more or less influences different eras on Earth. You can see through the ages which of the seven princes held the most power and influence based on the mortal world. Wars, greed, sexual awakenings. And yet,” his whisper was anything but soft, “I cannot seem to recall an era of envy.”
Envy slammed his wineglass onto the table. “Mind your tongue, mortal.”
“Or else…”
Before they came to blows, the chef reappeared, his voice carrying over the chamber. “The third course is our most interactive. I ask that you place the slices of raw, marinated beef over the coals and quickly sear them on each side. Once the meat comes off the coals, sprinkle the frozen bleu cheese crumble across the strips.”
Wrath shifted on my right, drawing my attention. He was focused on the door, where Greed had just walked in and bowed politely. He was in a bronze suit, his hair and eyes matching the exact shade of the metal he seemed born of. There was still that sense of wrongness in his sharp gaze, as if he were not quite as accustomed to the pageantry as his brothers were.
He gave Wrath a small nod before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. “Apologies for tardiness. Do not stop the feast on my account.”
“Fucking sit, already,” Gluttony muttered. “Chef! Bring out another dish.”
Taking advantage of family dramatics that diverted Wrath’s attention, I leaned over to whisper in Fauna’s ear. “Have you ever heard of the Stars of Seven?”
“Oh, you mean the Seven Sisters. Of course. Everyone here has. In old legends, they appeared to travelers in need, their forms no more substantial than shadows. Some say encountering them is a blessing, but most here believe it’s a curse.”
“Why?”
“If you interrupt their celestial spinning, there’s a chance they may pluck and weave the wrong thread of fate. Sometimes the results of such interferences are immediate, and others take decades.”
“How… intriguing. If they weave threads of fate, they must be able to recall the past. See the threads they’ve already spun.” Fauna gave me a wary look but nodded. “So if anyone would know where lost objects are, it’s the Seven Sisters.”
“Emilia…” Fauna warned. “You cannot seek them out. Asking about a living being can cause damage to both the past and future.”
“I wasn’t planning on asking about a being. Only an object.”
“Whatever you’re scheming, stop. It’s too dangerous.”
Dangerous or not, I would find the mysterious spinners of fate. One of the enchanted skulls had mentioned “Seven Stars” and “Seven Sins.” I’d immediately guessed the demon princes, but hadn’t known what the seven stars meant. Now I was fairly confident I did. And the demon who Envy asked at the start of dinner had mentioned a forest.
Excitement thrummed through me. When I’d visited House Envy, he’d made it a point to tell me about Bloodwood Forest. I never did piece together why he wanted me to learn about the Curse Tree fable. I was beginning to suspect he’d also been hinting at something else.
His choice of topic this evening also was no accident. Envy wanted me looking for the Seven Sisters. And I’d wager it definitely had to do with the magical objects he was after; the Temptation Key and Triple Moon Mirror. For whatever reason, he must believe I’d have a better chance at gathering the information from them. Regardless of his motives, this information played into my own quite well.
I tried to recall the map I’d seen in House Envy. I could see the forest but couldn’t remember where House Gluttony sat in relation to it.
“Where is Bloodwood Forest from here? The Prince of Envy mentioned it’s not part of any royal land, but you have to pass through a territory to get there.”
“From here?” Fauna contemplated. “The fastest route would be through Pride’s circle.”
I glanced around the long table. Wrath, Greed, Envy, Gluttony. I didn’t see Sloth but recalled what Wrath had said about him slipping in before the fear ceremony. I sipped my wine and let my gaze travel around the other side of the room. Lust smirked at me from the far end of our side of the table, crooking his finger in a mocking wave.
Ignoring him, I asked quietly, “Has the devil arrived yet?”
Conversation ceased. Hands holding utensils and glasses paused mid-mouth. I might as well have cast a spell to freeze time. Apparently asking about the devil was a taboo subject.
“For our final course,” the chef’s voice cut through the silent room, “we have a combination of fire and ice together. Crème brûlée, fired right at your seat, topped with a garnish of frozen raspberry pearls and shattered mint leaves.”
Once the chef left us to our dessert, warm fingers brushed against my wrist. I glanced up into Wrath’s face. “Dance with me tonight.”
He stood, as did the rest of the princes in attendance. Servants rushed to pull out their chairs before disappearing back into the shadows. “Where are you going?”
“It’s time for us to don our masks.”
“And shed our civility,” Gluttony teased. “See you at the masquerade.”
THIRTY
This prince of Hell certainly knew how to host an unforgettable event.
Despite what negativity the columnist would undoubtedly print about the party, it was entertaining. And spectacular. The ballroom that Fauna and I stepped into dripped decadence from every square inch. In the mortal world Gluttony’s sin was thought to be food-centered, but here, in the Seven Circles, it was pure indulgence.
Last night’s opening event was a mere glimpse into how far Gluttony could push his sin of choice. Glasses made of diamonds spilled sparkling demonberry wine over tables and trays encrusted with gemstones. More than a dozen crystal chandeliers hung from curved poles set up in even intervals around the dance floor.
Garlands of flowers with clear crystals sewn onto petals were twined around the poles. It looked as if we’d walked into a winter fairy tale. If ice was made of diamonds instead of water. When the candlelight caught the crystals and precious stones, it seemed as if the flames were caught inside ice. Gluttony’s theme carried through from our meal in a grand fashion.
“This is—”
“Look!” Fauna nearly squealed. “Over there.”
Desserts—glittered with edible gold and fashioned into lifelike fantastical beasts—stood as tall as the guests. Winged ice dragons, beautiful pastel unicorns, three-headed hellhounds. It was as intriguing as it was almost unappetizing. Masqueraders did not seem to find it off-putting, carving into the flank of a unicorn, indulging in the berry-stuffed cake that resembled blood a little too closely for my tastes. My attention drifted to a platter of chocolate-covered fruits, piled as high as the night Wrath had tested me for this sin.
I swept my
gaze around the room, searching for him and the other princes. None of them had arrived at this portion of the party yet. I glanced back at the ice dragon dessert sculpture. “Who won the hunt earlier?”
“I believe his highness did. He seemed intent to win at all costs.”
“Wrath did?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes.” She grabbed my elbow as if to keep herself from taking off. “Look over there. The rumors were true.” Fauna’s tone filled with awe. “He has tryst chambers.”
As if we were moths drawn to the flame of debauchery, we drifted closer. The infamous glass rooms lined the west side of the ballroom. Low candlelight flickered from within them, and the drapery was neatly tied back, ensuring all who passed could look their fill at the romantic displays happening in those not-so-private chambers.
Fauna clutched my arm in a viselike grip, her gaze widening behind her iridescent mask with each room and couple we strode by. The scenes were becoming more uninhibited, more daring. Thank the goddess we were masked. No matter how often I saw such public displays of sexuality, I could not stop my initial flash of embarrassment.
I felt the heat of my blush and knew my face must be close to scarlet.
Fauna was not having the same reaction; she studied the couples, as if committing certain positions to memory. If she had pulled out a notebook, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Did you see that?” Fauna’s voice held a hint of appreciation. “I had no idea so many people could fit into such a small chamber, let alone do what they were all doing and maintain their rhythm. That takes tremendous skill.”
“And stamina. That is the real feat on display.”
She giggled and swatted at my arm. “To think… these are the tamer tableaus. I’ve heard the twilight garden is much more risqué than I’d originally been told.”
Unbidden, I thought of Wrath. I tried not to let suspicion claw its way back in.
What he did, and whoever he might have seen last night, was none of my concern. I internally scolded myself. If Wrath were here he’d smirk and call me on the blatant lie.
Before I could examine my feelings further, a strange hush descended like a regiment of soldiers surrounding the masquerade. I scanned the ballroom, searching for the cause of such a reaction. My breath caught. Six imposing figures wearing wolf masks emerged from the corners of the ballroom. Tall, silent, deadly. There was something about them all standing together—their inner battles and schemes forgotten as they became a fearsome unit—that turned a prickle of unease into a fight-or-flight response. Even lords and ladies of Hell seemed ready to bolt.
Tension rolled through the crowd.
My focus landed on the biggest as he prowled forward. Even with a mask covering his face, I’d recognize that confident gait anywhere. Wrath didn’t simply walk into a room, he strode in and dominated it. And he wasn’t even trying to. Everyone else could fade away and he’d be left burning brightly. A constant source of power and vitality.
The princes slowly circled the crowd, as if herding everyone. Fauna and I shuffle-stepped along with everyone else, the space between us growing smaller with each step we took. Then, once everyone was near the dance floor, the princes turned and watched the stairs.
I dragged my attention from Wrath and waited. In a well-choreographed move, a lone prince made his way down the grand staircase, his hands tucked into his pockets, shoes shining like gemstones in the flickering candlelight. Even from across the massive space, I could hear the faint clap of his steps as the leather soles smacked the marble floor.
Fauna leaned close. “That’s the Prince of Pride.”
I watched the striking figure stroll through the crowd. Like the other princes, he wore a wolf mask that covered all but his bottom lip and chin. His was silver and gold. Ornate yet retaining elegance. He did not glance at anyone, nor did he acknowledge those who curtsied or bowed as he passed. His hair was a chestnut brown with threads of gold spun in. It was cut close on the sides and stylishly longer on top. Not a strand was out of place.
Not a crinkle to be found in his swallowtail suit.
Dressed in dark navy and silver, he did not blend into the shadows. He stood slightly apart, as if he wished for them to remember who owned them.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath, openly staring at him behind the safety of my mask, until I exhaled. The devil stood only a few feet away. A figure reviled and loathed by almost all. If the stories were true, here was a rebellious angel, cast from Heaven.
Now the king of demons. So corrupted by sin, so monstrous, that he ruled over the worst denizens of each realm. His silver gaze collided with mine, flashing like a star streaking across the sky. A chill rolled down my spine. If I hadn’t accidentally betrothed myself to Wrath, and if he hadn’t accepted the bond, I’d be staring at my husband now.
Pride scanned me from mask to toe, his head tilted to one side. I had an awful feeling he was sizing me up, debating how to best show off his skills as he took down his prey. If Wrath reminded me of a caged panther at times, Pride was a golden-maned lion.
Both princes ferocious. Both deadly. But only one could blend into the night, strike hard and fast under the cover of darkness, then slip away, undetected. I tore my attention from the devil and searched for Wrath. He’d disappeared.
“Hello, Lady Vengeance.”
The low, slightly gravelly voice was at my ear. It took all of my effort to not show surprise or tension. I hoped he didn’t sense the item I’d smuggled on my person. I slowly brought my attention to the prince at my side and offered a slight incline of my head. He was not my king. And I’d never been instructed to bow. “Your highness.”
“Would you honor me with a dance?”
Fauna sunk her teeth into her lower lip, practically dancing on the balls of her feet as she nodded vigorously in encouragement.
“I…”
“You?” He swept his attention around the room, a knowing gleam entering his eyes. The crowd surged back, as if terrified of his attention settling on them. The dance floor cleared. “Is there someone else you were hoping to dance with first? If so, let’s make him regret not asking before I did.”
“I will dance with you, but there’s no ulterior motive in it.”
“Of course.”
His amusement remained as he whisked me onto the dance floor and the orchestra immediately began playing a waltz. For a few beats, we didn’t speak. He simply whirled us around the room, my nerves over dancing in public a forgotten memory as he easily led us through the steps. He was lovely. A shining diamond encapsulated in pure platinum.
Or maybe that was what he wanted me to believe. Maybe he was really a blade. Forged in hellfire and deadly as sin. As we waltzed closer together, I waited for some spark of memory to catch and ignite hidden flames of desire. If he was the lover from my vision, my body didn’t seem to recognize him.
He leaned scandalously close. “If you’re this intrigued by my mask, wait until I take it off.”
“I assure you I am not looking at your mask, your majesty. Honestly, I’m trying to find a new set of horns or fangs.”
Pride’s eyes glittered. “I can be terrifying. When I want to be.”
“I’m sure you can, but not like someone I know.”
“Wrath?” His mouth turned down at the edges as my gaze searched the dance floor, hoping his name would be enough to summon him. “I’m unused to such beautiful dance partners thinking of my brother while in my arms.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed in the devil’s face. “You’re exceedingly conceited.”
“One of our most prominent family traits. Though I assure you my ego is well justified.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it, your highness.”
We waltzed across the floor, between other couples who’d joined us, his steps steady and smooth as he led me around and around. Even after Wrath’s impromptu lesson, I’d been worried I’d miss steps or stomp on his feet, but his skill was enough to overcome any
of my mistakes. Part of me was disappointed. If this had gone terribly, it might have been my current largest fear.
“The Prince of Wrath is quite serious compared to the rest of you.”
“That’s what he does—he excels at war and justice. Both serious matters. And it’s why none of us have to bother with the messy bits of ruling.” I drew my brows together. “This realm would have ripped itself apart if he didn’t terrify it into submission.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Pride swung us around until I could see Wrath leaning against the marble column. His mask was tugged back and his gaze followed each step, each glide around the ballroom.
He looked neither pleased nor angered, but there was something about his expression that made me think he was… jealous. Pride lowered his hand, skimming my spine, no doubt purposefully stoking Wrath’s annoyance. I stepped on his foot and internally smiled as he winced.
“He, dearest darling, is the balance. And is usually the only thing standing between us and total destruction. Wrath is impartial justice made flesh. He is feared because he does not hesitate to carry out a sentence, to mete out justice on those deserving punishment. If he must send someone to the Prison of Damnation, what mortals consider their version of ‘Hell,’ it is no light matter.”
Thus far, no one had spoken of the mortal souls sent here. “Where is that located?”
“It’s adorable you think I’d tell you. Have you asked Wrath?”
I had and I was fairly confident he’d said something about an isle off the western shore. “I was under the impression that was what your role is supposed to be.”
“Rules are more fun when they’re broken.” He lifted a shoulder. “Delegating is also part of ruling, is it not?”
Before I could answer, he swept us across the room once again, his motions fluid and graceful and commanding. Understanding he was no longer interested in speaking of power, I changed tactics. I waited until we were far enough away from other couples, then said quietly, “I know it’s private, but I wanted to offer my condolences.”
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