The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(108)

“I do enjoy killing a human with my own two hands.” Teague’s voice wrapped around the syllables with elegant rage.

Sebastian made an awful noise in the back of his throat and grabbed for Teague’s hands, trying to pry them free, but his gaze on Ari’s neckline was unwavering.

“The moment I kill you and nullify our contract, I will greatly enjoy killing your precious princess,” Teague whispered as he leaned over Sebastian, his feral eyes wild, his hair in disarray for the first time in Ari’s memory.

She cast around for a weapon, something easy to lift, and found nothing. Spilled inkpots, quills broken from the struggle, and a sea of parchment contracts scattered across the floor.

Contracts.

Holding desperately to the desk with one hand, she lifted the other and reached into her chemise.

The contract she’d taken before Teague had discovered her was still there, but this time when she pulled it out, there was a bloody fingerprint on the debtee’s side. She examined her hands and found a cut on the index finger of her right hand.

She lifted her eyes to Sebastian’s, and relief filled his face. He bucked beneath Teague, momentarily knocking the shorter man off balance, and slapped his hand against the side of the desk, shoving the top drawer open.

Teague attacked, a blur of motion that sent Sebastian flying off the desk to sprawl on the floor beside Maarit. He tried to get up, but Teague was already there, hands reaching for Sebastian’s throat.

Ari unfolded the contract with shaking fingers and scanned Sebastian’s cramped writing, while a vicious light of triumph ignited in her chest.

He’d done it. Somehow, he’d found a way to win back her soul and put her in a position to finish this.

To finish Teague.

Folding up the contract so that all that could be seen was the space reserved for the debtor’s fingerprint, Ari shoved it into her chemise and looked for a way to pierce Teague’s skin.

A blade glinted in the drawer Sebastian had opened. Ari snatched it and stumbled around the desk.

Sebastian bucked and twisted. Teague smiled and whispered something in fae as he crushed his hands around Sebastian’s neck.

Ari steadied the blade in her hand and then launched herself toward them.

Teague saw her at the last moment and swung to face her, momentarily letting go of Sebastian, but he was too late. Ari crashed into him and stabbed the dagger into his outstretched hand.

Teague snarled and yanked the dagger free. Blood poured from the wound, coating his fingers and dripping onto the floor.

“You’re going to pay for that. You’re going to pay for everything.” Teague leaped from Sebastian, who coughed—wet, hacking sounds that shook his entire body—but still struggled to his knees.

“What are you going to do?” Ari asked with as much attitude as she could muster. “Make another pipe out of my bones? Another reminder of the second human girl to betray you?”

His eyes glowed with fury, and Ari took a step back, her hands fluttering to her chest as if terrified.

Which wasn’t hard to do, because fear was a chest-crushing, breath-stealing monster living just beneath her skin.

“Taunt me again,” Teague said softly, “and see what I do to you.”

Ari’s mouth went dry, and behind Teague, Sebastian tried and failed to get to his feet.

It was time. She would either save them both or die trying.

Her trembling fingers closed around the square of parchment beneath her neckline as she said, “You’re nothing but a monster throwing a temper tantrum because a human got the best of you.”

He came for her, closing the distance between them so fast she couldn’t do anything but put her hands out as if to try to stop him as he collided with her and sent them both to the floor.

“Ari!” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse as he began crawling toward them.

“Princess Arianna,” Teague whispered, smiling his cold, awful smile. “You belong to me, now.”

She closed her hand around his bloody fingers, the contract pressed between them, and a jolt of power wrapped the parchment in brilliant strands of light.

Matching his smile with one of her own, Ari said, “No, Teague. You belong to me.”





FIFTY-ONE


ARI HELD TEAGUE’S gaze as strands of light danced over the folded-up piece of parchment lodged between their hands. He grabbed her shoulder, his fist raised.

“Stop,” she said.

His fist, already moving toward her face, jerked as if he’d plowed it into a wall. Shaking with fury, he snarled, “What have you done, you miserable little human?”

Ari climbed to her feet, contract in hand. “That’s no way to talk to your new master.”

Teague’s eyes glowed as he watched her walk past him and crouch beside Sebastian. “I have buried hundreds of your kind for lesser crimes against me, and I will bury hundreds more,” he said.

Ari wrapped her arms around Sebastian, held him through another coughing fit, and then helped him to his feet. Sebastian laced his fingers through hers, and together they turned to face Teague.

His lips peeled back in a snarl. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Then tell me,” Ari said.

Teague froze.

Ari took a step forward, Sebastian right beside her. She held Teague’s gaze and said, “Alistair Teague, tell me your birth name.”