The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(40)

It was the perfect setting for an object lesson in what happened to those who defied him.

He took a puff of his pipe, turned it upside down, and gently tapped the bowl to discard the remaining tobacco. Then he pocketed the pipe and strode across the street.

The shop’s door creaked and a tiny bell rang as Teague stepped into the room. The place smelled of dried herbs, wild roots, and sharp spices. The shopkeeper was bent over an open jar of candied ginger with a pair of tongs in one hand and a small burlap sack in the other.

This man—this plain, unassuming man—had spent time alone with the princess and her friend. According to the employees who’d been visiting this shop to collect Teague’s weekly protection fee, he’d told Arianna and Cleo not to let anyone know they’d visited his shop, which meant he’d done something he didn’t want Teague to know about.

Teague was going to enjoy prying the secret out of him.

The shopkeeper finished bagging the candied ginger. Handing it to the woman who’d ordered it, he reached for her coin and his eyes met Teague’s.

The coins clattered to the floor as the shopkeeper dropped his hand and took a step back.

Teague smiled.

“Going somewhere, Edwin?” he asked.

The man shook his head, though his eyes darted toward the shop’s back exit.

Teague’s smile grew sharp. “Oh, do try to run from me. I enjoy chasing down my prey.”

Edwin swallowed hard, and sweat beaded his brow. “I’m not . . . What are you doing here?”

The two customers closest to the front door tried to brush past Teague and leave. He glanced at the door and said, “Glas.”

The door refused to open, no matter how hard the men pulled on the handle. The rest of the customers stared at him in wide-eyed fear. So easy to terrify humans. A simple bit of magic, a command any fae worth their weight could accomplish, and everyone in the room was transfixed.

And he was just getting started.

Walking toward Edwin, Teague said, “You know why I’m here.”

The shopkeeper shook his head vehemently. “I paid! I paid my fee on time!”

Teague’s eyes narrowed. “You met with the princess.”

Edwin shrugged as if that fact meant nothing, but his voice shook. “She shops here often.”

Teague stopped five paces from the man. The other customers backed away, pressing against the front window or the racks of spices that lined the far wall.

“If the princess shops here often, and her visit wasn’t unusual, then why tell her to keep it a secret?” Teague ran a finger over a shelf of delicate amber jars with blue wax seals for stoppers.

“I didn’t.” Edwin glanced around the room as if looking for help. “There were collectors. She didn’t know about them, and they didn’t know about her. I wanted her away from here while that was going on. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

“I’m confused.” Teague stepped closer, and the smell of the man’s fear sweat hit his nose. “You didn’t tell her to keep it a secret? Or you did because you thought it would keep her safe from my collectors? Which is it?”

“I . . . it was just to keep her safe.”

“Yet you were in the act of making her leave your shop and go back out to the street. The street that was full of my employees, some of whom, I will admit, are a bit enthusiastic when it comes to taking unprotected members of the noble class into custody.” Teague raised a brow and waited for Edwin’s response.

The man swallowed and twisted his hands in the apron he wore at his waist. “She was going out the back way where it was safer—”

“You sent her out the back of the shop, on collection day, while her guards were standing at the front, unaware of her location, and begged her not to tell anyone she’d visited you. Is this correct?” Teague’s voice was dangerously calm.

Edwin remained silent, his expression miserable.

Teague lunged forward and shoved the man against the wall. His voice was a clap of thunder that shook the shelves and sent the jars of spices careening against one another. “You will answer me!”

“Yes!” Edwin raised trembling hands as if begging for mercy, but Teague wasn’t interested. He’d shown mercy to a human once, and look what it had cost him.

Mercy was for the weak. For the fools too ignorant to know they were being exploited.

Mercy was for those who didn’t have the stomach to destroy their foes.

Leaning close, Teague said softly, “Tell me why the princess was here.”

“She bought spices.” Edwin’s words were rushed. “I swear it. She bought spices.”

“Which spices?”

“Monkshood, basil, and cinnamon.” The man’s eyes darted toward the back door and then fixed on Teague again.

He was hiding something.

“And what else?”

Edwin frowned. “That’s all.”

“She didn’t ask questions about me?”

Edwin hesitated a split second before saying, “No.”

Teague smiled, slow and terrible. “Liar.”

“I promise, she only bought spices. That’s all—”

Teague wrapped his hand around Edwin’s throat and throttled him until he choked on his words and gurgled for air, his hands beating ineffectually at Teague. When Teague released him, Edwin slid down the wall, gasping.