Bastien strolled around the table, caressing each ring with a tip of his finger as he went. He paused when he reached the bowl that had held Julie’s. “I will be needing that back.”
Mallory squeezed the ring tighter in her fist, delighting in how the stone cut into her skin. It was a small rebellion, but one she would hold on to for as long as she could. “You’ll have to take it from me.”
His chuckles turned boisterous. “Yes. That is the plan. Except… you were right.” He reached for the sword on the table, but his hand passed right through it. “A Savoy is within my grasp, but without a mortal body to act for me, what can I do?” He clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “But I am patient, and sooner or later, your sister will have to set Armand free. Unless you intend to kill him, you will not be able to keep me away forever.”
She choked back the bile in her throat, wishing she could do more than glare at him.
“Unless,” he said, drawing out the word in a quiet hiss, “you are willing to bargain with me.”
“I’m not,” she said through her teeth.
“Do not be hasty. You have not heard my terms.”
She snarled. Beside her, Julie shuddered.
“Sacrifice yourself,” he said, his tone so light that he mighthave been asking her to put on a kettle for tea, “and I will have no need to claim your sister.”
“What’s going on?” said Fitcher. “What is he saying?”
“He wants me to sacrifice myself,” she said. “To save Anaïs.”
Fitcher snarled. “Don’t listen to him. He can’t be trusted.”
“I know that,” Mallory snapped. Even though… she was considering the deal. Weighing her choices, of which there weren’t many.
It was true that Anaïs could not keep Armand tied up forever. When she freed him, Bastien could so easily slip back into Armand’s body. Could so easily catch Anaïs off her guard.
Either way, he would have his fifth sacrifice.
But if Mallory took her own life, this still wouldn’t be over. Bastien required the fifth ring, even now on Anaïs’s finger back in the chapel.
Which meant that the spell wouldn’t be completed yet. There would still be time for the others to stop him.
“You’re doing all this, for what?” she said, stalling for time. “A little bit of immortality? So you can rule over a crumbling wine empire again?”
Bastien cocked his head, evidently entertained by the question. “My descendants have not been as ruthless as I was, and Armand in particular has been a great disappointment. But once I am alive again, I will reclaim our standing. Soon, Ruby Comorre will again be the most desirable wine in Lysraux.” He smirked at Mallory’s skeptical expression. “You did not think it was an accident—did you?—when the competition disappeared, leaving only Saphir estates to provide the world with its favorite vice.”
Mallory frowned. Saphir wines had always been highly coveted—for generations, the only terroir that could grow their particular grapevine. In Bastien’s time, their vineyards alone had survived, unscathed by drought, blight, and fire that had ravaged other crops.
“You were sabotaging them,” she said.
“What is the point of being a sorcerer,” he said, almost jokingly, “if you cannot destroy your enemies? Of course, none of this makes any difference to you. You will be dead. But your sister will be free to go.”
Mallory ground her teeth until her jaw ached. “What would I have to do?”
“Mallory, no!” shouted Constantino. “You can’t.”
Bastien raised an eyebrow at Mallory. “A sword driven through your heart. Very simple.”
“And you promise to leave Anaïs alone?”
“You have my word. I will not require her death, only the ring. Once Armand is within my control again, that will be easily obtained.”
She shuddered to think of him possessing Armand, stealing Anaïs’s ring off her finger—knowing her sister would not give it up easily. She thought of the wives’ dismembered fingers, which Bastien had cut from their bodies after their deaths.
But she could not escape. Could not run. Could not kill him.
With a shudder, Mallory stepped toward the table. Gripping Julie’s ring in one hand, she unsheathed the sword with the other.
