Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain Book 3)

The Villain

Trystan knew when he became The Villain that he would always be the one to make the hard decisions, even the unpopular ones. It was a job he rather enjoyed, in all honesty, but there was one standard office practice even he vowed to never adhere to.

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Meetings.

He’d had very little need for such things in the past. The office ran well without him willingly interacting with the people who worked for him. In fact, there were days when he’d found himself speaking less than Kingsley. He used to think he preferred it, that it was the closest he’d get to contentment. But then Sage had stumbled into his arms and into his life, and now everything had changed.

Including him.

And his proclivities for avoiding human interaction.

But this had become a necessary evil. Their methods as a group these past weeks had become far too disorderly for any sort of progress, and Trystan had a sneaking suspicion that he needed all hands on deck if they were to have any measure of success going forward with any of their current problems: finding the guvre, stopping the king, restoring Rennedawn’s magic.

In the guards’ usual training quarters, a long table was placed, and Trystan watched as one by one Tatianna, Rebecka, Clare, Gushiken, and Gideon, with Keeley draped around his arm, entered the room, taking all the available seats.

All except one.

“I realize we’ve agreed to provide you sanctuary, Gideon, but that does not make you privy to this meeting.” Trystan glared at him, but Gideon merely shrugged, unbothered by the animosity.

A Sage to the core.

Keeley interjected, wincing as she sat. “I asked him to bring me, sir. He’ll go if you wish.”

Gideon raised a brow at her. “He will?”

Keeley glared, and Trystan was surprised to find himself stifling a laugh—so surprised he nearly let it loose.

Too close of a call.

“Remain if you wish.” Trystan waved a hand, too distracted by Sage coming in last, putting a smile on her face for the rest of the room that Trystan knew was not genuine; it never reached her eyes. “Sage, you’re late.”

“I was checking on my mother.” Her fake smile didn’t falter, and the sight of it aimed in his direction infuriated him. “Is that all right with you, sir.”

The title of authority had never sounded more like the word “jackass.”

Sage stepped farther into the room to reveal she’d changed out of her clothes from the morning into a green dress with sleeves that floated off her shoulders, exposing purpling fingerprints on her upper arms that either Tatianna had missed or Sage had asked her not to heal.

Either option made something pop behind his eye socket.

Questioning the intruder was going to be a treat.

The ominous turn of his thoughts had his magic floating about his feet, dancing with the possibility of Sage sitting in the chair beside him, but then she asked Blade to move down a chair and proceeded to take the seat as far away from Trystan as she could manage. The death magic drooped like a dead flower, apparently disappointed in losing the possibility of free-range wildness in her presence.

Sorry. You’re stuck with me.

He swore it punched his leg.

Evie turned to Becky, who looked concerned, and patted the HR woman’s hand in a gesture of comfort. Because the world had flipped upside down in the past two weeks, and in the mayhem the two of them had apparently become fast friends.

Blade leaned over to whisper something in Evie’s ear, and she laughed. The sound was so sweet it gave Trystan a toothache.

And a sick stomach.

That reaction at least remained consistent. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting,” he started, “so I’ll get right to the point.”

Blade frowned. “No introductions first? Isn’t that customary?”

Trystan looked at Blade with an incredulous expression. “We all know one another, Gushiken. Why in the deadlands would we need to introduce ourselves?”

Blade held his hands up in mock surrender, eyebrows shooting to his forehead. “But do we really know one another, sir?”

Trystan’s eye twitched.

Blade threw a wink at Becky, who was very clearly fighting a smile. “Isn’t that right, lovely Rebecka?”

The smile only peeked through a bit when Rebecka said flatly, “Don’t address me.”

Kingsley hopped onto the table, a sign in hand, nearly waving it in Trystan’s face.

Calm.

“I’m trying,” he bit back.

Another giggle from Sage, only this time the smile was genuine and her light-blue eyes were locked on him. He stepped back to sit and nearly missed the chair, eliciting another chuckle from Sage and a few others in the room who ceased as soon as he glared in their direction.

Clearing his throat, Trystan desperately tried to regain control of the situation. “I’ve called you all here because there are multiple issues that need to be dealt with swiftly. It’ll be easier to tackle everything we need to accomplish if we split it up among us. I trust you all to do what needs to be done.” Trystan glanced to his left. “Except you, Gideon.”

Gideon looked from side to side, waving his hands like he was denouncing the need for Trystan’s trust. “I don’t expect you to trust me, Maverine, but I can be of use to you. No one knows the Gleaming Palace the way I do, and I know you’ve been planning to send your Malevolent Guards in. I’ve seen every hidden tunnel, every blueprint; I know my way in and out. If one of the items on your to-do list is getting the female guvre back before the baby is born, then I sincerely urge you to allow my aid.”

Trystan couldn’t afford to be generous with his trust. He’d spent the last two weeks attempting to have the manor secured once more and to calm the male guvre in their hold as Trystan explored every possible plan to get his mate back, while also trying to determine the final object to fulfill the prophecy.

It was like he was juggling a million different objects.

And they were all on fire.

Keeley spoke up then, her face wan from her injury that morning. Trystan’s feeble chest twisted in what he assumed was a pang of sympathy or a heart attack. He unfortunately was fond of the employee. “The Malevolent Guards can accompany him, sir, and ensure that he leads us where we need to go. And if he doesn’t? We can handle him then, too.”

Trystan contemplated, looking to Evie for quiet counsel. She nodded at him, and that was enough. “I’ll consider it. One wrong move, Mr. Sage, and I will have Keeley dispatch you.”

Gideon smiled, shrugging. “What a way to go.”

Keeley elbowed him in the stomach, and Gideon went into a coughing fit.

Yes. Trystan was very fond of Keeley.

Ms. Erring adjusted her glasses, sneaking not-so-subtle glances at Gushiken before asking tentatively, “And what is it you want me to do, sir?”

“I need the thorn barrier assessed. If you’d be willing to call in one or two of your brothers to assist you, I believe the hedge needs to be stronger. Bigger, sturdier. I thought, since your family deals so often in powerful plants…”

Ms. Erring nodded, not needing anything more than that. “I’ll send a raven for Roland. He’s the most knowledgeable of my brothers on the subject.”

“Thank you.” He turned to Gushiken next. “Blade, I need you to find out all you can on histories of guvre younglings. And for the deadlands’ sake, please keep the one we still have in line; he ate two of my favorite interns the other morning.”

Sage didn’t allow the comment to pass before she guffawed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t have favorite interns, Evil Overlord.”

“Perhaps because they keep getting eaten,” Gideon chimed in, and Blade snorted into his hands.

Trystan was among his own workers—those with whom he’d always been intimidating and in charge—yet he was still surrounded by thankless traitors.

The life of a villain.

“If you’re done.” More authority in his tone had everyone in the room sitting up straighter. Everyone but Sage, who remained in her relaxed posture, her eyes shamelessly peering into his. Trystan took a swig of the water in front of him.

And then choked on said water like he was trying to swallow flour.

Wiping his mouth and feeling weary to the bone, he said, “I have reason to believe that one of the stained glass windows in the manor may contain the fourth object in the prophecy.”

Sage’s eyes widened. Trystan continued addressing the room, but his gaze did not leave hers.

It couldn’t.

“With the recent break and the distinct possibility Benedict has an informant inside the office, I fear this is not the last attempt at sabotage. Keep this information to yourselves. Tell no one.” He planted a hand on the table, leaning forward, still looking right at her. “As for the stained glass windows, we’ll begin taking them apart for clues and attempting to put them back together as they were before I had them altered. It’s the closest we’ve come to completing the prophecy.”

Gideon opened his mouth, and Sage speared him with a glare. “Do not suggest going to retrieve it, Gideon, or I will talk in detail about your awkward phase.”

“Is he not still in it?” Keeley deadpanned.

Gideon glared at every person who laughed, so…everyone in the room. All except Trystan, who was seconds away from losing his temper.

Blade shifted in his seat, bumping into one of Sage’s bruised arms in the process. She winced.

Minuscule seconds.

Clearing his throat, Trystan continued. “The words may only be visible in the sunlight, but banishing the workers during the day without suspicion is not an option. Be discreet and be cautious. You never know who’s watching.”

There was a collective shiver, and Trystan bent his head to hide his smirk.

I’ve still got it.

They all left slowly, like Trystan had sucked the spirits from their bodies.

The mark of a successful meeting.

“Sir?” Sage asked, the only one remaining aside from Kingsley, who was staring off in the other direction like he’d caught sight of a fly. “The man in the dungeons. I want to question him with you.”

Near the man who caused you physical harm? No, I’m afraid I prefer to decapitate in private.

Trystan was no longer trying to test her; she was his apprentice, and he was The Villain. And a professional at that. Still, he couldn’t stop his cold denial. “Not this time, Sage. You are still recovering from your injuries. I’ll allow you to participate in the next interrogation.”

He stood from his chair and was busying himself with straightening his shirt when Sage said quietly, “He’s Otto Warsen’s son.”

Trystan’s head snapped up. “He’s… You’re sure?”

She nodded, biting at her lower lip, something fragile about her as she recounted, “He hinted at it, and…I could tell. They have the same smile, the same voice, and then I remembered Otto mentioning family working in the capital. He has no reason to lie.”

Trystan was not a hero. He was not a valiant knight or anyone’s savior; he was evil, and he would reclaim that title twenty times over if it meant destroying anyone who put that haunted look on Sage’s lovely face.

“Very well. You may join me in the dungeons at the day’s end when the workers have been dismissed, but only to observe. You are not to ask any questions. Consider it part of your apprenticeship.”

Sage nodded, her hand going to rub at the back of her shoulder, where Trystan knew her scar lived. “Thank you, sir. That’s very generous.”

“If you want to thank me, don’t ever use that vile word again.”

She tilted her head. “Generous?”

He answered dryly. “Absolutely disgusting.”

One side of her mouth tipped up as she grabbed her journal from the table and made her way for the door. “I’ll see you at the day’s end, Your Evilness.”

The door shut tightly behind her.

And Trystan stood there staring down at his friend Kingsley with a sigh. “What now, old friend? A quick round of chess before we get to work?”

Kingsley stared blankly at him, but it was more absent than the amphibian’s normal expressions. Almost…unaware.

“Kingsley?” Nothing. Trystan’s call became more frantic, his heart picking up speed. “Alexander?” He hadn’t really used the prince’s name in years, but he was desperate, and it worked. It seemed to shake Kingsley back to himself.noveldrama

He held up a sign. Here. But his gold eyes were wide, and the writing was shakier than usual.

Trystan smiled down at his friend and turned to get back to his office. But as he walked, he realized why that moment had been so strange to him. Kingsley had not looked like the frog prince he’d been for the last ten years. It was almost as if Kingsley had just been…

An ordinary frog.