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

Evie

“He’s not cursed,” Evie hissed. “What a terrible thing to say.”

“Sage…” The Villain tried to silence her, but she was seething and tired of this man messing with them.

“No.” She looked at him, feeling frantic. “You can’t be cursed.” It didn’t make sense. When he’d kissed Evie’s hand after she ate the sleeping-death fruit, he’d broken the magic; he’d awoken her. They’d kissed multiple times since then—if he was truly cursed and her theory about true love was correct, her kiss should’ve broken it.

Unless he’s your true love…but you’re not his.

Ouch.

Before her emotions could get the better of her, she pretended she was somewhere else. Or someone else. Someone less feeling, someone whose emotions weren’t so potent she sometimes couldn’t breathe.

Lionel looked unfazed as he plucked a blade of grass and squeezed it between his fingers. “I’m afraid it’s true. It’s different from any curse I’ve ever sensed. Doesn’t seem to be enchantress-born.” He hovered a hand near Trystan’s head, and The Villain slapped the consultant’s hand away. Lionel merely laughed. “Yes. All curses have an unnaturalness to them, but this is different. This isn’t just unnatural. It’s unbalanced. You’re unbalanced.”

Tatianna muttered, “We already knew that.”

Evie couldn’t laugh. She still felt like she was choking.

Lionel angled his head at Kingsley, who had been sitting quietly the last few moments. “Now, onto your froggy friend. Hmm?”

He picked up the frog and began his inspection, but Evie was overwrought, and no amount of self-talk could get her feelings under control. She needed privacy; she needed a moment, just one clear breath.

Tears burned behind her eyes, and she couldn’t bear for anyone to see them. “You can brief me when you’re done. I need some air.”

No one stopped her as she turned on her heel and walked toward where they’d left their horses. Everyone in the group had the good grace to not point out that one didn’t typically need air when they were already outside.

She kept walking until she was hidden behind a tree, sniffling and furious at the tears spilling down her cheeks. The branches swayed above her in the gentle breeze, and her dagger tingled against her thigh. She rubbed her knuckles against her leg, trying to rid herself of the feeling, wondering when the last time she’d felt this heartbroken was. A fallen leaf slowly floated down, landing softly on her shoulder.

Think of me when you’re with the trees.

The reminder of the cloud creature was everywhere, all around, in every bit of bark and every branch, and it hurt. It all hurt. This was the price of feeling too deeply. Evie knew she was capable of the wildest, most uninhibited joy…but her pain was just as great.

Pain was something she hid, twisting herself into knots, trying to clear more space for the people she cared for.

And she had only herself to blame for it. This was who she was. It was far too late to change.

Slouching, she bent to put her hands on her knees, taking a large inhale, and then her breath stopped. Because galloping a mere thirty feet away, through an array of trees, was Benedict and a handful of Valiant Guards, riding right for the clearing.

And right for her friends.

Evie bolted, running for the people she loved at a full sprint, reaching them while heaving unsteady breaths. “Benedict.” She wheezed, clutching her middle. “He’s coming!”

Trystan’s hand found her shoulder, and his magic did, too.

“You bastard,” Lionel boomed. “You led the king here?”

“We’re both wanted for crimes against the crown, Lionel,” Trystan bit out, furious. “Why would we ever do something like that?”

“I don’t know, nor do I care. Rennedawn’s magic is fading into the earth, and it seems to strike a piece of land hardest when Benedict’s around. I want you all gone. NOW!”

“C’mon,” Trystan yelled, spinning Sage, then shoving at his sister and Tatianna. “Quickly!”

They ran for the horses, mounting with haste, and when the yelling began behind them, they rode as fast and far as they could. Evie was still not a gifted rider by any stretch of the imagination, but she was a little proud of herself for keeping her seat even when her steed began leaping and bounding over fallen logs and debris.

Together, they rode without speaking for nearly an hour, until eventually they felt safe enough to slow to a trot. The threat was behind them, and Evie’s heart could finally rest its relentless pace.

“Evie, dear, are you all right?” Tatianna’s worried frown made her feel stripped raw.

The smile Evie gave was bright and practiced. “I’m fine. Just a little winded. Are you?”

Tatianna leaned over her horse, putting an arm around Evie. “Would you believe this wasn’t my worst workday? I’m okay. We’ll catch you up on what Lionel told us.”

Evie smiled again.

“Sage?” The Villain’s gravelly voice queried. His hand closed around her upper arm, and she blanched at how the touch burned. “Ride ahead, you two. A few of the Malevolent Guards are waiting just up the path.”

Tatianna and Clare nodded, as did Kingsley on Clare’s shoulder, and as the three of them rode on, each nearly broke their neck to keep glancing behind them.

He gave them a glare so fearsome all three spun around at once. Evie, however, merely poked him in the cheek. “Stop doing that with your mouth. It looks odd.”

“What happened? Why are you so upset?” he asked abruptly.

She fumbled to steady herself, nearly losing her seat. When she was sure she wasn’t going to slam into the earth, she said, “I was just surprised. I…I’m not upset. I am worried for you, of course, and I hope whatever curse you’re suffering from is a mild one. Although I’m not sure how you didn’t know you were cursed in the first place or what a mild curse would be. Like, a head cold, maybe? Kingsley’s would probably be likened to the Mystic Illness.”

The sun was beginning its descent, the pinks and oranges mixing against the white clouds visible through the trees overhead. She’d always liked the sunset, but not in this moment.

“You’re lying. That smile is fake.”

Riding ahead of him, she scoffed. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe you to be an expert judge on that subject, Sir-Frowns-A-Lot.”

He grabbed her arm again, and the intensity of his stare, of the seriousness… The tears nearly came again. “It’s. Fake.”

This time, the smile on her face was real, but she could feel it stained by sadness. “So what?”

He blinked at her. “So what? What do you mean, so what?”

“Who cares if it’s fake?” She attempted to urge her horse away again. But he tugged her back once more, and her horse seemed more loyal to him, as the beast refused to budge an inch. This time, it wasn’t sadness driving her; it was frustration.

“I care, you urchin,” he bit out. “Stop faking it for other people. No one is asking you to. What is wrong?”noveldrama

“Stop pushing me!” she yelled, leaping from the horse and stalking into the trees, her temper a long and now broken cord. “I don’t have to tell you anything. You insisted on this distance. You are the one who has been pushing me away! Stop trying to have it both ways.”

“That wasn’t for me!” Branches cracked with each step as he swung off his stallion and followed her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “You think this is the choice I wanted to make? I can’t protect you if my magic isn’t cooperating when we get too close. I can’t lose—”

“To Benedict. I know,” she snapped, shaking off his hand.

“You!” He spun her around, grabbing her face, and bent, pressing his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply as if to breathe her in. He whispered, “I can’t lose you. I will not survive it.”

Her hands drifted up to wrap around his wrists, and the mere brush of their skin made her burn.

His lips drifted closer to hers. “My magic is hardly the whole of it, even if it’s cursed,” he added.

This made her reel back, but he couldn’t seem to stop touching her yet. His hands found purchase on her upper arms.

“What is the curse?” she asked.

His throat bobbed, and a cool breeze made her shiver. “Lionel thinks someone placed a curse on my magic. He thinks before my magic was awoken, someone tampered with it. So, when it was triggered in the cell all those years ago, it wasn’t working the way it should.”

It didn’t make sense. Nothing was adding up.

“Sir, what are you saying?”

“My magic has been under a curse for more than ten years.”

She swallowed.

“And I think Benedict is the one who cast it.”