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

The Villain

“Knocking” had been an understatement.

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The king and his Valiant Guard were using a catapult to launch large stones past the thorny grove and into the manor’s front entrance. Trystan had a catapult of his own, and if one more person screamed, he was going to start launching the rest of the finance department.

He might do it anyway just for some amusement.

Another stone flew, and then another. “Launch!” Trystan shouted, sweeping his arm down as a pair of Malevolent Guards pulled the lever and let Trystan’s favorite weapons oddity fly. Detonating pumpkins—imbued with the same dark gardening magic that had made the formidable thorny grove. Innocuous, until the tip of the pumpkin was lifted; then it became a rather efficient bomb.

The pumpkins smashed into the flying rocks, creating a flash of red-and-yellow sparks that rivaled fireworks.

“Keeley!” he yelled, sweeping out the office side doors onto the parapet overlooking the front of the manor. The captain of his guard was leveling her gaze outward, assessing. “Launch ten more!”

“We only have three left!”

Trystan’s head whipped around. “That cannot be! We were just given ten barrels of them. What happened to the rest?”

Keeley held up a hand, an undetonated pumpkin in the other, not tearing her golden gaze from what was ahead. “I don’t know! I went down to fetch them, and they were gone.”

He shook his head, frustrated that he didn’t have time to investigate. “How many knights?” Peering over the edge, he lifted his spyglass to see farther. The king sat atop his horse, his fur cape draped around him in regal waves, his crown gleaming so brightly in the sun Trystan had to squint. By his count there were only…six Valiant Guards. “Are the rest hiding beyond the trees?”

Keeley shook her head, her thick braid moving with her. “No, sir. We sent out ravens, even some of the pixies. This is all he brought along.”

“It has to be a trap.” Sage’s voice at his side made him jolt. He glared down angrily at her dark curls. “What?” she asked, her nose scrunching in a way that forced his fool heart to do flip-flops.

“I told you to stay put, little tornado,” he gritted out, though he was unsurprised, of course, that Sage hadn’t obeyed orders.

She leaned over the parapet, using her hand to shade her eyes against the sun. “I’m The Villain’s apprentice. If I’m to learn my trade, I need to observe you in action, Evil Overlord.” It was a reasonable assessment—which pissed him off.

And strangely made his insides warm. Which…pissed him off more.

Another rock came soaring, and Trystan wrapped both hands around Sage’s arms and bodily lifted her away from the edge. The entire manor rattled with the impact. Sage squealed until her feet met the ground again.

“Villain! Do we have your attention?” Benedict’s words echoed, a magical speaking trumpet carrying his voice over the distance. “Or shall we continue?”

Damn it. “Sage, I need my—” But his own magical speaking trumpet was already in his hands, and Sage’s self-satisfied smile made him want to kiss her senseless. Or run as far away from her as he could. He coughed, not looking at her any longer. “Thank you.”

Her light hum told him that she didn’t require his thanks. She knew he needed her, and that seemed to be enough.

Evie Sage is meant to be your downfall, and you her undoing.

He shook away the tainted future he had to prevent and focused in on the one thing in the world that had never failed him. Villainy. “Is the alternative to your attack having a conversation with you, Benedict?” Trystan called dryly. “Because in that case, the rocks are preferable.”

A few of the knights shuffled nervously at the king’s side, waiting for a reaction from the man with so little tether. But the king wasn’t angry; instead, he began one of Trystan’s least favorite pastimes.

The son of a bitch laughed.

“A wonder you can jest under the circumstances, my boy.”

Trystan’s magic stirred beneath his skin, and when Sage brushed against his arm, it was no longer at his side. It swept out so far and fast it swiped one of the knights at the catapult, leaving a black spot shining. The kill spot.

The man dropped dead as soon as his magic struck true.

Trystan let out a ragged sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Killing by accident was a terrible thing. It was far more gratifying when done on purpose. “Humorous enough for you, Benedict?” he called.

Benedict blinked at his fallen man with the same interest Trystan gave a speck of dust floating through the air. “Now, now. Let us not argue. I’ve come to strike a deal.”

“No.”

Sage went to reach for Trystan, and he lurched away from her. If she touched him one more time, the whole parapet was going to collapse beneath their feet. Her eyes went downcast, but there was a resolve in the set of her shoulders. “I think you should ask what it is first.”

Trystan scoffed. “In the mood for negotiations, are you?”

“No. I just think it’s better to know things than to bury your head in the sand. But you’re the boss,” she said with a smile so fake he wanted to pull his hair out.

Tatianna glided onto the parapet with a cursory glance at the group of them. “Fluffy won’t be of any assistance in the fire-breathing department, I’m afraid.”noveldrama

“Why?” Sage asked, a note of worry in the word.

“Blade said he has a cold.”

Lyssa trailed out from behind her. “He’s sneezing little poofs of smoke!”

Sage swept past him until she was turning Lyssa around by the shoulders. “Back inside now.” She paused. “And stay away from the front door—and the windows, for that matter. I wouldn’t trust their ability to continue aiming at the same target without missing. No glass. No doors. Go.”

“But Tatianna said you were doing villain things!” Lyssa dipped under Evie’s arms and ran for Trystan. “I have to observe!”

Sage let out a small growl and stomped her boot. “Lyssa, that is absurd. Go inside. Now!”

Trystan whistled low. “Didn’t you just say the same thing, Sage?”

Sage planted her hands on her hips, betrayal gleaming in her eyes. “Shall I test my villainy on you?”

“If it’ll end this faster, have at it.”

Lyssa laughed, and Trystan’s mouth twitched. Until another crash shook the manor, causing everyone to fall against the stone ground. Except Trystan.

“Forgotten about me?” Benedict’s voice carried to them on the wind.

“For the love of the gods,” Trystan yelled, lifting the speaking trumpet back to his mouth. “What deal do you want to make, Benedict? Out with it!”

Even without the looking glass, Trystan could see the king’s smile stretching wide, sinister in a way Trystan had never fully mastered. It was an irony he had no trouble acknowledging that the purest forms of evil seemed to be buried inside a man so desperate to reach ultimate power and all those who would ignore his wrongdoings to keep him there.

“I’ll tell you the entirety of Rennedawn’s prophecy. Here and now.”

No. Too easy. “And in exchange?” Trystan drawled.

King Benedict’s greedy gaze fell upon Sage and Lyssa, who’d made their ways to his side. Trystan contemplated ripping the king’s eyes out, but then the king said something that caused a riotous silence on the raised platform.

“I want Nura Sage.”