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

Gideonnoveldrama

Gideon Sage had awoken that morning with a raging headache and a sickly feeling that his day would somehow only worsen as it went on.

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As it happened—though not often, of course—Gideon was correct.

“Gods damn it!” Gideon cried, sprinting into the office space at full speed, watching in horror as the beam of light—the same one that had once knocked him into a different identity—barreled for the window, right toward his youngest sister. The next few moments happened in the time it took for a heart to beat or a bead of sweat to form at his brow. “Lyssa!”

Gideon lurched for her, projecting his shielding magic—magic that had saved him from perishing due to his mother’s starlight the first time. But it was too late. The beam would hit Lyssa. Gideon and his magic were too far away. They were all too far away. All except…

Keeley. The head of The Villain’s guard, the woman who Gideon had spent the better part of their acquaintance detesting, dove in front of Lyssa without a moment’s pause, taking the beam of starlight at her back with a gut-wrenching scream.

Though it was Gideon’s ears that were ringing, he oddly felt that scream burrow both deep into his chest and down into his gut. The light faded just as fast as it had shined, desks and plants throughout the room singed from the blast.

Evie burst through the side doors, already to Lyssa, throwing her arms over their crying little sister. “It’s okay. You’re all right. You’re safe. I’m here,” Evie soothed as Lyssa buried her head in Evie’s shoulder, crying. Thankfully, Lyssa couldn’t see the horror in Evie’s own eyes as she stared at Gideon.

“Keeley. Is she dead?” Lyssa sobbed, and Gideon’s pulse raced, the room suddenly suffocating despite the shattered window and the fresh air spilling in.

He knew it wasn’t poisoned. But every breath sickened him just the same.

Keeley lay flat on the ground, her ravaged back exposed, and Gideon was kneeling beside her before another breath could be taken. The pleading look on Keeley’s face as her golden eyes searched his would be seared in his memory forever. To his great relief, Tatianna appeared next to him.

The healer’s pink-painted lips pulled up in a rather sad smile as her hands glowed over Keeley’s back, hovering but not touching. “It could have been worse. That blast should’ve killed you.”

Gideon’s brow was furrowed, his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his shoes. “I’m sure she’s sorry to disappoint. Keeley is usually so very good at following a chain of command, aren’t you, Captain?”

Keeley sputtered a laugh, and Gideon felt as if he could fly, or end a war, or something as monumental as the sound made him feel. “Very—” The captain stopped to cough. “Very funny, sir knight.”

Tatianna brushed a gentle hand against Gideon’s arm, her dark eyes boring into his. “Could you carry her to my quarters, Gideon? And avoid touching her back if you can manage it.”

Gideon nodded, bending toward Keeley. “As much as you’ll hate this, Captain, do you think you can manage to put your arms around my neck?”

Keeley attempted to sit up but nearly fell, and would have if not for Gideon’s quick reactions. He gripped her elbows, guiding her long, lithe limbs around his neck, then reached for her legs, looking at her for silent permission. She nodded, and Gideon took hold of each of her thighs, bending his knees to stand, her arms folded around him, her lemon-scented skin making him unpleasantly dizzy.

“Don’t drop me, sir knight,” she whispered in his ear, causing goose bumps to rise across his skin.

Gideon tightened his arms, only enough to strengthen his hold, ensuring she could fully relax against him. All the pretense of his ire toward the woman had disappeared, perhaps forever. She’d saved his sister. Her first instinct was to throw herself right into the danger to protect a little girl. It made Gideon wonder if anyone had ever done that for Keeley. It nearly made him volunteer right there.

“I’ll do my best, Captain,” Gideon replied unsteadily, giving Evie a gentle nod before turning to follow Tatianna.

Nura Sage appeared from the parapet, glassy eyes wide in horror. “My gods. My gods, I’m so sorry. Is she all right?” A faint white-silver glow still remained around their mother, as if it was weakened, slowly fading little by little.

Before Gideon could take another step, carrying the woman in his arms like fine porcelain, he watched Trystan step toward Nura, a hard look of resolve on his face. “Worry not, Mistress Sage. It was entirely my fault. My magic is waning and unruly; it should never have made it that close to you.” He was blank when he continued. “Your reaction was only natural. It’s best for all to keep their distance from me until the prophecy is broken and the magical order to Rennedawn is restored. Especially you, Sage. If I give an order to leave, I expect you to heed it when your safety and that of others is in jeopardy.”

Gideon sighed.

Evie looked wounded, naturally; Trystan Maverine looked a bit like someone about to have a tooth pulled. She tugged Lyssa farther into her neck, gently standing them up. “I’ll leave, then. I’d hate to disappoint you. I’m rather familiar with the emotion.”

Gideon couldn’t be sure, but he felt as though something unsaid passed between Evie and Trystan Maverine in that moment. Something that made Evie glare at the man with a charge that nearly shook the room more than the starlight.

Gideon hadn’t revealed his suspicions about where the prophecy could be headed or who he thought would play each role. It was a silly, senseless theory. But as Gideon Sage turned his head to check on his sisters one last time, the look in Evie’s eyes made him fear many things.

The greatest of them being…

What if he was right?