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

Once upon a time…

Evie Sage’s first month working for The Villain had been rather unconventional, though at least not cataclysmically shocking. A spilled cauldron brew here, a poisoned intern there. But there had been a few strange…incidents. The most recent being her summoned into work two hours early for a meeting she was almost certain could’ve been a short message sent through the ravens.

Find better things to complain about, Evie! Like the hand you found in the reuse bin last week!

Although that had at least given her the opportunity to ask the boss if he needed an extra set of hands. The frank horror on his face had caused her to laugh so hard, she nearly made herself sick.

It was mildly disconcerting that he was more offended by her harmless jokes than the foreign limb he’d lobbed in with the discarded parchment—Becky hated when they mixed anything in with parchment recycling—but she digressed.

Sighing and wiping the sleep from her eyes, she watched as the invisible barrier around Massacre Manor wavered underneath her fingers. Her attention flickered to the rising sun leaking color into the still-darkened sky. It looked as though someone had spilled orange and pink inks onto a dark-gray tapestry—pretty, if anything could be so before eight in the morning.

Marv, the Malevolent Guard at the front gate, gave her a gentle wave, and she smiled brightly at him, blowing a kiss that pinked his cheeks. “Good morning, Ms. Sage! Early bird gets the worm?” His normally wild hair was contained underneath a red leather helmet while Evie’s was plaited to the side, a few loose hairs pulling free around her face as they swayed in the early-morning breeze.

She stepped back as the large wooden door slid open with a familiar creaking, the damp chill of the entrance hall cooling her cheeks and filling her senses with the smell of wood burning and musty walls. “More like the early bird doesn’t get fired…and knowing the boss, that would be literal, I’m afraid.”

Marv’s chortle sounded behind her as her heels clicked on the stone floor, the torchlight brightening the room and warming it against the morning air. A low groaning echoed from the other end of the large, open space, near the only corner that was shrouded in darkness.

Her brow furrowed as she waved a hand forward. “Hello? Whatever creepy sound you’re trying to make, can you kindly do it under the torchlight so I can see you? That way I can scream properly.”

“Sage?” The rasp of The Villain’s voice caused a tingle of sensation to move down her spine. “You shouldn’t be here,” he grunted out, his dark shape inching toward the edge of the shadows that cloaked him.

She huffed and quirked a brow, folding her arms and pushing her thick braid behind her shoulder. “On that, we agree. I should still be in bed, curled up with my favorite nighttime companion.”

She thought she heard him choke. “Companion?” There was an odd sound of warning in the word that made her shiver just slightly.

“Yes.” She crossed her arms. “His name is Mr. Muffins.”

“Mr. Muffins?” She could see his shadow inching closer to the light, his voice gruff and laced with confusion. “You’re laying with a man called Mr. Muffins? Who in the deadlands is named something so ridiculous?”

She bit her lip to keep from smiling at his obvious outrage. “A teddy bear I’ve had since I was six.”

There was a long silence before a flat word broke it. “Oh.”

She snorted and walked closer, as did he, finally washing himself in the light of the torches and the colors seeping into the room from the rising sun. She halted a few feet from him, eyes widening when she saw his face, words falling off her tongue before she could think better of them. “Wow, you look…terrible.”

The cobwebbed logical part of her brain sighed and rolled over so it wouldn’t have to witness what came next.

The boss’s normally tailored stubble was overgrown into a near beard, his shirt untucked, his hair mussed, and his normally pressed pants wrinkled beyond reason. “I beg you not to shower me with compliments, Sage. I hardly know what to do with them.”

Worry wove itself into the bottom of her stomach. Even his dry commentary seemed off, almost guarded. Clearing her throat, she stepped closer to take in the rest of him. Purple under his eyes, flexed fingers, tensed jaw, pulsing vein in his forehead.

She frowned and tsked. “Did one of the interns say good morning to you again? I told them pleasant greetings were strictly prohibited.”

He shut his eyes for a moment and flattened his mouth into a firm line, like if he pressed hard enough, he could crush whatever emotion was about to show itself on his lips. “As much as I enjoy blaming others for my mistakes, I’m afraid there is no one to blame for my unkempt appearance but myself.” His dark eyes roved over her soft orange day dress, the distaste at her color choice obvious in the tightening of his fists at his sides. “And you, I suppose. For having the gall to witness it.”

The door suddenly slammed closed behind them, and Evie jolted, clasping a hand to her chest and her racing heart. “I hardly think it’s fair to blame me for anything, when you were the one who requested me here so early in the first place.”

He frowned deeper—if that was even possible—which made him look even more beautiful—

If that was even possible.

Annoyed and tired, she lost her patience at waiting for him to catch up to her. “You sent a raven…”

When he stared blankly at her, she continued to bumble out words, her mouth eager to get every thought out of her head to make room for the new ones. “It showed up at my window at four in the morning and scared the living daylights out of me. With a note saying we had an early-morning meeting about something urgent?”

A low hum sounded from his closed lips. It cleared any remaining tiredness from her system, like cauldron brew but better, warmer. “I don’t recall writing or sending… My restraint is at a low this morning, Sage, and apparently my memory as well. I must have written it before I was fully lucid. Please disregard the raven.”

Clanging metal sounded from the back courtyard—likely the Malevolent Guards getting in some morning exercise with their lethal weapons. Fitting, as she was now imagining grabbing something sharp and stabbing her boss in the toe. “Disregard? You couldn’t have disregarded before your damn bird cut two and a half years off my life?”

“That’s an alarmingly specific number,” he said, planting his hands against his tapered waist.

“It was alarming for me, too,” she deadpanned, snickering as he glared.

“I keep a tight rein on my magic, and I think sometimes when I sleep, when my body relaxes, it stirs uncomfortably and makes it difficult for me to continue resting.”

A pang in her chest she identified as sympathy made her anger dissolve like shadows in the sunlight. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there any way I can help?”

His jaw went slack. “Help…with my death magic? The magic that sends most people running and screaming?”

She blinked innocently. “I can do that after I help if it’ll make you feel better.”

His incredulous expression could so easily morph into a laugh, if she just pushed him a little further…

But of course, as Evie’s calling card, disaster had to strike first.

Doubling over suddenly, The Villain breathed heavily into his knees. “Damn it all. My hands burn, and my arm…” He reached up to grip his arm, circling his biceps.

Her hand fell lightly atop his, trying for gentleness with a man she was certain was scarcely used to it. And sure enough, his response was violent and startled. So startled that he jerked away like she’d laid an open flame to his skin. “Sage, are you mad? I’m dangerous right now.”

“I know,” she said softly. “You haven’t had your cauldron brew yet.”

“You are not amusing,” he wheezed.

Evie inched closer, angling her body down just a bit to meet his face. “My goodness, but that’s nothing to cry over. I think you’re as amusing as dry wood, and you don’t see me bursting into tears.”

His face softened as he looked up, perplexed, then shook his head, but in a gentler way. “Sage. How on earth did you get here?”

She folded her arms. “I walked.”

“That was rhetorical,” he said, sounding almost unaffected, his voice losing its strain.

“Those questions are the most fun to answer.”

He sighed; it was one of defeat. She knew it well. “Why is that, Sage?”

Evie propped a hand on her hip to angle herself lower. “Because it annoys you.”

The harsh sigh out of his lips could almost be counted as a laugh if she was clever enough with her imagination. When he brought himself back up to full height, rubbing his knuckles in soothing motions, the last points of tension on his face finally smoothed back into his normal flat expression.

She couldn’t see his magic—nobody could, and likely nobody ever would—but she could feel something very dark moving about the room with them, smaller than it was moments ago, but still something that should’ve made her shrink away in fear. Instead, she felt settled in it, almost…comforted?

She stayed where she was. “Is it any better, sir?”

His head turned toward her slowly, dark brows slanted downward. “Yes. It is. How did you…”

She shrugged, eyes flicking up to the glisten of sweat on his forehead. “I find that it’s more difficult to focus on pain when you’re distracted, and I excel at being distracting.”

Pulling a yellow handkerchief from her pocket, she boldly stepped forward and began dabbing at his skin, leaning on his arm with her other hand for leverage. The man was taller than was sensible.

She made a note to start wearing a higher heel.

To make lecturing him more efficient. No other reason.

Gooseflesh rose on his exposed forearm, the chill from the room obviously setting in after the adrenaline fled his system. “Th-Thank you, Sage.” He pressed the bright cloth to his knuckles, the color contrasting harshly with his all-black attire. “I’ll return it promptly. Clean, of course.”

She shook her head, smiling gently. “Keep it. You need more color in your wardrobe anyway.”

He nodded, processing the words as if scribing updates to their inventory logs. “Very well.”

A small ribbit sounded from the other side of the room, and Evie’s eyes followed it until she caught the gleam of Kingsley’s shining crown and the glow of his golden eyes. The frog’s oddities had grown on her in her short time in the office, his charming little signs a darling addition to what was turning out to be rather bloody work.

Literally.

“Good morning, Kingsley. Aren’t you looking handsome today.”

Another ribbit followed her pronouncement, and her boss rolled his eyes in annoyance. Too many pleasantries, clearly. “He looks like he’s up to no good. What are you doing down here, Kingsley? Trying to make another escape attempt?”

“Maybe he was checking on you,” Evie suggested, the last word fading away slowly when the boss shot her a glare. She took a few careful steps back, veering closer to the stairs, closer to Kingsley, who was scribbling on his small board with a vengeance.

“Not likely,” the boss said flatly, moving around her and taking two large strides up the stairs, a creak following in his wake. Which, she mused, didn’t make much sense—there should be no creaking. The stairs were stone.

“What is that?” she asked, looking from side to side for the source. Foolish. She should’ve looked up.

“Sage!”

Before she could take another breath, she was being tugged forward like a rag doll, a startled scream leaving her lips when a large crash sounded behind her. She coughed at the dust that was kicked up and the sudden stream of light coming in through the roof.

“Are you injured?” the boss asked, the low timbre of his voice pulling her from the adrenaline making her mind race. His dark eyes were scanning her, his large hands on each of her shoulders. It brought her back to their first meeting in the forest. She’d thought the shock of his touch would fade as time trickled by… No such luck.

She only managed to nod before he pulled his hands away, stalking toward the ruined slab of roof that had nearly clobbered her. “Shall I send for someone to repair the roof, sir?” she asked carefully, amazed at how steady her voice sounded when her heart was beating out of her chest.

“You were nearly crushed, and you’re asking about the roof?” He stared at her, mildly outraged.noveldrama

She shrugged. “Still not my most life-threatening day on the job, believe it or not.”

Something went dark in his face, darker than normal. He stared at the hole in the roof for a few seconds, taking deep, steadying breaths. “You’re still new, Sage. Worry not. There’s time.”

She laughed, and his face pinched the way one would respond to eating a sour grape. “So, uh. What happened to the roof?”

“The manor is old. It was likely natural wear. Some rusty screws probably giving. I’ll have it looked over by someone in the office and get the hole repaired. This won’t happen again.”

She hmmed. “Too bad. Near-death experiences are a very efficient morning jolt.”

“Stick to the cauldron brew, Sage. Specifically, for me. Even more specifically, on my desk, in twenty minutes. But be careful getting around this mess.”

He kicked at the broken piece of roof like it had deeply offended him, and Evie took it as her cue that she was dismissed. She lightly skipped around the debris, coughing a bit when her feet kicked up extra dust. Something slid under her shoe, a tiny ringing from it as it slid across the floor. She nearly stumbled over another as she leaned down to pick them up. The metal glinted in her hand. Screws. Not at all rusty. In fact, they looked perfectly intact.

“I told you to be careful.” The words stopped her, and when she turned to look at him, he appeared older than she knew he was. Weighed down by some burden he’d never share with anyone but himself.

She smiled brightly, trying not to take offense when he winced. “I’m a terrible listener.”

“That’ll get you into trouble someday, I think.”

She scrunched her nose before spinning around, her dress swishing about her legs as she made for the stairs to get them both a cup of cauldron brew. Kingsley hopped beside her, expertly balancing a sign in one webbed toe, whatever word he’d been trying to convey earlier written plainly.

Danger.

She smiled small. “Little late for that warning, Kingsley.”

Gently straightening his crown, she continued up the stairs. She called back cheekily, tossing the screws through the air, and the boss caught them with ease and frowned down at them. “I think my terrible listening will actually get you into trouble someday.”

She almost stopped again at a sound. It was as if The Villain was whispering something behind her.

Something that sounded an awful lot like…

“It already has.”