Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(114)

She reached to remove it—and then he bit her.

“Ouch!” she yelped, dropping him. “What was that for?”

He saluted her sarcastically.

“I don’t care for frogs,” she said, crossing her arms. “You have a terribly hard bite for such a tiny thing, don’t you?”

Kingsley searched himself for a sign out of habit, only to recall he was missing them all. Drat.

The back door slammed open, and then there was nothing but shouts, screams, and absolute mayhem. Trystan pushed into the kitchen, disheveled and breathing heavily.

Winnifred lurched back, grabbing a fork as she went, and started swinging…with her eyes closed.

Which, for combat purposes, was certainly a choice.

“I told you to knock first,” Evie yelled. “You scared the poor girl,” she finished, walking toward the fork wielder with an improper lack of fear.

“Sage, she’s got a weapon. Don’t,” Trystan said, holding a hand out to stop her, just as the silver prongs stuck into the middle of his palm. The whole room froze, and Evie winced, lips pulled back from her teeth as they all stared at the silver end of the utensil jutting from the boss’s skin. “There’s a fork,” he said, more curiously than angrily. “In my hand.”

Evie said carefully, “Well, of course it’s a fork. I sincerely doubt a spoon could do that.”

Trystan sighed.

“Oh no,” Winnifred whispered.

“Should I pull it out?” Evie asked as Tatianna entered the room.

Tatianna lifted Trystan’s hand, looking it up and down. “Yeah, it’s shallow. It’ll come right out if you tug.”

Trystan pulled his hand away. “No one is pulling anything out!”

Alexander chose that moment to leap for Trystan’s shoulder, using the neck of the fork as a boost. It clattered to the floor, and Trystan cursed as he shook out the appendage. “Damn it, Kingsley.”

“Excuse me.” Winnifred was even quieter, like she had a setting for volume and someone had cranked it as low as possible.

Alexander disliked it.

Neither Trystan nor Evie heard her, though—not over their bickering, anyway.

“It is your own fault. I told you it would be better if you give a warning before you enter like your hair is on fire,” Evie argued.

The veins in Trystan’s forehead were looking to make their great escape. “It is called breaking and entering, Sage. I broke. I entered. And was stabbed with a fork. All in all, a successful entrance.”

Evie smiled fondly, warmly. “You’re right.”

Trystan eyed her warily. “This is a trap.”

She shoved him, rolling her eyes, and once more, Winnifred repeated herself. “Excuse me?” A little louder, still far too quiet.

Alexander didn’t care to watch her do it again. He noticed a chalkboard hanging in the corner of the kitchen for ingredients and wrote one word.

Listen.

“What are you doing?” Winnifred whispered to him in astonished confusion. “Don’t do that.” She waved her hands as if willing his sentience away.

The woman had magic of some sort. Was a communicative frog all that much more to grapple with? He double-checked his spelling. Nope. Not that.

“Apologies.” Trystan cleared his throat, bowing stiffly. “We’re here to see my mother. Arthur, I believe, went through the front.”

Winnifred gasped, eyes glued to Evie. “But you’re The— I mean, from the flyer, you look like, um— Are you certain Mistress Maverine would invite you here?”

Evie assured her, “Oh, we weren’t invited.”

Winnifred squeaked. Like a mouse.

“Trystan!” Amara’s voice pierced the calm that had settled over the kitchen. “Get in here. Now!”

Winnifred sighed. “I’m getting fired.”

Alexander made an odd sound, his snort while laughing coming out as sort of a croak. It wasn’t so different from the others, but making that sound was somehow more tolerable when it was his choice.

“Oh, fear not.” Evie waved her hands around. “We’ll lie and say we threatened you!”

“Lie?” Winnifred muttered under her breath, turning her head and exposing a small beauty mark just below her cheekbone.

Evie gave Winnifred’s arm a familiar squeeze—so familiar Alexander almost believed they hadn’t just met two minutes ago. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.” She waved an arm. “Come along, Trystan.” The order was thrown over her shoulder, as she was already halfway through the door.

“I’m not a dog,” he replied darkly.

Evie shrugged, still walking, face forward. “Fine. Stay, boy. I’m going to meet your mom; I am sure we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

Uh-oh.

The ominous warning was not necessary, however.

Considering Trystan had already heeded her order to follow as soon as her back had turned.





Chapter 70


Becky


Meanwhile, back at the manor…

“Ms. Erring?” Lyssa asked from outside the vent near the manor’s front entrance. The one Becky currently had her head stuck in. “Are you looking for the traitor in the ventilation system?”