Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(115)

Becky winced slowly as she slid out, then waved a stern finger. “Why would I look for them in the air vents? A person wouldn’t even fit in here.” As she’d just discovered—three seconds ago.

“I think you’re worried about Blade, so you’re probably not thinking with a clear head,” Lyssa said solemnly, laying the back of her hand against Becky’s forehead as if checking for fever.

Becky pushed the girl’s hand away and climbed to her feet, standing inches above the little girl and pushing her glasses straight up on her nose. “Who told you that nonsense?”

“You did.”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Becky argued.

“Because you’re worried,” Lyssa suggested innocently. “About your suitor.”

This kid was smarter than she let anyone see and more perceptive by half. Becky was proud and irritated all at once. It made her miss her little brother. It made her miss all her brothers. Family had great power over a person; no one else knows better how to mend your heart, and no one else knows all the easiest ways to break it.

“I am worried,” Becky admitted. “But he’s not my suitor. I just wish he would wake up so I could know for sure he’s okay. As a…concerned colleague.”

“Because you love him.” Lyssa’s eyes lit up, and she jumped like she’d just found something valuable. “I knew it! I should have locked you both in the closet.”

The buzz of the office had just begun, but Becky was having difficulty discerning what time it was exactly. She hadn’t checked a clock in hours, hadn’t worried over schedules or ways to increase office productivity or if there were enough pens in the supply closet. Her entire evening into the wee hours of the morning had been consumed with Bladen Gushiken, if he would wake up, and when he did, what she would say.

You do love him.

NOOOOOOOO.

Becky shut her eyes and held out her hand. “Did you bring Evie’s journal like I asked?”

Lyssa nodded, tossing Becky the book. She paged through it, searching for the word “starlight” but instead stopped when a note fell into her lap.

“What is that?” Lyssa leaned over her shoulder to see.

Becky picked it up, holding it higher so Lyssa could see, too. “It’s a note to Evie from the boss. Asking her to come into work early for a morning meeting, dated from months ago. It says to come urgently or she’d be terminated.”

Lyssa ooohed. “Wow, harsh. Good villainy tip,” she stated, making a mark on the list the boss had given her that she’d been carrying around in her pocket.

Something wasn’t right. Becky continued staring at the note, wondering why it looked so strange to her…and then it struck her.

She’d seen the boss’s handwriting dozens of times over from all the paperwork she filed.

And this…was not it.

The letters curled with a flourish The Villain’s decisive handwriting did not have, and the cross on the T was slanted.

Becky breathed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling. “Lyssa, do you have any of the notes you received? Any you didn’t give to Clare?” It was just a hunch, but a hunch she needed to follow.

Lyssa looked guilty, frowning. “I do.”

Becky nodded in relief. “Let’s go get them.”

“Hold him down!” a male voice screamed from out in the courtyard. “Get the chains! Now!”

Becky and Lyssa came to a wordless agreement in a single glance, both running for the back doors and entering the courtyard to absolute wreckage. Fluffy slammed his neck into another pillar, keening and flailing, echoing another screech from the male guvre below the grate. Something was wrong.

The grate rattled.

“What’s going on?” Becky demanded, holding an arm out over her face. She shoved Lyssa behind her to protect the little girl from flying debris.

One of the Malevolent Guards who had remained in the manor, Dante, yelled at her over the frantic flapping of leathery wings. “We have no clue! The guvre was making these wild sounds, and then Fluffy started to panic.”

Dark-gray clouds rolled in, dimming the sun and casting a gray shadow over the scene, just as the grate began to shake as if something large was slamming into it.

One clang. Everyone stopped.

Another clang. Becky gripped Lyssa’s shoulder.

A third clang, and Becky knew there would not be a fourth as the grate flew off and out came the male guvre, his scales glittering the rainbow sheen of Rennedawn, of Fate.

Becky expected the animal to take to the skies at its newfound freedom, but instead he clomped over to them, his serpentlike body slithering with each step. Becky stumbled back, hand extended in front of Lyssa as the guards charged the animal with spears and weapons at the ready.

Lyssa spotted them before Becky could block the scene from her view. “No! You can’t do that!” the little girl cried, sprinting toward the guvre like her life depended on it. Becky chased after her at the same speed.

But she was too late. The guvre opened his mouth, letting loose a breath of purple mist—mist that was heading right for Lyssa.

“No!” Becky screamed, helpless as the mist enveloped Lyssa, surrounding her as she yelped in fear. It would kill her. And Becky would never forgive herself. The rest of her life would be haunted by all the ways she could’ve prevented this.