Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(135)

They were fighting a losing battle, but he’d fight it. For her.

“Benedict,” Trystan greeted, blocking Sage with his body. “An invitation into one’s home is usually customary, but since we brought so many uninvited guests to your last party, I suppose we can excuse the poor manners under the circumstances.”

“Oh, I won’t overstay my welcome. I know my dear associate Marvin didn’t receive such a kind reception. Then again, I suppose that’s fair, considering he tied up your chef and has been working as my spy. A useful young man, unsuspecting, which seems to be the ticket into The Villain’s office.” Benedict steepled his fingers, eyes on Evie. “But I’m afraid I’m missing one last piece of the prophecy, and as I’m sure you’ve discerned, time is wearing thin. I won’t go without it. My men will have the guvre returned to my custody imminently. I never thought that your foolish captain would be successful on a fool’s errand. But I suppose she is as easily influenced as she was as a child. Waiting for letters from a family she didn’t have, poor girl.”

Evie sneered, lunging forward, but Trystan stopped her with his arm.

“Keep that fire, Ms. Sage. I’ll need it. In the meantime, I thought I’d work on the ‘true prince’ portion of Rennedawn’s story.”

And then Benedict dropped Kingsley and allowed the frog to leap away.

“No!” Trystan cried out, but he froze when Benedict pulled a memory flower from his pocket—a new one, glowing opalescent petals open. “What’s happening?”

A bright light shone, and Trystan fell to the floor, clutching at his abdomen. Sharp pain spread through every limb, overwhelming every sense. It felt like his very blood was burning.

“Stop it! What are you doing?” Sage screamed. “It’s the frog you want!” Trystan fought through the pain, crawling on hands and knees toward the sound of her voice.

“Worry not, Ms. Sage! It’s all in the name of saving Rennedawn. A mistake was made twenty-four years ago on this day, and it’s time I righted it.”

The light faded, and Trystan drooped, groaning, into the ground. The voices around him were dull, his body depleted of magic and any sense of control.

The office door slid open, and Nura Sage ran in, throwing herself in front of her daughter. “Don’t touch her, Benedict!”

“Nura.” Benedict tsked. “Isn’t it time we stop these charades and allow your daughter to live in the future you and Griffin took from her?”

Nura shook her head, curls so like Evie’s moving with her. “No. No. You made a vow when she was born. You promised me!”

Benedict pointed the flower toward Nura, and out spilled Trystan’s magic, his mist, wielded by his worst enemy. “You will regret this, Benedict. You will not win this,” Trystan rasped.

Benedict tsked again. “Let it be with her, Nura. It’s been cursed to the wrong man for too long.”

The darkness brushed over Sage’s ankles, and she screamed. “What’s happening?”

Trystan stumbled, climbing to his feet, falling again, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop until he got to her. “Evie!”

Benedict clapped his hands together. “All in the name of the prophecy, Trystan.”

“But you’re wrong. You just let the heart of a true prince hop away!” he gritted out. Alexander was gone, Sage was being swarmed by his power, and his enemy was winning. Never had he felt this miserable, this low.

Benedict’s eyes were wild. “I don’t need him.”

Trystan blinked, rubbing his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“The heart of a true prince is right here in this room.”

And he pointed.

To Trystan.





Chapter 84


Evie


Evie heard a ringing in her ears, her body jolting from the shock of the truth, from the warmth swallowing the lower half of her body, unable to move her feet from the spot she was trapped in. She turned to Trystan, who was still doubled over but standing next to her. “How— Why? Why is your magic doing this?”

Benedict set the plant down, and the power came out faster, in sharper waves. “Your father was my friend, Ms. Sage. I never wanted his offspring to be my enemy, but we can’t trick Fate. The prophecy can see through lies. Unfortunately.

“Nearly thirty years ago, I met Amara. She was ambitious and beautiful, but I never had the desire to marry or sire children. My plans to rule extend beyond that of a mortal life, and Amara knew this when she fell pregnant. I bade her to get rid of the child, but instead we came to an agreement.” Benedict smirked, and Evie noticed something for the first time on Benedict’s face. Something she had missed.

A subtle dimple. In just one cheek.

“She could keep the child if I had free use of him as needed. When Evie was born six years later, Griffin came pleading about what the magical specialist had found, and I promised to undo it for him.” Benedict gave her a sympathetic tilt of his head. “All he ever wanted was to save you from villainy.”

“I don’t want to be saved,” Evie spat. “And I certainly have no need to be.”

Benedict wasn’t fazed. “That much is clear. Which is why I’m happy to bestow upon you the destiny your parents tried to save you from—I mean rob you of.”