Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(23)

He had her. He always would.

Or was that just the concussion talking?

His dark magic swirled around them, flicking out the candles, shattering a stray ceramic chalice. “Sir, your magic?” she said sleepily as her boss carried her from the room. “Maybe someone else should take me to the healer’s quarters.”

“My magic doesn’t matter.” He was resolved in that. Evie could tell by how strongly he spoke the words, how the statement didn’t seem at all emotional, just factual, pure logic in his mind. “No one touches you right now but me.”

She snuggled deeper into his chest, her heart beating for a different reason now as her arms clutched his neck. “I like possessive Evil Overlord. A new side to you,” she said dreamily, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Oh, Sage. If only you knew.” There was too much subtext in the rough words for her tired mind to pull apart.

Trystan had her. He had her.

But as Evie’s eyes drifted shut, she sensed that this simple statement was the gravest danger of all.





Chapter 13


Clare


Clare Maverine had made a slew of mistakes in her life.

Agreeing to work side by side with the woman she loved…that was one of the worst to date.

“Can you cut me more bandages, Clarissa?” Tatianna said her full name with that melodic ring the healer’s voice always had, so smooth it tickled a part of Clare’s brain she wished would remain neutral in Tatianna’s presence.

“Clarissa?”

Clare shook her head, her dark bob swept back by two flowered pins yet still managing to fall into her face. “Sorry. Yes, of course.” Clare took careful snips of the gauzy fabric that Tatianna was currently placing against Keeley’s mostly healed back.

Keeley, to her credit, remained quiet despite their encouragement for her to scream as loudly as she pleased. Burns were never pleasant to heal, even with Tatianna’s magic. “You’ll have to take it easy for about a week, Keeley. I mean it. No training, and you’ll have to delay any missions into the Gleaming Palace. You won’t be able to lead anyone to the female guvre in your condition.”

The captain’s eyes shone with a flash of defiance, but she nodded in deference. Clare knew what it was to hate being out of control, how terrible the captain must feel, as if she were letting down her comrades and her employer.

But in reality, she had done so much for them all already.

Two more Malevolent Guards stood in the corner with Gideon Sage, who had only been permitted to remain because Keeley seemed to relax every time he made a quick-witted remark.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Keeley said. “But time isn’t exactly on our side, and our new recruits need guidance.” She pushed herself onto her elbows, some color returning to her cheeks. Clare knew she was referring to the fact that the female guvre could be pregnant for another few months, but it was equally possible she would give birth in the next few weeks or even days. Very little information was catalogued on Fate’s creatures, mostly history from the early days of the magical gods’ creation of the kingdoms. How fate had aided the gods, then left their creatures behind to keep the balance between man and magic.

With the state of Rennedawn’s magic, it was clear man had failed. Miserably.

Min and Andrea, the other two guards, tried to smile, Min running a hand over Keeley’s very thick braid dangling off the exam table, moving over it in steady motions. “We’ll take the reins, Keel—you just take some well-needed rest.” Min frowned when she saw a few pieces of scorched hair.

Andrea tsked, kicking a red boot against the floor. “Yikes. Can we have the scissors?”

Keeley stiffened. “Why?” Her voice was shaky.

Tatianna mindlessly handed the shears to Andrea, none of them sensing Keeley’s evident distress, but Clare could read it. Clare had felt it. “We’re just going to take a few inches off to hide these burned pieces, honey,” Andrea said.

“No!” In seconds, Keeley had sprung from the table and sprinted to the wall, her red leather armor open at the back as she huddled on the floor. Almost unrecognizable as the warrior Clare knew the woman to be, she looked frightened and dazed, shaking. Her eyes misted as she looked up toward Gideon, who’d moved almost without thought to her side. “Don’t—don’t let them cut my hair. Please. I don’t like it when people try to cut my hair. Please, I don’t—”

The rest of the words were lost as Keeley shook so hard her teeth chattered. Gideon’s eyes didn’t leave her, his brown brows pushing together, his lips pulled down in a frown.

Clare couldn’t help it—the intimacy between the two forced her gaze in Tatianna’s direction, but the healer was already looking right at her. Clare could only hold the intensity of the gaze for a moment before looking away.

“Get rid of the scissors.” Gideon’s words were gentle but firm, resolved. He turned to Keeley. “I promise I won’t let anyone touch your hair, Captain.” He knelt and drew an X with a finger over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

It was a mystery why the young woman seemed so shaken by an act so simple, but Clare had known enough scarred people to realize that the simplest acts could trigger the worst memories. Min and Andrea didn’t seem any less confused as they nodded and left the room, giving Keeley some much needed privacy.