Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(58)

“Are you sure?” Sage frowned, rubbing at her eye with her other hand. “You said we weren’t stopping under any circumstances.”

Damn it. May as well start carrying a fucking shovel. It would make digging all these holes much easier.

“You know me, Sage,” he said, gently easing her off the animal, attempting to keep her as far away from his body as humanly possible. His control was wearing too thin, and his pants were far too tight to take any unnecessary chances.

Sage pulled away as soon as her feet touched the grass, taking his distance as disgust rather than essential. Good. Good. Let her think he didn’t want her.

He’d been behind on his heinous-lie quota for the month; this ought to catch him up.

“There’s a small clearing ahead. Seems as good a place as any,” Tatianna said, guiding her mount toward the open space. The sun was beginning to set, and soon darkness would surround them. “How near are we to Phoenix Village?”

“Not far,” Trystan answered. “We’ll need to pass through after we get the wand. It’s directly on our path to the south road, and I’ve made arrangements to get us discreetly to the southern kingdom’s border.”

“Isn’t that the village with the giant bird guarding it?” Clare asked warily.

“No, the name of the village is just for flourish,” Trystan said sarcastically, ignoring his sister’s glare. “I’ll get firewood.” Trystan handed his reins off to Sage, intending to have his un-villain-like panic behind one of the oaks. But he only made it two steps before a whoosh through the air had him spinning around to a small dart that had buried itself in his shoulder. He yanked it out and stared at it. The phoenix crest was a clear indicator of the owner…and a clear indicator he’d walked them all right into a trap.

“Shit! It’s an ambush. Take cover!” He turned, trying to summon his magic, but his arms were going numb, and then his legs.

Sage cried out and ran to him, her hands on his cheeks, her lovely voice breaking from screaming his name. “Sir. Sir, stay with me. Don’t leave me.”

How silly. Why would he ever leave such a beautiful woman? Black spots danced across his vision, and his awareness clawed its way back to the surface. “Sage, run. Tati! Take my sister and go.”

“Help me get him up, Tati!” Sage yanked on him with a surprising amount of force, draping his arm about her small shoulders. “Come on. Gods, you’re heavy. Time to cut back on the push-ups, Evil Overlord,” she huffed, struggling to lift them both to their feet. Tatianna gripped his other arm, and the two of them half walked, half dragged him toward his horse, but another whoosh through the air stopped them. Trystan fell to his side and watched, helpless, as Tatianna fell, too, an identical dart sticking out of her neck.

“Tatianna—” Trystan croaked as she fell unconscious.

Torture. This was worse than torture.

Footsteps rumbled on the ground below them, and a set of guards took hold of a screaming Clare. “No!” he yelled as one of them kneeled against his chest to pin him down. Their armor was familiar, but it wasn’t that of the Valiant Guard.

“Get off him!” A dagger was shoved into the guard’s shoulder, and he toppled off Trystan. Sage stood over him, dagger dripping blood and her eyes wild with fear and something else he couldn’t decipher. “Sage, go—”

“I’m not leaving you, so stop asking.”

She was resolved and wouldn’t move from his side. He couldn’t even yell at her to go any longer; his voice had given out. A guard grabbed Sage by the cheeks and shoved a yellow flower into her mouth, forcing her to swallow. She looked the guard directly in the eye, then smirked.

If his whole body wasn’t overcome by numbness, he had a horrible feeling he’d be rock hard in all the wrong places…or all the right ones.

Sage began to go limp in the man’s arms, and Trystan’s magic broke free of him so fast, the gray mist flooded the clearing.

“What the fuck is that?” one of the guards questioned.

No.

They can see my power, too. What in the deadlands is going on?

Despite his weakness, his magic worked to protect him, to protect them. Guards were dropping with a swipe of gray and then another. Their screams of terror were music to his ears.

Nothing better than that sound.

“Trystan!” Sage yelled.

Almost nothing. Almost.

It was the last word she spoke before her eyes shut and she slumped, just as his magic gave out, disappearing. Sage’s head fell back as the guard lifted her. Her limbs all drooped toward the ground, her curls cascading so low they almost brushed the grass.

He wasn’t sure why, but that seemed to be what infuriated him the most.

“You will rrrrreegret that,” he slurred, not sounding human, his arms giving out as he fell. Darkness slid over him, and he couldn’t tell if the sun had made its final descent or if he was passing out.

When he started seeing dancing unicorns, he began to suspect he was losing consciousness. Or losing his mind.

Later. Trystan would make them all regret this later, when he awoke.

If he awoke.





Chapter 38


Clare


Clare came to consciousness in a library. One so grand she began to think she was still sedated, her mind conjuring a most fantastical dream.