Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(73)

She only made it worse.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them to an alarmingly blank expression as he stormed to the door, flipping random chairs as he moved, mumbling expletives under his breath with each step. Ones Evie had never even heard before.

“Sir? Where are you going?”

“To find the fucking frog before one of those louts does.”

“O-Oh,” Evie sputtered after him, following him into the hall and then grabbing his arm as the gray mist spilled out of him in large waves of darkness, rolling through every corner of the mansion. “Sir? Are you losing control again?” she asked, watching it travel up the stairs, peeking into every room it could.

He turned and smiled, looking for the first time, to her, truly like a villain. And it was…well, it was quite honestly very attractive, but she didn’t want to say that aloud while waves of death magic were swirling around so menacingly.

A wild light in his eyes had him turning on his heel and stalking down the halls. “This way. I can sense the little bugger this way.” The corridor was barely lit as Evie followed him, about to ask if he wanted her to light a candle. Knowing how fearful he was of the dark.

But he didn’t pause, didn’t falter, just continued as if they were walking through Hickory Forest on the sunniest of days. She didn’t feel inclined to remind him of the darkness if he seemed determined to forget it was even there. “When he’s found, you’re not going to hurt anyone…are you?” she asked, more curious than concerned.

“That depends,” he said, turning down another corridor with long strides that Evie struggled to keep up with.

“On what?” she asked, huffing and puffing with each step.

“On who finds him.” Trystan rounded another corner, and Evie was nearly running now to keep up.

She bent at the hips and placed her hands on her knees, rasping out, “Can you please have mercy on the parties with much shorter legs than yours?” She took a fortifying breath and then yelped in outrage as she was thrown over Trystan’s shoulder and dragged down the hall, his magic dancing along behind them.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” she grumbled, flicking the dark mist as it came closer to her, and Trystan gripped her legs tighter.

“Stop squirming.”

“You’re carrying me like I’m a sack of potatoes.”

“Everyone likes potatoes,” he responded flatly as he turned down another hall and they entered a very dark library lit only by moonlight pouring through the balcony doors and open windows.

“To eat! Not to be transported as!” She beat against his back, resenting the red cape he still wore for obstructing her view of his perfect backside.

Unlucky me.

“Put me down!” she yelled, continuing to flail, and finally he did drop her on her toes, a light glinting in his eyes. A cool breeze from the open windows tickled her bare arms. A decision passed over him as he snapped to action, untying the red cloak from around his chest and draping it over her shoulders.

Not looking at her as he tied the knot, he nodded in satisfaction when the goose bumps forming from the bite of wind were covered. And then he was back on his tear, like the moment had never occurred.

“Here!” He stormed toward the balcony doors, slamming them open and edging to the side where one of the tree’s branches jutted so far over the edge, it was completely out of reach. “Prophecy be damned, I’m making frog soup tonight,” he growled.

And that’s when Evie finally spied Kingsley.

Sitting atop the branch, inches from falling.

To his death.





Chapter 47


Evie


“No!” Trystan yelled, nearly scrambling over the side.

“If you get on the branch, it will snap!” she yelled back. “It’s far too thin, and you’re far too tall. I’ll do it!” She looked at his legs and lingered a bit longer than necessary, but in her defense, there weren’t many excuses to stare at his legs and the pleasant way they filled out his trousers. There had been far too much talk of sexual exploits tonight for her to not imagine those legs—and the rest of him—hovering over her in a dark room with a soft bed.

Stop imagining the boss naked, Evie!

And rescue Kingsley!

The largest trees she’d ever seen had always existed in Hickory Forest, but the ones holding up the house were far taller than what she’d thought possible, the distance to the ground too high for her to measure.

“It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it,” Trystan insisted.

Well, if that hadn’t already settled her decision, his lack of “permission” would certainly have done the trick.

“What’s that!” she yelped, pointing to the other side of the balcony. It likely shouldn’t have worked on the evilest man in the kingdom, but it did. She tried not to laugh at his confused mien as he whirled in the direction she’d angled her finger—away from the branch.

The very same one she was about to leap onto. In a dress.

Don’t look down, she ordered herself.

“Sage, NO—”

She jumped, soaring through the air, free-falling for a second before both arms took furious hold of the branch. Her screaming would likely not speak well to her decision, but she’d already made the jump. It seemed far too late for regrets.