Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(8)

“No!” Trystan hissed. “Come back. I did not call for you!”

But it was too late.

The dark magic swarmed about the room, enveloping everything in its path. Gray mist tangled around her ankles, gliding over her wrists and swirling through the strands of her curls so closely, the cool whisper of it tickled the sides of her face.

“Sage, get back!” Trystan bellowed, holding out his hands, his face straining in his attempt to regain control.

It should be noted that Evie’s first instinct was to resist the request, to stand beside him until the power calmed—but in a humbling turn of events, she realized that the only way to calm him, to calm his magic…was to stay away.

The cobwebbed chandelier swung under the force of the black mist, the framed wanted flyer of The Villain rattling against its place on the wall. “Okay. I’m backing up!” she announced to the magic, trying to stifle it. And failing.

Thoroughly.

The wanted flyer fell, crashing hard onto the floor, a horrible breaking sound echoing in its wake. The frame had cracked directly in half at the impact, the glass slicing the portrait in the same manner, tearing the parchment right through The Villain’s flaming head.

“What was that?” one of the interns cried as the mist swiped out several torches, casting even more darkness about the space. Accusatory eyes fell upon her boss, who was still grappling for an ounce of self-control.

“It’s a new Scatter Day method,” Evie said quickly. If she could not quell the boss, she would have to put herself to use some other way.

By getting rid of the workers.

The boss’s voice was ragged as he ordered, “Be calm, everyone. Do not panic.”

“The boss has set a ghost upon the office. First person it possesses loses…their head!” Evie yelped and then closed her hands over her lips as if it had been someone else.

There was a moment of silence, followed quickly by shrieking, the workers tripping over themselves to get to the exit, pixies squealing as they fluttered past, a stampede of interns following them. When the last person finally stumbled out of the space, the silence was overwhelming.

Her boss was staring at her, his face unreadable, as he started to saunter casually to one of the abandoned chairs across the room. The power was slinking back to him in slow ripples, some of it still lingering at her feet until, with something between a puff of breath and a tiny squeak, it abandoned her boots and returned to The Villain’s side. His eyes were no longer hard on her, but he was leaning back in the chair, his arms crossed like an indolent king as he sighed.

She flinched like there was accusation in it, forcing her defenses to rise. “I didn’t think they’d all run away.”

“You threatened them with a ghost,” he drawled, rubbing at his chin. “What were you expecting?”

“I didn’t threaten. I warned,” she corrected, walking over to the shattered wanted portrait, picking up the remnants of The Villain’s false depiction that had once brought her such joy. “Would you rather I announce to them that your magic’s out of control anytime you get too close to me? While I’m at it, I could mention that the entirety of Rennedawn’s magic is going wonky because the prophecy is nowhere near complete. Oh! Or I could tell them that if we fail to complete it ourselves, King Benedict will have ultimate power over the kingdom, probably forever. That ought to make for good break-room conversation.”

His eyes flashed dangerously, and she regretted her words as soon as she saw their impact. His magic edged closer to her again, the mist dancing around her feet until she felt the cool slide of it against the skin of her ankles. It was dangerous magic, it was what made her boss “The Villain” in the first place, but she couldn’t help but find the dark power delightful. Comforting, even. Like a home she’d never known.

“Sage. I think you should return to your new office. Since I’m so”—he swallowed—“out of control.”

Her heart softened, and her soul felt as tattered as the ruined portrait between her fingers. “You know I did not mean it that way,” she said softly.

“Go.”

The word was hard and cold. Nothing of the man she’d come to love, no hint of him behind the walls he was rebuilding around himself.

She looked down at the flyer, clutched between fingers still pinkened with the remnants of her morning skirmish, and pulled it to her chest. Sniffing and straightening her shoulders, she walked toward where he sat and bent down to eye level. “No.”

His head shot up, and his lips parted, a sheen over his black eyes. “Sage—”

“Ms. Sage! Mr. Villain!” One of the newer interns burst through the door, panting wildly, arms waving. “It’s horrible!”

The Villain shot to his feet, exchanging a glance with Evie while they braced for the worst.

“We found the ghost!”





Chapter 4


Evie


“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Evie said as they took long strides down to the office kitchens, where the apparent “ghost” was residing.

“I don’t,” her boss grumbled.

“Then why are you coming with me?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as they rounded the corner, a flash of an open window gifting them wisps of warm breeze and the sweet smell of green grass.