Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (101)

When Clare glanced their way, Tatianna murmured quickly and mindlessly, “Is my bow straight?”

Evie laughed, and Becky had to press her lips together to keep from smiling. When the healer realized what she had said, she looked at them both angrily. “Say nothing.”

Clare glided toward them, looking ethereal in a light-blue dress that complemented her dark eyes and hair. She halted in front of them, giving Tatianna a once-over and then looking away, as though disinterested. But Evie didn’t miss the red tinge to Clare’s cheeks.

“Hello,” Clare said, her voice soft. “I was hoping to speak with you two.” Her pale hand gestured to Evie and Tatianna. “Perhaps in your quarters, Tati?” Clare gazed at her with a firm, purposeful expression.

Tatianna’s eyes widened like she was realizing something, and she said, “Oh yes! Let’s go, Evie.”

There was suddenly a nervous energy in the air that made Evie uneasy, like perhaps these two should work things out alone… “Are you sure you want me to—”

Tatianna gripped Evie’s arm, her eyes clearly saying, If the ship is going down, you’re sinking right down with me.

Evie blinked back. Stupid boats. Then said out loud, “Okay…let’s go.”

Tatianna kept her arm linked in Evie’s as they moved toward the hall that led to the healer’s quarters.

Clare entered the room before both of them, like she owned it, like it was hers. Tatianna’s response to that was exactly what Evie would have expected: blistering anger. Rolling her eyes, the healer pushed past Clare to a small rectangular box in the corner of the room.

Evie looked at them both, confused. “What’s… What’s in there?”

Tatianna smiled at her, but it was a grim one. “I’m afraid this will hurt, my dear.”

And then it did.





Chapter 50


The Villain


Well, the office search turned out to be useless, but that was hardly the problem now. Trystan stared at the crossed-out names and blinked. It had to be wrong.

Over the course of the last month, he’d been periodically removing names from his full list of employees. First eliminating any of the Malevolent Guards, then Sage, then Blade, quickly followed by Rebecka. He knew from the start it couldn’t be her, but he was not a man prone to easily trusting anyone. Except Sage.

The leather of his chair groaned as The Villain leaned forward over his black desk.

His siblings, included in a brief “acquaintances and non-enemies” section of the list, were also crossed off. A few of his guards had kept a watchful eye on them since the explosion, and neither had committed any suspicious acts. Malcolm had apparently not left his tavern since that night, save to stumble out to the bushes to empty his stomach. The list had narrowed further when a confidential shipment was compromised. All ten people who had known about it had been accounted for except one. And when the guvre escaped, everyone on the list was accounted for. All except the same name.

Tatianna.

No, not her. Not one of the few reminders of his past he didn’t mind having nearby.

She knew so many secrets, but how many of those many secrets belonged to her?

Trystan wouldn’t sit here and ruminate on it. He knew Tatianna. He would simply go ask her where she was during the guvre’s escape, which was what he would’ve done if he hadn’t been comforting his sister most of the night.

He pushed open the door of his office and strode out, his boots echoing down the hall as Trystan tried to shake away his doubts. This was Tatianna—there was no way that she was any sort of traitor.

Nearly to the door, he took a deep breath and assured himself there was nothing to worry about.

A familiar scream rent the air, causing the breath to seize in his chest in a flash of hot pain.

Evie.

Trystan flew the last couple of steps to the door to Tatianna’s room, wrenching the handle—it didn’t budge. He began pounding on the locked door so hard it shook.

Sage’s pain was surrounding him as though he could see it. It was stinging his skin, burning him so deeply he felt faint. Trystan rammed his shoulder against the hard wood of the door, but it wouldn’t give. “Open the door, Tatianna!”

Another scream.

Frantic. He felt frantic. It was almost like he could see her pain in front of him, her crumpled on the floor. Her agony.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” Wood was splintering under his fists, tiny, sharp pieces sliding under his skin painfully. He didn’t care.

His magic pulsed, but something was blocking his power—a ward. Clare had painted a ward on the door. Trystan pounded against the wood now with the fury of a thousand storms, fear seizing the breath in his chest.

A weak voice called out, Sage’s voice: “Trystan.”

It was then that he became blind with rage and panic and all the thousand things that could be happening to Evie… It only took one more strike after that before the hinges flew clear off and the door gave way to slam against the floor.

The Villain crossed the threshold slowly, chest heaving, fists clenched. The gray mist of his power snaked across the room, landing on Clare and Tatianna, who looked horrified, fearful. Breathing heavily, he took in the rest of the scene.

The room appeared as it always did, not an herb out of place. His sister and Clare stood near each other, Tatianna holding up a small box toward Sage…