Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (105)

“It was…productive,” she said, not having a better word.

“As all work should be.” Her father smiled at her. “It’s good you keep busy. Idle hands lead to nothing but trouble.” She knew he was thinking about her mother again by the way his other hand reached for the medallion at his neck.

“Papa… Did you know what a hard time Mama was having with her magic, all those years ago? Did you understand how she struggled? Or was it all a shock in the end?” she asked, unsure of why she needed to know the answer. Why it mattered.

He looked caught off guard by the question, but to his credit, he answered her, and she was sure it was the truth. “I knew when it was too late.”

Leaving him to his “cooking,” Evie moved toward her bedroom. She checked in on Lyssa, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Then, passing by her father’s office, she saw light spilling out from under the door. Had he abandoned his culinary disaster already?

When she pushed the door entirely open, though, the room was empty.

She entered slowly, feeling wrong. This room had been off-limits to her as a child, and despite her spiral into adulthood, it still felt like breaking a rule to enter without permission.

The crackle of the fire was dwindling, offering the room the slivered ends of remaining light. There was a small bookshelf pushed against the wall, with a few thick volumes and a few thinner—clearly children’s books Evie had loved as a child.

Staring back at the door with just a little bend of her neck to see into the hallway, Evie crept farther into the space, walking around slowly, assessing.

A candle flickered, and wax dripped onto a piece of parchment angled off to the side. Parchment that looked like it had been crumpled into a ball and then uncrumpled a good ten times before it was laid flat again.

Evie pulled a pin from her hair and flung it as close to the desk as it would fall. “Oops,” she muttered quietly to herself. After jogging over lightly and bending to grab the pin, Evie straightened just enough to peek at the words on the paper. Some of the ink was blurred, but what was etched at the bottom was clearly visible, and it caused a deep shudder of horror.

It was a letter—a long one.

Signed “with love” at the bottom…from the last person she’d expected.

Nura Sage. Her mother.





Chapter 53


The Villain


“I think they’re done,” Gushiken whispered above the dripping quiet of the downstairs cellar, just a floor above the torture chambers. This time of day, his prisoners were exceptionally loud in their dramatically painful-sounding moans.

Trystan was unsure of how the guvres slept so soundly through the noise. It was as if they were lulled by the agony of others. In all fairness, he often was as well.

“As long as they’re content, their magic should stay mild enough to keep them contained,” Trystan said. His thoughts were not nearly as focused as his words. They were a tangled riot, reviewing all the events that had transpired in the last few weeks and the chaos they had wrought.

But at least both guvres were back in his possession. Blade’s leather ropes had proven shockingly useful…even if the man himself wasn’t.

How he’d ever thought this man was a certified animal trainer was beyond him. He really needed to fact-check résumés before hiring going forward.

“Is that why you had me remove the wall in there?” Blade asked, tapping his chin and nodding toward the cage.

“Why else?” Trystan asked sharply.

“I don’t know.” The dragon trainer adjusted his vest. “I thought perhaps you took pity on them.”

“I don’t feel pity. Ever,” he said, trying to sound authoritative, but he knew how juvenile it came out.

The male guvre curled closer to the female, and they sighed quietly together.

“I just—” Trystan paused.

Last night, he had heard the male give off a low-pitched cry and watched as he raised his clawed foot and lightly scratched it against the wall separating him from his mate. As if he knew any attempt to get to her would be futile but he couldn’t find it in himself not to try.

The Villain was still in denial that he possessed a heart, but if he did…it might have cracked. Just a little.

“How is Ms. Erring?” Trystan asked, changing the subject and walking toward the stairs that ascended back into the office space.

“She’s fine. Back to breathing fire with the best of them.”

“That was a joke?” Trystan was doing his best to appreciate humor in others rather than rail against it.

“Yes, sir.” Blade smirked, walking up the stairs beside him.

“Very good.”

“Thank you?” Blade asked hesitantly.

Trystan walked into the office, which had been completely cleared. Sage’s desk was empty, her cloak and bag gone.

The sun had set beyond the trees, and the last rays of light shone through the window, painting the room with a warm glow. It didn’t feel quite right when she wasn’t sitting there.

Tatianna appeared around the corner, his sister following closely behind her, and suddenly, it all flooded back.

Him outside the door, hearing Sage scream. It was the sound of nightmares, of all his fears coming together to brutalize him.

And therein lay the problem. He was The Villain. He couldn’t afford to fear anything. Least of all be afraid for someone. His feelings for Evie would surely fade with time, as most things did. His heart began to quicken, as if telling him what a lie that was.