Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (37)

“Because you’re bad at killing?” The Villain bit out.

“No.” Malcolm huffed a laugh, moving closer to his brother and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Because neither of us truly ever wanted to.”

“Oh, I wanted to. I dream about it nightly, as a matter a fact.”

He smiled knowingly. “Then why aren’t I dead yet, brother?”

The Villain rolled his eyes and turned toward Evie, who was nearly bursting. Because really, this whole scene was adorable—threats of killing aside, of course. He asked, “Are you ready to leave?”

The wine or ale or whatever that swill was had given her far too much confidence. “If you’re done playing with your little brother,” she said, unable to hold back a grin.

He narrowed his eyes at her and began to walk to the other side of the back wall. “Thanks for nothing, Malcolm.”

“Come back and have a drink another night. I promise I won’t sell any more explosives to people trying to kill you,” he called out with a cheeky grin. “Lovely to meet you, Evie. I hope you’ll return soon.”

Evie gave him a small curtsy. “Not until your drinks stop tasting like rotten vinegar.” She scrunched her nose, and he laughed as she turned to catch up with her boss before he disappeared into the night.

But she halted in her tracks when Malcolm called after her one last time.

“Evie!” She turned to face him. His eyes were wide, so wide she almost saw the thought forming. “He had bright blue ink around his fingernails. When he took the clock from me, it was glowing and all over his hands.”

Her heart swelled with hope. “Blue glowing ink? Well, that is something.”

He nodded, clearly satisfied, and once more called to his brother over her head. “We both know who sells it, Tryst. It’s not a coincidence.”

Giving him one last smile, she barreled after her boss, the chill of the night air invigorating her. The Villain was moving at a snail-like pace, so much so that she needed to skid to a halt to remain beside him instead of ahead.

“Did you hear?”

“I did.”

“And?” she pressed.

“Ink stains are hardly a lot to go on, but glowing blue ink… I suppose that leads us somewhere.” His strides became longer as he approached a cropping of large trees, his black horse waiting loyally beside it. He brushed a hand between the animal’s eyes, a contented sound coming from its mouth.

“It had to be magic, right? What sort of ink would glow?” Evie paused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Unless your brother was even drunker than he let on.”

The Villain’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t turn from stroking his horse gently. “Oh, Malcolm was, but I don’t think he’s wrong about this. It makes sense, all things considered.”

Evie tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But he ignored her question, pulling his horse farther into the trees. “Will you be safe getting home?”

She angled her head at him, curious as to the concern creeping into the edges of his voice, like words bleeding through to the next page.

“Yes, I know the way. It’s brightly lit with lanterns and perfectly safe.”

He nodded before mounting the creature and looking down to her with an unreadable expression. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

She nodded, a grin pulling at her lips. “Of course, sir. It’s my job.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but then his mouth shut tightly. With a sharp nod, he turned and rode on into the night, leaving her in the darkness.

But as Evie walked home, she couldn’t help feeling he was still nearby, keeping an eye out that she made it back safely. Or maybe that was just the fanciful thinking brought on by too much bad wine. Either way, it lightened her step and put a slight smile on her face.

Until she got home and realized that someone wasn’t just trying to kill The Villain. They had wanted to use his brother, someone close to him, to destroy him.

After she changed and climbed into bed, she lay for hours, her stomach twisting with one thought. Would this enemy try to use her next to get to him?





Chapter 15


Evie


The Villain never missed a sunrise when she was there.

Evie had decided to go into the office early that morning. Her week’s end had been spent in the village’s very small library. The dust had gone up her nose as she sifted through page after page, looking for anything she could find on magical ink, and further, on explosives. But the limited selection only had one book on magic.

Her village was small, so informative magical texts were harder to come by as the prices increased, and few people ever developed magic. Fewer still were magical specialists, the educators of the magical world. They were charged with documenting and assisting when someone’s magic awoke, helping them understand it. Evie wasn’t aware of any new magic users in her own village, but she knew nowadays having a specialist was a privilege not many outside the Gleaming City received.

The book she had managed to find in the sad excuse for a library was useless. All the information was general, things she knew just from listening to the people around her. The breaking point was when she came upon the last five chapters that summarized controlling your magic before it could control you.