Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (43)

“Why should I care about that?”

“Because you’ve sold to this person before,” Trystan bit out. What was left of his patience was clearly being ground into dust by the tightness in his jaw. “Malcolm informed my assistant that whoever bought the wretched clock off him had ink stains on his fingers.”

Clarissa laughed, and it echoed off the vaulted ceilings. “So what? Lots of people in the kingdom sell ink.”

“But not everybody sells ink of strange colors, whether or not it was glowing,” Evie cut in. “Ink is expensive, and black ink alone can be difficult to find, let alone colors like blue and—” Evie angled her head at a small vial that caught her eye. “Is that one gold?”

Tatianna smirked. “Gold, Clare? Getting ambitious, are we?”

Snatching the bottle before Tatianna could grab it, Clarissa shoved it into the pockets of the apron she had just donned. “Have any bargains you’re looking to make? I’d give you a fair price on a few drops.”

Evie reeled, noting the unearthly glow of the bottle, before placing a healthy amount of distance between her and the rest of the group. “I’ll pass for now, I think. How exactly did you acquire magical ink in the first place?”

“I can ingrain magic in any object of my choosing—ink just happens to be the easiest for me to work with.” Sparks flashed over her delicate fingers as she dragged them through the air like living light.

“Beautiful,” Evie said in wonder, reaching out a hand to feel the warmth of the magic. Abruptly, the light was gone and Clarissa was gripping Evie’s left hand hard in hers.

“Well, well. It seems the ink I sent for your birthday didn’t go to waste, did it, Trystan?”

Evie followed her view to the gold markings wrapped around her pinkie finger—her employment bargain.

“This was done with your ink?”

The bargain keeper The Villain had hired to do it was a skittish old man who moved the ink like a liquid he could bend and control. Evie had known there was magic in the bargain she’d made, but she had no idea the magic lived inside the ink itself.

Clare narrowed her eyes, a satisfied smile spreading wide across her mouth. “Indeed. I didn’t realize this was the purpose he’d use it for.” She turned Evie’s hand over, closely inspecting the other side.

Pulling it from her grasp, Evie tucked it back into her side, feeling more than a little defensive of her boss. “It was a necessity, of course, for someone in his position.”

The Villain looked at her from the corner of the room, almost appearing grateful for her assistance.

The words Evie spoke didn’t seem to register to The Villain’s sister. “Yes, I’m sure he tells you everything he does is necessary. Everything has a reason, no matter how nefarious.”

“Nefarious is in the job title. Now, perhaps you’d be willing to quit stalling and tell me the name of every person who’s bought blue ink from you in the last three months.” The Villain gritted his teeth, standing to full height and practically creating shadows around him with his anger.

For the first time since they’d arrived, Clare looked at her brother like he was someone to fear, someone to run from. Evie knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

“I only sold two jars in the last month, Trystan. The first was to a forlorn widower, and the other…”

“What? The other what?” Tatianna pressed.

Clare winced before pulling a tattered book out from underneath the floorboards. “I didn’t know who he was until he signed his name.”

The Villain’s hand landed heavily on the table. “Tell me. Now.”

“The man introduced himself as Lark Moray.” She bit her lip and pointed to the signature below the name. “But he signed the ledger with one of the Valiant Guards’ sigils.”

The boss pored over the book, flipping page after page until every muscle seemed to lock at once. Then he turned on his heel and strode past them both, yanking the door open and striding out.

Clare stalked after him, gripping the black shirt on his forearms. “When is it going to stop, Tryst?” Her voice rose with each word. “When will it be enough that you’ll finally stop?”

Evie and Tatianna followed them both outside, standing and watching the scene helplessly.

Her boss stood there quietly for a moment before gently prying Clare’s fingers from his arm. “King Benedict went after you and Malcolm and everything I’ve built to oppose him. I knew that when this day would come, only one of us would make it out alive. I’ve learned to live with that.”

“This last hateful decade of revenge can end—you can make it so! He’d hardly recognize you now. You can move on.” The crack in Clarissa’s voice splintered something in Evie’s heart.

“You knew King Benedict?” Evie asked quietly.

His brows pulled down as a haunted look came over his dark eyes. “I worked for him…for a time.” He sucked in a large breath, seeming to brace himself for pain.

Evie’s head whipped back before she looked at him with wide eyes. “You worked for King Benedict? When?”

Trystan, The Villain, looked at Evie with a gravity that made her heart sink. “Before.”

“Before what?” Evie said, exasperated and a little fearful of his response.