Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (61)

She’d never told anyone and never went back. Anytime she saw Mr. Warsen around the village, he smiled and waved in a friendly manner and she swallowed down the bile and moved on.

But there was always that little glimmer, like the two of them shared a secret, and she could tell Mr. Warsen was pleased for it. She wanted to strangle him.

More than that, she pictured how she’d feel if The Villain hung his head in the entryway.

Suddenly, the smile on her face was very real as the two of them approached. “Good morning, Mr. Warsen,” The Villain said, his voice seeming to become smoother. He held his hand out to shake the blacksmith’s, who quickly pulled his hand from one of the leather gloves.

Evie didn’t move.

“A pleasure, Mister…?” Otto asked, his bald head reflecting the sunlight.

“Arthur,” The Villain said smoothly. “I believe you know one of my employees, Ms. Sage?”

Otto narrowed his gaze warily, looking to Evie. “It don’t matter what she—”

Before he could say more, Evie blurted out, “I was telling my boss of your wonderful craftsmanship when I was cleaning his collection of rare blades.”

There was still a wariness in the blacksmith’s face, but a renewed edge of interest at the prospect of a sale joined it. “Well, of course!” He grinned wide. “Evangelina got to witness my prowess with a blade firsthand while she was under my employ.”

Evie’s nails bit into her palms. “I certainly did.” A modicum of disdain slipped in over her false sincerity, but the two men were too busy sizing each other up to notice.

“What are you looking to have made, Mr. Arthur?” Otto gestured to a few pieces of unfinished work. “If you want it sooner rather than later, it’ll cost you, I’m afraid. I have many orders to fulfill.”

“Oh, I’m willing to pay whatever it takes.” The words were lower, almost angry, before they lightened again. “Especially since this will be a rather large project for you, Mr. Warsen. I hope you’re up to the challenge.”

Evie could practically see gold coins dancing in Otto’s vision. His beady gaze darted to hers as he answered, “I love a challenge.” Then he turned and opened the door to the smithy, a gust of hot air rushing out from the forge. “Please come in.”

The Villain followed him through the doors, and Evie tried to stay close behind him, but she froze when she felt Otto’s arm slip around hers. He leaned in and whispered in a low voice, “I’m glad you’re not letting what happened between us grow into a personal matter, Ms. Sage. It was, after all, only a misunderstanding.”

Her pulse pounded in her neck. “Misunderstanding, yes. I told you to get away from me…” Her boss was distracted by a row of chains hanging on the other side of the room. “And you misunderstood that for ‘attack me.’”

She pulled her arm from his grasp, smiling sweetly at him. “I can see the confusion.”

The blacksmith had the good grace to look panicked at her pronouncement. Good—she hoped he felt like his guts were about to spill out. Hers certainly did.

If there was ever a time to lose your lunch on someone’s shoes…

Pushing her shoulders back, she looked the feeble man directly in the eye. “But I can keep things professional. I hope you have the same capability.”

The Villain seemed to notice their hesitation and turned toward the pair standing by the door, a question in his black eyes.

“Why don’t you tell Mr. Warsen about your most recent purchase, Mr. Arthur?” Evie came to her boss’s side, her gaze focused on Trystan instead of the surroundings that haunted some of her darker nightmares.

Her boss angled his head but picked up her clue smoothly. “Of course. Mr. Warsen, what do you know about the dealings of wild creatures?”

“Not much, my lord, I have to admit.” Otto seemed to be taking the stance of humble shopkeeper. He played the part well. “I’m not as worldly a man as yourself, clearly.” He laughed, gesturing to his shabby clothes and dirt-covered face.

The Villain smiled, wide enough that the dimple in his cheek appeared. A boiling anger was building in her gut. Otto Warsen was hardly worthy of seeing something so precious.

But her boss didn’t notice her anger at all as he added, “I’ve had great luck in acquiring a guvre recently.”

The warmth in the room seemed to be sucked out with the mention of the deadly beast, whose serpent body and batlike wings were the least terrifying things about it. It was their breath that summoned nightmares. Dragons breathed fire, but guvres breathed venom that could melt the flesh from your bones. Their bites were slightly less deadly but no less terrifying.

“A rare and elusive creature, my lord,” Mr. Warsen said nervously. “They’re considered nearly impossible to train.”

“Yes, well, I’ve hired a very talented tamer of wild beasts. I have no doubt he’ll be successful once the animal is delivered to me.”

Evie almost snorted.

Good luck, Blade.

The boss did a double take when he spied a small desk and wooden chair pushed up against the corner. “Is that where you used to do your work, Sage?” He walked over and ran a hand over the desk, his lips pulling up lightly at the corners when he saw the little heart she’d carved into it nearly a year ago.