Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (66)

Following her out, ensuring the door panel was set in place behind them, he tucked the magic dagger that he’d pulled from the wall into his belt, taking a step back when he saw her wince at the closeness of it.

“Yes, of course. I’ll see what Tatianna can do about this.” His dark eyes found hers and she felt pinned, but not from his power, the way she’d felt before. It was a look of knowledge, a look of understanding, and it made her feel as if every cold, painful feeling seeped out of her to make room for the warmth.

“Thank you, sir.” Evie headed down the path that led to her home, shocked that the sun was still shining with so much chaos happening below it.

“Whatever he did, whatever happened that you ended up harmed, you are under no obligation to share it with me,” he called out, and when she turned around, he looked uncomfortable, like his clothes were too tight. “But if there is ever a time when you decide you do not want him existing in the same world as you are, I hope you know, I will enjoy destroying him.”

“Maybe I will,” she said lightly. “Tell you what happened sometime.” She winked at him before beginning once more down the path to her home and tossing over one shoulder, “Over a disgustingly sweet cup of cauldron brew.”

The echo of his laughter carried her home, made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.

Until her shoulder began to sting again and her reality came crashing back in.





Chapter 29


The Villain


It was finally time.

Trystan ducked as another swamp of purple mist melted a large patch of trees directly next to him. The heat from it singed the corner of his—his hair. Sprinting a few yards away, he reached up to feel if the strands were unharmed, yanking his hand down swiftly when he saw Keeley staring at him with a strange expression.

Trystan lifted his chin and refocused on the rest of his Malevolent Guards ducking around the guvre, waving their arms to distract the animal. Nature was wilder and less inhibited this close to the western edges of Hickory Forest, but the overgrown trees provided reprieve from the cloying heat. The animal had been lounging around this cliffside for more than a week, the longest since Trystan had decided to start tracking it, to catch it.

He’d seen a guvre once before, long ago…

Blinking hard, he forced himself back from the past, refusing to give the blackness that lived there a moment’s thought. The creature looked different from the female he’d seen then. Her features had been stronger, more defined, her rough, snakelike skin a muted brown. The male he was looking at now was created to impress.

The smooth skin of his back was a shocking array of pigment, like every time the sun hit it at a different point, a new color emerged. Trystan scanned the creature’s every move, a kaleidoscope of bursting and twinkling color.

Twinkling? He’d been spending too much time with Sage.

Moving out from behind the tree, the rest of his body was revealed, color by color. The animal wasn’t bigger than the dragon currently freeloading on his property, but he was quick like fire. His wings flared when he moved, the shine making some of his guards stop to stare in wonder. His long body rippled and coiled, boneless. His head was that of a serpent, and it shone brightly like the rest of him.

“Unless your desire is to spend your final moments on earth melting into it, I would suggest you continue MOVING!” The Villain bellowed. Something he didn’t care to do as a rule, but their carelessness seemed to demand it of him. “Keeley! Do you have the sleeping draught?”

The head of the Malevolent Guards nodded, tossing him the vial. “Are you sure you want to be the one to do it, sir?”

He gritted his jaw, eyes narrowing on the beast. “It has to be me.”

This was his battle. He’d been waiting for years to capture this creature, and it would be only his life in peril when he did it.

The sleeping draught was concentrated—a drop could take down a horse, two drops an elephant. A whole vial? The guvre wouldn’t be standing long. The risk was in the time it would take to work. He was going to be cut to ribbons, and he hadn’t even had his afternoon pastry.

But he needed the male if he was going to catch his mate.

The Villain felt a satisfying malevolence curling in his magic, the gray mist appearing at his fingertips. Not yet, he soothed it. Soon.

There were sure to be questions around the office as to why Trystan would want a guvre and, if word got out to the public, why The Villain would want it. But his reasons were rooted in nearly everything he’d done over the last decade of his life. If King Benedict wanted something, The Villain had to get to it first.

Once The Villain acquired the guvre, it wouldn’t be long until the news creeped its way back to King Benedict, by way of his office traitor, exactly how he intended.

The Villain smiled to himself. Victory would soon be his.

Even if it meant placing his guards and himself in possibly the most danger they’d faced in a while. As if on cue, the serpent hissed another spray of venom that just barely missed his guards, trees melting as the purple goo-like substance struck the bark, the leaves disintegrating like dust.

Sighing, Trystan gripped the vial of sleeping draught in his fist, using one of his hands to remove his black cloak, watching the garment fall to the ground. He was left in the attire he reserved for his least favorite tasks. Black leather hugged his legs, and boots lighter than his usual donned his feet and shins. His black shirt was tighter than what was comfortable, but he didn’t want to be encumbered by the extra fabric.