Her cheeks went red, which had a humbling effect on him. A mock look of outrage crossed her delicate features. “O-Of course not!” she sputtered.
A dry, low chuckle escaped his throat before he could cough it back down, then Trystan leaned forward onto his elbows. “Rest assured, Sage, the thought did cross my mind. But I don’t just want to find the person who’s been ruining all our hard-earned plans.”
He paused, watching as she leaned in, too, like she was mesmerized by him, but that was impossible. “I don’t want them to see me coming.”
Her eyebrows shot up in understanding, and he added, “I want them to sit wherever they’re sitting in this office right now, thinking they’ve gotten away with it. That they’ll continue to get away with it. All the while, we whittle away at their identity behind closed doors. I want them to feel safe, and just when they think they are truly in the clear, I will destroy them.”
He waited for the fear to flash on her face. Waited for the disgust to settle in. But instead, a knowing smile spread across her lips. A twinkle formed in her eyes as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And you know if the traitor finds out you’re looking for them, they’ll inform the person they are answering to. You want to take them by surprise, too.”
He couldn’t catch the drop of his jaw in time. “You— Yes, that’s exactly it.”
Her grin turned to one of her full, beaming smiles. Like there was a joy in understanding his mind. “We’re not ruling anyone out, by the way. I’m on there, too.”
This surprised him more than anything, because of course she should be on the list. Nobody was ever truly innocent. Least of all, this secretly maniacal cyclone sitting across from him, even if he knew it wasn’t her.
“Take your name off the list,” he said gruffly.
Sage shook her head, frowning at him. “I shouldn’t get special treatment. It could easily be me; I work the closest with you.”
“It quite literally cannot be you.” His eyes roved the small, glittering gold mark that circled her pinkie finger and then back to her face.
Her eyes followed his, and a dawn of understanding overtook her features. “Oh yes, the employment bargain.”
Bargain keepers were not easy to come by, nor was the magical ink used to make the bargains themselves. The one Trystan kept on staff cost him a fortune every time he used his services. It’s why the employee bargains were typically only done in green to his Malevolent Guards.
They acted as The Villain’s guards and personal spies when the situation called for it. With the green-inked bargains, Trystan was ensured that his guards never betrayed him. Once a new guard agreed to the posting with their signature, they’d be bound to Trystan’s life force with the inked-on ring. If anything happened to The Villain at their hands, the green ink would turn to a poison. Seeping into their bloodstreams and killing them swiftly.
Loyalty was easy to acquire when the only other option was death.
He’d originally intended to give Sage a green ring with the little ink he had left from his last purchase. But when the bargain keeper had arrived, he couldn’t go through with it.
He’d picked the gold instead.
“I couldn’t betray you even if I wanted to,” she said resolutely, eyeing the thing with a hint of wistfulness. “I can’t say I’m upset about being eliminated from the suspect list. The work this person’s ruined for me alone is enough to make me want to torture someone.”
He enjoyed pushing her a little too far sometimes, a habit he’d like to shove under his boot. “I have a couple of poor sops in the dungeons downstairs. If you want to try your hand?” He wasn’t being serious.
She pushed up from her chair, turning back toward the door, looking discomfited.
Good.
She made it nearly the whole way before she paused and glanced back at him.
“I would, you know. Torture someone,” she clarified, an alarming sincerity on her face. “If I knew it would help you—if it was someone hurting you… I’d do it and I’d probably enjoy it just a little.” With that, she spun on her heel, her sunny dress offsetting the weight of her words.
Trystan rubbed his chest, feeling everything she’d said break shards out of the walls he’d built. Feeling the cracks all the way to the blood roaring in his ears. He cursed, pushing back from the chair and turning to the window in the corner to stare out at the horizon.
He peeked back toward his desk, where Kingsley watched him with an almost sympathetic expression before holding up one of his signs that read Trouble.