“I awoke the next morning with a raging headache and immense regret about not asking more questions and identifying the man before I gave the key to creating such a lethal device. I vowed not to sell them anymore after the last time when these awful little boys decided to use it to play a prank on their grandmother.”
Evie gasped in the face of such cruelty.
Because watching someone murder their brother is fine, but you’re drawing the line at old ladies in peril? Is that where we are?
Malcolm continued. “I even asked the other patrons the next night, plus my workers, but nobody saw past his hood. He moved like a ghost.”
There was a hollow, chilled feeling working its way through Evie. No answers, no name, not even a description. What’s worse was that, soon, whoever was doing this would know their attempt had failed. They’d see the damage they sought to inflict hadn’t taken out who they’d intended, and they’d come for him again.
Evie couldn’t allow that to happen.
“There must be something else,” she said. “You must remember something, even the smallest detail that might help.” She could hear the pleading in her own voice and hated it, but she was desperate.
Malcolm shook his head, looking to her and then behind her to his brother. “I’m sorry to both of you, truly. Tryst, I know we have our squabbles, but we were once thick as thieves, you and me. I would never seek to truly hurt you. There’s a reason we’ve tried to kill each other for years and neither has ever succeeded.”
“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?”