“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.
She ignored his question, determined to finish what they came for. Determined not to go down memory lane when it eventually led to a steep drop off a cliff.
“My boss was hoping to procure a collar for the creature, Mr. Warsen.” She took a step forward and nearly gasped when she felt a shot of pain in the scar on her right shoulder. She was quickly reminded of the magic in the blade he’d cut her with, the way her skin was probably glowing, even now, beneath her clothes.
Wincing and rubbing at the wound, Evie watched Mr. Warsen’s eyes follow her hand. He smiled.
She hated him.
He lifted a familiar dagger, holding it between his hands like a sacred object. Its uniquely white-colored blade gleamed and glittered beautifully, but to her it looked like a threat. “The last project we worked on before you left, Evangelina.” The closer the dagger came, the more her shoulder began to throb. He must have known, because he looked smug when he saw her wince again.
The universe was granting her small favors, it seemed, because her boss remained distracted by the little etchings on her old desk, looking lost in thought.