Assistant to the Villain -
: Chapter 43
“What in the deadlands?” The Villain muttered, angling his dark head up to the night sky, toward whatever was screeching loud enough to nearly burst Evie’s eardrums.
“Move!” she cried, recognizing the piercing shout in the sky and the purple hue to the cloud of smoke coming down toward them.
Her boss shoved them both out of the way and let loose a hard gasp when they hit the ground, eyes widening in realization before rolling them both over, away from another venomous cloud of breath from—
“They escaped?” Evie looked up over his shoulder at the dark guvre-shaped figure hovering in the sky. Because what else did this night need, if not a wickedly dangerous beast crashing the most awkward family reunion since the dawn of time?
And the most magical dance of her life.
She hadn’t even moved her feet; she’d just glided while he—
Another screech filled the air, accompanied by the screams of a scattering crowd. Right. Probably not the best time to ruminate, Evie.
The dirt bunched over her heels as her boss pulled her to her feet, cursing fast and angry when he looked to the other side of the bridge. Half of Briar’s Peak was gone, melting under the venom of the guvre’s breath. She flinched, bile rising in her throat when her eyes found the fast-decaying body of a man, still alive, still screaming in agony. Skin melting away from his bones.
“Oh, that is so sickening.” Evie covered her mouth with her hand.
“You’ve certainly seen far more grotesque things during your time in my employ,” The Villain said, far too matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the guvre.
“That doesn’t make that less grotesque,” Evie said incredulously before shaking her head. An awful feeling prickled along her skin. “The guvre, sir. Shouldn’t we—”
“Yes! Obviously,” The Villain said, seeming surprised and annoyed by his moment of distraction. Grabbing her arm and thrusting her in front of him, he yelled for her to move. “Go!”
“All right!” Evie yelled, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She could direct herself, despite public opinion. “How did one get out?” she called back. She tried to catch the beast’s coloring, but it was impossible to tell which one this was in the darkness.
What if they’d both escaped?
She could feel The Villain following closely behind her, yelling at her to move faster. The moment she heard the creaking snaps of old wood, she knew why. The guvre’s breath was eating up the bridge behind them, plank by plank. Until the whole thing creaked, and then they were falling.
Gripping the plank like it was a ladder, Evie felt splinters break off under her grip as they fell, then slammed against what was left of the cliffside, the ropes on their end clinging for dear life. Evie looked down, exhaling in relief when she saw her boss clinging to a plank farther away but still there.
“Are you okay?” she yelled down, trying not to flinch when she felt the freshly healed wounds on her hands reopen in a couple of places.
“Fantastic. I think I’ll have a picnic while I’m down here,” he called back with his normal dryness.
Oh yes, he was fine.
Evie nodded and turned to climb the rest of the way up. When she reached the top, her smile disappeared as the putrid smell of rotting flesh permeated the air.
It was a massacre.
Bodies were strewn about, corpses rotting down to the bone. The few still alive were screaming as the skin dripped from their flesh. Evie forced herself to look, begging one of the faces not to be Blade or… Fine, she would prefer one of them not be Rebecka Erring.
“It’s the male,” The Villain said at her shoulder, looking to the sky with a quiet rage, eyes narrowing when something large clattered to the ground. He stalked over toward the fallen silver item. It was the guvre’s ankle cuff, the clean lines of the break in the chain a clear indicator it had been cut free rather than broken. “Someone’s released him.”
“The person who got us here.” Evie sighed.
“It was a setup.” The Villain sneered.
But there was no time to speculate who had done it when first they had a creature to catch. “Why isn’t the male staying with the female?” Evie asked, seeking cover under a giant fallen tree that was lying at an angle, one end stuck in the branches of another tree.
Her boss quickly joined her. “The females are smarter, more strategic. The males often work off pure instinct. Right now, all he knows is that he’s been caged. Things will be even worse if his mate is still caged.” He seemed to think better of that statement because he added, “Worse is relative. Two guvres are also as bad as one male overcome with rage.”
“So destruction is his solution?” Evie rolled her eyes, pushing her loosened hair out of her face. “Men,” she scoffed.
“Yes, we can discuss the obvious weaknesses of my sex later.” The Villain’s eyes glittered. His black shirt was ripped at the shoulder, giving him a roguish dishevelment that made Evie’s stomach flutter.
At an obviously horribly inconvenient time.
“Gushiken!” he yelled with such deep command, Evie felt her back straighten at attention, her head nearly bumping the tree trunk they were hiding under.
Blade appeared out of the darkness and scrambled under the tree with them, blood running down his arm, panic in his amber eyes. “Hello, boss. When did you get here?” he asked, his casual tone a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.
“Could you perhaps dispense with the small talk? Any ideas on how to recapture him?”
“How much help was I the first time?” Blade asked bluntly.
Another screech and flurry of screams caused them all to jump. “None,” The Villain growled.
“Then I believe you have your answer, sir.” The cocky ease with which Blade composed himself wavered when his gaze flashed to a movement Evie caught out of the corner of her eye.
“I told you to stay hidden!” Blade said, an unusual steel to his voice.
Rebecka Erring appeared beside Evie under the tree, startling her so quickly, it knocked her back into her boss’s chest. “My gods, make a sound!” Evie held her hand to her chest, waiting for her heart rate to slow and then quickly realizing it wouldn’t while the guvre hovered dangerously above them.
“I wasn’t any safer behind the trees where you left me,” Becky muttered, nodding politely at The Villain and then turning to glare at Blade.
But The Villain didn’t notice as his gaze darted around the screaming party guests rushing past. “My sister. My sister was here. Before he attacked.” And then he took off running—leaving the shelter of their hiding spot.
“Sir!” Evie screamed, moving to follow, but she was jerked back down by Becky’s rough grip on her shoulders.
“Sit down, you fool. He doesn’t need to worry about you killing yourself while he looks for her. Just stay here and don’t get in the way.”
The words burned like the guvre’s breath against bare flesh, but Evie knew they were true. Unless she could replace a way to make herself a resource, she would quickly become a nuisance. Perhaps she already was one.
She couldn’t be that self-deprecating now. When she finally made it home later, hopefully in one piece, she’d check on Lyssa, feeling guilty for leaving her alone once more, then flop nearly lifeless into bed. Then and only then would she allow herself to delve into all the things her brain liked to tell her she did wrong or poorly.
“We’ve got to get the guvre,” Blade said absolutely, pulling a corded leather rope from his pocket. “Found this threaded through a few fallen lanterns—I think it’ll do the trick!”
“How the deadlands did he catch it the first time?” Evie asked, raising a skeptical brow as Blade knotted a large loop at the end. “That was used to string up lights. You think it’s going to hold a giant wild animal?”
“Have you got a better idea?” Blade asked, smiling roguishly. “The boss had his guards track the male for days before he had Tati mix a sleeping draught. They struggled, but they got him down instantly after they managed to pour it in the thing’s mouth, from what Keeley told me.”
“Then by all means!” Evie gestured wildly to the sky after another screech rent the air, slowly melting the tree next to them. The creature’s wings flapped overhead, and a gust of wind knocked them all back as he soared in the other direction, far enough for them to pause and catch their breath.
“I don’t have the sleeping draught now!” Blade yelled, all three of them backing up as a group of people ran past them, screaming, most of them bleeding or injured. Evie had backed up until she felt her dress catch against something behind her. Turning quickly, she saw a body slouched against the tree, hood pulled over their face.
Blade looked confused. “Is that man…taking a nap?”
“Or he’s dead!” Becky said, slapping Blade on the arm. “Poke him and see if he moves.”
Frowning, Blade bent low, picked up a twig, and reached out toward the drooped figure.
He crouched and moved his head toward the person’s shoulder. Then jumped three feet in the air when the figure moved before the stick could poke him, a rusty laugh coming from the dark shadows hiding his face.
“I’m not dead, just a little less alive.” The voice rang familiar the moment Evie heard it. Which was why she was unsurprised when the figure pulled his hood away and revealed Arthur’s bloodied face, his beard matted together in red. “I’ll be all right. Where is Trystan?”
“Who’s that?” Blade asked, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, and who are you?”
“He’s the host of the party.” Evie rolled her eyes.
Blade frowned sympathetically. “Oh, well, other than the melting people, I think it’s going really well.”
“Blade,” Evie said, crouching beside Arthur, tearing off a piece of her shining skirt and wrapping the fabric around his head. “Shut up, would you?”
“Sure, sure,” Blade said quietly from behind them. “I’ll go try and, um, get the… Well, you know,” he said, before running away from them and into the fray.
Arthur coughed lightly, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his lips. Panic shook Evie at the sight, worried for a man who had once cared for Trystan and very apparently still did. And he mattered to her boss, whether Trystan knew it or not.
Ripping off another clean scrap of fabric from her dress, Evie held it gently to the corner of Arthur’s mouth, praying that whatever ailed him could be healed.
“You’re brave.” Arthur smiled at her lightly, dirt mixing with the blood on his cheeks.
Evie snorted. “Hardly.” She was impulsive and headstrong on her best days, but brave? It seemed too heavy a word for the vision she had of herself.
“You must be to work for—” He paused, eyes taking in Becky behind her. He seemed to be weighing something carefully before he turned back to Evie with a different course in mind. “To work for The Villain.”
Arthur winced around the last two words, like calling his son something sinister was more painful than any of the wounds he’d suffered.
“He’s not so scary.” Evie smiled, feeling a small sort of glow inside when she pictured Trystan’s softer moments in her mind.
“Oh, but he is.” Arthur winced again but smiled. Finding humor in his pain.
“I’ve never been more afraid of anyone in my life.”
But Evie could hear the feelings behind his words. That his fear wasn’t of Trystan but of where the life he’d chosen would lead him.
He was afraid for him, and Evie was so touched, she vowed she would keep this man alive, no matter what she had to do.
Just then, Becky gasped, and Evie spun around to see—
She froze.
They were surrounded by Valiant Guards, swords drawn with ruthless determination.
And they didn’t look like heroes at all…
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