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“Be quiet, you little urchin, or you’ll get us both killed.”
She’d been called many disparaging things in her life. Alarmingly all beginning with the letter F. Flighty, foolish, forgetful, and, by a strange turn of events, she was finally able to add the final F. Fucked.
“You just can’t kill people and be pretty. It’s confusing.”
Shaking his head, a small dose of wonder in his eyes, he said, “You are chaos.”
“I will not deny that thievery is one of my better traits. However, in this case, those men were attempting to rob me.”
“And the crown is because…?” The Villain paused, raising his hand holding the frog toward Evie as though the reason were obvious. “His name is Kingsley.”
“Congratulations, Sage, from this day forward, you are my new personal assistant.”
“Was that your first?” Evie interrupted, unable to process all this new information in an efficient manner. The boss’s head knocked back in surprise. “My first what, you little tornado?” “Your first joke.”
“I’ll remind you that, at your bequest, I haven’t actually killed an intern in several months.”
“Sir, I hate to belittle your successes, but there are people who go their entire lives without killing anyone.” His face remained serious. “How dull.”
That familiar, annoying buoyancy whirled through him, making him feel vile things like joy and the unmistakable need to laugh.
He sighed and tried to come back to who he was before this natural disaster of a person entered his hemisphere. You are evil incarnate. The world fears the very mention of your name. A cold-blooded killer. A sudden, small squeak came out of her, sounding suspiciously like a sneeze. She looked up at him sheepishly. He was a puddle on the floor, and every speck of dust in that room was his enemy.
He cursed again, gripping the windowsill until his knuckles turned white, but his heart wouldn’t slow. As if insisting on reminding him that he had one.
“No. I have a condition where my tear ducts produce an excess of warm, salty water when I’m tired or in distress.”
“I am going to regret this with an alarming intensity, but what were you expecting?”
“Where can we talk privately?” he asked his brother. “A creative way to put attempting murder, but since we’re blood and you have a beautiful woman to entertain, I suppose I’ll oblige.”
And then Becky busted through the door. Honestly, it was like the woman had a bell go off anytime someone was feeling joy.
He was happy… How positively vile.
When it comes to the thing one loves most, Trystan thought before running out in the open toward the grate, the sounds of Sage’s screaming protests behind him, it is always better to be trapped together than free and apart.
“By the gods, sir! If you insist on continuing to sneak up behind me like that, I’m going to force you to wear a bell.”
He was an intelligent person—figuring out the mechanics of affectionate touches shouldn’t have been so difficult.
The Villain came to an unbidden realization then, so completely tragic that his mind tried to reject the words. But they were there, so plainly it was almost comical. He was in love with her.
Of all the foolish, horrific things he’d ever accomplished, falling in love with a woman he so completely didn’t deserve made the top of his list.
Evie waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, she’ll be fine. Evil never dies.” The Villain snorted, and they continued deeper into the wood. “From your mouth to the gods’ ears, Sage.”
“Sage, I don’t mean to burst whatever sort of morally gray bubble you’ve put me in. But
