Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1)

by Hannah Nicole Maehrer

“Relax,” he ordered again. Right. That was likely, considering a strange man, whom she was certain was the thing these men were hunting, had her pinned to the ground. But she’d sought this out, hadn’t she? She’d followed a literal river of blood—what else did she think was going to happen?

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.

There had to be a rule somewhere that evil overlords needed to be at least fifty, maybe sixty if they were pushing it. But not young! And not, even more disastrously, beautiful.

“Is there something about my face…that is displeasing to you? Or is it perhaps that I’m bleeding from three different wounds, courtesy of the men in your village?” His voice was quiet, and outwardly he appeared calm, but Evie could see a muted fury behind his dark eyes. Did he think she was judging him? “Um, yes— The blood’s not great…but I was referring to the fact that you look like you were carved out of marble, and I just think that as a rule of thumb, inherently evil people should be grotesque-looking.”

“You just can’t kill people and be pretty. It’s confusing.” Evie began unwrapping the wool scarf her little sister, Lyssa, had given her on her last birthday, stepping closer to The Villain and holding it up like a signal of peace. “For the blood, Your Evilness.”

Shaking his head, a small dose of wonder in his eyes, he said, “You are chaos.”

“Why are you bothering to keep pace with me in the first place? You could easily leave me in the dust and use the time they’re dealing with me to get away.” Yes, Evangelina. Give him reasons to leave you behind and explain why you were running with The Villain in the first place. Sign your death warrant. Well done!

“I will not deny that thievery is one of my better traits. However, in this case, those men were attempting to rob me.” The dots were connecting, just in a way that was too strange for even Evie to understand. “Rob you of…a frog…that’s wearing a crown?”

“Normal” was for those who didn’t have the ability to stretch their minds past the unreachable end.

But she feared wearing something as scandalous as trousers would draw too much attention to herself. Women? Have legs? Alert the town crier!

In Becky-speak, that translated to, I was here before you, therefore I am better than you. Behold my fearsome attendance record.

“Bend over.” Evie didn’t move. “Perhaps you could buy me dinner first.” Honestly, even a dinner at the nicest tavern wouldn’t entice her to bare her backside to the healer.

Even the most “stand-up citizens” were capable of terrifying cruelty.

“That is revolting.” Handing Evie a small capped vial, pink in color, Tatianna said, “The next time someone asks me to describe my work, that’s exactly what I’ll tell them.”

“So if I sit incorrectly…will my right ass cheek be bigger than my left?”

Drawing the tip of her shoe in nervous circles, she looked the boss directly in the eye. “Okay, before you go all brooding Earl of Darkness on me, it was a dirty dream, but I meant, like…dirty. You know, with dirt, the brown stuff. It was muddy and a carriage rolled by and splattered muck over both of us and you said, ‘Better get this washed, Sage.’”

“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.” He grunted and opened his mouth to speak, looking quite outraged, if she were being honest. “Of all the—” He paused to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Sage, do you honestly think me incapable of humor?” “Of course I don’t think that,” she said earnestly. “You hired me.”

“I speak to you for less than three minutes, and I’m more turned around than the interns during my favorite day of the week.”

“I’ll remind you that, at your bequest, I haven’t actually killed an intern in several months.” Evie shook her head hopelessly. “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 rebellious dark lock against his forehead. “She’s determined to be

“Always keep your enemies close, Sage. Life’s more interesting that way.”

“I like anticipating the good—that way it’s easier to see it…even when the bad happens.”

“That’s not my only job here, you know.” He nodded quickly. “Oh, I know. I heard from someone you’ve cut the boss’s destructive tirades down to two a week.” “I don’t let him talk to any of the interns before he’s eaten breakfast—that’s the key. He’s crabby on an empty stomach,” she said, wondering just how many of their workers’ lives were saved because of a frosted pastry.

“My patience is thin this morning, Sage.” “As opposed to every other morning, sir?”

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.

There were many beautifully designed windows throughout the manor, but this private area tucked into the corner was her favorite. The tiles were haphazardly placed in a design that altogether formed the shape of a vibrant sun shining its light down on an old book. An accurate depiction in Evie’s eyes, since a good book often felt like the same comfort as the heat of sunlight brushing your cheeks.

“Are you…crying?” He was horrified, it was so plain in his voice, and she wanted so badly to shrink away from him, but of course her injured ankle kept her locked in place. “No. I have a condition where my tear ducts produce an excess of warm, salty water when I’m tired or in distress.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be evil?” “Encouraging children to neglect their education fits under that bracket, does it not?” He tilted his head as if considering it. Plucking a stray weed from the walkway and then another, Evie said, “Where did the name Trystan come from, anyway?” “My mother, I imagine.”

After a few moments of silence that for once Evie didn’t mind, he said, “Fluffy? You looked at me and thought to yourself, He looks like a Fluffy?”

“I am, however, a little offended you trusted my sister with that information before you told me.” He seemed to come back to himself then, shaking his head, looking a bit dizzy. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you. My real name is on a small plaque on my desk.”

“If life was built on regrets, we’d have monuments the size of giants.”

“You laughed.” “I know,” Trystan said, shaking his head, hoping to knock the building ache out of it. “You’re fucked.” Trystan shoved Malcolm into the doorway, hard, before walking through and calling out behind him, “Shut up.”

This is what you get for reading books with no naughty words in them.

“Hello, Blade. Hello, Draaagon.” The last words were said on a shriek as the creature barreled toward her, only stopping when Blade stepped before him and said, “No! We don’t eat friends; we talked about this!”

“I didn’t want to put the bottoms of my shoes on your desk. I thought that would be rude,” she explained sensibly. “Yes, one must observe the proper etiquette when standing on other people’s furniture.” Evie nodded and pretended to take his sarcasm seriously. “Exactly.

“I did not ask for cauldron brew,” he said darkly. “Of course, sir, but, um, you did say to me ten minutes ago, ‘Get me a cup of brew immediately, Stuart, or I will rip the skin from your bones.’”

“You’re…sorry?” Sage’s jaw hung so low, Trystan wondered if it would catch the dirt from the ground. “Dispense with the dramatics. It’s not as if I told you I have a night-light.”

“I use a night-light for the purpose it was assigned, to make the night…lighter.”

“I am not afraid of the dark, Sage. I am The Villain—the dark fears me.” He let his chest puff out to prove his point, which only made her giggle again. “My apologies, sir,” she said contritely. “How long have you been afraid of the dark…particularly in your bedchamber?”

“Must be nice, to act completely unprofessional and be welcomed back like nothing happened.” Evie’s eyes rolled back in her head. She looked at Becky, who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Must be nice to be a judgmental shrew and have that excuse as a facet of your personality.” Evie smiled cheekily.

What could he have possibly done to deserve such wrath?” “He stepped on my foot once. Never got over it,” Trystan deadpanned.

“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.”

“Maybe you should bend over so he can have an easier time kissing your ass,”

“Do you know what I find humorous, Mr. Warsen?” There was nothing jovial in his tone at all. The storm had arrived. “That you treat your actions and choices like they are not your own.”

“I don’t run from my demons. I welcome them. I let them envelop me until I grow stronger.”

“A weak man pushes blame away from himself like a disease, to poison and spread over the rest of the unsuspecting world.”

“Kill him?” “Is that your solution to every problem?” she asked, exasperated. “No, it’s just the most effective.” “Not in this case.” Wrapping her hands about her waist, she sighed. “If we kill him, the entire village will know in a matter of hours. And if anybody saw us come in here, I would be in trouble.” “Very well. Then he will leave town.” “How are we going to get him to do that?” “Kill him and make everyone think he left town.”

“She’s beautiful,” Sage said in awe. “She’s horrifying,” he corrected. Sage shrugged, eyes taking in every gruesome part of the guvre’s body. “Oftentimes, it’s the same thing.”

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.

Adulthood should be illegal.