Apprentice to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #2)

by Hannah Nicole Maehrer

the woman was unbreakable. He’d tried everything, and not short of murder—he’d done that, too. But even a body on her desk didn’t make her or her wretched smile falter. No matter what tasks he threw her way, no matter the danger or the disgust they should’ve evoked, she smiled. And worse yet, she stayed. Her persistent presence inspired a feeling that he couldn’t figure out for the life of him.

Her bright-green skirts covered in little flowers swirled around her as she cast the full force of her joy at him. He almost ducked.

Hopelessness was a horrid feeling, not to mention a useless one. But he felt hope leech away as he dropped to his knees for the second time that day. He groaned, missing indifference, missing smothering his feelings like banking a fire. It was preferable to the burning eating at his insides. But he’d been powerless against indifference with Sage. He knew that now, just as he knew—prickling awareness raised the hairs on his neck—he knew he wasn’t alone in this room.

And he would see her again. It would be a disaster, of course. The way he would take perverse delight in her face flushing with anger and her nose scrunching. How she’d yell at him, and then the flush would go all the way down her chest, dipping below her bodice, at which time, naturally, he’d be distracted by it and stop listening. She’d notice and yell at him some more. He couldn’t wait.

He’d foolishly believed that if he ruined with purpose, it could never happen by accident again. That being The Villain would save him.

“Necromancy! Dark magic! She’s a witch!” The cries came from a noblewoman in a feathered gown who was swooning against her escort, gripping his arm. The pride Evie felt at the words was disconcerting, but she let herself relish it anyway. When one spent their entire life feeling weak, it was quite thrilling to be viewed as a threat.

“You are weak and surrounded by enemies, you thoughtless girl.” She was afraid, but she knew now: fear usually meant you were standing on the edge of something new, something self-altering, something potentially good. Fear was not something she would shy away from ever again.

Every inch was made to keep people away. It shouldn’t have surprised him that none of that had fazed her, that it had utterly failed against her impenetrable ability to spin the ugly into something not only amusing, but worth loving.

Whether their attraction was mutual or not, the boss was clearly too weighed down by professionalism to act on any lurid thoughts, and she’d just have to live with that. The way one lived with a fork through a lung.

There was only the merest hint of hesitation in his voice as he said, “Are we going over, then?” He would follow her off a cliff without question. And Evie knew she was in love with him. Right then, right there. She could only hope the final piece of her plan was still in place…

sure missed your foreboding speeches, sir; my nightmares didn’t have nearly as much fodder while you were away.”

I’m the one meant to ensure all hope is lost, not that hope still endures.” There was a vulnerability in his voice, which cracked at her heart like an ice pick against a glacier.

“There is nothing written in any text, gods-created or not, that says we cannot be more than one thing. You’ve been told for a very long time that you are made for destruction, but there is nothing that says you cannot be more. You can be capable of bad and do good. You can do good things and still be bad. Nothing is set in stone, and if it helps, I’ll stand by you no matter who you choose to be.” A ragged, self-deprecating laugh left his lips. “Why?” She couldn’t reveal the real reason without throwing them both completely off their axes, so she merely said, “Because I like who you are, not what you’re capable of.”

“Does your mind live in the gutter?” She shook her head, tapping a finger against her lips. “No, but it rents there on occasion.”

He didn’t have time to ruminate on Sage and her shocking act of violence. But he would anyway, because there was no one he liked to torture quite as much as himself.

Something dark glittered in her light eyes. “But he didn’t hurt me, sir.” Her lip twitched. “I hurt him.” Goose bumps rose on his arms, and he was grateful his long sleeves covered them. He shouldn’t be proud of the wickedness emanating off her like a dark aura, should be trying to distance her from him lest he taint her good nature any further. And he would—he had to.

do not smile when I don’t feel like it.” Lyssa blinked, surprised. “Why not?” “Because we are always expected to plaster a grin on our faces even when we don’t wish to. I used to do it so often, I stopped being able to tell when I was smiling for me or for someone else. So now, I don’t smile unless I’m one hundred percent sure it’s something I want to do, not something someone else wants me to do.” She smoothed a lock of hair away from Lyssa Sage’s face. “And you shouldn’t, either.”

Just because you bury your bad experiences behind revenge schemes and scorn doesn’t mean that I must join you in your misery. Being a cynic doesn’t make you wise. It makes you a coward.”

“Greed. Humans desire to take; they rarely seek to give. The magic of this world knows this and is beginning to hide to protect itself. The book was written to save it when that time comes.”

“You know as well as I, Trystan Maverine, that humans demonize what they cannot understand. It isn’t our job to educate them, just to live the way we’re meant to with the knowledge that being called a monster does not make you one.”

It wasn’t that her knees were weak; it was just that her body was tired of holding the weight of all the realizations.

Gods, at this rate, there should be an incident board for her tears. It’s been zero days since Evie’s last sob.

She blinked up at him. His dark eyes weren’t angry, and they weren’t full of censure; they were full of mirth. He was trying to make her laugh, to lighten her heart. The way she always tried to do for him, the way she tried to do for everyone. Nobody had ever done that, had ever tried to lighten things for her.

But her sister had asked a very honest and direct question, and Evie knew she would rather gently guide her through the truths of the world than have her thrown in the deep end to learn on her own, as Evie had.

Losing someone didn’t mean the end; it merely meant the beginning of the life you’d lead without them, the beginning of letting in the people you’d gain in their stead.

She loved destinations; it was the journey that always seemed to stifle her.

This was one of the most marvelous mysteries about Sage—that she so readily handed out praise but it was always so specific. Like she found her favorite part of every person she came across and then presented it to them. It made him want to ask what she liked about him.

felt like there were two versions of herself at war. One who was screaming at the top of her lungs with rage and anger and the other sitting quietly, hurting deeply, waiting for someone to notice. To care.

said he couldn’t bear to look at them, but now she wondered if his motives were less romantic and more nefarious. It was always that way, she pondered. When someone revealed themselves to be something worse than what you thought, you were then tasked with sorting through what good parts within them were real, if any.

It had occurred to her many times over that “impossible” was merely a word people used to describe limitations they wished for you to adhere to, so you wouldn’t upset the balance.

But she stayed in place, arms locked, fear coursing through her at the possibility of losing any of the softness she had left. She didn’t want to be hardened by her experiences—she wanted to defy them by remaining just as she was. Kind, gentle, forgiving. How could there be a way forward? How could she do this without losing those parts?

watching her boss, whom she’d seen in different states of violence—from torture to arson himself, to breaking bones, breaking hands, hanging heads… She could go on. But this man was different—or perhaps he was the same, just softer, safer. He rubbed lightly at the soot spots on Lyssa’s cheeks until the black had transferred to the handkerchief and he was standing, tucking it back into his pocket. “There you are,” he said with a heartbreaking grin. Or rather, heart-mending. Like with that one small act, he’d taken a needle and thread to the two broken pieces of Evie, slowly pulling her back together, slowly making her whole.

atrocity of kindness

It was a terrible feeling to be angry with someone and want to comfort them at the same time, and she wished that her brother would be just a bit more awful so she wouldn’t feel the need.

At this point, he was collecting weaknesses like deranged little knickknacks.

Destiny spoke again, interrupting them. “You would offer your most precious possession to save such twisted evil?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve suffered more at the hands of those who claim to be good than those who are deemed to be evil.” She held the dagger up high. “Take it.” “No.” The Villain’s face was seething with anger. “No, Sage. You cannot argue your way out of ancient magic. As convincing as you think yourself, you cannot defy natural law. Take the deal and get out of here.” He turned to the light now. “I’m evil,” he told destiny. “I’ve killed countless people, tortured a dozen more for information, and tormented and struck fear into the hearts of nearly every person in Rennedawn—and likely the whole of the continent, too. I shouldn’t pass any test of goodness.” Evie interrupted him by clapping a hand over his mouth. “He’s like a teddy bear that got hold of a kitchen knife.”

think I’ve gone most of my life without any sort of structure, and when you presented it so steadfastly, my first instinct was to hate it. But that isn’t fair, especially when it’s come to make me feel so secure and safe. Most of my life, I’ve been attempting in haphazard ways to fashion myself into a safe person for others, but I hardly realized when someone else was trying to be that for me.”

“Let me be clear, then. My entire existence is getting to organize and order people about. It is my dream come true, and I would never want to do anything else. I have the highest salary and command a level of fear and respect I only ever dreamed of accruing. I am content where I am—and just to clear any remaining doubt…” Evie leaned closer as Becky said in a hushed tone, “There was no villain’s assistant position…until he met you.”

She ached for Evie at this terrible news, and she knew their mission to her family’s home had ended in failure, but still: she finally felt free of her burdens. Of perfection, of expectation, of being anything other than herself. Her family loved her, and one day she would return to claim her place as heir to the Fortis Family Fortress. But for now, she would remain Becky in HR. And she would be happy.

It was the one beautiful thing Evie could find in this mess: being held by siblings who had been hurt by the same set of hands that had hurt her. She would never be known like that by anyone else.

The pain of betrayal and loss might never be gone, but at least her sister had been thoroughly assured that she was safe, treasured, and loved. Evie