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17kNovel > Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain Book 3) > Accomplice to the Villain: Chapter 39

Accomplice to the Villain: Chapter 39

    Evie


    Evie was on top of Trystan.


    Her eyes weren’t even open when she realized this. She could smell him, could feel the solidness of his chest and the strength in his arms and the beat of his heart. There was no need to guess, but when she opened her eyes and looked at his face, it was nice to confirm.


    Wait.


    She pinched herself. “Ow!” All right, I’m awake. He was still unconscious, but his breaths were even, his face rxed. Peaceful in sleep, and Evie fell in love with him all over again with a mere nce. The furrow between his brows was soft, his lips lightly parted, no signs of anger or even indifference.


    “So pretty.” Sheughed softly to herself at the memory of when she’d called him that when they first met. She couldn’t have helped it that day, either. She lifted a hand, cing it against his cheek, and it was slight, but she felt his cheek move harder against her palm.


    “I wouldn’t describe him as such, but what do I know?” A voice came from the other end of the wide basket, and Evie yelped, flying backward and knocking against the basket wall. The entire thing rocked back and forth with a force that made stomach acid rise in her throat.


    “Who are you? What is this?” She felt around for her dagger, but her thigh strap was empty, causing her heart to beat triple-time in her chest.


    The man smiled at her, but it didn’t look at all inviting despite his handsome features. “Are you looking for that lovely little dagger, sweet?”


    He took two steps forward, and she stood on unsteady legs until she was in front of Trystan’s still-unconscious body. It would’ve looked ridiculous to an outside viewer: The Viin lying supine and unconscious while his apprentice stood sentry over him. His apprentice, who didn’t reach more than a few inches above five feet tall and likely looked as intimidating as adybug.


    Evie, of course, was terrified ofdybugs, but that was neither here nor there.


    If a bug that small could be scary, so could she.


    The man took a gant bow, his long coat billowing in the breeze. “Lord Edmund Fowler, mydy. Your humble servant.”


    She smiled, feeling off-kilter and oddly charmed by the gentleman’s polite greeting.


    Lord Fowler?


    “You’re one of The Viin’s allies, and you drugged us?”


    The lord was unfazed by this usation, appearing almost delighted by it, actually. “Yes, of course! You were on your way here anyhow, weren’t you? For my wand?”


    Before Evie could ask how he knew that piece of information, the lord pulled a lever below the small me, keeping therge white balloon overhead floating in… Oh no. Evie took a subtle peek over the side and felt her stomach bottom out to her toes. They were so high in the air she couldn’t see the ground. Just dark sky and a cluster of stars surrounding them.


    The Viin stirred behind her, and Evie prayed he’d awaken soon. There was no way she could protect them both on her own, and though she considered herself much stronger than she once was, she was also a realist. The unfair smallness of her stature would likely be nothing against this man’s obvious strength; he was bigger than her and therefore a threat.


    And right there was the injustice of the worldid out in the inest terms.


    She had to y this the right way. The only way she knew how.


    With distracting sweetness.


    Dipping into a light, off-center curtsy due to the rocking basket, Evie smiled demurely at the gentleman. “Evie Sage, my lord. What an honor to be presented to nobility under such…” Dire, desperate, disastrous? Good grief, that was too much alliteration. She finished wincing. “Such unique circumstances.”


    Lord Fowler took her hand and bowed over it. “A pleasure to finally be introduced to The Wicked Woman. I apologize if the sedative left you feeling groggy. I asked my men to ensure they got you all to my home as gently as possible.”


    Evie nodded solemnly. “I’ve always found sedation to be so.”


    Lord Fowler pulled the lever below the me again, and they sailed higher, sending Evie falling into the wall of the basket, gripping one of the ropes so she didn’t spill over the side.


    What a time to have a terrible center of gravity.


    “The Viin is a hard man to pin down,” Lord Fowler said with a good-naturedugh.


    “I’ve never had trouble doing it,” she blurted. Were the effects of the drug still wearing off? Or was it just the damn altitude making her thoughts fall out of her head like her mind was being used as a saltshaker?


    Lord Fowler seemed amused by the innuendo, however, as he scanned her—not in a leering manner but a curious one. “That, my dear, is evident. I had my men ce you side by side one moment, and the next The Viin was clutching the back of your head to his chest, muttering something about taking you on a pic.”


    Even amid her panic and worry, Evie grinned. “Outside dinner, my arse.”


    Fowler continued. “At first I thought he’d awoken too soon, but it appears it was something subconscious on his part.”


    “Were you watching us this whole time?” she used, her lip curling in disgust now. “You creep!”


    He held up a quelling hand. “I’m no creep, Ms. Sage. I only observed for thest half hour and only for the sake of curiosity.”


    “If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…” She folded her arms, and he chuckled.


    It pissed her off.


    She began walking around him to the other side of the basket, hands still sped behind her back as she stared at the night sky, noticing that the brightest one she used to watch and wish on with such reverence was no longer there. That star was now human, sitting back at the manor, and the only thing Evie had wished upon her before leaving was to be left alone.


    “Ms. Sage, I can sense your distress, but as The Viin’s assistant, surely you’ve heard of his business dealings with me?” Lord Fowler asked, backing Evie up until she hit the edge. So distracted by her was he, the lord didn’t notice Evie was slowly forcing him to turn in the other direction, away from her boss’s supine form.


    Until a strong arm banded around Fowler’s neck from behind and squeezed, a cool voice breaking the silence and raising gooseflesh on her arms. “Apprentice.”


    Formerly supine form.


    “Ah! Viin, you’re awake. Excellent!” Lord Fowler did not seem distressed in the slightest that the kingdom’s greatest foe had his arm wrapped around his neck and, judging by the bulging vein in her boss’s forehead, he was mere seconds from squeezing until Fowler turned blue.


    “Apprentice.” Trystan repeated the word, somehow managing to make it sound more scathing than he had the first time. “Address her properly or I throw you over the edge and watch as you hit the earth.”


    Swoon.


    Oh, wait, that’s bad. Too high up. No swooning.


    Not right now, at least.


    Lord Fowler smiled his deference at Evie. “Apprentice, of course.” He nodded in a gesture of respect. “Congrattions on the promotion, my dear.” She waved back awkwardly, unsure of what else to do.


    “Sage. I’m threatening him. Stop waving.”


    “Sorry.” She halted abruptly.


    “Stop apologizing,” he ground out.


    Lord Fowler’s eyes were moving between them when he said, “Fascinating. It appears you two have something of a specialnguage.”


    “Yes,” Trystan said dryly. “It’s called irritation.”


    Evie’s hackles were raised at the slight, and she narrowed her eyes, addressing Lord Fowler but looking right at Trystan. “Exactly. He’s like a rash that won’t go away.”


    Fowlerughed heartily and angled his head back toward Trystan, as much as the grip still around the lord’s neck allowed. “Oh, Viin, she is a delight.”


    “As delightful as dragon pox,” he said tly.


    “Sexually transmitted?” Evie tapped her lip coyly.


    The Viin choked.


    She’d won.


    Fowler’s eyes gleamed. “Gods, I have half a mind to hire her out from under you, Viin.”


    Trystan didn’t say anything, just paused a moment.


    But only a moment—before casually hurling Lord Fowler over the edge.
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