Evie

Once again, they were without any leads.

The ride home was solemn, quiet. Evie ignored the burning pain in her stomach from holding herself upright on the horse and the itching chafe of her thighs. It was odd how discomfort could be ignored when a greater problem presented itself. Her mind was wandering too far away, and Tatianna and Clare’s bad news wasn’t helping.

“The innkeeper said the enchantress who resided in the village hasn’t been seen in eleven years,” Tatianna said, flicking a braid over her shoulder, barely breaking a sweat.

The boss was gripping the reins of his black stallion tightly, all cool composure, almost like he was making an effort not to look at Evie. That was fine—she’d likely never make eye contact with him again anyway.

“Well, that’s wildly unhelpful,” The Villain grumbled. “Is that all the information you obtained?”

Clare looked freakishly like her brother, avoiding eye contact with Tatianna as she spoke, spine rigid. “The enchantress resides in the southern kingdom now, Trystan. Imprisoned by the king and queen for killing the crown prince.”

There was a fierce, unsettling look that passed among all three of them. Even Kingsley, whose expression was normally sweet and innocent, seemed…sharper. She was missing something, and watching them quietly communicate with their eyes made Evie feel even more like an outsider.

Tatianna seemed to notice the frown pulling at Evie’s lips, because she continued speaking where Clare had left off, looking at Evie to include her in the conversation. A kindness. “In any case, the innkeeper mentioned the enchantress’s daughter as another viable option. She was just a girl when she and her mother were in the Heart Village, but she’d be an adult now—

twenty or so. Children of such powers usually inherit.” Kingsley perked up, and he stared at Tatianna.

Trystan shook his head. “We do not have the time to traipse through the southern kingdom on a whim. There must be a better solution.”

Tatianna gave a shallow nod. “Yes, sir. We’ll keep looking.”

They rode on in silence, but Evie couldn’t seem to pull her eyes from Kingsley, who she’d think, if she didn’t know any better, looked quite sad.

…

The night grew dark as they neared the manor. Tatianna and Clare, upon their return, opted to investigate the growing manor concealment issue tomorrow, and the rest of them convened in the kitchens to plan out the next steps in finding Nura. The boss had donned a shirt, tragically, and Evie herself had changed into a comfortable pair of heels to help her stand taller and a warm red wool gown, still feeling chilled from the water and from the revelations of the day.

The smell of fresh pie crust lightened her mood as she wandered into the cozy kitchen space, smiling at her favorite window. Blade lifted a mug of cauldron brew in greeting from where he stood stiffly next to Gideon, who was sipping the brew and wincing at the taste.

“You get used to it,” Becky reassured him, downing her cup in heaving gulps. Gideon looked at her like she had several heads. And Blade glared at Gideon like he wanted to remove his. That was…new.

“You’ve returned! Wonderful! Just in time for pie,” Edwin called, turning toward them. A white chef’s hat sat precariously upon his blue head, and his small glasses had a slight fog on the lenses from the oven’s heat. His cheeks were flushed to a deep purple as he put plate after plate on the wood table, each with a piece of gooey apple pie.

“Welcome back, conquering heroes!” Gideon grinned, looking far too at home in an office he’d not been at yet a week, but he shrank when he saw the boss’s glare. “Or conquering…villains? I’ll stop talking.”

“Thank the gods,” The Villain muttered, yanking out a chair and gesturing to Evie. “Sage? A seat?”

Her cheeks matched her dress as she sat down, aware that every eye in the room was on the gesture. They couldn’t read what had happened between Evie and her boss as the waters rose around them…could they?

Please kiss me.

She almost put her hands over her ears and screamed.

Lyssa turned away from the stove, fawning in dreamy delight. “He’s such a gentleman!”

Blade chuckled in the corner, taking a sip of cauldron brew, then mumbling under his breath, “Oh, sure, when he’s not severing heads and plucking eyeballs.”

But of course, Lyssa heard, because ten-year-olds seemed to hear none of the things they were supposed to and all the things they shouldn’t.

“I saw an eyeball in the hallway! It was huge!” Lyssa screeched with a little hop, just as Edwin plopped a tiny chef’s hat on her head.

Blade winced. “Oh no.”

“Lyssa! We have cinnamon rolls to prep,” Edwin said cheerily, giving Evie a wink, and she mouthed a quiet thank you for the distraction.

“Has there been any change to the map, sir?” Evie asked, gently pulling the velvet pouch from her pocket and reaching two fingers inside.

The Villain grimaced before striding to the hall and dragging the large map-that-was-once-his-desk to the table. No longer glowing, no longer marked in any way. “I’m afraid the stardust wore off.”

Her fingers halted on something cold and hard inside the pouch. She frowned and looked up. “It can wear off?”

The Villain set the large, useless slab off to the corner. “Apparently so. We do have a small thimbleful left. We could take a chance and pour it on to see if it lights up with another lead.”

The object inside the pouch was pointed on one end, with a textured surface, and Evie felt her heart stutter as she dumped the contents into her palm.

Becky wandered over, looking at the object with confusion. “What is that?”

“It’s from my mother.”

In Evie’s palm laid a large corner piece of a gold frame that had been broken away. It was lavish, with swirled inlays she remembered tracing as a little girl… Evie quickly turned it over and stiffened when she read what was etched on the back.

Property of the Sage Family

Gideon almost dropped his cup as he moved closer. “I recognize this.”

The Villain’s ears perked up. “You do?”

Gideon held out a hand to Evie. “May I hold it, Eve?”

She licked her lips and dropped the gold chunk into his waiting palm. While Gideon inspected it, Evie untied the scroll affixed to the ribbon. Her fingers went to her lips when she read the words etched there. Find me here, hasibsi. I’ll be safe. I’ll be with my friend.

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she rubbed a hand down her cheek. “Her friend?” She looked up to her brother. “Gideon?”

“This is from a painting in our house, Eve. Father had a ton of these frames, remember? Got them all specially made from a vendor in the village for Mama’s birthday, for her art collection.”

The words pulled a memory from the depths of her brain, like it had been archived until this moment. Her mother had loved art, had loved portraits and landscapes of people and places that held meaning to her, but her father had put nearly all of them into storage when her mother disappeared. He 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.

“Are you implying she could’ve been in our village the whole time? With the vendor? Were they friends?”

Gideon shrugged, handing the frame piece back to her. “If that’s what the note says, it’s possible.”

“Then we must find the vendor at once! We’ll go to the village, and we can ask—” She leaped up but was interrupted by the boss’s heavy hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down in her seat.

“Sage, you aren’t going anywhere. You’re a wanted woman, as you so joyously celebrated. If you go to your village asking questions, you’ll be arrested and taken into custody.”

There was a stab of defiance in her gut at being told what she could or couldn’t do. Even if it was reasonable, even if he was right. “I can be subtle,” she argued, setting her chin in a stubborn line, climbing to her feet, and removing his hand from her shoulder.

“You are as subtle as a battering ram,” The Villain responded dryly, his jaw tightening.

Gideon winced, and Blade took a hearty step back. Lyssa and Edwin

seemed to be purposely ignoring them, hands pushing dough to and fro.

Evie wouldn’t let him do this—bar her from continuing this investigation, cutting her out now when they were getting so close. He may have soundly rejected her in the cell, but she would not allow him to reject her here, professionally. “Sir, I plead with you to see reason. Don’t leave me out of this.” There was warning in her words, in the lift of her brow, in the upper tilt of her red lips. All these signs were a reflection of the anger pooling in her stomach like poison.

A lighthearted smirk curved his mouth, and it made her want to knock a fist into his smug face. “Come now, Sage. Pleading is beneath you.”

She reeled back with a gasp.

Gideon slapped a hand to his head, and Blade pulled his body away like he had wandered too close to a fire.

Kingsley hopped up on the table, holding a sign. DANGER.

Evie was too shocked by the offense to say anything at first, just parted her lips, her words stifled by hurt that he’d so readily harp on her vulnerable request that she’d made when they were near death. He even had the nerve to furrow his brow in confusion when he read the pain on her face—and beyond that, to act surprised, eyes wide as he sliced a hand through the air.

“Sage, no, that isn’t at all what I—”

“I don’t care what you say. Your judgment nearly got us killed in that cellar; I’m hardly going to adhere to it now. I’m coming.” A vein throbbed in her head, along with a pounding in her temples. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes narrowed into slits.

The Villain recovered quickly, huffing an incredulous laugh. “No, you are not. I will go alone and bring back whatever information I find.”

She let out a growl of frustration. “You’re wanted, too! You’ll be arrested on the spot!”

“No I won’t, Sage.” He crossed his arms. “I have death magic. Anyone who recognizes me beneath my hood will find themselves face-first in the dirt.”

“I’m going!” she screamed, not trying to temper herself any longer.

He glared at her, starting to shake, too. “No, you are not! It’s too dangerous!”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” she cried.

His hands flew in the air in a frustrated gesture. “I am your employer! I absolutely can!” He turned to Becky. “Right, Ms. Erring?”

Becky was already out the door, waving behind her as she yelled, “Nope, not getting involved in this. Goodbye!”

The boss frowned, losing some steam as he turned back toward Evie. “You’ll remain here. You…you aren’t needed for this. My decision is final.” He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d literally reached over and slapped her across the face. Her entire life was being needed—it was her value; it was her feeble placeholder in this world. She was his assistant. Not being needed by him was robbing her of her purpose. It was cruel, and he knew it.

He’s The Villain, Evie.

The reminder didn’t calm her anger at all. She merely managed to stop her body’s shaking as she smiled dangerously. The boss gulped, and Kingsley held up a sign that read: RUN.

“Well then. As you wish, Mr. Maverine.” She curtsied dramatically. “If there’s any other way I can better assist you, please let me know.”

The boss looked wary at her formal use of his last name. “Evie…please understand…”

She looked up at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Oh, as your

assistant, I understand perfectly, sir. Don’t give it another thought.”

As she turned and glided from the room, she heard Blade’s voice call to her. “Evie, hold on!”

She turned around and snapped, “What do you want?” and then immediately regretted it. Her anger wasn’t with him. She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Blade. I’m not good company when I’m upset. It’s just that I feel so— And he just—”

Blade grinned, taking her gently by the arm. “There are two animals downstairs with a similar affliction. Why don’t we go say hello? It’ll make you feel better.”

Unlikely, but she allowed him to guide her all the way down to the cellars anyway.

Both guvres seemed content. Blade had just fed them, and the male curled his beautiful, colorful body over the female protectively as Evie inched closer to the bars, smiling at them. Wondering quietly to herself why looking at such deep devotion made her chest ache painfully.

“I wonder what it’s like to be happy like that. So content, together with the one you love,” Evie whispered, but the cellar was quiet enough that she might as well have yelled it. She glanced at Blade, but he stared ahead with a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah. I wonder that, too. I wonder all the time.”

Evie leaned her head against Blade’s arm, and he glanced down at her. “The boss was unwise for not letting you go, Evie. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t answer, just shrugged before patting his arm in farewell and making her way back up the stairs.

The ache in her chest didn’t waver, but she’d keep it—it was fuel. Her heels clicked off the stone hallway as she strutted forward, comforted by the knowledge that Trystan Maverine was about to find out just how unwise it was.