Page 16 of Apprentice to the Villain

Chapter 9

Evie

The crystal shattered in every direction.

Unfortunate, since one of those directions was right at Evie’s head.

Her stomach hit the floor as a large shard embedded itself in the wall directly above her, so close she could feel a whoosh of air brush her hair back as she dove.

More unfortunate still, since the candles from the chandelier had scattered and were currently catching on the drapes.

Don’t be an arsonist, Evie!

She frowned. That was a new one.

But she was snapped from her inattentive musings when the boss’s voice boomed out, closer than she would have expected. “Sage! Where in the deadlands would you get such a dangerous idea?”

She blinked up at his obscured face. “A book.”

A Valiant Guard entered his path, but it didn’t slow him a wink. With both hands, The Villain tossed the knight away like a piece of furniture, not breaking stride until he was right in front of her.

He was breathing heavily, not from the strain but from anger. “It is fiction for a reason, you menace. By the gods, what if you carried out every impossible act you read about?”

It was a rhetorical question, but she couldn’t resist the urge to slip into the normal ease of their cadence, like no time hadpassed. “Oh, I suppose that I would need to become very, um—flexible.”

An inarticulate sound left his throat, his eyes on the ceiling as he likely prayed for patience before responding, “I beg you not to elaborate.”

But when his eyes came back down, there was nothing but intensity in them. He scanned every inch of her face, and she scanned what she could of his. Suddenly, she hated the scrap of fabric of his mask; it was merely a means to keep him from her. She reached up a hand but halted—there were still guards in the room, even a few stray nobles, some watching them from their hiding places.

She couldn’t reveal him here; they’d have to wait until they were—

“Do it.”

His words were so resolute, her eyes widened in shock, her mouth gaping open like a fish.

“You think I would allow you to reveal yourself to the public in such a way and not do the same for you?” he asked.

Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession as she desperately tried not to read into the words. “Sir, really. There’s no need to feel guilty—I’m a nobody; my name means nothing. Come, we must leave at—”

His words were angrier this time. “Do it. Or I will.”

She knew his threats well enough to know when they were sincere. Which meant there was no point in arguing any further.

He urged, “Unmask me, Evangelina.”

It was impossible to not be moved by the low caress of his voice, like fingers gliding up her bare back. She was human, she had a pulse, and it beat in the worst way for someone it very much was not supposed to.

Slowly, she reached up, fingers nearly stilling when she felt his body tense at the brush of her touch. But instead of stilling, shewas spurred to move faster. She removed the mask, letting it slip through her fingers until it landed soundlessly on the floor, his face bare.

Familiar and beautiful.

Relief and comfort eased the tightness in her chest. A warm tear tracked down her cheek as she smiled shakily and said, “Hello, evil overlord.”

The Villain did not cry; she knew this. But she also knew that for the rest of her life, if she got to grow old, wasting away in a bed, recounting her adventures of working for the darkest figure in the land, she would swear to herself, even then, that she saw The Villain’s black eyes glisten.

His words finally came on the turn of his lips that, if stretched up any further, she knew would reveal…one singular dimple.

“Hello, little tornado.”