Page 59 of Apprentice to the Villain

Lyssa Sage did not take her prickly attitude to heart. In fact, the girl seemed fueled by the censure as she took another big bite.

“I’ll have one, Lyssa, if there’s extra,” Gideon said. Lyssa tentatively picked one up from her small tray and handed it to her older brother.

Gideon took a bite and made a show of almost falling over, holding tight to Becky’s desk for balance. “Holy gods! This is the best cookie I’ve ever had.”

Lyssa looked shy, but her smile was enormous.Well played, sir knight. “Really?”

Gideon nodded and winked at Becky just as Blade rounded the corner of the courtyard entrance, shirtless, covered in sweat and dirt, his tanned, muscled stomach glistening—and her mouth watered again for different, much more embarrassing reasons. He should’ve disgusted her, but he didn’t. He never really had, if she was honest.

But of course, she could never admit this. She didn’t believe in office fraternization, office friendships, or anything outside of professional distance. “You look vile, Mr. Gushiken—go bathe immediately.”

Another voice screeched through the office. “Ms. Erring, the interns are going to kill each other!”

She groaned.And this is why. “What is it this time, Marvin?” she asked as the front-gate guard rushed in, pointing toward theascending staircase.

“They’re fighting in the mess hall! One of them found a way to repair the barrier, and they’re fighting over who gets to present it to you and the boss!”

She gritted her teeth. “And no one is trying to break it up?” Becky stood, rounding her desk and listening at the base of the stairs. She heard nothing but raucous screams. “Are they…cheering?”

Marvin winced. “There have been bets placed on who will win.”

The intern pool was made up almost entirely of disgraced noblemen’s children. All spoiled, all insufferable. In a different time, she’d let them tear one another apart. But if there was one thing she took incredibly seriously, it was her role as the head of Human Resources. She was here to be a resource to all humans and magical creatures alike, no matter how irritating.

She pulled out her desk drawer, grabbed her gold letter opener, then headed for the stairs.

“Ms. Erring? Shall I send for the Malevolent Guard?”

“No need, Marvin,” she said, walking past a skeptical Blade. “I’ll handle it myself.”

A warm hand closed over her arm; she turned and saw Blade’s whiskey eyes, his brown hair pulled back in a half bun. “Stop, lovely Rebecka. I’ll go. What are you going to do? Alphabetize them?”

She smirked, pulling her arm from his grip and starting up the stairs.

“Something like that.”

Chapter 34

The Villain

“Do you think you could get one of your hands up my skirt?”

The noise Trystan made behind the gag was meant to behuh?but instead, his all-too-befuddled reply was much closer to“herg?”

“To get the dagger strapped to my thigh,” she clarified, licking her lips and rolling back her shoulders, bringing her chest up at an enticing angle.

He decided it would be easier to blame the sound on his dry throat than the memory of Sage’s breasts that was seared into his brain for all eternity. His heart rate increased, and he shut his eyes to clear the black spots forming at the edges of his vision. When he opened them, Sage was staring at him with a concerned furrow to her dark brows. With a flick of his neck, he motioned for her to slide closer, maneuvering awkwardly to lift the hem of her skirt. She sucked in a gasp, and he pretended not to hear it or the harsh breathing coming out of his flared nostrils.

The sound of the fabric sliding up her leg was far more sensual than it should’ve been, the rustle of cotton against bare skin something he knew would be a source of torment for him later. His calloused fingers slid up the subtle softness of her thigh until they hit the leather strap, and all the while he kept his eyes tightly shut.

It was less likely she’d see the yearning that way.

A muffled cry of victory left his lips when he slid the dagger free, but he nearly dropped it when it burned the daylights out of his hand. Grimacing in pain, he made quick work of cutting his binds and spitting out the gag, then tossed the demon dagger to the ground. “What the blazes!” He held tight to his palm—there was a searing burn there, like he’d put his hand to a hot stove. “Does it burn you every time you touch it?”

She looked at him quizzically, eyeing the burn with a frown. “No, it feels good when I hold it. Like it’s warming me.”

Bracing himself, he gripped the handle and sliced through her binds, dropping the dagger as soon as she was free. “Whatever magic it was imbued with must repel mine.” That, or even weaponry was beginning to turn on him.

Sage rubbed at the rope burn on her wrists, then held her palms out flat. The dagger took the invitation, jumping into her hand like a hound greeting its master.Absurd.