Page 60 of Apprentice to the Villain

She turned the blade every which way, pouting. “Well, that’s not nice.”

“It’s a tool for harm, Sage; it’s not meant to benice.”

“Shh, it’ll hear you.” She grinned. He sighed.

He went to the bars of the cell, which were rusted and old. They could be easily broken if they were lucky. He looked around the cell for a tool, but the only furniture was a spindly wooden chair and table on the other side of the bars, so brute force would have to do. While he worked on shaking them, a thought struck, and he couldn’t let it go. “When did the scar stop hurting?” he asked casually.

“When I slit Otto Warsen’s throat.” Her voice was detached, and he immediately felt a pit in his stomach—he hadn’t even asked her if she was all right yet. “The scar stopped hurting after that, but now it tingles and hums, like the piece of me the dagger absorbed answers the mark it left on my body.”

“Hmm,” he said, sounding noncommittal—one of his manytalents. The metal bars were cold beneath his hands as he angled his neck back. “You shouldn’t have had to kill him.”

Her answer was immediate and succinct. “Oh, believe me, it was my pleasure.”

Chills skittered across his spine like an icy rain, the sensation so jarring that he couldn’t be certain if it was refreshing or unpleasant.

The smell of vanilla and roses drowned out the thoughts in his mind as she came to stand next to him, her hair tickling his arm. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly, a smile on her face he’d begun to recognize as false, as much a mask as the hard lines of his mouth. “I survived. Now, move. Let me try.” She angled her arm up and brought the dagger down. The two metals reverberated off each other, but no breaks occurred, just an unpleasant clanging—and the bars heating the way the dagger had.

Trystan released them with a yelp, shaking out his hands. Sage winced, dropping the dagger to grab his hand, but when she stepped forward, her heel caught on the discarded rope that had once bound his wrists. Her foot slipped, hitting the weakest part of his ankle and bending it as they both grappled for balance and failed.

Sage fell first, and he fell after her. Ontopof her.

Her body was warm and curved beneath his, his hard muscle flush with her softness. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, gasping. “Did I crush you?”

Her lids were drooped, her eyes on his mouth. He should move—she was likely still under the effects of the flower, and Trystan’s brand of villainy in no way extended to women who were too inebriated to know what they were doing. He’d sooner sever his hands from his wrists.

But he was too late.

The door to the basement cellar flew open and slammed against the wall, causing his body to curl protectively over her.

“I heard we caught The Villain! And— Oh, am I interrupting?”

This wasn’t one of the deep voices from before but a light, slightly raspy voice, whose next words made Sage go rigid beneath him. “Evie, is that you?”

A young woman stood in the doorway. Her dark-brown brows arched against golden-brown skin, radiant as she stepped out of the shaded doorway and into the dimly lit space. Her eyes were the color of burnished gold and lined with kohl, giving them a catlike appearance, and her long brown hair—even longer than Evie’s—was pin-straight and shiny as she pushed it behind one ear.

Sage shoved him, and he moved immediately, helping her to her feet.

His assistant stared at the woman, mouth open. “Helena?”

Helena, the woman in question, stretched her lips into a full, menacing grin.

“It’s been a long time…little cousin.”

Chapter 35

Evie

“What are you doing here?” Evie asked incredulously.

She hadn’t seen or heard from her cousin in years. She remembered so well how she used to wait by the mailbox for Helena’s letters every day, just in case a new reply to her missives arrived, but after two years, she’d had to give up hoping.

Helena glided toward the bars, dressed in a lovely sapphire gown that floated behind her as she took a seat in the room’s only rickety old chair. She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “I work here.” Her cousin’s eyes flitted to her and then her boss, keen interest playing in them. “And what areyoudoing here?” The finger stopped tapping her chin and now pointed around the cell.

Suddenly, Evie felt angry—soangry. She’d had no idea Helena ended up in the Heart Village, had no idea she worked in a playhouse, had no idea ofanythingher cousin was doing. Because she’d simply disappeared, like everyone else in her life.

“You didn’t hear?” she asked with an eye roll. “I had too much to drink and tried to strip naked on your stage.”

Her boss choked behind her, slamming a fist against his chest. He’d been doing that a lot—perhaps she should have Tatianna make him something for heartburn.