Page 77 of Accomplice to the Villain

“You look so beautiful.” Evie gestured for her to spin. The healer acquiesced with a flourish, laughing a little as she did.

“Thank you.” Tatianna preened, then quickly frowned. “I shouldn’t be enjoying myself so much under the circumstances, but I do love a reason to dress up.”

“Nonsense!” Evie blew air out of her lips. “Who said a work excursion couldn’t be enjoyable?”

Tatianna raised a brow. “Becky, probably.”

With a giggle, Evie went to the wardrobe and opened it, taking her own shimmering dress in hand. “Since we’re here and these people are our allies, we may as well enjoy the party. We need to earn Lord Fowler’s wand, and unless one of us sprouts wings, we’re stuck here until he returns us to the ground.” She shifted nervously. “How high up do you think we are, anyway?”

“High enough that jumping would kill you.”

“Oh, dear.” Evie draped the dress across the large bed and patted the space beside her, motioning for Tatianna to sit. The healer did so slowly, trepidation in each step. The smile fell slowly from Evie’s lips. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it?”

Tatianna picked at her nails. “I don’t tell secrets—I keep them. But this one is eating at me, and I can’t talk to Trystan or Clare about it, so I must tell you.”

Evie’s eyes widened. “All right. Tell me. I won’t repeat it to a soul, I swear it. Let me keepyourconfidence for once.” She took Tatianna’s hand in a gesture of comfort.

The words came swiftly. “I’m afraid.”

Evie’s voice softened. “Of what, Tati?”

“Of the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

Tatianna shuddered. “I want to be with Clare again. I want to believe that she has changed. That she’s no longer under her mother’s thumb. But I don’t know if I can trust her…”

“Oh, Tati…” Evie’s heart twisted at the pain and regret etched onto her friend’s face. “You’re being far too hard on yourself. If you and Clare are meant to find your way back to each other, you will. The trust will come in time.”

A gleam came over the healer’s dark eyes as she squeezed Evie’s hand. “Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it.”

Evie leaned in to kiss her friend’s cheek, picked up the dress, and then addressed the servant who’d just entered to do her hair. “Excuse me. I don’t think the corset is necessary. Could you help me do this up, please?” The maid hurried over with a bright grin.

“It’s see-through in some spots, Ms. Sage. You’ll make quite the splash!” The maid seemed gleeful about the prospect of this, and Evie couldn’t help but feel a little like this week’s entertainment in the Fowler household.

Tatianna watched as the dress clung to Evie’s body with each button hooked until it was done up at the top and Evie turned around. She did her own spin, feeling pretty and feminine.

Tatianna shook her head, her lips curving up. “Oh, Evie.”

Evie ran her hands down her sides, the soft fabric cool against her fingers. “What do you think?”

Now Tatianna looked to be the one enjoying the entertainment. “I think you’re going to send him to his knees.”

Evie’s smile was sinister, and she felt it when she responded demurely, “That’s the plan, dear Tati. That’s the plan.”

Chapter 43

The Villain

“I feel like a jackass,” Trystan muttered.

Clare contemplated her brother in the entry hall of Lord Fowler’s home. Her dress was spun in green and a pattern of twisted vines, small pink flowers popping up in all directions: the perfect depiction of a forest nymph. “I thought you were supposed to be a demon?”

The two creatures may as well have been synonymous for how ridiculous he felt in the getup Fowler had saddled him with. He swore on everything he hated that when Fowler released them, Trystan would return for a visit in the very near future, with Fluffy in tow.

This place would be vastly improved if it were lit on fire.

“Iama demon,” he said with the conviction of a fruit fly. “Don’t you see my scary horns?” “Scary” was not the word—“absurd” fit better. There were two sharp horns clipped so tightly to his head they may now be a permanent fixture. The red cloak they’d put him in was hardly serviceable, considering it was made of thin silk. It wouldn’t keep him warm during a heat wave. His shirt was another red, the dip in the neck lower than the shirts he wore to bed and also silk.