Page 91 of Adversary to the Villain

Evie hiccupped, staring at Marvin and then Roland. “But they look fine.”

Marv preened. “Thank you, Ms. Sage.”

“Marv, I urge you to set a higher bar for compliments.” She offered the advice with a healthy dose of wariness. Her instincts were tempting her to be friendly with the front gate guard who’d betrayed them.

It was then she remembered their purpose in sending Marv off. “I’m sorry—is the poison…?”

Roland sighed. “Under control but not cured.” He looked at Marv intently, deeply, reaching for his hand with a subtle brush of his thumb, eyes softening. “Not yet.”

Marv turned bright red, and Evie allowed herself to delight in it.

Raphael, on the other hand, was not in a patient or romantic mood.

His dark brows turned down, his mouth hardened. “Evie, something terrible is about to happen. We had to warn you.”

“Must you?” Evie strained against a smile. “I love surprises.”

Roland fiddled with his glasses, nervousness evident in his tone. “It can’t wait, Evie.”

“Well, it must be bad if you dragged yourselves all the way here.” She saw terror somewhere in the man’s movements, in the darting of his eyes. “How did you even know where to find me?”

Raphael removed his helmet, pushing down his hair, then tugged a folded parchment from his pocket and handed it over to her. “My mother was sending these out to people under our protection.”

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

THE TRUE VILLAIN

EVIE SAGE

MAGIC THIEVERY

MURDER

TREASON

This time, when Evie looked upon the etching of the woman portrayed there, she didn’t see many differences between them.

“They’ll need a longer scroll if I keep collecting accolades.” She said this with a smile, ignoring the lurching in her stomach. She’d had a cask of gin; of course her stomach was uneasy.

Gin did wonderful, horrible things.

“There is a whisper network of loyalists working with Benedict, and they’re whispering about you.” Raphael tugged up the hood on her cloak in a familial gesture that made her miss Gideon. “They know you’re being harbored in the Heart Village. It isn’t safe.”

Nowhere was safe anymore, not when even her own body had become foreign and unpredictable. “And why are you telling me this? Out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose?” Her dubious questioning wasn’t necessarily fair. Rebecka’s brothers were not to blame for their mother’s transgressions.

“Believe what you want about my motives, but that is the truth. My mother has been growing more memory flowers for Benedict, and she no longer has any qualms about hurting Nura Sage’s daughter. It—it’s not right. Our family, the Fortises, are meant to protect against corruption and fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.” The sigh out of Raphael’s mouth was pained, his handsome face defeated as his moral pillars collapsed around him. “How far we’ve fallen.”

Evie knew that feeling well, so she placed a hand on Raphael’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “Not so very far, I think,” she said softly.

The breeze off the river, the gentle lapping of the waves, and the spray of salty water against her ankles sobered her faster than several cups of cauldron brew. Gods, she missed cauldron brew. Gods, she missed everything at the manor. Everyone.

“Get away from my cousin!” The high-pitched, slurred proclamation was delivered along with a swing of—

“Deadlands, Helena! Put down the gin bottle—you’re going to waste it.” Evie ripped the newly purchased alcohol out of her cousin’s grip, noting that Raphael had fallen onto his hands and knees to avoid the blow. “Here.” Evie gave her cousin one of her slippers. “Go nuts.”

But Helena had halted her actions, her hand still poised in the air, ready to come down hard on the man she’d perceived to be hurting Evie.

Evie was too touched to be worried Helena might kill the man.