Page 90 of Apprentice to the Villain

She looked up, her nonsense wheels clearly moving. “I thinkFire Hoses for the Workplaceor something to that effect.”

Yes, he had mostdefinitelybeen referring to the hose book. Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away from her in an effort to regain his footing.

The movement caused a slab to loosen under his boot, catching him by such surprise that he lost his footing completely. Which was unfathomable enough, but then…heflailed. He didn’t think he’d ever flailed once in the span of his entire life. His ass hit the ground hard enough to rattle his skull in his head. But the slab had lifted, revealing the end of a long rubber tube.

Sage squealed, “You found it!” and clapped her hands. Then she pulled it out, holding it expertly, and her efficiency at her task, the focus on her face was…oddly arousing.

The woman could sharpen a pencil and he’d go into an apoplectic fit.

He frowned down at his position on the ground. “Sage, I fear your lack of equilibrium is catching.”

She ignored him, pulling a nozzle at the top of the hose, and water came out in a rush. As he jumped up, the force of itknocked her backward and right into his chest. His hands went up instinctively to grip her elbows, and though he couldn’t see her face, he felt her stiffen, planting her feet firmly to keep from moving. “I do not lack equilibrium,” she argued. “The ground merely lacks the courtesy of letting me know when it is coming closer.”

It was with patent disbelief that he said, “Do you think you could argue your way through anything?”

The flames were dissipating under the onslaught of water, though a few flickered still. But it wasn’t the fire that was causing all the warmth in the air. It wasn’t the sun beating down on them or the flowers coming up through the cracks in the stones that were layered throughout the back courtyard. It was Sage, looking at him with her mischievous smile and her kind eyes.

“I argued my way into this job, didn’t I?”

She said this, of course, not knowing that the job was hers the moment she’d said she needed one.

That he would’ve found a way, any way, to ease the burdens she clearly carried in her slender shoulders, in the gaunt hunch of her frame, like she had been undereating when they first met. How he’d stayed up late that first night wondering why.

There was a standing order for vanilla candies at the manor, the start date of which had been—coincidentally—the day after her first shift, after he’d seen how much she enjoyed the ones hidden in a tin atop his desk. He could use one right about now, in fact, to calm the fury that rose within him when he saw the charred wood of the back gate.

“Finish putting out the fire, Sage. I need to find who is responsible for this.”

Sage put the hose down. “No need.”

A wash of confusion swept over him, dampening his ardor for revenge—nearly ruining it, in fact. “You may do as you please, but I haven’t killed anyone in nearly a week, and I believe I amdue. The incident board misses me dearly.”

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. “You cannot injure the person responsible.”

He leaned forward menacingly, trying to take on his air of forbidding evilness. “Sage, I will do whatever I please.”

The look she gave him could only be described as a challenge, a dare. “Lyssa!” she called. “Get out herenow!”

The authority Sage commanded in that one parental order made his back straighten. Like he, too, would come running should she tell him to do so.

“It wasn’t a Valiant Guard,” Sage said with silent disappointment in her face and posture. “It was my sister.”

Chapter 54

Evie

Evie Sage had always known her parenting skills left much to be desired. It was an eternal weakness that she could never overcome. She’d taken on the caregiver role too young, at an age when her biggest problem should’ve been a difficult topic in school or worrying which of her friends was whispering about her behind her back. An age when she should have been climbing trees and making wishes, pretending the world was bright and open and fun.

She grew nostalgic at times for the childhood she’d lost too soon.

But regardless, she’d done her best to keep believing that the world held goodness, and hope, and joy, so that Lyssa might believe it, too. She perhaps leaned a bittoofar into her optimism—as a means of survival. Perhaps this wasn’t the parental presence her sister needed? Considering she was now committing arson?

Lyssa’s small, dark-haired head appeared from behind a gap in one of the back walls. “How did you know I was out here?” she asked as she rounded the wall and approached them cautiously. Her brown eyes were wide, her button nose and round cheeks covered in black soot that coated not just her face but her hands as well as the hem of her knee-length dress.

Evie lifted a finger, displaying a purple ribbon that she’d foundon the ground. “Lose something?”

Lyssa’s hand shot for the end of her braid as she realized the strip of silk was missing. “Rats! The first rule of villainy: never leave evidence behind.”

Evie’s boss smothered a laugh beside her. She gave him an incredulous look, and the laughter died. He was serious when he said, “She’s correct. Though it is on occasion permitted to leave a calling card.”