Page 59 of Accomplice to the Villain

Roland’s gaze softened on his sister as he removed his gardening gloves and tucked them back into the pack at his waist. “I’m proud of you, Bex. I could never imagine you doing anything rebellious like this, but you’ve really grown into yourself here. I know Mother made it seem like a negative, but I want you to know that we love you.”

“Th-Thank you, Roland.” Rebecka’s voice was lighter, sounding surprised. “That’s—that’s kind of you to say.”

“Oh, and Rudy wants to know if your boss can light his hair on fire at will.”

Blade bumped Rebecka with his hip playfully. “We could get some oil and give it an honest try!”

Rebecka rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. So, he’d won. “The illegal thorn grove, Roland? Please. We need to be sure the manor is secure so there are no more break-ins.”

“Right.” Roland’s throat bobbed and he wrung his hands. “As I was saying, I scanned the entire thing, and the magic’s all intact. Nothing amiss except…”

“Except what?”

“It’s apparent to me that someone has managed to go around the magic.”

Rebecka frowned, blinking her wide eyes rapidly. “I don’t understand. We hadtwointruders. Even if one of the workers is responsible, nobody can make it in or out of the grove without the magic word to part it.”

Only The Villain knew the word.

Roland shook his head. “There wasn’t any disruption to the magic itself, but I did find some physical damage—a small clearing through the thorns, just large enough for one or two people, no more than that. It’s small, hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. But it’s there, and by the footprints in the dirt below, it’s been used, likely since it’s been grown. And by the newer ones, it likely still is.”

Oh gods. Blade’s smile faded into something hard, anger burning beneath his skin, rising to prickle at his neck and stifle his breath.

Rebecka looked at him, panicked and wary. “The person who’s behind this…”

Roland finished her sentence. “Is closer than we thought.”

Chapter 32

The Villain

“The traitor again?” Tatianna hissed, slapping Trystan on the arm. “Damn it.”

“Why am I being struck,” Trystan grumbled, rubbing his arm. The office had emptied out for the day, night had fallen, and the only employees remaining were the guards who lived on the grounds and the rest of their motley crew. All the usual suspects.

Tatianna, Blade, Ms. Erring, Edwin, Sage, Clarissa, Keeley, and Kingsley, with the new addition of Rebecka’s brother Roland, who was taking in his surroundings like one inhaled secondhand smoke.

He hated that he was spending time so regularly with these people that it had becomeregular, but he didn’t have much of a choice. After they returned, they’d all convened in the kitchen. Edwin had placed chalices of cauldron brew in front of everyone with a forlorn look on his blue face, his purple eyes not holding their usual spark.

Guilt ate at Trystan.

Edwin dropped a tray of cookies on the table, and Sage patted the ogre’s large arm gently. “Edwin, why don’t you sit down?”

Trystan stood immediately without pause and without fuss. “Here, Edwin. I need more cauldron brew.” The brew in his chalice was thick and entirely without cream, but Trystan drained every drop, miraculously not wincing. But as soon as Edwin sat, the chair creaked, and Trystan turned away, his mouth twisted in a wince.

Gods, that is bitter.

No one had seen him lose his composure but Sage, who was watching him, eyes glowing with amusement.

Gods,thatwas sweet.

He took the ladle from the cauldron and filled, then drained another glass, leaning into the burn down his throat.

Tatianna’s hands glowed golden as she moved them about Edwin’s head, checking on his injury. “Poor dear. Did you take that tonic I gave you?”

Edwin nodded, staring down at his hands. “I can’t help but feel like the attack was my fault.”

“It’s not,” Rebecka objected. “You mustn’t keep dwelling, Edwin. It could’ve happened to any one of us.”