“I’m not your anything, you big flirt.” She reached up to brush his dark shoulder-length hair off his forehead, then grimaced at the skin torn away from his scalp. “That thing is going to kill you one of these days.”
When Blade had first arrived, the dragon was barely the size of her palm, and she’d even held the little creature a few times, cooing at it like it was a defenseless infant. But the beast had grown in just a few short months to an alarming size, snapping and growling at everyone. Only Blade managed to get close, but even he didn’t come away from the encounters unscathed.
He was the one who’d found the egg, after all, in the mountains to the east. He’d been hiking there, ever the explorer, and found a nest abandoned by the mother. He’d told Evie after the creature hatched that it took to him immediately.
He’d bonded with the little beast, couldn’t bear to be parted from it, but the upkeep was far more than Blade could afford. Fortunately, it was around that time that he came across an advertisement from someone calling themselves “The Villain,” requesting any and all magical beasts. So Blade turned up on the front steps two weeks after Evie did, offering the dragon in exchange for a place to sleep and a position as the dragon’s tamer. The boss had agreed to his terms, but they’d yet to have any use for the dragon, for many reasons.
One of them being that when it wasn’t trying to bite Evie’s head off, the animal was afraid of everything.
Blade’s smile widened. “That thing is a sweet creature with the occasional temper tantrum.” His eyes brightened as he caught sight of Becky moving past them, carrying a stack of papers to the board pinned to the wall. “Like you, lovely Rebecka!”
Becky froze in her tracks, turning her wide-eyed gaze toward them. “That is not an appropriate way to address a coworker, Mr. Gushiken.” Her disapproval practically oozed off her, but to Blade’s credit, her disdain didn’t seem to faze him.
In fact, he seemed to be oddly fueled by her censure. “Perhaps we should discuss this further at the Evergreen Tavern.” He somehow found the bravery to wink at her. “You can read off your very long list of complaints.”
Pushing her glasses farther up her nose, Becky sniffed and looked at him like something foul she’d stepped in. “I would rather drink paint than converse with the likes of you in my free time. The only reason I’m doing so now is because I am being paid to tell you that your hygiene leaves everything to be desired.”
She eyed the blood sliding down his cheek, gritting her jaw before adding, “Your blood is as offensive as your smell. Take care of both immediately or you’ll find yourself without a paycheck at the end of the week.”
Evie rolled her eyes as the she-demon stormed away. “Why do you press her like that?”
Blade shrugged, using one of his leather wrist cuffs to dab up some of the blood. “Because it’s fun when she gets ruffled.” Eyeing the closed doors, Blade lowered his voice. “I’ve heard there’s been another bust on a shipment. How’s he handling it?”
“Did you see the entryway?” she answered dryly.
“So normally, then?” Blade chuckled and then froze, remembering how close they were to The Villain’s office.
“You can speak freely. He’s been everywhere but here the past couple of days.”
“No arson for you today?” Blade gave her a mock pout.
Evie huffed a laugh, which was unsettling because the man was hardly joking. She’d started quite a few fires since she obtained the job, figuratively and literally. “That’s not my only job here, you know.”
He nodded quickly. “Oh, I know. I heard from someone you’ve cut the boss’s destructive tirades down to two a week.”
“I don’t let him talk to any of the interns before he’s eaten breakfast—that’s the key. He’s crabby on an empty stomach,” she said, wondering just how many of their workers’ lives were saved because of a frosted pastry.
Evie leaned back against her desk, gaze going to the large clock on the wall. The loud clang of the bell rang throughout the room, startling some workers at their desks and causing others to bolt from their seats, their bags already gathered to return home to their loved ones.
A few stopped to eye the closed door of The Villain’s office. It wasn’t often the boss was absent at the end of the day. He usually opened his door to indicate he wouldn’t kill anyone for making their daily escape.
Evie looked at them and nodded with quiet authority. “Go on. He’s gone for the day.” She’d reap the consequences if the boss was angry.
Without question, they all scurried toward the hidden door, the bounding of heavy footfalls on the stairs ringing in their wake. Moving to her own bag, Evie packed up her few belongings, trying to ignore the uneasiness she felt.
Where in the deadlands had The Villain gone lately?
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Blade reassured, waving to Tatianna as she ventured through the hallway into the open room. “Hey, Tati!”
“I wasn’t worried about him—” Evie started.
But Blade was already running toward the healer. Tatianna studied his forehead, then gave him a long-suffering expression as she pointed him in the direction of the healer’s quarters, following closely behind him.
Evie gathered the rest of her things, giving the boss’s closed office door one last, longing look.
Don’t care more than you should, Evie.
Sighing to herself, she headed for the stairs.
Too late.
She passed through the doorway, unable to stop herself from glancing back at The Villain’s closed door again, wondering if one of these times he wouldn’t return.
Chapter 5
Evie
“It tastes watery,” Evie’s ten-year-old sister, Lyssa, muttered under her breath.
“Shhh.” Evie held her finger to her lips as her father moved slowly to the table, his own bowl of soup in hand. He’d been in a spectacular mood when Evie returned home that day. Which meant he would be cooking.
Since their father’s illness began, he’d found few pleasures, but one of them was that when he felt up to it, he’d cook dinner for his children. It was his way of taking care of them. So even though the things he made often tasted like liquid shoe leather, Evie would be damned if she and Lyssa didn’t swallow every drop.
Because her father cooking meant he was well, and it gave them a taste of what their family was…before.
Evie looked toward the two empty chairs at the table, one at the opposite end of her father and one beside her. The seats her mother and her older brother, Gideon, had once occupied but never would again. But still the chairs sat there, like their memory was haunting them.
“How is it, girls?” Griffin Sage was a large man, with a warm smile and a full head of thick brown hair. In his younger years, he’d been the catch of the town. A man who’d built a successful butchery business from the ground up. Their mother, a foreigner from a lovely string of kingdoms southeast of their continent, Myrtalia, Rennedawn’s home along with five other kingdoms. Her mother had loved her father to distraction until the incident…until she’d left them.
Evie’s earliest memories were of her parents laughing together, singing and dancing in their small kitchen. Clearing her throat, she smiled at her father.
“It’s delicious, Papa.” Pointedly looking at her little sister, she said, “I think Lyssa would like seconds.”
A small foot connected hard with her shin underneath the table. Chuckling, Evie ladled another large scoop of the lumpy liquid into Lyssa’s bowl. She wouldn’t hope for this lasting sense of lightness, where every living member of her family was well and happy. But there was no rule saying she couldn’t try and enjoy it.
“How’s your work at the manor?” Her father smiled warmly at her, a healthy glow to his cheeks that she hadn’t seen in months.
Swallowing a hard lump of potato, Evie began stirring the soup with her spoon, attempting nonchalance. “Oh, it’s been rather uneventful, actually.”
“I wish I worked in a castle.” Lyssa pouted, wincing as she took another bite.