Chapter 25
Evie
Evie had gone through several identity crises in her life.
Yet through them all she stayed flighty, foolish, and, as always—fucked.
She twiddled her thumbs in a room several floors up in the manor. One she’d always assumed was once a ballroom, with its extravagant chandeliers and fabrics draped along the walls.
Now it was disheveled, lit only by the fading sunlight coming in through the windows, the gentle breeze drifting in from the one Evie had managed to wedge open.
He’s going to come. He won’t abandon you to the magic alone. Even if he’s mad at you for snapping at him. For assuming he’d gone behind your back with the others to enlist Lyssa.
You’re not a bad person. You’re not a bad person. She chanted it to herself until her breaths came easier and her heart rate slowed. Only to jump again when a voice sounded at her ear. “You are far too easy to sneak up on.”
“You’re too tall to be sneaky. It’s like a giant hiding beneath a mushroom.” Evie rolled her eyes, turning, but her breath hitched when his arms caged her in. His dark eyes were warm.
“Your mother is safely atop one of our best horses, and I sent two Malevolent Guards to escort her to her intended destination.” He told her this softly, watching her face closely for a reaction she wouldn’t give.
You’re not the only one who can bury their emotions and shut them away like a creepy doll.
“I can be creepy, too,” she blurted, forgetting she hadn’t had that conversation with herself aloud. No, usually when she did that, people stared at her funny.
Trystan didn’t seem to mind this, just nodded, eyes roving her face like a caress. “There was never a question of that, Sage. I’ve heard you laugh about tongue removal.”
“Forgive me for trying to make paperwork more enjoyable.” She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Are you angry with me? For before?” she added tentatively.
“I was for a solid ten minutes. A personal best.” He’d drifted closer without her noticing, his eyes flickering down to watch her lips.
It made forming coherent words exceptionally more difficult. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve it, I was just…”
“Hurt.”
Hurt.
Nail on the head. “Take that mind-reading act on the road, and you got yourself a fortune.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled when he leaned in closer, the cinnamon on his skin a heady scent in her nose.
“Are you ready, Evangelina?”
She’d stayed ready since the last time in the forest, replaying the feel of him towering over her like a dizzying playact that made her palms sweat and her heart race.
Respond normally, Evie!
“For?” she asked, licking her lips, his eyes following the motion like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
“To turn you into a villain.” He moved toward the old table in the corner, dragging it in front of her with a smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing.
“What was the personal-space invasion for? A bad attempt to get me into bed?”
“I’d take you right here, actually,” he murmured low, the sound a mere scrape against the back of his throat.
And Evie would take a good thirty seconds to unfreeze her face.
“Sage? You requested lessons. Would you like to begin in the near future?” He gestured toward the table. “Use your magic to surround it, then try and find places it can be injured.”
“Has my need to apologize when I bump into inanimate objects given you the illusion that I believe they can be a threat?”
“It’s just to practice the technique.” He sighed, exasperated. “I never would have survived as a teacher. The patience they must possess.”
“What would you have taught?” She scoffed, standing before the table. “How to hang a head 101?”
“Sage,” he stated in a way that made her flush, clearing her throat, and she held up her hands and asked the magic very politely to wrap around the table. It didn’t budge. “Command it. It’s yours to control.”
“But it’s part of me.” She frowned. “And I hate being controlled.”
A tingle spread through her fingers, the cool feeling a balm to her heart, soothing her soul. The darkness spilled out slowly, circling the floor until it surrounded the table.
“Ha!” She squealed, jumping up and spinning toward Trystan so quickly, her braid flopped against her shoulder. “Did you see?”
He was watching her with a strange expression, slowly rolling up his shirtsleeves until they were at his elbows, displaying muscular forearms covered with a sprinkle of hair.
“All right, now do me.”
She scrunched her nose, ogling his forearms like a character from The Cunning Corset Society. “In what respect?”
“Sage.”
“Fine,” she grumbled, closing her eyes, breathing deep.
“The goal is to use it to stop me in place, then the mist will find places you can strike. I learned over time that red means a light injury, yellow a past weakness to utilize. Blue incapacitates, but do not confuse it with black.”
“Why, what does black do?” she asked, suddenly less confident as the mist crept toward him.
“It lives at your jugular and vital arteries. One strike, and that person’s life is over.”
“Should I really be practicing on you?” she asked, the magic stopping just before it touched him.
“I trust you.” He said it so confidently, like it was a simple fact of his life and not a complete rattle to her sense of self.
Because there was the problem.
She didn’t trust herself.
The mist crept back to her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling bathed in shame. “I’m too afraid I’ll hurt you. Please don’t make me.”
“I would never make you do anything,” he said with sardonic humor. “I’d have to be several days postmortem to attempt something so foolish.”
Alexander Kingsley knocked on the open door just then, staring down at his knuckles like they were miracle instruments. “Hi.” He spoke with a slightly clearer tone than yesterday, waving with a sweet smile upon his face. “Lionel.” He pointed out the door, rubbing at his throat.
“Has Lionel arrived, Kingsley?” she asked.
With eyes shut, he nodded with happy relief. “Indeed.” Evie wasn’t certain what she had expected his voice to be like, but it was still a shock to hear such a deep lilt, pleasant, like honey spooling into tea.
“Wonderful,” Trystan said. “Lionel and Malcolm all in one day. What did I do to deserve such company?”
Evie blinked. “You have killed, like…a lot of people.”
“Oh. That.” It was incredible that so soon after her mother departed, she didn’t feel like the world was going to collapse on her. Her world stood on its own now, with or without Nura. With or without her father.
It was occurring to Evie, through all her turmoil, that she’d been parenting herself since she was small. Little orders here and there, things she wished someone had told her. But she’d learned them, and she’d passed them on to Lyssa, who was braver than all of them put together.
Evie had learned to get by all on her own.
The magic stirred within her on the way to the office.