Assistant to the Villain

“It’s crooked,” Becky insisted.

Evie pushed the frame higher onto the wall, nearly stumbling from the ladder she was already precariously close to falling from.

“So is your face,” Evie mumbled under her breath, feeling the burn in her biceps from pinning up the sides of the heavy artwork.

“What was that?” Becky called up. Even a couple of feet below her, she still found a way to look down her nose at Evie.

“Nothing,” Evie muttered. She hated herself for it, but the normalcy of their endless display of cutting words gave her a level of familiar comfort. After all the unpredictable abnormality of the past few weeks, it was nice to have something she could count on.

“Really? I thought you said something about my face being crooked.” From somewhere across the room, Evie heard an intern cough into their hands.

“Evie would never say anything like that.” Tatianna’s teasing face appeared below her. “She’s far too moral.”

“I am not,” Evie said with a frown. “I can be ruthless.” Or at least, her version of ruthless.

Distracted by thoughts of doing evil to Becky to prove her point, Evie felt her foot catch against the ladder rung and slide down a peg.

“Careful!” Becky yelled. “Don’t drop it.”

“And of course, don’t fall,” Tatianna added mildly.

Since Evie’s return to work after quitting, Becky had taken it upon herself to bring rule following to…an obscene level.

Just last week, Becky had issued a memo that all employees must be punctual, well-groomed, and without the odious scent of dragon upon their person. Which of course meant Blade had to spend several minutes in the washroom before entering their offices each day—which he didn’t—or risk being written up—which he did.

If that wasn’t enough, Becky had decided that any free and idle moment must be utilized to increase work productivity. She’d cut the spare fifteen minutes they were all given each shift in addition to ten minutes of their half-hour lunch break and replaced them with an “extras” assignment sheet. Every single task on the list was worse than the last.

But it was futile to resist, for the few who did found their paychecks “misplaced” at the week’s end and their desks suddenly moved to the part of the office the spiders seemed to populate.

Startlingly, at the top of the extras list was Tatianna, who’d been given the horrifically tedious task of refilling their ink vials for their office supplies. At the healer’s protests, especially because of the risk to her gowns, Becky had told her this was a good opportunity to wear more appropriate work attire, since her lavish pink dresses were better suited to a ball than to a respectable organization. Tatianna had thrown a pillow at the woman. A pink one.

“Lift up the corner. It’s still crooked,” Becky advised, as though Evie’s arms weren’t shaking with the effort to hold up the large piece of art.

Sweat beaded her brow, and Evie snapped back, “Please do me a favor…and shut up.” This somehow worked—Becky didn’t reply.

Evie’s palm burned where it slid against the metal, and she pushed the corner of the frame higher before it could cut farther into her skin. The fact that she was even doing this in the first place was a little absurd, but she didn’t trust anyone else to peek under the cloth before she unveiled her precious find.

“I hope whatever you picked from storage to replace the last portrait is worthy of the front wall,” Becky said, and Evie could just hear that she had one eyebrow raised.

It was no secret that Becky was bitter about what had happened to the last portrait. She apparently had given it to the boss as a gift. It was an ugly art piece Becky had said was an abstract work from an elusive artist, and she never failed to brag about it whenever anyone breathed in the artwork’s direction.

The sudden whipping sounds of flapping wings from the courtyard caused Becky to flinch, and Evie chuckled to herself and reached out to straighten the frame one last time before climbing back down the rungs.

Blade and the dragon had been working together like a finely tuned machine, but they still had some rough edges to smooth. Still, Evie had grown fond of those edges. Seeing as yesterday afternoon the dragon, who was still growing accustomed to free range with his wings, came crashing through one of the stained glass windows. Not Evie’s favorite brew companion in the kitchen, thankfully.

It was just as well; it had been an incredibly boring and unproductive beginning of their week until that point.

After leaving Otto Warsen’s smithy, a sense of finality and closure following the incident, the boss had become distractingly preoccupied with an issue he didn’t seem to need her for.

But Evie contented herself with the sweet bit of joy she’d get with the dangerous stunt she was about to pull with this art display.

After the dragon had plowed through the window, taking the hideous painting with him in his destruction, Evie had yelped in fear before feeling a moment’s satisfaction at seeing the painting’s fiery end. The abstract portrait had been staring into her soul for the better part of the last six months.

“I doubt whatever you found in storage will live up to what hung here before.” Evie didn’t mind the disbelief in Becky’s voice—not when she was subtly winning their battle of wills.

“Nothing can live up to that eyesore.” Blade chuckled, joining them for once without a wound or blood coming from some area of his body. Kingsley was sitting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Yes,” Becky drawled, looking Blade up and down. “Let’s take advice from the man who woke up today and decided bathing was optional.”

Blade smiled widely, like her insults were the sweetest of compliments, and sauntered closer. Kingsley’s eyes darted around, looking for a means of escape from the squabble. Evie watched Becky’s back go straighter than usual as she took a tiny, almost unnoticeable step backward from the frog.

But Blade saw. Evie could tell by the twinkle in his eyes, but also by the way he stopped in his tracks instead of bringing Kingsley closer. “If I ever need a new cologne, I’ll ask for whatever scent you’re wearing that allows you to smell so lovely, even when your rules are so rotten, Rebecka.”

Evie caught a flash of red glowing around Becky’s cheeks and almost stepped in to tell Blade to lay off. But before she could, Becky said, “Just pull the tarp, Evangelina. I have work to do.”

With a quick smile, Evie grabbed one corner of the cloth covering and yanked, revealing the canvas she’d spent the last hour framing and hanging.

There was stunned silence, quickly followed by the howl of Tatianna’s laughter. An intern walked by with a tray of cauldron brews, caught sight of the newly unveiled portrait, and stumbled into the nearest desk, spilling the cups of liquid everywhere.

“It’s the boss,” Blade said, wide-eyed, biting his lip to hold back a smile.

But it wasn’t—or it was, just the public’s perception of him. Evie had been walking through the village square last night, only to find a cart selling large, hand-painted canvases of the hideous rendition of The Villain for half the price.

It was the best money Evie had ever spent.

“It’s horrible!” Becky was slack-jawed, her look of horror only sweetening Evie’s little play at revenge on the boss for leaving her out of his most recent plans.

It looked worse in a larger size, the flaming-haired depiction of the man clearer and the letters in bold at the bottom standing out with perfect clarity.

THE VILLAIN

WANTED FOR MURDER, TREASON, AND GENERAL VILLAINY

DANGEROUS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

“Add ‘hideous’ to the charge list.” Evie and Tatianna snickered at Blade’s comment. Becky threw her arms in the air, glaring at all three of them with pure venom.

“You all make a mockery of the work we do here.” She pulled her chin up, then jumped slightly at Blade’s laughter. “The boss offers each of us decent, though private, employ. And if each of you had any sense, you’d show just a bit more respect for it, given how rare that really is.”

The entire group paused before Blade spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, concern pinching his features. Followed quickly by panic when Becky spun on her heels, walking away. “Rebecka! Hold on!” he shouted, passing Kingsley into Tatianna’s hands before rushing to catch up to the fast-moving woman.

Feeling a strange sense of defensiveness for Becky, Evie realized she really didn’t know much about how she’d come to work here. Had never even asked. Perhaps it was time she changed that. Maybe if she took the time to know Becky, they could find a common ground from which to build.

“Tati, can you have Marvin let me know when the boss returns? I want to see his face when he comes in and sees the new art.”

“Then turn around.”

Evie froze, moving slowly in the direction of the voice, knowing exactly who was going to be standing there. Even without Kingsley’s eyes darting behind her and him popping up his little sign that now read Trouble.

“Good afternoon, sir.”