Page 20 of Once a Villain
“We stood outside the timeline while it was being changed. That means thatthistimeline may have formed its own Joan. Its own Nick. Own Aaron. It’s very likely that we have”—Aaron searched for the word—“counterpartshere. Versions of us born and raised in this world.”
“Counterparts?” Joan thought of the wanted poster with her own face on it; the illustration that wasn’t quite herself.
“The marks on the wall... ,” Nick said to Aaron. “You think there’s anotheryouin this house? You thinkhe’sbeen using that door?”
“Is that possible?” Joan asked. The thought was so strange—other versions of themselves born into a world where monsters ruled. “Could we run into him down at the house?”
Aaron shook his head. “The laws of time travel would never allow two versions of us to exist in the same time and place. Iftherewereother versions of ourselves here, they would have been replaced byuswhen we arrived.”
Replaced. It was such a disturbing thought that Joan wanted to push it away and never think of it again. Nick folded his arms, looking as rattled as Joan.
“It’s academic, I suppose,” Aaron said. “We still need to get to Ronan before he’s interrogated. This doesn’t change anything.”
“Itdoeschange things, though,” Nick said slowly—Joan could see him thinking through the implications. “If you’ve replaced your counterpart here,you can feign beinghim. You’d have access to the house. We wouldn’t even need to—”
“No.” Aaron’s tone was flat.
“You said it wasvery likely—”
“I saidno.”
Nick gave him a long look, and Aaron’s chin lifted defensively. Nick thought he was being a coward, and some part of Aaron thought so too.
Joan bit her lip. The truth was, Aaron’s family despised him—his father surrounded him with minders, belittled him, publicly humiliated him. Joan had seen Aaron’s meager bedroom, separated from the rest of the Olivers’ palatial mansion. If he had a counterpart here, it wouldn’t help matters.
Aaron would never say that to Nick, though—he’d rather cut his own throat. He’d never even spoken about it openly with Joan.
“Let’s go in as we planned,” Joan said softly. “We don’t want to complicate things.” They just needed to find Ronan and get the hell out of here.
The Oliver mansion came into view, framed by curling branches. It was gray stone with castle-like turrets that made an eerie silhouette against the clouded moon. A setting for a ghost story. Aaron stared down the barrel of the garden, gaze distant, as if he were seeing something far more sinister than a house on a hill.
Nick pushed his hands into his pockets. “This is where you grew up?” There was a very faint needle in his voice, and it seemed to shake Aaron out of his paralysis.
“Why?” Aaron said. “Better than you’re used to?”
As a child, Nick had lived in a tiny flat with his family.Three brothers and two sisters, he’d said to Joan once.My brothers and I all slept in the TV room until I was seven.His mouth stretched now into a not quite smile at Aaron.
They were getting off on the wrong foot. Joan didn’t know why that dismayed her so much. She should have guessed they’d chafe—they were from very different worlds, and they’d once been on opposite sides of the human-monster battle.
And when this fight was over, they’d all be pitted against each other again....
Joan pushed the thought aside. There wasn’t time to worry about that now. She judged the distance from here to the house. The woodland had tamed as they’d made their way up the garden, and they were hidden in the last thicket of trees before it transformed into lush, picnic-perfect lawn.
“We’re going to have to run across that stretch,” she whispered. Aaron wanted them to break in via a servant’s door, and they had to get to the side of the house. “If anyone looks this way,they’ll see us. There’ll be nowhere to hide.”
“I’ve snuck in and out of here a thousand times and never been caught,” Aaron said. “Just be quick and keep low.”
Joan counted the seconds as she ran.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—
She gasped as she hit the relative safety of the formal garden, with its shielding hedges and trees. Just beyond the garden, the conservatory shone pearl-like in the darkness.
Nick gestured for Joan and Aaron to stay put. He was already moving again, prowling silently to check that they were still alone. After a minute, he nodded and beckoned.
They stuck to the darkest parts of the garden. Joan concentrated on keeping her footsteps silent on the grass as they weaved among sculpted hedges: a trident-wielding mermaid; a bull with spiral horns. Gusts of wind rippled through the leaves, making the sculptures shiver into life.
Through the thick leaves, the pale stone of the house was just visible. This was the service wing: kitchens and storage rooms. According to Aaron, it would be completely empty at this time of night. The servants themselves slept in a separate building, out of sight of the main house.
But before Joan could take another step, gravel crunched. They all froze. The sound had come from just around the corner.
