Page 22 of Once a Villain
“You’ll inform us when Lord Oliver arrives home?” the lead guard asked Lucien. “You’ll tell us of his judgment after the interrogation?”
“Interrogation?” Lucien seemed surprised by the question. “There is no need for an interrogation. Lord Oliver has standing orders for traitors.”
Ronan drew an urgent breath, and Joan was suddenly sure that he was going to say something back to her—something important. But as Ronan’s lips started to move, terror passed over his face. Lucien had put a hand on his neck.
Joan froze in shock and horror.No, she breathed, the word swallowed by the rustling leaves, by the startled sounds of the guards.
With a swipe, Lucien siphoned away all of Ronan’s life, and Ronan crumpled to the ground, dead.
No.The word echoed through Joan’s mind. She stared,horrified. Lucien had killed Ronan like someone stepping casually on an ant. Without a trial, without even questioning him. Ronan hadn’t been a threat—he’d been standing there helpless in cuffs.
Ronan lay now barely ten paces from Joan, his eyes wide open in a look of pleading terror that would be forever frozen on his face. His sleeve had rucked up as he’d fallen, and his hand was splayed, the gold lion of the Monster Court shining in the lamplight. His lock-like pendant sat against his throat. Even in death, he wasn’t free.
Joan barely felt the tug on her elbow. Someone was dragging her back behind the shelter of the wall. Aaron.
Lucien looked up sharply at the movement. “Who’s there!” he said. His voice rose, commanding the guards. “Check that garden! I saw someone out there!”
Joan barely registered the words. She and the others were already running, as silently as they could through the maze of the sculpted hedges.
Aaron led the way with unerring knowledge, pulling Joan with him. Nick took the rear. When they reached the conservatory, Aaron shoved them into an alcove alongside it, motioning for them to crouch.
It was a small space—bordered on two sides by a high hedge, and on the third by the curving conservatory wall. Joan tried to keep her breathing quiet when—after a minute—the guards stumbled past, confused and seeming a little lost.
“This way!” one of them called, and they hurried away, their voices becoming softer and softer, until they were out of earshot.
Joan sucked in a shuddering breath. “We need to get out of here,” she whispered urgently.
She looked around. Beside her, the conservatory glowed like a lightbox, dark leaves pressed against the glass. “We can’t go back the way we came.” They couldn’t risk another sprint over open lawn—not with guards out there, searching for them.
Plan B had been to walk out alongside the river, but that was risky too—the territories and alliances had shifted, and Joan and Nick were out after curfew. If they were caught...
“I vote the river route,” Joan whispered—even with the risks, it seemed the safest under the circumstances. She turned to Nick. “What do you think?”
Nick took a long moment to answer. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I should have made a move against those guards—before they killed that man.”
The regret in his voice made Joan’s chest ache. “Nick...” Her voice cracked.
Nick didn’t meet her eyes—he couldn’t bear to look at her. He couldn’t stand what he’d done for her. And Joan couldn’t standthat.
“You’re not looking at this rationally,” Aaron hissed to Nick. “That man’s death was agift!”
It took Joan a second to parse Aaron’s words. She’d caught the tone first—his most obnoxiously posh. Sometimes he said things that she was sure he didn’t mean. This had to be one of those times.
“What did you say?” Nick said slowly. His tone was dangerous, and Joan’s stomach dropped.
“He recognized Joan, and now he can’t tell anyone he saw her,” Aaron said. “That’s the ideal scenario and we both know it.”
“Hey,” Joan said before Nick could reply. Tension had been simmering between them since they all got on the bus together, but it couldn’t escalate. Not here—so close to the guards. “We have togo!”
Nick nodded slightly in acknowledgment and got to his feet, but Joan could still see the horror in his handsome face. The horror of this world, that he’d created. She could hear the words he couldn’t say.I made the wrong choice when I chose you.
The thought of it stole her breath as she stood too. Eleanor had pulled a thread between them, and they’d been unraveling ever since. And when he looked at her like this—like she was a mistake he’d made—she felt like she was being torn apart.
For a second, the sensation was almost physical—she wasn’t just tearing inside, there was something tearing under her hands like fine cloth.
Aaron made a shocked sound and bent double with a groan of agony.
Joan reached for him, and a wave of nausea crashed over her too.
