Page 13 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

He doesn’t budge, his gaze fixed on me with that infuriating mix of amusement and curiosity. “Relax. I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do. Yet.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my patience fraying. “Malachi, if this is some ridiculous attempt to flirt?—”

“It’s not,” he interrupts, sitting up slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “Sit down for a minute and hear me out.”

“If it’ll make you leave faster,” I mumble under my breath, giving in and sitting at the very edge of the bed, my back to him.

“I get the feeling you don’t like me much,” he says, amused. “But that’s not the vibe I got at the park that night.”

I already regret sitting down. “Call it temporary insanity,” I say, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, waiting for him to say something interesting—if he’s even capable of it.

“I’ve been watching you,” he starts, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “And I see that you don’t have much to lose. You don’t have much of a life at all.”

I turn and blink at him, startled by his bluntness. “Uh, thank you for the compliment.”

He leans forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “What I mean is that you’re untethered. No family, no alliances, no loyalties—except to yourself.”

“Again, a real ego boost here,” I cut in, but he keeps going, undeterred.

“I’m going to risk telling you the real reason I’m here,” he says, his voice lowering slightly. The way he’s looking at me makes me pause. “I think we can help each other, but only if I can trust you.”

My curiosity sparks despite myself. “The real reason you’re here...” I tilt my head to study him. “You’ve been parading around like your father’s perfect little soldier, so forgive me if I’m not entirely convinced.”

His lips curl at the edges, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Marco and Viktor think I’m here to fall in line, to play the good son and follow orders, learn the family business. But I’m not.”

I narrow my eyes, my suspicion flaring. “So what are you really doing here, Malachi?”

“I want to learn the ins and outs of how they traffic people like you—Avids,” Malachi says somberly. “I’m working with a group in the Western District where I came from. We’ve been rescuing Avids across our region.”

He pauses, watching me as if waiting for a reaction.

I stare back, arms crossed, not giving him anything yet.

He exhales. “We want to put a stop to all of it—shut down as many houses as we can, save as many people as possible. Fuck, most Avids are kids when they’re discovered.

Then they’re sold off to some wealthy family to be used for their gifts or exploited for wealth.

My father and Viktor move more Avids than anyone else, and I want to destroy their operation from the inside out. ”

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The way he huffs when he talks about the trafficking—it’s not just hatred; there’s something personal in it. But I don’t let it show on my face.

I ask, “What’s in it for me?”

His brows knit together. “Don’t you want to help put a stop to the very system that ruined your life?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, willing myself to stay calm. “That doesn’t exactly benefit me, now does it?”

I don’t know why I say it. Of course I want to stop the exploitation, to save the kids who never stood a chance—kids like me, Aurora, Ramus, and the others I met before Marco bought me. But agreeing to Malachi means trusting him, and trust has never been something I’ve handed out easily.

I keep my glare steady, my stoic expression firmly in place, even as an unsettling feeling takes hold.

He doesn’t back down. “If you help me, I won’t just save others like you. I’ll make sure you’re free of my family forever. You’ll be free to lead your own life.”

My stomach twists.

Free.

The word lodges itself in my chest, dangerous and titillating. Hope like that can kill you. “Marco would hunt me to the ends of the Earth,” I say darkly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He leans forward, his expression shifting. “What if my father was no longer in the picture?”

That gets my attention. I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes at him. “You plan to kill your father?” My voice comes out louder than I intended, and I instantly clap a hand over my mouth, glancing toward the door.

He smirks, leaning back against the headboard. “Relax. These rooms are practically soundproof.”

Convenient, I think bitterly, but the look in his eyes is deadly serious.

“I don’t know what my plans are yet,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “That’s why I need your help.”

And there it is—the catch. “What do you need from me?”

His shoulders relax, like he’s been waiting for this.

“My father might trust me, but my brothers. Not a chance. They don’t want me anywhere near their cut of the business.

They see me as a threat, and they’re not wrong.

” He pauses, grimacing. “I haven’t seen the other Avids and don’t even know where they’re kept.

But I know my father and Viktor own many. They have to.”

“What does that have to do with me?” I ask, feeling skeptical. “I have no control here. No say over anything.”

He shakes his head, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “You have more power than you think.”

“How do you figure that?”

“For whatever reason, my father listens to you. He trusts what you say. It’s like he has some weird infatuation with you or something.

” My skin crawls, but Malachi doesn’t stop.

“You can get me in, Katja. Tell him you need help with the case. Say you need to see what the other Avids can do, if any of them have abilities that might be useful.”

The blood drains from my face. “You want me to use them as pawns? Like tools?”

“That’s what they already are to him,” he says, his voice hard. “You’d be playing along to get us closer to the truth. Once I know where they’re kept, I can figure out a way to dismantle it all.”

I shake my head, my chest tightening. “I don’t like where this is going, Malachi.”

“You don’t have to like it,” he says softly. “You have to decide if freedom—yours and theirs—is worth the risk.”

I can’t bring myself to answer. Because the truth? I’m not sure I know yet.

My pretty prison is safe, predictable, controlled, and survivable.

But am I ready to risk it all for a chance at a real life?

The thought gnaws at me, and I try to shove it down.

Hope is dangerous. Letting myself believe there’s a way out will only make it hurt worse when this all fails and falls apart.

I glance at Malachi, his brown eyes still on me, waiting for my answer.

I think about Orin and the punishments I’ve endured.

I don’t know if I can bear another round of his sadistic shit.

But can I let my fear, my cowardice, be the thing that keeps Malachi from saving so many others like me?

What if he really can put a dent in the trade business and stop the trafficking of Avids altogether?

I sigh. “Okay, I’ll do what I can to help. But that doesn’t mean we’re friends, and if this shit goes south, you can bet I’ll throw your ass under the bus in a second.”

A smile spreads across his face, and there it is—that stupid, dangerous smile.

Fuck.

It’s too charming, far too dangerous. The kind of smile that could make someone forget all the red flags waving in the background.

“It’s decided then,” he says smoothly. “You keep working on the case and find a way to learn more about the Avids and how they manage things. Tomorrow night, Viktor’s throwing some kind of party.

I’ll make sure my father thinks it’s a good idea for you to attend.

I could use a second set of eyes and ears. ”

I snort, the absurdity of it hitting me. “His son was brutally murdered in this very house, and he’s throwing a dinner party? How deranged can your family get?”

Malachi laughs, the sound dark and full of irony.

“I know, right? Let’s say Damien wasn’t exactly his favorite son.

Haven’t you learned yet that appearances are everything in the Volkov family?

Viktor needs to put on a strong front and celebrate the arrival of his brother.

Nothing screams ‘strong leader’ like a dinner party in a house still stained with blood. ”

I squirm but don’t argue. The Volkovs thrive on appearances, power plays, and pretending everything is under control—even when it’s clearly not.

“Was Gary or Anton out in the hall when you came in?” I ask, steering the conversation away from the madness of the party.

“I saw Anton downstairs eating lunch, and Gary thinks I’m trying to get in your pants, so don’t worry about him being suspicious of anything,” Malachi says, adding a wink that makes my stomach churn.

“Nice. Real nice. Seems you’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? Except how to do this all on your own,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

His grin widens, and for the first time I notice the faint dimple on his left cheek. It’s infuriatingly disarming. “You don’t have to like me, Kat,” he says. “At the end of the day, we want the same things. It only makes sense to work together.”

He’s right about that. I don’t like him, and this changes nothing. But I learned from Marco to keep your enemies close. Malachi isn’t my friend, but for now I’ll play along. I’ll help him, so long as I don’t get the sense he’s playing me.

“I still have a feeling you’re not telling me everything,” I say, watching him closely. “Was this your plan all along? Did you know who I was that night in the park?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but a knock at the door cuts him off. The handle shakes, and my stomach twists. Good thing he locked it, I guess.

“Viktor wants to speak with you,” Anton says from the other side, his voice like gravel. There’s no getting out of this.

I glance back briefly, but Malachi is already moving, slipping silently into the bathroom. Of course.

I crack the door open and nod. “Fine. Lead the way.”

I step into the hall, the door clicking shut behind me. Whatever Malachi was going to say will have to wait. For now, I’m walking into whatever Viktor has planned.