Page 16 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

The man’s eyes linger in places that would make me uncomfortable if I wasn’t already so desensitized to this kind of behavior. “I can see why you like keeping her close. She is quite something to look at, isn’t she?”

I say nothing, standing still under his scrutinizing gaze. My pulse races beneath the calm facade I wear so well. This is a game, I remind myself. Play it smart. Watch. Listen. Don’t give them anything to use against you.

“Boris, there is another way,” Marco says. “Viktor’s tactics may work, but it’s not fun to have a caged beast when you can have an obedient dog.”

I guess I’m the dog in this analogy now.

Lovely.

I swallow my pride, forcing myself to focus.

It’s all about survival. What are Viktor’s tactics?

Marco’s words plant the question in my mind, unbidden.

As much as I detest him, it almost sounds like he’s positioning himself as the lesser of two evils.

Not good, but not as monstrous as Viktor.

Still, I can’t bring myself to believe that Marco’s motives are anything but selfish.

Boris steps closer, his boots scraping against the dusty floor.

Before I can react, his hand clamps around my chin, tilting my head to one side then the other, like I’m some piece of merchandise he’s inspecting.

I’m repulsed by his touch, and every muscle in my body screams at me to jerk away.

But I don’t. Marco expects me to behave, and I know better than to challenge him here.

“Yes,” Boris murmurs, scanning my face. “But is she the only one you’ve trained?” He releases my chin, turning to glance back at Marco, completely dismissing me now.

Marco leans casually against the edge of the desk, his demeanor relaxed as if this entire interaction is business as usual.

“All of my Avids are like this,” he says, a faint smile curling his lips.

“I give them a nice place to stay, and they understand the work. In turn, I get the respect I deserve.”

Respect? I almost laugh. Respect isn’t what he gets. What Marco gets is fear. I don’t stay in line because I admire him or appreciate the fancy cage he keeps me in. I obey because the alternative is far worse.

Boris looks me over again, but this time his eyes hold something darker, something calculating. “Interesting,” he says, simpering. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated your methods.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Marco replies.

He has pride in controlling me, and now he wants this man to see it, admire it. Marco is probably showing me off to seal whatever deal he’s brokering. Boris must be a buyer—or worse. The whole thing churns my stomach.

I don’t know what I expected before. Maybe I didn’t let myself think about it at all, but deep down I wanted to believe those of us with abilities who were discovered and sold off were treated somewhat like human beings.

Maybe not well, but at least given a home.

A bed. Something. Not kept in conditions too horrifying to imagine.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to sweeten the deal by lending her to me?” Boris asks.

I almost take a step back but catch myself, forcing my feet to stay planted and my face to remain unreadable.

“She’s not a common whore,” Marco says coolly. “You can find one of those, and it would cost you a lot less.”

I silently thank him for that, even if his defense has nothing to do with my dignity and everything to do with preserving his property.

“I want you to think about this deal with Viktor,” Marco continues, “and think about what I can offer you instead. You see her now in the flesh. Wouldn’t you rather this than what’s downstairs?”

Downstairs.

The word lands like a punch to the gut.

Fuck.

Is that where Viktor keeps the other Avids? I keep my face perfectly neutral, but inside my thoughts are racing. I need to pay attention when we leave—every turn, every landmark, every detail.

I need to come back here with Malachi and get everyone out.

“You’ve piqued my interest enough to make me think I’ll pay your district a visit when you return home.”

I can already tell Marco is silently basking in this victory.

He doesn’t show it outwardly, but the way he carries himself now—the slight lift of his shoulders, the glint in his eye—makes it obvious.

He’s pulled it off. He’s managed to sway one of Viktor’s clients, turning him against his own brother.

“I look forward to it. I’ll be in touch in a couple of weeks,” Marco replies.

Thank God, I think, relieved. We’re leaving. Finally.

Marco and Boris shake hands again, and I make a point not to look at Boris at all as Marco leads me out of the room.

This time, Marco turns us right, leading me down a different hallway. I think I hear the faint hum of whispers brushing against my ears. At the end of the hallway, a side door waits, but before we reach it, Marco stops abruptly.

He turns to face a stairwell that descends into pitch darkness, and the sound hits me. Clanging metal, the echo of bars being rattled. Faint, ghostly whispers of voices too distant to make out, but unmistakably human.

“I would take you down there,” Marco whispers. “to remind you of your place and how bad things could be. But I know you would never try to escape again, would you?”

It’s the closest he’s come to being openly cruel in a long time. It feels like a slap, even though I hold myself in check. I haven’t tried to escape in years. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped thinking about it.

I shake my head, forcing myself to stay composed. Try to escape? No. Kill you? Absolutely.

I glance toward the stairwell, my heart sinking. There are people down there. Avids. I can feel it in my gut, and the sounds only confirm it. Who knows what kind of conditions they’re being kept in or where they’re going to end up?

This only solidifies my decision to help Malachi.

Even if I can’t stand him, he’s my only chance at ever making a real difference.

I can’t keep burying this, pretending it doesn’t matter.

Staying complacent in my pretty prison isn’t survival anymore—it’s surrender.

And it’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.

“Let’s go,” Marco says, pulling open the side door. The rush of cold air hits me like a slap, sharp and bracing, but it’s a welcome change. As I follow him back to the SUV, I make a silent vow to myself.

I won’t bury this anymore.

I can’t.