Page 27 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

Chapter Sixteen

“Tract houses? You brought me to a neighborhood in the middle of nowhere where every house looks the same?” I ask skeptically as we stand outside one of the beige-painted homes.

“You don’t miss a thing, do you? I always imagined demons were supposed to be clever, but I guess all the brains are reserved for the devil.” Malachi smirks, and I punch him in the arm.

“Very funny,” I mutter, following him up the path to the front door. He doesn’t bother knocking and lets himself in, and my suspicion flares.

“Do you always break into houses, or is this a special occasion?” I ask, stepping into a space that looks almost too perfect. The house is clean and orderly—simple furniture, neutral tones, not a personal touch in sight.

“Relax. This is one of ours.” He’s already moving, leading me down the hall to a large living room. As I look around, I can’t shake the sterile feeling of the place. It’s livable but devoid of life.

Malachi approaches a built-in bookshelf on the far wall and tugs on one of the books. The entire shelf swings open, revealing a hidden passageway.

“Okay, really? That’s not predictable or anything. You know how many books I’ve read with secret bookshelves?” I say, crossing my arms even as my inner nerd fights not to fangirl over the sheer coolness of it.

“Yeah, we’re all clichés here,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Not everyone can be an endlessly clever demon.” He steps into the dimly lit corridor beyond the bookshelf, his footsteps echoing faintly as he approaches a set of double doors.

He presses a button, and the doors slide open, revealing an elevator. Without hesitation, he steps inside and waves for me to follow. I glance back at the slowly closing bookshelf, and those intrusive, self-preservation instincts kick in.

This is how nightmares begin…

“Well?” Malachi raises an eyebrow. With a deep breath, I step into the elevator.

“Okay, let’s recap,” I say as the doors slide shut. “Secret bookshelf, creepy hallway, hidden elevator in the middle of a too-quiet neighborhood. So tell me—are you a serial killer, or is this a cult?”

He grins.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft hiss, and I step out into another world—one that leaves me momentarily breathless.

The first thing I notice is the light. It isn’t harsh or fluorescent like I’d expect in an underground bunker.

Instead, it’s a warm, ethereal glow emanating from crystalline fixtures embedded into the walls, ceilings, and even the floors.

They cast a soft shimmer that dances across the vast expanse before me.

The space is massive, and as I take another step forward, the enormity of it hits me.

The floor stretches out in a sprawling circular pattern, tiered like a grand amphitheater.

Each level is lined with laboratories, rooms, and what I can only describe as workshops, their windows glowing faintly with different colors depending on what’s inside.

Some pulse with blue, others with gold, and a few with vibrant greens and reds, making the entire place feel alive.

The center of the space is open, plunging deep into what seems like an endless abyss below.

Far above, I catch a glimpse of other levels spiraling upward, their occupants mere specks bustling about.

A massive chandelier-like structure hangs in the open space, its tendrils dripping down like frozen waterfalls made of light.

It’s mesmerizing and overwhelming all at once.

To my left, there’s a railing looking out over an atrium, allowing us to see many levels above and below ours.

To my right, long glass panels reveal people in lab coats working.

Inside one room, a man has his hands pressed to a sphere of glowing liquid, the energy arcing around him like lightning.

In another, someone examines a floating object—a dagger suspended midair that seems to hum with power.

The halls themselves are like arteries, stretching outward in every direction, connecting this vast labyrinth.

Above and below, balconies wrap around the open center, where I can see people walking, talking, and working.

I assume some must be Avids and others part of The Syndicate, some wearing lab coats, others carrying books.

There’s a hum of activity, a low buzz of machinery, and the sound of faint laughter and conversation echoing across the cavernous space.

The air is warmer than I expected, and it carries the faint scent of ozone, like the moments before a storm. There’s something vibrant and alive about this place, a stark contrast to the stillness above.

I turn to Malachi, who watches me with a small smile, clearly enjoying my reaction. “This is the Depths,” he says.

I take a slow, deep breath, marveling at everything in front of me. The possibilities. The secrets. The sheer magnitude of it all. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

“I thought you were going to be away a lot longer this time.”

A voice rings out from behind us, smooth and warm, and I turn to see a man with tan skin, a mop of curly black hair, and the most extraordinary blue eyes. He looks like he stepped out of a painting, all charm and confidence.

“You know I can’t stay away from this place for long,” Malachi replies as he steps forward to embrace the man. It’s a quick, familiar hug, and I take a moment to size up the newcomer. He’s no boy, despite the youthful energy radiating from him. Late twenties, maybe pushing thirty.

“This is Kat,” Malachi says, motioning toward me. “I’m showing her the Depths for the first time.”

The man turns his attention to me, his smile easy and disarming. “Sebastian,” he says, extending a hand. “But everyone around here calls me Bash.”

I shake his hand, offering a small smile of my own. “Nice to meet you, Bash.”

He pats Malachi on the back, and there’s an unmistakable camaraderie between them. Bash glances at me, his grin widening. “I’ll tag along for the tour. I’m better at explaining all the scientific stuff anyway. Malachi here struggles with anything outside of combat.”

“Combat, huh?” I glance over at Malachi, raising an eyebrow.

Malachi turns a shade pinker. “Ignore him,” he mutters, waving Bash off.

“Oh, it’s true,” Bash says, chuckling. “Anyone joining Solace has to pass Malachi’s training before he’ll let them on the team. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

I can’t help but smirk. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Alright,” Malachi cuts in, clearly eager to change the subject. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

Bash moves to the other side of me, grinning like he’s won some unspoken game, and I find myself flanked by the two of them as we start walking.

“The level we’re on right now,” Bash begins, “is all about discovery. We’ve got some of the best scientists—including yours truly—working on ways to make Avids stronger, harness the power we have, and improve conditions up above.

Take Atlas, for example. He’s a genius botanist a couple of levels down, working on altering plants to thrive in the harsh climates topside. ”

I pause in front of one of the windows, peering inside. The equipment is impressive, intricate, and completely incomprehensible to me. My reflection stares back, a mix of curiosity and wariness.

“Make Avids stronger? Power we have?” I glance at Bash, realization dawning. “You’re an Avid?”

Bash stops, turning to face me fully, that ever-present grin softening into something almost proud. “Sure am. And don’t let this charming demeanor fool you. I’m more useful than I look.” He winks.

“Wait—how did you know about me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes slightly.

Bash grins, the picture of casual charm. “Ran into Irina before meeting you. She told me Malachi was bringing someone back. She mentioned you had the gift but didn’t get into specifics. Word travels fast down here, especially when Malachi brings home a guest.”

Malachi groans, “I’ll have to thank Irina later.”

I follow them down the hallway as we pass an array of rooms bustling with activity—labs humming with energy, a dining hall full of chatter, and various stations filled with people absorbed in their work.

It’s organized chaos, fascinating and overwhelming all at once.

Eventually, we reach another elevator at the far end of the corridor.

As we step inside, Malachi hits a button, and the elevator begins its descent. The hum of motion combined with the faint sounds from the floors above has my mind wandering. How did they build all this down here? It’s insane.

“This is the training level. Physical training, that is,” Bash announces as the elevator doors slide open, revealing a noisy, chaotic scene.

The sounds of boxing gloves meeting punching bags and loud, encouraging yells echo through the cavernous space.

We step out, and I take in the sight of a giant gymnasium.

Bleacher-style seating lines the walls, and four makeshift rings dominate the center, each one occupied by people sparring or practicing. The air buzzes with adrenaline.

“These are the rings where people can practice,” Malachi explains, leading us inside.

The energy in the room is palpable, and I find myself drawn to the crowd gathered around each ring.

Most of the faces are young, some teenagers, while others look closer to my age.

Everyone’s animated, eyes alight with either excitement or focus.

“Mal, I’m so glad you’re back! You have to see Alex and Nasha. I think they might be ready for Solace,” someone calls out, and I turn to see a petite woman with striking purple hair pulled into a long ponytail weaving toward us.

“This is Rain. She and I run the only two Solace teams,” Malachi says.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kat.” I extend a hand, and she shakes it with a grip so firm it nearly makes me wince. She may be small, but there’s nothing weak about her.