Page 29 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

Chapter Seventeen

“What is your ability?” I ask Bash, leaning back into one of the wheeled chairs scattered around his lab.

The room itself feels like a futuristic hospital—a pristine maze of white walls, glowing screens, and complex machines performing functions that are completely beyond me.

The air smells faintly sterilized, like alcohol wipes.

“Bioelectric tuning,” he says casually, and I blink at him, doing a double take.

“Uh...you’re gonna have to break that down for me. What does that mean?”

Bash grins and swivels his chair closer, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You know how all living beings have electrical signals running through them?” he starts, and I nod slowly, not entirely sure where this is going.

“Well, those signals? They’re like music to me.

Avids—especially Avids—have their own frequency, a unique bioelectric signature.

I can hear it, feel it, manipulate it. It’s like tuning into a specific radio station. ”

I tilt my head, intrigued despite myself. “So what can you actually do with it?”

His grin widens, and he raises his hand.

Faint blue static crackles between his fingers, like a miniature storm dancing across his skin.

“A lot. I can stabilize someone’s vitals, keep them alive until a healer steps in.

I can track an Avid by their unique frequency.

I can mess with power grids or short-circuit machines.

And I can amplify an Avid’s power for a short time.

Make them stronger, faster, more... potent. ”

I straighten in my chair, alarmed but also intrigued. “Wait, how do you even do that?”

“Every Avid has a bioelectric signature,” Bash explains.

“Think of it like a fingerprint, but for their powers. My gift lets me tap into that frequency and amplify it. But that’s not the most interesting part.

” He stands and strides toward a long cylindrical machine in the corner of the lab, gesturing for me to follow.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I trail after him. “What does this do?” I ask, watching as he presses a few glowing buttons on its sleek surface.

“This,” he says, patting the machine fondly, “is something I built to work in tandem with my gift. It’s like an amplifier for the signals I sense, but it does more than that. It turns those signals into something tangible.”

I watch him walk over to a wall of white cabinets and refrigerators opening one, pulling out a small orb that glimmers faintly in his palm. He tosses it toward me, and I scramble to catch it, nearly dropping it in my lap.

On closer inspection, the orb is mesmerizing.

It looks alive—an ever-shifting swirl of stars, galaxies, and structures unfathomable, like the night sky captured only brighter and condensed into a bottle.

I hold it up to the light, and the swirling contents shimmer, almost like they’re responding to my movements.

“Do you like it?” Bash asks, proud.

I can’t tear my eyes away. “What... What is it?”

He takes a moment, letting the suspense hang before finally saying, “I call it Avidian.”

“Avidian,” I repeat. “Clever. What does it do?”

Bash steps closer, taking the orb from my hands. “With my gift and this machine, I’ve learned how to extract the essence from Avids—the very core of their powers—and make it tangible. It’s pure, concentrated essence.”

I stare at him, a chill creeping up my spine. “You’re telling me that’s what our power looks like after you...extract it?” My eyes widen slightly, caught between fascination and horror.

“Precisely,” Bash says, unflinching. “It’s not just power in its raw form—it’s potential. Bottled and ready to be used by anyone.”

“Used?” My stomach twists. “You mean someone can take this and...borrow our abilities?”

Bash nods, his expression turning serious. “That’s the idea. A single inhale, and someone could temporarily wield the power of the Avid it came from.”

I take a step back, the implications hitting me all at once. “And who decided that was a good idea?”

Bash shrugs, his easy charm momentarily dimmed. “The world isn’t kind to Avids, Kat. We’ve been exploited for generations. This could make a huge difference. For a little while, at least.”

I look at the orb again, its swirling contents almost hypnotic. Beautiful and dangerous all at once.

“What happens to the Avid after you take their power from them?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know the answer. My fingers fidget against my leg, bracing for something awful.

Bash shakes his head quickly, his expression softening. “No, Kat, it’s not like that. I can’t take their power. An Avid’s gift is part of who they are—it’s constantly evolving, replenishing itself. It’s not something you can completely remove, even if you wanted to.”

I narrow my eyes, studying his face for any sign of deception. “So you take a piece of it? And the Avid feels nothing?”

He exhales, leaning back against the counter.

“The process is painless. They don’t lose anything, and their power isn’t weakened in any way.

It’s like drawing a drop of blood for a test—what I extract is so small that they’d never notice it was gone.

And because their essence is tied to their bioelectric field, it regenerates naturally.

The only symptom I’ve seen is fatigue for a few hours, as if you used too much power. ”

I bite the inside of my cheek, my gaze dropping to the orb in his hand. “And what about me? If you put me in that machine, what would it pull from me?”

Bash tilts his head, his sharp blue eyes studying me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed. “Irina mentioned you can see the dead. Is that true?”

I gulp, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Yes, but it’s not like I see dead people walking around all day. I have to will it—and sometimes I have to cross the veil,” I explain, giving him the short version.

“It’d pull the essence of your gift,” Bash says, his tone thoughtful, almost reverent. “Your connection to the dead, the way you see and interact with spirits. It’d be pure and raw, like capturing a piece of the veil itself. And if someone used it, they’d see the dead too, for a little while.”

The idea is unnerving, cold and unwelcome. “That sounds horrifying.”

“Or incredible,” Bash counters, his lips quirking into a faint grin. “Depends on how you look at it.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “You really are a scientist through and through, aren’t you? Always looking for the potential, not the consequences.”

Bash chuckles, spinning the orb between his fingers like it’s a toy instead of the bottled essence of someone’s power. “Can’t blame me for being curious. Curiosity’s what got us this far, after all.”

“I guess so.” I cross my arms as the weight of the situation settles on me. “So how effective is this stuff? How long does it last? Can an Avid use another Avid’s power, or is this something for regular people?”

Bash’s grin widens. He clearly loves questions—or being the one with all the answers.

“This orb is the largest quantity we keep. If you inhaled it all, it’d last a good twelve to twenty-four hours.

But in the field, something like this would be way too bulky to carry.

We collect smaller vials instead. A vial typically lasts about thirty minutes—enough to get the job done. ”

My mind races, piecing together the implications.

“So you’re already using these when you go undercover?

Solace is using them? Malachi has these vials?

” The thought of Malachi keeping this from me rankles, even though I know he doesn’t owe me every secret.

Still, this is a lot to drop on someone all at once.

“No, not yet,” Bash says, shaking his head. “It’s still being tested. Atlas has used it in his garden, and we’ve been trialing it in controlled environments, but we haven’t taken it out into the real world. It’s risky, because in the wrong hands...” He grimaces.

“Oh, so you do think about the consequences,” I say, a little too smug. “But they don’t stop you from playing god.”

His grin fades, replaced by a more serious expression.

“We’re careful,” he says firmly. “But this could give us an edge. We want to take down the Volkov family—yes—but they’re only one family.

There are dozens more leading this country into the ground.

The districts are suffocating, Kat. People are suffering. And I don’t see another way forward.”

I fall silent.

My world under Marco’s thumb suddenly feels so much smaller, more isolated. I’d ignored the chaos outside, pretending it wasn’t my problem. But now it’s impossible to ignore.

How will I ever go back after seeing all of this?

“How are you feeling? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Malachi says from across the table, his eyes studying me like he’s trying to gauge the weight of the day on my shoulders.

After leaving the Depths, we picked up takeout for dinner, and now I’m cozied up in the booth side of the breakfast nook, savoring chicken tacos. I glance at him between bites, considering my answer.

“I’d say that’s an understatement,” I reply with a smirk. “But I’m okay. Hopeful. Maybe. I dunno—anxious?” I say.

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” he says, nodding as he digs into one of his steak tacos. Silence falls between us, the comfortable kind that settles when you’re both too focused on food to fill the air with small talk.

Then my thoughts overflow. “What do you see happening? I mean, what’s going to happen when Marco’s ready for me? Is he going to try to come here? Will he want you to bring me back? And...how am I supposed to go back to living like that after seeing all of this?”

I drop my taco onto the plate, suddenly not as hungry.