Page 34 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

He has the Syndicate, sure, and they’re good—hell, they’re better than good. But Marco? He’s a monster, and monsters don’t fall easily.

“I know you believe that,” I say, treading carefully, “but I know Marco. Killing him isn’t one option of many; it’s the only option. And when that time comes, it’s not going to be as simple as you think. He’s still your father.”

Malachi’s expression hardens, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or guilt.

“Do you think I haven’t thought about that? Every single day, Kat. I’ve made my peace with what I have to do. He’s not my father anymore—not in any way that matters. He hasn’t been for a long time.”

I search his face, trying to gauge if he really means it. If he truly knows what he’s walking into.

“In the meantime,” he says, breaking the heavy silence, “I know what we’re doing today.”

The shift in his tone catches me off guard, and I blink at him, my thoughts scattered. “What do you mean?”

A sly smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see. It’s going to be therapeutic.”

Therapeutic? Knowing Malachi, that could mean anything from target practice to a fight ring.

“Don’t worry about the why—tell me if you think it will work,” Malachi says to Bash, standing in front of the cabinet filled with small vials and swirling orbs of Avidian. His tone is sharp, urgent, and it sets my nerves on edge.

Bash runs a hand through his dark curls, typing something furiously into the machine beside him. “I don’t know,” he admits, not looking up. “I’ve never tried it on a power like hers before. What she can do isn’t tangible—like creating fire or manipulating elements. But in theory, it should work.”

Malachi nods, like that vague answer is all he needed to hear, but I’m not convinced. “Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “Didn’t you tell me you could amplify an Avid’s power for a short time? How does that work?”

Bash glances at Malachi then back at me, his brow arching in curiosity. “I did,” he says slowly, clearly wondering where I’m going with this.

“Then that’s a much better idea,” I press.

“Amplify my power tonight. Let’s see what happens.

Putting me in this machine, pulling some piece of my gift to test it out on Malachi?

That’s risky. Even if it worked perfectly, I don’t think you’re ready to project with me,” I say, glancing from Bash back to Mal.

Malachi turns, his jaw tight, his hands braced on the edge of the counter. “And what happens if I do nothing? You go into the veil alone, like always, and I’m left standing here with no way to protect you.”

Before I can respond, Bash speaks up. “Wait a minute, did something happen between you two in the last couple of days?” There’s a glint of suspicion in his eyes that makes me flush.

“No,” I say quickly, shooting Malachi a look that dares him to contradict me. “And I think you need to tell him he’s being irrational. Tonight, we test the amplification theory. End of discussion.”

Bash leans back in his chair, his grin widening. “Mmm-hmm. Sure, Kat. No tension here at all.”

Malachi lets out a long exhale, his hand dragging down his face. “Fine. We’ll try it your way, but not tonight. Let’s do it tomorrow during the day. Is that okay?”

I nod, relieved to have won this round. I need to get a grip on this case fast.

“This feels awkward to do while I’m wearing a dress. People are looking at us,” I mutter, glancing toward the gym floor, where groups are practicing sparring techniques or watching from the bleachers.

“It’s even better that you’re wearing a dress,” Malachi counters with a smirk, stepping closer. “Real-world scenarios, Kat. You’re not always going to be in gym clothes when something goes down. Besides, no one’s looking because of your dress.”

I shoot him a skeptical look as he moves behind me, slipping his arm around my waist in a mock grab.

And I think I might go on a while letting him believe I’m weak.

“Alright, here’s the deal—if you can’t escape like this,” he begins, tightening his hold slightly, “you stomp on his foot, elbow him in the kidney, or?—”

“Hit him in the dick?” I interrupt with a grin.

“That’ll work. Whatever you do, don’t grab his arms and try to wrestle free. You’re not strong enough to flip someone like me over, and it won’t hurt him,” he says, releasing me.

“Good to know,” I say sweetly before immediately elbowing him in the gut.

“Low blow,” he chuckles, rubbing his stomach.

“How many Avids are here anyway? What can they all do? I want to know more about their gifts. Maybe someone can help me understand mine better.”

“Curiosity suits you,” he teases, dodging when I try to poke him in the ribs. “There’s a lot to learn, but tonight,” he starts, pausing to give me an unreadable look, “I was thinking we could do something you probably haven’t done in years.”

I cross my arms, tilting my head. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

Malachi grins, stepping toward me again. “Have fun.”

“Fun?” I arch a brow, stepping out of reach. “Define fun.”

“Let loose. Stop worrying about who’s watching or what’s happening next. The case can wait until tomorrow,” he says.

I turn to face him fully, catching his sly grin.

“You mean do something crazy?” I ask, throwing his own words back at him, the memory of that night in the park surfacing between us.

“Exactly,” he replies, and the intensity in his gaze sparks something reckless in me. Something that makes me want to seize the night, as he put it before.

“Come on, Mal, you’re going too easy on her,” Rain calls out as she approaches. She’s dressed in fitted training gear, her purple hair braided back today, and I notice a faint scar above her left eye that only adds to her no-nonsense demeanor.

“We’re letting off some steam,” Malachi says, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not starting a full training regimen yet.”

Rain doesn’t seem to care. She steps into the ring without waiting for an invitation and waves him off. “Get out. Let me show her how to really defend herself.”

I glance at Malachi, who hesitates. His eyes linger on me, reluctant, like he’s expecting something to go wrong. I almost want to roll my eyes—if he thinks I can’t handle this, he’s got another thing coming.

Rain cracks her neck and rolls her shoulders like she's about to take on a heavyweight champion. “Alright, new girl,” she says, grinning, her eyes gleaming with mockery. “Come at me. Let’s see if you’re more than just talk.”

I raise an eyebrow, sizing her up. "Is this really necessary?"

She doesn’t answer, and I look over at Malachi again, but Rain is already on me. “Don’t look at him. Focus on me.”

Before I can respond, she’s coming at me, faster than I expect. Her fist taps lightly against my arm, more a reminder than an attack. “Come on, that’s it?” she sneers. “Fight back. You don’t want to be a disappointment, do you?”

I clench my jaw, feeling the irritation simmer.

She’s underestimating me, and that’s a mistake.

I throw a punch, aiming for her shoulder.

She blocks it easily, and I let my training kick in.

I’ve never had to use it outside of Marco’s gym before, but I can take this bitch and show her I’m not someone to be walked all over—not here—not when I don’t have to obey anyone’s rules.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Rain taunts, circling me like a predator. “Hit me like you mean it, or are you all talk?”

My blood boiling, I swing again, this time putting some real force behind it, but she catches my arm in midair and twists, sending me crashing to the mat with humiliating ease. The crowd murmurs, some laughing, some watching in silence.

I push myself up quickly, my face hot with embarrassment and fury. I glare up at her, she stands over me with that smug look still plastered on her face.

“That all you’ve got?” she says, circling me. “No wonder Mal’s going easy on you. You’ll never make Solace like this.”

I bite back the retort rising in my throat, but something inside me snaps. Who the hell does she think she is? I don’t need Solace, and I definitely don’t need her approval. My fists clench, but I hold back—a little.

Rain smirks wider and takes a step back, giving me room. “Alright, precious, let’s see if you’ve got more than a pretty face.”

The insult hits a nerve, and I’m done. I stand up straighter, wiping my palms on my sides, determination setting in.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I move fast, landing a clean punch to her mouth before she can react.

I step back, watching as shock flashes across her face.

She spits blood, and for a moment I think I’ve won.

But then that dark gleam returns to her eyes, and I know this isn’t over.

It’s going to take a lot more than one hit to appease her appetite for fighting.

Her lips twitch into a twisted smile. “Nice try,” she mutters, before lunging at me, pulling me off balance.

Her grip on my wrist is tight, and before I can recover, she drives a punch into my side.

I gasp as pain shoots through my body, but I won’t let her control me.

Not now, not ever. I slam my knee into her gut, forcing her back.

We both hit the ground, rolling and scrambling, limbs tangled in a chaotic mess. She’s strong, but she’s not faster than me. I fight through the pain, pushing myself to stay on top.

Rain drills an elbow into my chest, the impact sharp. I grit my teeth, shoving the pain aside, and force myself on top of her, pinning her down. I’m ready to finish it, but she’s still thrashing, trying to break free.

I throw a punch at her jaw, solid and deliberate, like I’ve been taught. The first one lands, then a second. The third hits harder, a sickening crack echoing through the ring. I feel her resistance falter, and I know I’ve finally got her.

But as I pull back, trying to make my point without really hurting her, she seizes the opportunity. She yanks me down, and I hit the mat hard, my back slamming into the floor.

I look up at her, breathless. Really? This is how we’re doing it? I’m in a damn dress for crying out loud.

I throw my arm up to block her next move, but before I can react, Malachi’s voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. “Enough.”

The word hits like a thunderclap. Everything stops. I freeze, feeling the tension evaporate instantly.

Malachi steps into the ring, his presence commanding. Rain, panting and sweaty, freezes too, her expression turning from amusement to something else.

“Alright, new girl,” she says between labored breaths, “turns out you might be hiding a few surprises after all.”

She grabs my hand and yanks me to my feet, her strength surprising me. I sneer at her, but she laughs it off, unbothered.

“She’s tougher than you think, Mal. Don’t baby her. She just needs to learn how to throw a proper punch so she doesn’t break her wrist.”

“Yeah, work on that another day,” Malachi says, his hand on the small of my back as he guides me out of the gym.

A proper punch, yeah right. She knows I landed more than one proper punch on her face.

“Sorry about Rain,” he continues once we’re inside the elevator. “She can be a handful. But I’ll admit that was impressive back there. I don’t think Rain saw that coming. The look on her face when you pinned her down…” He laughs

“Don’t be sorry,” I reply, straightening my dress and fiddling with my hair. “It was kind of exhilarating. If I end up staying here, maybe I could join Solace. Be on your team. Do what you all do…after I train more.”

He pauses, and I feel his gaze on me, sharp and searching. The air between us shifts, and I glance up to find him giving me a look I can’t quite place. “Do you want to stay?” he asks.

I blink, caught off guard by the question. My initial reaction is to deflect, but instead I find myself looking away, mulling it over. “I mean, if we take care of Marco...if I’m free. I haven’t really let myself think about it much. I don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. We walk in silence through the tract house, the sound of our footsteps the only noise. Something feels different—charged—and I can’t shake the sense that Malachi is upset with me, or maybe deep in thought.

When we reach his truck, he climbs into the driver’s seat, the faint hum of the engine filling the silence as he starts it up. Finally, he breaks it.

“What do you want, Kat?” His voice is calm but weighted, like he’s laying something bare. His eyes lock with mine. “Because you are going to be free. You should let yourself start thinking about it. You’ll be able to go anywhere, do anything. No one will be controlling your life but you.”

The idea of freedom—of having no strings, no one pulling me in any direction—should feel exhilarating, but all I can focus on is the hollow ache it leaves behind.

I want to tell him.

I want you.

I want to go where you go. I want to fight alongside you, be a part of your world . But it sounds ridiculous in my head, too raw and vulnerable to say out loud.

Instead, I look out the window as the truck rolls forward, watching the snow-covered landscape blur past.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, my voice almost lost in the hum of the engine.