Page 57 of Avidian (The Demon and the Savior #1)

“I’m sorry, Father,” Malachi says, stepping back, his jaw tight with barely restrained fury. “But I’ll be taking more than your pet tonight. Let’s start with your life.”

I snap my head toward him, my heart lurching. Is he serious? Is he really going to do it?

Marco chuckles, the sound hollow and biting, as though he can’t fathom the possibility. “You’re not going to kill me,” he says with smug certainty. “You don’t have what it takes. I was telling Katja how you have too much heart. You always have.”

He leans back in the chair, not even trying to break free of the restraints, dark amusement dancing in his eyes, like he’s toying with us even now.

But there’s something Marco isn’t seeing—something he’s underestimating.

Because the look on Malachi’s face isn’t hesitation. It’s cold, calculated rage.

I wonder if Marco’s wrong. Maybe Malachi does have what it takes. Maybe he’s had it all along.

“What does ‘where the wolves prowl’ mean?” Malachi demands.

I add, “And what the hell were those creatures near Jamie’s hunting cabin? Those weren’t wolves—those were monsters. What did you do to them?”

Marco looks casually at the fire, his expression infuriatingly calm, as if we’re discussing the weather. “You two have been busy. Dare I say, you might even make a good team. A pity you’re so determined to choose the wrong side.”

I roll my eyes. More games. More riddles. I want answers, not another fucking monologue.

Malachi doesn’t give Marco a chance to play coy.

In one fluid motion, he pulls out a knife and drives it into Marco’s thigh.

The blade sinks in deep, the sickening squish of metal against flesh making my stomach twist. Marco grunts, his fingers curling around the arms of his chair.

Shock flashes across his face for a moment before something twisted takes its place—a laugh.

Dark and low, it spills out of him like poison.

“Do you really think I don’t know what my sister’s been up to?

” Marco’s voice is a rasp of mock amusement, his teeth bared in a twisted grin.

“You think I don’t have someone on the inside?

That I haven’t been watching you and your Solace pet project?

Why do you think I let it go on so long?

” He leans forward slightly, despite the knife still lodged in his leg, like he’s sharing some grand secret.

“I allowed it because it benefits me. The Syndicate might be changing science, but don’t think for a second I’m not ahead of the curve.

I have my own creations—ones you haven’t even begun to comprehend. ”

Malachi’s jaw visibly tightens, and I cross my arms, stepping closer. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re two steps behind.”

Marco chuckles again, the sound more unhinged this time—like he’s teetering on the edge of sanity. “You think you’ve won? You haven’t even seen the board yet, girl. You haven’t seen the bigger picture.” He tips his head back, that guttural laugh sending goosebumps across my flesh.

It’s unnerving. I’ve never seen Marco this animated, this alive. Maybe it’s the drugs still running through his veins—or maybe it’s because he knows something we don’t. But beneath that deranged amusement, I see a man who knows his time is running out.

And I don’t plan on letting him die before he tells us everything.

“Why didn’t we find anything at the cabin?” Malachi asks, his gaze fixed on Marco.

Marco doesn’t flinch. “Son, you should’ve looked harder. I got the idea from you and the Depths, after all,” he says, shrugging what he can of his shoulders in his restraints.

I shake my head, disbelief creeping in. How did we miss it? The underground operation, hidden beneath our noses? We would’ve figured it out eventually, but time wasn’t on our side, and fucking Orin had to show up. I push the frustration aside, focus returning to the present.

Malachi opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, a knock echoes through the room.

The door swings open, and in steps a woman with long black hair, clad in the same tactical gear as Malachi.

My heart stutters, and I can’t help but wonder.

Is this the same woman who helped us save Aurora that night in the snow?

“Boss, the property’s secure. Everyone’s loaded up and waiting on your orders,” she says.

Malachi nods in acknowledgment, but his mind is elsewhere. “What about my brothers?”

She shakes her head, her expression cold. “No sign of them. They bailed the second they sensed trouble.”

I want to laugh. Fucking cowards, both of them.

“We should probably leave soon, before reinforcements show up,” she adds, the obvious truth hanging between us. Malachi nods in agreement, turning to walk back toward me as she exits.

Marco’s voice cuts through the tension. “You’re running out of time, son. And I don’t think you’ve got what it takes to do it. My leg may be one thing, but can you really put that knife through my heart?”

Malachi looks at me, his gaze intense. “I don’t have to have what it takes. Because she does.”

For a moment, time stills. I blink, my pulse quickening as the weight of what he’s saying sinks in. Malachi reaches out, his hand gently cupping my face. He faces me fully, ignoring Marco completely.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his voice low, the question hanging in the air between us. “After everything he’s done to you, say the word, and it’s yours. If not, I’ll handle it for both of us.”

A heavy beat thrums in my chest, and the answer bursts forth from me like I’ve been holding it back for far too long. “I want it,” I say, my voice steady, the conviction clear.

I’ve never been more certain in my life.

Marco needs to die.

The thought of whatever horrors he’s concocted in his underground lab makes my stomach twist. For so long, I believed he was the lesser evil—the good twin.

But now I see him for what he truly is. I have questions for Malachi, but right now none of that matters.

We need to find Marco’s lab, save the Avids, the animals.

..whatever souls are trapped down there, suffering through unspeakable things.

Malachi’s touch pulls me back to the moment. His fingers trail over my face again, grounding me. Then he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head before pulling away.

“I’ll give you privacy,” he says, handing me a large knife he pulled from his waistband. “You heard her—the property’s secure. I’ll be waiting for you out front when you’re ready.”

He walks to the door, not sparing a single glance at his father when Marco calls his name. “And don’t take too long, Kat,” Malachi adds. The door clicks shut behind him.

The room feels colder now, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the silence. I turn to face Marco, my body tense, my thoughts swirling. It’s the two of us now.

“Katja, I’ve been like a father to you. I saved you from that place—the life you would’ve had without me,” Marco says, his voice thick with conviction. He believes it. And that’s the fucked-up part.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in the shadow of death.

I’ve seen more of it than anyone should, and through it all, I’ve wondered what it would be like to end a life.

To be the one who pulls the trigger, who takes the life from someone else.

What it must feel like to do the unthinkable.

I’ve imagined killing Marco more times than I care to admit.

And now, standing here, I finally know I have what it takes.

I move around him, circling until I’m behind him. My hand wraps around the hilt of the knife, and I press it lightly against his throat, enough to make his skin tremble. He shudders, his breath catching. I lean in, my voice a whisper in the stillness.

“This is the devil’s work. And I’ll do it gladly.”

You wanted a demon, Marco? I’ll show you one.

I feel the weight of the blade in my hand, the steady pressure as I prepare to end him. But then something shifts. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a flicker of movement. I freeze. My heart skips, my mind reeling.

No, not now. Why now?

I close my eyes, willing the image to go away, but when I open them again, he’s closer—Cade…

my Cade. His presence is like a heavy weight, pulling at my chest. His green eyes burn into me, bright and unyielding.

His black hair falls over his forehead, like it always did.

He’s here. But he’s not saying anything.

I can’t do this. Why now?

My pulse pounds in my ears. I’ve never tried to communicate with his spirit before.

I’ve kept my distance, unwilling to let him haunt me.

But now, here he is, standing right in front of me—silent, staring.

He looks different but not, and I can’t breathe.

My heart aches, and my vision blurs. Why is he here?

Is this a sign? Am I about to make a mistake?

Did I somehow summon him? Did my subconscious call him to me because I’m about to kill Marco?

“Brian,” Marco says, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade of its own.

The sound of the knife hitting the marble floor rings in my ears.

I don’t even register dropping it. My hand trembles as I step back too far, the cool stone of the wall pressing against my back.

My breath comes in shallow bursts, unsure whether to clutch my chest or cover my mouth. My whole body shakes.

“Cade.”

When I say it, something inside me unravels. I can barely comprehend what’s happening.

He’s here.

He’s alive.

His nod is all the answer I need. “You’re alive… You’re Brian.” I can’t believe it. My mind spins, trying to make sense of the impossible.

I start shaking, my body betraying me, trembling with the weight of this revelation.

“Don’t cry, Kitty Kat,” he says.

I lose it. His voice, the same familiar sound I never thought I’d hear again, brings everything crashing down. The tears flood down my face, my stomach twisting as I try to catch my breath. This can’t be happening.

“But if?—”

“If you’re here, if you’re alive and you’re Brian, then—what have you done, Cade?” My voice cracks, tears slipping freely down my face as my hands tremble. But I don’t move. I can’t.

My body feels like it’s shutting down, as if this moment—this impossible moment—has stolen the strength from my limbs.

I let him wrap his arms around me. I let him pull me close, my head pressing against his chest, feeling the steady beat of a heart I thought was gone.

I tell myself it’s a hallucination, that none of this is real. But Marco saw him too.

How is this possible?

I don’t know how much time passes, but Cade says a few things—words I can’t process, not when the accident keeps replaying in my mind, when I saw him die, when I watched him die.

He was dead. And now he’s here.

Suddenly, a noise snaps me back to reality, distant but urgent. Before I can register it, Cade jerks me, his grip tightening as his eyes search mine. His face is taut, emotion flickering there.

And then I look past him.

Marco’s gone.

No!

I run to the chair, my pulse roaring in my ears as I stop short, staring at the sagging ropes where his body had been.

Panic claws at my throat, and I kneel down, my hands shaking as I reach for a single glass vial that lies on the floor, almost hidden in the shadows.

I pick it up, turning it over in my hand, feeling the weight of it—one single drop of dark, viscous liquid inside.

It’s not Avidian.

But what is it?

I look up at Cade, my stomach flips, my heart hammering, as his eyes study me, piercing through me like he knows every secret I’ve kept. Finally, my voice comes—broken but steady. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“What have you done, Cade?”

He shakes his head slowly and reaches for me, but I take an involuntary step back, half in shock and half afraid of what truth he’s about to reveal.

“You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent searching for you,” he murmurs. “How many times this moment has played out in my head. Over and over.”

He takes a step closer, and I don’t think I’m breathing. “You were always meant to be mine, and now... Now I can finally bring you home.”