Page 50 of Avidian
I huff and turn to the window, looking out to see the view. I can see the stables in the distance, and the large icicles hanging off the edge of the roof sparkling in the sunlight that’s trying hard to peek through the clouds.
“I guess this’ll work,” I finally say, glancing back at him over my shoulder.
“Good,” he says, the earlier tension gone. “Because it looks like you’re stuck with me, Kat. At least for a fortnight.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, sinking into the fluffy covers that practically swallow me. “Are you going to fill me in on what’s going on here?” I ask, watching him as he fiddles with the straps on one of the bags.
He looks up, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes, gesturing around us. “You live with Marco’s sister. How does that work? Is she...” I pause, unsure how to put it.
“Is she like him?” he finishes for me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, she’s not like the rest of our family. She’s great—you’re going to love her.”
Something about his easy answer doesn’t sit right with me, and a quiet unease starts to creep into my chest. “Great,” I say slowly, though I’m not convinced. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”
Malachi shifts his weight, his expression turning thoughtful. “Look, there’s a lot I could tell you, but it’ll all make way more sense if I show you.”
“Show me what?” I press, my patience already thinning.
He grins, like he knows how much this is driving me insane. “Let’s start with a cup of coffee. We’ll catch up with my aunt, and then I’ll take you to see the real operation.”
He’s being coy, and it’s irritating as hell. “You could tell me now,” I mutter, crossing my arms.
“And ruin the surprise?” He tilts his head, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Trust me, it’s worth the wait.”
I huff but stand anyway. “Fine, but this coffee better be life-changing if you’re making me wait for answers.”
He chuckles, heading for the door. “Oh, you’re in for way more than coffee.”
The house iswarm and inviting when we return, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as we settle down by one of the fireplaces, warm mugs in hand.
“My brothers...we’ve never agreed on what it means to lead, let alone how to treat people. Malachi found his way here because he understands something my father and brothers never could—power doesn’t have to mean cruelty,” Irina says, her voice even but weighted with history.
She takes a slow sip from her mug, glancing between me and Malachi like she’s trying to measure how much to share.
“I used to come here every summer as a kid,” Malachi adds, leaning back in his chair, his expression softening with the memory. “Gary and Orin came too, at first. Back then, this place felt like freedom. But once they started buying into my father’s way of thinking, they stopped coming. That’s when things changed. We were close once.”
He pauses, a shadow crossing his face. “Eventually, I begged my father to let me stay here. He figured I was too much of a disappointment at home and hoped my aunt could knock some sense into me.” His lips quirk in a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Little does he know...” Irina murmurs with a soft, wry laugh.
I try to piece together this family dynamic that feels both alien and too close to home. “So you help Malachi save people like me?” I ask, leaning forward. “And there’s an entire organization behind this?”
Irina places her mug down, folding her hands over her lap, her gaze steady. “The Syndicate,” she says. “That’s who we are. Yes, we help Avids who have been trafficked. We find them,free them, and give them a safe place to rebuild their lives. But that’s only part of what we do. The families—the ones like my brothers’—they’re trying to keep the world in chains, ruling through fear, control, and violence. We’re fighting to break that system.”
“You’re fighting the families? To what end?” I ask, still trying to untangle the enormity of what she’s saying.
“We want to restore democracy,” Irina says. “A government of the people, by the people—like what existed before humanity burned the world to the ground. We want to dismantle the districts and strip the ruling families of their power. The world needs more than tyrants hoarding what’s left of it. It needs hope.”
I lean back, the idea sparking something deep in my chest. “Democracy. I remember learning about that in school, but it always felt, I don’t know, like a fairy tale or propaganda. Something unattainable.”
“It’s not unattainable. The Syndicate has scientists and strategists working tirelessly. We’re on the cusp of breakthroughs that could level the playing field. What my brothers—and others like them—fear most is losing control. That’s exactly what we’re planning to take from them.”
What she says swirls in my mind, part of me wanting to believe it possible, part of me hesitating. “And, Malachi, where do you fit into this grand plan?”
He straightens in his seat, raising his eyebrows and exhaling. “What I do is...more specialized. My team and I handle the dirtier side of things. We infiltrate operations, gather intel, extract Avids, and remove threats when necessary. Call it deep-cover work, if you like. The Syndicate handles the big picture. We’re the scalpel they use to cut out the rot.”
“So you’re like a special task force,” I say, starting to see the picture more clearly.
