Page 80 of Avidian
Orin’s grin widens, his hand lifting to rub his chin as if mulling over his next move. Irina shifts in her chair. Her gaze darts to where I’m staring, her expression torn between disbelief and dread, like she’s teetering on the edge of speaking but can’t quite bring herself to.
I don’t blame her. The energy in the room is suffocating.
“Anything else you’d like to add?” Orin finally says, his voice smooth but sharp, like he’s trying to bait Jamie—or me. “Or are we here to relive my rebellious youth? Why don’t we talk about the day you died, Uncle?”
Jamie chuckles, his translucent form tilting his head toward me. “I’ve got plenty to say, girl, but only if you’re smart enough to keep it to yourself.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, my lips pressing into a tight line. Of course he’d drop some cryptic shit and expect me to pick up the pieces. Typical.
“I don’t think your uncle’s a fan of yours,” I say, hoping to rattle Orin enough to end this charade.
Orin’s grin falters, and his fingers twitch against the table before he forces the smirk back into place.
“Tell my wife I love her,” Jamie says. I glance at Irina, repeating it, and watch as her eyes well with tears. She looks surprised, almost disbelieving. I wish I knew the story there—what kind of history lies tangled between these two. There’s pain in her expression, yes, but there’s something else I can’t name.
Jamie steps closer. “Don’t repeat what I’m about to say unless you’re absolutely certain who you can trust. My wife—you can trust her. She has a good heart.” His gaze locks with mine, and I nod ever so slightly.
“What’s happening?” Orin snaps, leaning closer, his fingers tightening on my leg like a vice.
I don’t dare look at him. “Nothing,” I lie, keeping my gaze fixed on Jamie. “He keeps fading in and out. I think he’s trying to hug his wife or something.” It’s the best excuse I can conjure under pressure.
Jamie’s expression hardens, his translucent form flickering slightly. “You’re looking for answers in all the wrong places. The truth you need to survive what’s coming can be found where the wolves prowl.” His voice lingers in my ears, even as he begins to dim. I blink at him, wanting to scream What does that mean? But Orin is right here, watching me like a hawk.
The sound of the front door opening echoes down the hallway, heavy footsteps approaching. Irina’s shoulders visibly relax, though her hands tremble slightly as she adjusts the tablecloth.
Jamie flickers once more, his form beginning to dissolve. His gaze shifts toward Irina one last time. “When you’re alone, tell her I’m sorry. I regret my actions, and all is well with us now...and forever.”
I nod as his image fades entirely. Malachi’s voice cuts through the room as he turns the corner. “What the fuck is going on here?”
He strides into the dining room, his dark eyes immediately zeroing in on Orin’s hand still resting on my leg. Tension radiates from him in waves, and Orin, of course, doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans back leisurely, as smarmy as ever.
“Family bonding,” Orin drawls, giving my leg a condescending pat before finally removing his hand. “You know, making the most of this precious time together. I even reunited Aunt Irina with Uncle Jamie.”
Malachi’s jaw tightens, his glare shifting to me briefly, likely checking for any signs that something’s wrong. I don’t say a word, but the way his eyes flicker over me is enough to send a calming ripple through my nerves.
“Outside. We need to talk,” Malachi orders as he stands rigid in the doorway. Orin lets out a low laugh, putting his hands up in mock surrender like this is all some kind of joke.
“I’ll see you soon, demon,” he whispers in my ear, his breath brushing against my skin, and I fight the urge to recoil. His words hang in the air like a threat, and I glare at him, refusing to let him see me flinch.
Orin rises from his chair, taking his time as if savoring the tension he’s created. He adjusts his jacket and flashes that contemptuous smile as he saunters toward Malachi. “It was great seeing you, Auntie,” he calls callously. Irina doesn’t respond, her hand clenching the edge of the table as she watches him go.
The front door slams shut behind them, and I spring to my feet, eager to see what happens next.
Chapter Twenty-Four
RULE 24 OF THE NEW ORDER: EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE CHAOS UNTIL THE RIGHT PIECE FALLS INTO PLACE—BUT NEVER MISTAKE DISORDER FOR DEFEAT.
“The living roomwill give you the best view,” Irina says as if reading my mind. I don’t waste a second, rushing toward it and creeping up to the window. I stay low, careful not to be seen, and peek through the curtains.
Malachi is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on Orin.
“You’re starting to make a habit of this,” Malachi says finally, his voice calm but laced with steel. “Poking around where you don’t belong.”
Orin shrugs, unbothered. “Looking out for family. Someone has to keep you in line, little brother.”
Malachi laughs to himself. He pushes off the frame, closing the space between them until he’s standing toe-to-toe with Orin.
“Family?” Malachi repeats. “You really want to talk about family? Because the way I see it, the only reason you’re still breathing is because I haven’t decided otherwise.”
