Page 98 of Avidian
My fingers itch to wrap around his neck, to do anything that would wipe that grin off his face. But I know better. I’m not strong enough. Not here, not now.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
Orin’s smile widens, sharp and full of malice. “You don’t get to ask questions.” He shakes his head like I’m a misbehaving child, and the urge to lunge at him becomes almost unbearable. Maybe I can rake my nails across his smug face or knee him where it counts. It wouldn’t fix anything, but damn it would feel good.
“You and my brother had quite a night. Things got really hot in that cabin. Who knew what a woman you’ve become?”
He leers at my clothes, and bile rises in my throat. He saw us. He heard us. My skin crawls, humiliation and rage warring inside me. I clench my fists to keep from showing any sign of weakness.
“You were looking good under all this,” he says, gesturing with a lazy smirk that makes me want to vomit.
For a split second, I imagine the sound of his nose breaking beneath my fist. It’s almost enough to make me lose control. Almost. Instead, I grit my teeth and glare at him, letting my hatred do the talking for now.
“I’ve got to give it to my brother. He really has a way with women.” Orin chuckles, his tone light, but every word feels like a dagger. I force myself to take a steadying breath.
Malachi.
God, I didn’t even think to scream for him when I was running—not that he would’ve heard me. I hope he’s okay. What if he was captured too?
No, he’d be here if that were the case.
But he went back to the cabin to get me... He must have been horrified to see the back door open, find me missing, and piece together the chaos I left behind.
“Did you read the journal? Did you at least solve the case while digging your demon claws into my little brother?”
I sneer at him, clenching my fists to keep from lashing out. Like I’m some kind of monster who tainted Malachi. Please.
“I haven’t yet,” I answer flatly, knowing better than to provoke him further.
He stares me down. “Do you have it with you?” he asks, his voice low, a barely-contained threat.
I open my jacket, slowly unzipping the inner pocket and pulling out Carmen’s journal. My fingers brush against the Avidian vial tucked inside, and I quickly zip the pocket back up, keeping it hidden. They can’t know about that. Not Orin, not Marco—no one.
“It’s here,” I say, holding up the journal.
“Good.” His lips curl into a cruel grin. “You can read it now. Father will want answers when we get there, and I told him I’d make sure you have them ready.”
The knot in my stomach tightens further. Marco. Of course. My mouth feels dry as I swallow.
“Can I read on the bed?” I ask. “I can’t focus with you staring at me like that.” My excuse feels weak, but it’s all I can manage under his oppressive gaze. Really, I need to get away from him—need space to think, to act, to destroy the evidence of the Avidian before we land.
Orin narrows his eyes, studying me for a long, tense moment. With a wave of his hand, he says, “Go.”
I don’t wait for him to change his mind. I’m on my feet and heading toward the back of the plane before he can say anotherword. My heart pounds in my chest as I step into the small bedroom, close the door behind me, and finally exhale.
Get it together, Kat. Focus.
I decide to hold off on the Avidian for now. If I’m going to use it, I need all the pieces first. Whether we’re heading to Viktor’s or back to Marco’s, I have time to figure this out. No need to rush.
I take a few steadying breaths, forcing my nerves to settle.
Everything is going to be okay.
Sliding onto the bed, I pull the journal open and start flipping through the pages, skimming for anything useful. Carmen’s handwriting is small and neat, looping across the paper in a way that feels oddly personal. Mostly they are mundane entries about her life—a few mentions of some new guy she’s seeing, scattered complaints about her job, and a running list of grievances about how awful everyone is.
The more I read, the more I feel a pang of sympathy for her. It sounds like her life at Viktor’s estate was hell. Not that I’d expect anything else—it’s Viktor, after all. But seeing it like this, in her own words, makes it all hit differently. She was trapped in a life she hated, surrounded by people who treated her like shit. I wonder if she ever felt as hopeless as I have.
I flip to the final entry, and the first couple of lines stop me cold.
