"Zoe's got priorities now."
The inspector put a comforting hand on the dark-haired man's shoulder and turned his head to signal to the waiter to give him another drink. It was the second time today that the young man heard the word “priority” used as an excuse to justify Zoe's absence.
Before pushing open the bar door, Faïz turned around to observe the inspector, still sitting at the counter. He found the situation surreal because this time he had the strange impression of not controlling anything around him. Everyone behaved differently when it came to Zoe. Something was missing from him, but what?
3
As I struggled to get Georgia's foot into her little shoes, my eyes were glued to the big clock in the living room.
"I'm going to be late again, damn it!" I grumbled, pushing with all my might.
Look at her, Zoe. Just take a second for her, William begged me in a whisper that seemed to come out of the corner of my head.
My daughter, sitting on the kitchen counter, sighed a little. As usual, she didn't talk much. I deduced that the situation must have annoyed her as much as it annoyed me. After many seconds of hard work, I finally managed to put both of her shoes on her feet, and then my hands rested on her shoulders.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?"
"Who's picking me up tonight?" she asked in a gloomy voice without looking at me.
"Uncle Eli," I replied, pulling back her hair.
Her eyes came back to me and my heart tightened. I should have been accustomed to the immense melancholy that inhabited her dark eyes. Yet each time I felt the same emotion: guilt. Will I ever be able to make her happy? I shook my head not to crack, not to let the emotion overwhelm me. It was the daytime. I left this to the night.
"And you know what?" I feigned the most cheerful tone possible.
Georgia looked at me. She looked so much like Faïz with that expression on her face.
"Your wings are ready! In a little while, you'll be a little angel again. Uncle Eli and his little buddy Condor did a great job."
Suddenly my daughter's irises emptied of their infinite sadness and bewilderment to give way to joy. Her smile split her face in half and dazzled her pale complexion. I helped her down from the counter and quickly grabbed her things and mine next to the front door.
"Mom? Uncle Eli wouldn't like it if you referred to Condor as his little buddy. He's always calling him an idiot."
"Yes, well, tough love!" I opened the door in a hurry to get inside the car.
"The feathers fall more and more often. The dragon man in my nightmares..."
"Georgia, hurry up, please. Just wear them less often. You're doing way too many things with them."
As she tried to follow me walking fast in the alley down the small path, I stopped abruptly, just before opening the car door. I looked up to observe the sky and saw that the daylight was different today, as if the Dome, with its opaque color, partially prevented the sun's rays from penetrating this veil with well-defined contours.
"Mom? What's going on?"
"Nothing, honey," I replied, quickly putting her in the backseat of the sedan.
My face must have been as white as hers for her to suddenly become worried, but again she fell silent, her eyes full of questions.
On my way to work, I decided to call Asarys now that I was alone. She answered immediately.
"You're lucky! I'm going to a meeting and I won't be available all day."
"Sorry, David left late last night and earlier with Georgia we were in a rush. Did you notice the color of the Dome this morning?"
I raised my head to the sky again.
"Yes," my friend confessed to me, annoyed, "The ghosts are among us. Danger is everywhere. The population is in danger."
"The what?"
"It's all in William's investigation report. You really need to look at it."
"Asarys, I'm going to the basement of the Los Angeles Times. I'll stop by after work and pick it up. OK?"
"No!" she talked quicker, "The report is in Faïz's hands. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to get it from him."
My hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel and my jaw tightened. I was pretty sure Asarys did it on purpose, "You can't be serious? I, well, you know that…"
"I had no choice," she interrupted me, "He left me no choice, Zoe. I'm sending you his address..."
The conversation ended abruptly. The thick walls of the parking lot had put an end to our discussion.
After parking in my spot, I cut the engine with a knot in my stomach and knocked my head twice against the headrest behind me. Shit!
As I walked the last few feet in the basement that separated me from the exit, immersed in my reflections, I saw a man dressed in all black who was leaning against the wall, right next to the elevator doors. When he saw me, he straightened up suddenly, as if it was me he was waiting for. As a reflex, I put my hand in my bag to grab my tear gas can, ready to use it if I needed it. When I reached him, the man scratched his throat and took his hands out of his pockets.
"Mrs. Reyes?"
"You are?" I asked defensively.
"Yes, sorry," he apologizes. "Stephen Martinez, FBI."
I frowned, suspicious. The man looked at me, visibly confused. I decided to ignore him, unwilling to communicate with a government official. He shook his head vigorously, uncomfortable with my attitude towards him. He then pulled out his card and introduced himself again.
"I worked on the last case with William," he confided to me before the elevator doors opened.
My breath froze and I let the elevator leave, empty. I turned to the agent who now had my full attention.
"I promised to protect you and your daughter when the time came," said the officer, looking serious.
A sorrow settled in me and I plunged my stare into the officer’s to desperately attach myself to something, in fear of sinking at that moment into nothingness with the impression that the ground could open at any moment under my feet and carry me away into the depths of the Earth. The agent hesitated for a second and then moved closer to me. It was at that moment that I noticed his gray, almost silvery pigmented sloes and his eyes surrounded by a small purplish line.
"He's coming to get me, isn't he?" I asked in a low voice while continuing to stare at him.
"You, your loved ones and Georgia."
"No!" I cried with a hand in front of my mouth. "She has nothing to do with this war. She has nothing that can interest him."
"She's the daughter of a Leviathan and an unusual woman. Georgia is the weak spot for all of you. The occult masters are aware of that."
"What was William's last wish?"
The man stared at me through his long black eyelashes. He seemed to be looking for words, "He asked Georgia's biological father to find out about his daughter. According to him, he's the only one who can protect her."
"No way!" I decided coldly as I called the elevator again. "My daughter already has a hard enough life as it is. Faïz wouldn't be able to give her what she needs. I assure you, Mr. Martinez, you'll only make things worse."
When the elevator doors opened, I rushed inside. The officer just stared at me, his features tinged with severity as if he regretted knowing too much. Suddenly, in a reflex, he blocked the doors with his foot and handed me a map with his contact info marked on it.
"Call me any time of the day or night."
His words weren't enough to calm my growing anxiety.
Jul was waiting for me in my office. He was too busy flipping through the notes for my next article and didn't hear me coming. So I cleared my throat to let him know I was here. Surprised, he immediately closed my notebook and put it back in its place. He looked at his watch and pouted with intrigue.
"It's the first time you've ever been this late," Jul remarked to me.
"I was held up downstairs in the parking lot by a visitor."
"Are you aware of the device the government put in place this morning?"
"No," I replied fr
owning.
"The State and local authorities are taking several important steps to counter a threat that may soon affect our nation. These include a future plan for the lockdown of all citizens."
I pretended not to understand what he was talking about. "It wouldn't be the first time," I shrugged, "California holds the record for this type of prevention."
"Yes, you're right," Jul admitted as he turned around to look out at the city through the big windows, "I suggest we both work on it. We could investigate this case and come up with an article in a few days or weeks."
My eyes scanned the room looking for an escape route that didn't exist, "Jul... we have a lot of work to do. Other people could take care of it."
My colleague, stunned by my lack of initiative and low voice, observed me insistently as if he was looking for an explanation for my behavior, but all he said before he left my office was, "All right!"
A sigh of relief quietly escaped from me.
"I'll investigate this case on my own," Jul said confidently, "I have a feeling that the government is hiding something serious from us and I will find out."
Before I could say a word, he disappeared from the room. His sudden interest in the internal politics of our country was beyond me. I probably should have agreed to do this article on Faïz and his body count. Jul would have had something else to talk about, because the greatest quality of this man, was to always go to the bottom of things and never let go of the subject he had in mind. I rushed to the phone in my office and dialed Lexy.
"It's no good!" she cried out angrily, "It's not the time for me to wake up yet."
"Shut up! It's urgent. Look, I've found you a distraction for the next few weeks, on top of your job. You're going to spend some time with my colleague, Jul. The man you hate the most in the world. And most importantly, I'm counting on you to keep his head spinning until he forgets his name."
Twenty-seven minutes that I was sitting in my car, parked at the top of this huge avenue overlooking the Downtown! Twenty-seven minutes that I was watching this stream of people coming and going along it! Twenty-seven minutes that the ball that was forming in my throat kept getting bigger and bigger! I couldn't even turn my face towards the imposing building on my right. My hand came to find the keys still stuck near the steering wheel. I almost tore them off with violence to give up restarting my car and escape the inevitable. Five years, when I had only seen him on the covers of newspapers and magazines.
Thirty minutes! I took a deep breath. Discouraged, I opened my car door to meet Faïz.
After telling the host that I was coming, the receptionist, a platinum blonde woman, gave me a big smile, "Top floor, Mr. Mattew is waiting for you."
She then pointed her finger towards the elevator and wished me a good evening.
I pressed the button on the ninety-eighth floor. As the cabin rose, my heartbeat quickened. I felt like I was running out of air. The anguish was slowly suffocating me. I hated myself at that moment for feeling so much emotion, just for him.
The doors opened onto a small corridor where I hesitantly stepped in. The beige painted walls gave the place a delicious feeling of comfort. At the end of it appeared a vast space with a chic and elegant design. This exceptionally luxurious setting offered a magnificent view of the city. The furniture and frames on the walls were carefully chosen to match the materials of this apartment. In the middle of the immaculate white room was a large table where only a computer was installed. The air conditioning of the machine mixed with the soft voice of Corinne Bailey floating in the room. Anxious, I scanned the room without daring to move. Outside, a big balcony gave a feeling of escape from our daily routine.
"Faïz?" I called in a barely audible voice as I walked towards the balcony.
I rubbed my hands, hoping to make them less sweaty. The scent of his cologne brought back memories that had been repressed for a long time. My legs were threatening to give up under my weight. Suddenly, everything froze in time and so did the singer's voice. I closed my eyes and refused to turn around. He was here, somewhere in that huge living room. His gaze on my back weighed tons. Nothing had prepared me for such a shock wave.
"How are you?"
The timbre of his voice came curling up in my flesh. I swiveled gently to face the man who had left me on that beautiful sunny day five years earlier. The pain of that memory hadn't aged a day. At the entrance of the room, Faïz was leaning with one shoulder against the wall and staring at me with his gaze so dark, so piercing. His emotions hidden behind his closed and impassive face left no clue to what he was feeling at that precise moment. Violent suffering crushed my chest.
"Good evening, I came to pick up Will's report." I was having a hard time articulating it.
I followed the gaze of Faïz that stopped on the table. Next to the computer keyboard was a large file. The desire to take it and run away with it crossed my mind. I crossed the living room to grab the file.
"What did you think?" I asked as I looked through the notes left by William.
To tell the truth, his opinion didn't matter to me. Leaving this apartment in the next two minutes was my only concern. I carefully avoided meeting his gaze again by pretending to be absorbed in my reading. I touched those little letters with my fingertips, doing my best to hide all my sadness that woke up to see that familiar handwriting again.
"I'm sorry," said Faïz softly.
Spontaneously, my eyes went up to him. His posture always gave him that captivating charisma. The first two buttons on his shirt were open and the sleeves, folded over his forearms, revealed perfectly designed protruding muscles like before. He supported my gaze and although he was standing in front of me, he seemed as distant as he was inaccessible. A feeling of fury and bitterness mingled within me.
"What are you sorry for, Faïz? For coming back suddenly? For William's death?"
His jaw tightened. He uncrossed his arms and straightened up by putting his hands in his pockets. His gaze, as hard as marble, didn't leave me. He tried to control his anger as best he could. His chest lifted to the rhythm of his breath.
"The information came to me too late," he defended himself. "Do you really think I would have let William get killed without me lifting a finger?"
"I don't know!" I furiously cried, raising my hands to the sky, "After all, you're capable of anything."
Faïz began to walk around the room with a confident walk while nervously running his hands through his hair. He pointed his index finger at me, "Don't blame me for this, Zoe. Everything, but not his death!"
"He should never have left us. It should have been..."
I froze suddenly, just like him. His eyes were wrinkled. He moved slowly towards me, his eyebrows furrowed. I put my hand to my mouth, realizing with terror what I was about to tell him.
"It should have been?" murmured Faïz, now standing right in front of me, "Finish your sentence!"
"No, my words have overtaken my thoughts. That's not what I wanted..."
"Finish your sentence!" he ordered me, with a crazy look in his eyes.
I opened my mouth and immediately closed it again, lost. My eyelids closed as tightly as I could.
"I don't want to have this conversation with you!" I hurriedly gathered the notes from William's investigation report and put them away.
"It's too easy to categorize people as an angel or demon, Zoe. Your problem is you've always been too extreme in your judgments."
An annoyed laugh escaped from me as the only answer. It was with the greatest difficulty that I managed not to throw all that paperwork on the floor with rage. Faïz, who was trying to get me out of my hinges, didn't make my task any easier.
"You're not the only one who lost everything!" He insisted, his voice dripping with acid.
Shocked, I raised my eyes to his piercing gaze, "Everything? No, not yet. I haven't lost everything yet.”
My throat tightened. Faïz took a step back, a glimmer of anxiety crossed his eyes. This man with unfailing confidence sudden
ly seemed so fragile. Destabilized by his seduction so powerful, I resisted the urge to comfort him.
"I'm going back to New York at the end of the week," he confided to me in a softer voice, "Believe me, my goal isn't to come and invade your life again."
"It's better this way," I confessed calmly, "We all have changed, with different priorities for each of us."
He bit his lower lip and stared at me, perplexed, "The word 'priority' seems to have become your middle name," he murmured pensively, "Everyone tends to use it a little too much when it comes to you."
My cheeks suddenly began to get warm. I shrugged my shoulders and walked around him at a charging pace to get back to the exit of the apartment.
"I wish you all the best, in case we don't see each other again," I said as I walked away from him.
I hurried into the elevator by pressing the ground floor button several times without bothering to look up.
As I walked through the elevator doors, I let out a sigh of relief. My body, still tense from my meeting with Faïz, leaned against the marble wall in the hall of the building. Fortunately, he was leaving this weekend. This interview of a few minutes, filled with an overload of emotions, had completely turned me upside down.
"Mrs. Reyes? Would you like a glass of water?" asked the receptionist who had been staring at me worriedly from the front desk.
Lost in my thoughts, I forgot that I wasn't alone, "No, I'll be fine, thank you. Elevators aren't my thing," I declared to explain the state I was in.
Miss Blondy nodded slightly and placed a small midnight blue box on the counter in front of her and added, "It's from Mr. Mattew."
Surprised, I slowly straightened up and walked towards her. I watched, doubting, this little box. A strange feeling went through me. Faïz had given it to the receptionist as if he already knew how our meeting would end. He hadn't given us a chance.
DARK FAÏZ Book 3: Dawn never keeps its promises Page 3