My phone started ringing just as I got in my car. I picked it up right away, "Mickaëlla? What's going on?"
"Oh, Zoe, I don't know how to say it," replied my friend on the other end of the phone, obviously annoyed.
"Tonight's performance is canceled, right?"
"Yes," sighed Mickaëlla, "We've already warned DJ Snake and the other headlining artists. The government has banned by decree all large gatherings on the territory. Festivals, concerts, and other shows are suspended until further notice."
I tilted my head back, "What a shitty day! We'll still continue with classes. Warn the kids' parents. They'll be so disappointed."
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow night at the local then. Have a good night."
After hanging up with my friend, I was about to start my car when my eyes fell on the small box on the passenger seat. My heart began to palpitate in my chest. With a hesitant frown, I grabbed the box and gently opened it. A flood of sadness, comparable to a tsunami, came over me as I discovered what was inside. I put a hand to my mouth to smother my sobs and hiccups. For a moment, I had returned to Eros, on this beach with small bluish, fluorescent diamonds, on my first date with Faïz. I was holding in my hands the necklace, decorated with stones, which had been given to us that evening by the islanders. In the middle, a large priceless jewel in the shape of a heart had been added. The characteristic of this precious stone was undoubtedly its dark color with red reflections.
I suddenly remember the words of Faïz: I'll give it back to you the day you've forgotten all about us. These words, which resounded in my head, ended me instantly.
FAÏZ
On the balcony, he looked up to observe the disturbing color of the Dome. His face hadn't seen a razor for a few days, and yet his slightly more neglected than usual appearance hadn't seemed to shock the young woman who had run away from his home. He had had a deep intuition since he had met her gaze, which was so different, hypnotic, and heavy with reproach. Even though she had become this sharp and emancipated woman, something seemed to hold her back, as if she was dependent on someone or something. Faïz had restrained himself so as not to kiss her neck when she turned her face. Her delicious perfume had then gone to his head. All his dates over the last five years had failed to give him the rest he wanted, to stop thinking about Zoe. At that moment, he closed his eyes and took a long breath of fresh air. The look she had given him still haunted him. The young man had the impression that, for a moment, she had seen all the chaotic emotions lurking inside him. His weaknesses, his despair. One second had been enough for him to bare his soul, and God knew he would have given everything to have a less ugly and purer soul.
When he put his hands in his pockets, he felt the photo he had hidden shortly before Zoe entered the apartment. He took it out to look at it again. It had been attached to the files and drowned in the middle of all of William's notes. David, Ray and the others hadn't noticed it when they looked through them. His fingers tightened on the black and white photograph. The rage gripped him in the gut as he scanned the man in the photograph. Pavel was evil personified, his abject physique was equal to his cruelty.
In the kindergarten playground in Las Flores, near Malibu, Georgia drew colorful flowers on the ground with chalk, while her classmates were busy playing hopscotch or on the slides. The little girl waited quietly for her uncle Elijah to come and pick her up. Impatient to find him, she regularly glanced at the gate, ready to leap into his arms when she saw him coming. The square was gradually emptying, and even though there were few people in the school compound, no one could see the strange, threatening shadows that watched the playground from the rooftops of the building. The bodies, formless and misty, seemed to be sitting on horses as abstract as their riders. These shadows were floating in the air, inches away from the tiles, below them.
"I'm enjoying these sunsets even more since I know they're the last ones."
The deep, cavernous voice came from a slightly more secluded corner, away from the dim light. The shadows became more agitated and distorted, sensitive to the intonation of the voice of the man behind them.
"From here she looks like all the others," continued the terrifying man without bothering to go to the edge of the roof, "Does she dream of fairies and princesses like the little girls her age? Or..."
The man suddenly stopped talking, surprised by a detail that seemed to elude him. He then decided to come out of the darkness and, with a heavy and sure step, walked slowly to join the ghosts in front of him. The shadows, always silent, began to stretch and to move nervously, as if connected to the energy of this leader who was wearing only military mesh pants. Tattoos were drawn on every inch of his skin, but also on the whole part of his face that represented a skeleton up to the top of his skull. The huge black circles around his eyes accentuated his demonic gaze, whose eyeballs were also filled with ink, completely covering his sclerotic. The bones of his jaw, drawn in perspective, seemed almost real. Implants, located under his skin, were protruding above his eyebrow arches. Everything was done to see a corpse instead of a human being and for good reason! There was no blacker soul on this earth. The man concentrated on the whisperings he heard at that moment in his head. He stopped breathing and began to stare at Georgia scrupulously. It was the movement of her lips that caught his full attention.
"Who is she talking to?" asked the man with the crooked eye.
He took his eyes out of the girl's mouth and brought them to the shadows around him.
"Stay close to her, until you haunt her pretty dreams!" Pavel ordered with a malicious expression all over his face, "Her mother is supposedly gifted with extraordinary abilities."
The shadows seemed to scream silently. These riders of darkness whirled for a few moments before suddenly evaporating into the air.
The man raised his menacing eyes to the sky, "A mortal with a soul as mutilated and tortured as hers is bound to be diminished. The emerald will soon be a mere rock, emptied of all its light. Nothing can save mankind."
4
The waiter handed me my Paloma and I left immediately to join the girls, on the edge of the terrace of the Hih Rooftop Lounge. Night had fallen on the city and Venice Beach was just beginning to come alive.
"Let's toast to the reunion!" Asarys teased me as she raised her cocktail above our heads.
"I'll let you celebrate this event without me," I said in a dull voice.
Lexy was content to sip her drink silently with a smile on her face.
"Are he and Ray still cold?" I asked, curious.
"He refuses to talk about himself, the subject remains thorny. I don't know what happened between them on Eros, but this mission cost them their fraternal friendship."
"Faïz is leaving next weekend," I confided, looking at the beach in the distance.
"For someone claiming to hate him, you don't seem too keen on the news," Lexy told me.
Asarys nodded in support of her friend's words. I twisted my mouth sideways and sighed before adding, "I was horrible to him earlier. I regret my words. That's what I'm working on tonight. If you had seen the look on his face when I told him that... that he was the one who should have died..."
Horrified by my words, they cut me off with loud exclamations of protest.
"Do you realize the violence of your words, Zoe?" exclaimed Lexy, who couldn't believe it.
"No one condones what he did to you, there's no excuse, but you've gone too far," Asarys said.
"I know!" I cut them off abruptly, raising my hand to the sky to silence them. "Why do you think I'd feel so bad if I didn't? Tell me what I should do."
My two acolytes immediately softened when they saw all the distress in my eyes. They exchanged complicit glances, then Asarys put a comforting hand on my shoulder:
"You need to apologize to him."
I looked down at my glass, still full, and nodded my head, "I'll stop by tomorrow and apologize to him. I don't want him to go back to New York with those last words of mine."
; "It's the best thing to do," Lexy was trying to lighten the mood again, "Actually, nice new necklace! Where do you buy pearls and a stone of this color here?"
Unsettled, I put one hand around my neck and pretended to receive a message on my phone as a diversion. "Georgia's already in bed!" I said, pretending to read a message.
"Elijah's really great with her. They are so fused together," said Asarys in an amused voice.
"I confess," Lexy shook her head, "Even though he's a total nutcase, Eli is endearing."
"He's not crazy!" I defended him. "He's special, it's true, but... he's just a dreamer."
"Yes, well... not all dreamers walk around with an imaginary friend under their arm," Asarys replied.
"That's right!" Lexy rose her index finger, "He's crazy, but he's cool. Eli is part of the family and we love him just the way he is."
Suddenly, Asarys cleared her throat, a smile splitting her face.
"Well, I know we weren't supposed to meet here tonight and I had planned another time to tell you this news, but I'm taking this opportunity..."
"Spit it out!" exclaimed Lexy, who couldn't wait.
"You're looking at the new head of the U.S. International Bank."
"No, no, no!" I cried, jumping with joy, "You're the one who got the promotion!"
Lexy threw herself at our friend who almost spilled her drink, "YOU'RE THE BEST! The next round is on me."
Asarys immediately pulled herself together and ran her hand through her hair to comb it and then added, annoyed, "I strongly suspect Lily supported my candidacy. The big boss is an acquaintance of the Mattew family."
I shrugged my shoulders and swept her words aside, "If you weren't competent for this position, which requires immense responsibility, no one would have given you the job. Your work has paid off, that's all! Now, let's toast to this wonderful news."
We raised our glasses in the air and continued the evening with laughter, putting aside for a moment the worries of the day.
It was difficult, but somehow I managed to carry Lexy to the middle of the living room.
"Damn it! You're not making this easy for me," I grunted as I laid her on the couch.
I walked to the kitchen to fill a glass for her, hoping that a sip of fresh water would do her good. When I came back to her, she was staggering towards my room.
"What are you doing?" I whispered as I caught up with her.
She turned around in the doorway and blocked my way with her arm.
"I'm... I'm... going to... ed," she said, her voice pasty, her eyes haggard.
"Your room's upstairs, you know. Come on, go!"
Lexy wiggled her finger to dispute my claim, "Not in this dungeon! This room is TOO ugly. Anyway, you don't even use it, your bed."
My friend raised her arms in the air to stretch and yawned as if dislocating her jaw, "You're not using it. You'd rather sleep on the damn couch like a depressive."
I opened my mouth, shocked by her words, but before I could react, she had slammed the door in my face. I grabbed my hair with both hands and pulled at the root, in a fit of rage. Lexy had a knack at getting me mad by being herself.
"I told you, she's completely insane."
Elijah's voice startled me, and I turned around immediately. He served himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, sitting around the counter. Strangely, I hadn't heard him arrive in the living room.
"Aren't you sleeping?" I asked intrigued as I glanced at the clock. "We are in the middle of the night."
"No, it's too quiet in here. The silence anguishes me," he replied, looking gravely.
After I joined him, I put my head on his shoulder.
"Thank you for always being here for me," I whispered, exhausted. "My day was... emotional."
I moved away from my friend and sat down in front of him and grabbed the cup he had served me.
"How did it go with Georgia?"
Elijah's face began to glow. Just hearing my daughter's name was enough to give him back everything.
"We learned a new song and danced rock'n'roll."
As he told me about his evening, I watched every line on his face. I soaked up his smile and tried to get through his hazelnut eyes. This man was good. His presence alone, his touch alone, was enough to heal my heart. He had been very present when I learned about my pregnancy only a few months after Faïz's departure. When Georgia was born, Elijah had come to see me and William every day. He was the one I wrote my first article about when I joined the team of the Los Angeles Times. The little story I did about him at that time made him a small celebrity in the neighborhood. Something, of course, that he didn't like very much.
"And your day? How was it?"
His question threw me off balance. It took me a few seconds to return to the present moment, "What do you mean?"
"Your meeting with the bad guy?"
A deep sigh escaped from me. I averted my eyes on my cup, which lay in front of me, "We haven't strayed from the main subject," I lied, "We both changed and took different roads."
My friend emitted a little growl. His tawny eyes completely disapproved of my visit to his home. Of all the people I knew, Elijah was certainly the one who hated Faïz the most, without even knowing him.
"I got William's investigation report back," I said, "that's all that matters."
I got up to get the file with all the notes from my bag and returned to my place. Elijah looked up to the ceiling, "You're going to end up scaring the hell out of me with your stories!"
"Perhaps you'll end up believing them?" I declared with half a smile, my nose already dipped in the report.
According to what was mentioned in the file, William had undertaken to start an investigation following disturbing disappearances of people at the bottom of the social ladder. A list of names had been drawn up on about ten sheets. I focused on the mention “the disappearances” written and underlined in red felt pen, at the end of the list.
"Pavel's name comes up consistently in the report. All these people have had a connection with him at some point in their lives," I whispered to myself as I continued reading.
"Let me guess," Elijah intervened.
I suddenly raised my head, shocked to see that my friend was still there. He was looking attentively at the notes in front of him:
"You're thinking serial killer?"
"The bodies of all these people were never found," I replied, "This is a possibility, but according to William, it wasn't a privileged one."
Suddenly Elijah picked up a sheet of paper on which sketches had been drawn. They depicted a deformed horse and an emanation, or rather, abstractly outlined silhouettes. My friend pouted.
"I've seen this before," he said in a low voice, looking stern.
"Do you know what this is?"
"These things roam the streets at night. Until today, I thought that my mind was playing tricks on me because these shadows are so abominable. I call them riders of darkness because you'd swear they came straight from hell. They sneak in, silent, looking for a prey and when they find it, a mute discussion begins between them and the victim."
Elijah flinched. He paused and then continued, taking care to turn the drawing over so that he wouldn't see it again, "It's as if these shadows intrude the person's mind and take possession of their whole being. They always win."
"On full moon nights? It says so right here."
He nodded, his eyes absent, but his mind was elsewhere.
"And these shadows or entities, they've never approached you?"
"No, the riders of darkness can't reach me, because unlike those who went ‘missing.’ I still have my soul and I will never sign. They know that I'm different. The shadows just look at me and pass by."
My friend, still looking intense, took another sheet:
"If this is what I think it is, an underground army is forming. All these missing people must be used as guinea pigs because in this note it's stated that various viruses with a high mutation rate, very dangerous for humans, are being
manufactured. If the occult masters release all these poor infected people into the wild, just imagine the damage this could cause."
For a fraction of a second, I imagined L.A. on fire and blood, in the grip of violent riots, led by demons with Machiavellian spirits. I tried to suppress these apocalyptic images and asked Elijah, "Does the name Pavel mean anything to you?"
He frowned and looked into my eyes "No. Maybe if I saw a portrait or a photo of this man..."
I quickly flipped through the file, but found nothing else on him, just his name on the paper. Elijah's yawn reminded me of how late it was.
"You should go to bed, you must be exhausted," I told him. "Thank you for your help."
"Do you want me to take my princess to school tomorrow?" he asked as he walked to the stairs.
"I'll be fine, don't worry. Just rest. Eli? Just one more thing..."
My friend turned around.
"I'd rather you stay here, at least until the danger is gone. Then I'll let you do whatever you want."
"But Zoe, I... I can't... that's not my life!" Elijah took offense as he spread his arms. "Besides, Condor is very intrusive, you're asking too much from me."
He scratched the top of his head, annoyed.
"Think about Georgia. You've looked after her since she was born and she still needs you so badly. Just agree to stay for her."
He raised his threatening finger at me.
"You're using my weak spot, Zoe. It's just not right. You... you... damn it! Ok, I'll stay here."
Elijah, defeated, raised his arms to the ceiling cursing me in his head, but I didn't care. The protégé of these shadows and Pavel was my main concern at that moment.
"What a mess!" my friend grumbled as he climbed the stairs, "You hear that, Condor? And the worst part is, we're going to have to live with the other lunatic Lexy. What a nightmare! No, don't tell me to calm down..."
As I could hear him go to his room grumbling, I immediately went back to William's notes. I found the passages about Nostradamus and was amazed at the precision with which this man, having lived many centuries ago, recounted the important events of a time he had never known. Indeed, he had announced the death of Henry II, but also the birth of Napoleon. This prophet had written about World War Two and the nuclear bomb in Hiroshima. He also described the assassination of John Kennedy in Dallas. Eighty percent of his predictions came true. The other twenty percent was yet to come. This astrologer predicted a major conflict between good and evil, a Third World War would bring many casualties and considerable damage. I lingered on the sentence that William had highlighted: Peace is born from the ashes of destruction, but few will appreciate it. Another passage assured that the ice caps would melt to release one of the worst viruses. Finally, Nostradamus mentioned the arrival of a third Antichrist, even more hideous than the two previous ones, and that he would be able to breathe fire. It had to be the Maestro!
DARK FAÏZ Book 3: Dawn never keeps its promises Page 4