Chapter 4 Chapitre 4

The voices are rising behind the bait door, muffled whispers, but imbued with raw tension.

- They move, said a serious voice that I recognize immediately. Maxim.

My heart misses a beat.

- Do they know she's here?

The other voice, more hoarse, seems worried.

I remember my breath. They talk about me.

My palm is moist against the wood of the door. The air seems thicker, as if the piece itself tried to absorb the words that escape on the other side.

- Not yet, but this is only a matter of time, Maxime answers. They will not let down.

Who, they?

A thrill travels my spine. There is something in his voice, a gravity that does not stick to the cold and relentless man that I have known so far.

- We must act before them.

Silence stretches, oppressive.

Then a noise of steps.

I rush back, placing myself against the wall. My heart beats too fast, too strong. If it opens the door now ...

Nothing.

The conversation resumes.

- Are you sure she saw nothing?

I freeze.

- She is more malignant than you think, takes up the other man.

A joy -free laughter.

- I know exactly how much she is.

I swallow.

- So make sure it is no longer.

My blood is ice.

A rejected chair noise.

- This is not an option.

His voice is sharp. Final.

- If she discovers the truth, she will be a danger.

- Or an ally.

The other man growls, visibly frustrated.

- You overestimate it.

- And you, you underestimate it.

My breath is too noisy. I have to leave before ...

A cracking of parquet.

- Someone is there.

Panic crushes me.

I turn my heels and lessons before I even think.

The footsteps continue.

- Émilie!

I don't listen to. I'm getting blind in the corridor, turning suddenly at the corner. A door. I open it in a hurry and rush into it, my heart ready to explode.

The darkness engulfs me.

I remember my breath.

The steps stop just behind the door.

- Open.

No.

The handle lowers slowly.

My whole body is shaking, unable to move.

Then, in a last momentum of madness, I flatten myself against the wall and hold my breath.

The door opens.

A shadow is emerging.

My heart stops.

Then Maxime sighs.

- You have no idea what you just got started in, Émilie.

I don't answer.

I'm too busy wondering if I just made a fatal error. The shade in the doorway does not move. Maxime remains motionless, scrutinizing me as if he evaluated the situation, weighing the least of my movements. The air seems to be loading with unbearable tension. My heart drumm against my rib cage, but I refuse to give in to panic.

- Get out of there, Émilie, he orders in a low voice, too calm to be reassuring.

I don't answer. My muscles are tense, ready to flee if it tries anything.

He pushes an exasperated sigh and, in a fraction of a second, his hand closes on my wrist. The contact is hot, electric. I try to get out, but it is too strong.

- Quite played. Do you want answers? You will have them. But not spying behind the doors.

He drags me out of the room, his firm but not brutal socket. He could have crushed me with a simple pressure, and yet he holds back. This observation does not reassure me as much as it should.

- Do you want to know who is "them"? Who I really am? he asks, taking me a look at an angle.

I swallow with difficulty. Yes, I want to know. But I'm not sure I'm ready to hear the truth.

He trains me through the corridor, crossing a door that leads to a huge living room with dark wood walls. A fire crackles in the hearth, projecting dancing shadows on the walls.

A silhouette awaits him.

The man is tall, slender, draped in a black coat that seems to absorb the light. His face is partially hidden by the darkness, but I immediately perceive the aura that he gives off. A contained force, an overwhelming presence.

I don't know him, but my instincts howls me that he is not ordinary.

Maxime finally releases my wrist and advances towards him, his body stretched like a predator on the alert.

- You are late, loose Maxime, his voice more sharp than a blade.

The man sketches an enigmatic smile.

- I have never been the punctual type.

A thrill travels to me.

- Who is it ? I whispered, more for myself than to get an answer.

The look of the unknown slides on me, scrutinizing with a calculated interest.

- The famous Emilie, he said slowly.

I tense myself.

- Did you tell her about me? I ask Maxime, a bitter taste in my mouth.

- He knows a lot, replies Maxime without diverting the eyes from his interlocutor. Too much, maybe.

- And you, you hide a lot, retorts the man by crossing your arms.

A tense silence sets in.

I observe them, trying to understand the nature of their relationship. Allies? Rivals? There is a latent animosity, but also a strange familiarity.

- Why are you here? Finally asks Maxime, breaking the silence.

The man sketches a smile, and this time, I perceive a glow in his gaze. Something too intense. Too inhuman.

- To remind you that time is running out.

Maxime does not cille, but his jaw contracts imperceptibly.

- I manage the situation.

The man sneers gently.

- Really ? So why is this woman still here?

My stomach tightens.

- Because it is under my protection, Maxime replies in an icy tone.

- Oh... under your protection? Let me laugh. Since when do you care about anyone, Maxime?

I remember my breath.

The stranger looks slightly his head, his gaze piercing me.

- You shouldn't be here, Émilie.

- And why that? I replied, my voice firmer than I would have thought.

An amused smile stretches her lips.

- Because you are not part of this world.

He lets these words hover, heavy with meaning, before adding:

- Not yet.

A thrill travels to me.

I turn to Maxime, looking for answers. He just set man, his indecipherable expression.

- You shouldn't be there either, whispers Maxime, his voice darker than ever.

The other laughs.

- Always so charming, Maxime. But you know as well as me that it is not you who fix the rules.

His gaze returns to me, more insisting this time.

- Beware, Émilie. When it is time to choose your camp ... make sure to make the right choice.

A veiled threat.

Or a warning.

I'm not sure.

But one thing is certain: something immense is about around me. And I'm not sure I'm the prisoner in this story. The night is my ally.

I remember my breath, each muscle tense while I silently slip into the weakly lit corridor. This time, no error. No precipitation. I studied the premises, memorized the comings and goings of Maxime and his men. If I want to escape, it's now or never.

The beats of my heart resonate in my ears. My steps are light, calculated. I walk along the wall to the rear door, the one I spotted earlier in the day. It overlooks the outside, on a potential outcome.

I deeply inspire and hold out my hand towards the handle.

Cold under my fingers.

I turn it slowly.

A noise, barely noticeable. A thrill travels to me.

I freeze, my ear stretched.

Nothing.

I expire slowly and push the door.

The night air strikes me hard, filled with humidity and something else ... a smell, a forest scent that I cannot describe. My heart leaps in my chest. I have never been so close to freedom.

I sneak out, holding the irrepressible desire to run.

Not yet.

I walk along the facade, my bare feet touching the cold grass. Each shadow could hide a danger. I must be careful. I spot the edge of the trees, a few tens of meters. Once covered, I can speed up.

A few more steps.

Then I run.

My breath runs into freezing air, my heart drumm, but I don't slow down. Freedom is there, right in front of me.

- Émilie.

His voice split at night like a blade.

I stop net.

No. Impossible.

I turn my head, looking for the origin of the sound. Nothing. Just darkness.

Then a movement. A shadow arises between me and the forest.

Maxim.

He is there, straight, impassive, as if he was waiting for me.

- Did you really think I wouldn't see you leaving? He asks, his low voice, vibrant with an emotion that I cannot decipher.

I step back a step.

- Let me go.

He does not respond immediately. He looks at me, his piercing look looking for something in me. Then he sighs.

- You don't understand. It's not you that I remember... They're them that I'm staying from a distance.

My blood is ice.

- Them ?

He sketches a bitter smile.

- Now is not the time.

I clench my fists.

- It will never be the time, isn't it?

He does not move.

I try one last time. I throw myself to the side, ready to run again, but it is faster. Much faster.

In an instant, he is in front of me.

I don't have time to react. His arms are soaring me and I struggle, hitting his chest, trying to free myself.

- Stop, he whispers.

- No ! I shouted, still striking it.

- Émilie.

This time, it's no longer an order. It is no longer a threat.

It's a prayer.

I stop.

His breathing is jerky.

I raise my head.

His eyes are no longer the same.

It is no longer the impassive man who holds me. He's someone else. Someone ... broken.

- Why are you doing this? I ask, my voice trembling.

He doesn't answer right away. His hands tense slightly on my arms, then he releases them.

- Because if you leave ... they will find you.

I'm shivering.

- Who ?

He closes his eyes for a moment.

Then he whispers:

- Mine.

My breath cuts.

- Yours?

His gaze is anchored in mine.

- I'm not what you think, Émilie.

I can't breathe.

Because deep down, I know.

I always knew it.