Page 112 of The Light Within

Darcy let out a laugh so exaggerated and theatrical, it echoed through the room like a villain in a pantomime. “Oh, you do make me laugh!”

“There he is.” Elliot jerked his head towards a dark figure leaning against the library’s portico. “There’s Malik.”

Oui, there he was, the mysterious American man who’d apparently had the edge on them for months.

Malik peeled himself away from the column, walking a few paces to greet them. It was a moonless midnight, the street lit only by a pair of lumenmote columns either side of the building. Julien studied the man in the dim light. He hated to admit it, but the guy didn’t look the slightest bit familiar.

The four of them stood opposite Malik, a silent impasse.

“Hold on.” Cinn screwed up his face, looking between Malik and Elliot, who was hanging back in an odd, hesitant manner. “Aren’t you the one from New Year’s? The one Elliot chucked up all over?”

Elliot groaned, and Malik grinned at him, a sudden flash of white teeth. “He owes me new shoes.”

Julien stared at him again.Non, his face definitely didn’t ring any bells from that night. But then, by the time Elliot had reached peak drunkenness, Julien was solely focussed on physically restraining Cinn, who kept trying to request songs from the DJ that nobody wanted to hear. Genuinely, nobody.

“What have you been playing at, mate, messing with us like this?” Cinn demanded. “Was that you in Paris yesterday?”

Malik tilted his head to one side. “Yesterday? No, I can’t say that it was. I was too busy with Elliot here. Look, if you just follow me, all will become clear.”

“Follow you where, into the library?” Julien eyed the dark building dubiously. Maybe he was still bitter that Darcy had deciphered the ridiculous clue.

“No.” Malik barked a laugh. “Auri’s library would be way too obvious. This was just the meeting spot to see if you’d actually show up.”

Malik seemed less of a dangerous assassin about to knife them, and more of an annoying prick, so Julien humoured him.

“Where are we going, then? We don’t have all night, and you’ve already wasted our time dragging us out here,” Julien said coolly.

“It’s a bit of a drive, I’m afraid,” Malik said, then strolled on past them without looking back.

Julien already wanted to punch this guy. He met Elliot’s gaze, silently asking him, ‘Who is this clown?’but Elliot only shrugged, not giving Julien a second glance before jogging to catch up with Malik.

Dropping his voice low, Julien fell into step with Darcy. “I don’t trust Elliot’s judgement on this. This guy has got him bewitched somehow. He barely knows him.”

All he received in reply was Darcy’s indecipherable look, so Julien shut up and dutifully followed Malik down the path, heading back towards the car park.

When Julien unlocked the rental car, Malik stopped short. “What happened to your nice car? I thought we were riding in that.”

Malik sounded so genuinely disappointed, Julien had to laugh.

“You definitely picked the wrong time to stop stalking us. If we’d had some backup yesterday, maybe Maz would have survived.”

Malik directed them out of Auri, through the countryside and the town centre, constantly looking behind them to see if they were being followed. Then, they took a convoluted route around the northern residential area.

Cinn tapped on the window. “We’re almost back at my house!”

“Yeah. That’s not a coincidence.”

Quiet for a moment, Cinn then asked, “Have you watched me through my window?” to which Malik violently shook his head in a very unconvincing way.

They drove on. Just when Julien thought they were genuinely heading to Cinn’s house of all places, Malik instructed Julien to pull the Clio up to the kerb outside a small grocery shop, complete with grimy windows, faded posters and peeling paint.

“This is us.”

Julien turned off the engine, then stared at Malik. What on earth was going on here? He half expected some sort of camera crew to jump out and announce they were all on a prank show.

“Thiscorner shop?” Cinn gave a disbelieving huff. “I come here every other day for cigarettes!”

“And that awful store-brand lemon shower gel you love so much,” Malik said, wrinkling his nose. “Can’t forget that.”

---