The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,12
brow returned to the usual furrow, and she remained deep in thought, the notes she gathered for the evening remaining clutched in one hand.
Mentally, she attempted to count to one hundred as she methodically did before every interview. The action, intended to have a calming effect, failed. She grew more frustrated and wanted to growl.
Calm nerves, calm nerve, calm nerves.
She repeated the soothing litany, as she often did before meeting the evening's guest. The normalcy of the familiar chant didn't have the desired effect and her frown deepened. She was at a loss about what would have her tense about the ambiguous Luke Angeles.
After spending weeks studying the popular syndicated television show, Those Among Us, Eva understood how the program succeeded in attracting millions of viewers. Intent on her research, she remained religiously tuned into the Saturday show and couldn't find fault with the reality series. Addicted to the nail-biting and spine-tingling revelations of supposedly haunted residences, she waited anxiously for each unveiling of whispered voices the human ear hadn’t detected.
Forever the investigative reporter, she prepared her questions for the upcoming interview. She studied the diverse regional reports from the far-flung areas the North American Department of Ghostly Experience League, a.k.a NADGEL, had traveled. There had been grandiose estates in the English and American countryside, a crumbling castle in fog-shrouded Romania, Gothic churches, and a few homes. The various sites were multi-regional and lacking in any significant similarities that bound them…all except for one small item.
Each location contained abnormally high paranormal activity.
Those Among Us had a crew of the most dedicated individuals. The eldest of the investigating squad, Brice Linten, left his teaching profession at Yale to become one of Luke's elite members. Ethan Benecorte and Gilbert Copeland, young men from upstate New York, were experienced in the technical matters involving EMF and digital photography. Nikolai, the Russian with the nearly indecipherable accent, was a veritable encyclopedia of spiritual lore. Lastly, there was the mystical Deborah, an elderly woman who imagined she read the auras surrounding the living. The staff and crew were easy to research, each having their own popular websites and an enthusiastic fan base. The television program’s popularity added to their celebrity image tenfold, and Eva assumed they reveled in their fame.
That is, all except for Luke Angeles.
There wasn’t a social networking site, nor did he interject commentary into his team’s popular website. As the leader of the celebrated paranormal program, she’d been unable to find any information beyond the basics. Angeles avoided the trappings of popularity with an all out dedication bordering on the maniacal.
Except for the television show, he didn’t appear to exist.
Even his publisher was mute about his actual identity. Angeles had written two popular books that Eva had read, cover to cover. Those Among Us and To Remain Behind had been stellar bestsellers, sweeping the bestseller charts within weeks of publication. Despite the distinction, he chose not to appear at book signings or interviews.
“He doesn't like to be touched, or have his fame broadcasted to the public. What is he, a damn prima donna?” She scoffed sarcastically, more to herself than to the hovering set crew.
After hours of sitting slack-jawed before her big screen, a pillow clutched to her chest, Eva realized people avoided Luke Angeles. During his hour-long television show, she noticed his colleagues skirted around him. His associates appeared on familiar terms with their mentor, but there seemed to be an unspoken and well-respected distance maintained. After careful consideration, it appeared people preferred not to invade his personal space.
He doesn’t like to be touched.
It had to be him, unable to deny the uneasy feeling ruthlessly tormenting her for the past few hours. The thought put her at her worst, but Eva couldn’t understand why. It seemed the discomfort was more deeply rooted than previously imagined and she paused in her mental meanderings to give him a long moment's consideration.
Angeles wasn't a simple man, for there were too many questions about his past that remained unanswered. If it were any other person, she would've assumed he was anally retentive, too self-absorbed with fame and fortune.
Instead, there appeared more to him than met the eye, and she wasn’t certain what. It may have been because he exuded the oddest sense of underlying unease, a feeling shared by many.
Eva maneuvered to her seat on the brightly lit set. Issuing a heartfelt groan of relief, she sank into the familiar chair, and tossed her notes to the side table. She pressed her thumb and forefinger