The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,21
and he wouldn't allow one more moment to slip by while Lucien D'Angel basked in the lights of fame.
“The time has finally arrived, dearest brother,”� Julian sneered and fell back on the bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Guide me, my dearest angel, away from the darkness governing my life�
Eva was frightened.
Grudgingly, she admitted to suffering from an uncomfortable sense of apprehension and anticipation. The latter coiled deep inside of her stomach and made her nauseous. The queasiness accelerated as she approached the lobby doors of the ultra modern apartment complex. She wasn't able to pinpoint the precise reason behind her misgivings, though she did arrive at a conclusion.
Either the foolishness of her actions, or the individual residing in this stylish abode, set her on edge.
Eva accepted one indisputable fact. Two days earlier, she had made a fool of herself, believing she asked the one question on everyone's tongue. However, she was wrong. She had demonstrated an absolute lack of the professionalism, and jeopardized her good name…all because of one man!
Her conscience was suffering a slow and certain death. Over the past twenty-four hours, guilt ate away at her. Worse, there was the ever-present tone of his censorious voice echoing in her mind.
Why, Miss Keyes, what a unprofessionalquestion.�
It had been during those long-suffering hours before dawn, while tossing and turning, that she had an epiphany. Flying from her bed, she flicked on the lights in her apartment, frantically searching her notes. Somewhere in the crammed files, there was an obscure address.
Eva hadn’t felt the slightest twinge as she planned her next move, committed to do the one thing she had never done in her lifetime.
She would make a personal appearance at Luke Angeles' doorstep and apologize. It was the least she could do, and hoped the attempt would be accepted.
In any case, her conscience demanded mind-numbing and dreamless sleep.
Her decision etched in her mind, she seized the opportunity to visit the mystifying man. She provided the attentive cab driver with the scribbled address, shut the car door behind her, and leaned back in the seat. Her nose wrinkled at the vehicle’s unappealing odor, but she forced her busy mind to relax. Her tension seeped away as the vehicle picked up speed, and she gave the cabbie credit as he maneuvered through New York City's evening traffic.
She peered out of the cab window, relishing the approach of fall. Central Park was gorgeous this time of year, the season evident in the color of the leaves, the towering trees transformed into a multicolored quilt of reds, browns, and gold.
Fall was, indisputably, in full swing.
Eva snuggled deeper into her jacket, the evening chill more pronounced. As the streets sped by, she recognized sites she hadn’t seen in years.
Wonders wouldn't fail to cease, she thought, viewing the area. The host of Those Among Us just happened to have an apartment in her old neighborhood!
Old wasn’t the correct word, and an unexpected twinge of homesickness plucked at her heartstrings. There was still a scattering of the older residences, viewable on the fringes of the modern structures. Sleeker and far newer apartments replaced a majority of the pre-Depression Era row houses, which had filled these streets for decades.
The cab came to a slow halt before one of the blindingly modern buildings. She peered out of the window, absorbing the full glory of the four-story facade. The building was far too contemporary, she thought, and her lips tightened as she paid the driver.
She shivered, and then grimaced. Suffering from a bone freezing iciness for the past few days, she wondered if she were catching cold. Eva pulled her coat tighter about her and winced. She had scarcely stepped foot on the conspicuously vacant sidewalk when she became aware of the incessant hum growing in her inner ear. Her frozen fingertips longed to cover the sides of her head, wishing she could drown out the sounds, but knew the action would be futile.
She couldn’t escape the murmurings, for they filled her mind every waking hour of the day.
Eva rubbed the back of her neck with cold hands, frustrated as the low-pitched buzzing sound evolved into more definable series of words. The figments of phrases caused her to pause, brooding. Many of the glitches she recognized were teasing, laughing, before evolving into half-hearted dictates.
Chilled to the bone, she focused on the shining glass double doors of the apartment building. Her hands dropped to her sides as she passed a judicious eye over the building's impressive facade.
The unexplainable sense of déjà vu and the strange