The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,26

appeared the faintest blush of a distant ray of light. The shiny luminance shivered for a moment, wavering like a ripple in a pool of still water. Eva was drawn toward the image, pulled by unseen hands as the glow gave way to a magnificent and blinding shade of white light.

The beat of her heart increased to a deafening crescendo as she stepped closer. Captured by her curiosity, her mind registered the shine couldn't have been issued from the remnants of the fading autumn sunset.

His attention was concentrated on the wavering figure of the young man who stood at Eva’s side…

A man who wasn’t in the room.

CHAPTER SIX

Trust in the belief that there is more to this world than what your eyes can see�

“I don’t know what your game is, or how you managed this, but you're pissing me off!” Eva snapped and turned away, her irritation obvious.

“My intention is not to piss you off, as you so eloquently put it.” Lucien remained where he stood, his arms folded across his chest. Despite his calmness, his eyes narrowed to the point she couldn't detect the color

“Where did you stash them?” She stalked toward him, searching the ceiling for recessed lighting. “I know you used a camera to make me see what I did!”

“There aren't any cameras.”�

She harrumphed rudely, her disbelief obvious. Her behavior wasn’t well mannered, but she was past caring. Eva guessed her apology and manners flew out the window the moment the mirror began to glow.

“The ratings for your show are off the roof,” her low tone held unmistakable sarcasm. “I don't think it's necessary to pull some elaborate stunt to get my attention.”

“Let me to assure you, dear lady, I'm not one who would resort to common tomfoolery.”

God, he was irritating!

“I don’t know how…”��

“It isn’t in my power to reveal what’s already there,” he interrupted smoothly.

“It has to be! Either you used some craftily thrown switch, or you have equipment operating by voice command. I'm certain you got one of your guys to rig the gear!”�She shouted, trying not to teeter on her heels before spinning away.

Eva went to the mirror and plucked at the gilt frame. Cursing beneath her breath, she pushed the object, unable to budge it. The blasted thing was too weighty, and she understood why it remained propped against the wall!

“Okay, I figured this out,” she grumbled and stepped away, noticing the reflected male images hadn’t moved. Not that the one would, she rationalized, since it lacked the lower limbs needed for the action. “I imagine you’ve a damn camera in the mirror! You used some sort of fun house style trick, didn't you?”�

“You think I use tricks?” He chuckled wryly, and she swore there was a twinkle in his eyes. Her hackles rose as he chided her derisively. “I wish life were truly as simple as the images reflected in amusement park mirrors.”�

“Now, you listen to me, Angeles,”� Eva began, but quieted when he raised a hand. His expression was somber and brooding, and she felt she wasn't going to like anything he said.

“I trust it would be wise for you to heed my words, Evangeline Keegan.” Authority seeped from his soft tones, causing her to remain silent. “It’s solely by your own hidden powers you can see that particular spirit.”

He provided the information as if he were reciting a well-known passage from a timeworn novel, for his voice-lacked inflection. She flinched and realized he pronounced her name as easily as if he’d been aware of her identity for a while. The pseudonym of Eva Keyes she had employed for years, keeping her true name hidden from public.

Clearly, Lucien whatever-his-last-name-was had his sources.

“Spirit?” Eva nearly spat the word at him, her tone radiating with the chill, anger, and a bit of fear. Despite the fact that she found Luke Angeles' show vastly entertaining, it was nothing but a television program. Though she admitted grudgingly she’d become an enormous fan, Those Among Us was nothing more than amusing. The show didn't make her go around wondering if ghosts resided among the living.

“You're still skeptical?”�

“Look, I don't believe in the paranormal, or a supernatural plane!” Eva stressed the word don't as firmly as possibly. “Nor do I find it amusing that you somehow managed to dig up information on my personal life.”�

The man, who never smiled on any of his programs, smirked at her. The action, delivered with calculating calmness, rubbed her wrong. “I know more about you than you would ever care to