The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,66

girls need to learn when it’s inappropriate to scream.”

The voice was low, deep, and gravelly. Eva gulped, too frightened to move. Her heart rose to her throat as the ominous tones whispered over her flushed flesh, accompanied by foul-smelling breath. Her attacker buried his face in the cascade of her dark hair, the fetid odor of his body surrounding her.

He was the culprit behind the stench filling her apartment. He had been inside the entire time, probably going through her stuff, and waiting for her return.

The thought sickened her.

“You really shouldn't make a sound, pretty one." The male voice continued roughly, his breath brushing over her cold cheek. “Screaming little girls get their lovely little necks broken.”

Eva's breath skittered unevenly, and his arms tightened. The fear was debilitating, and she felt weak. Her stomach soured as she made a futile attempt to slip from his hold. A sob escaped her as he squeezed, his sinister laugh echoing into her ear.

“Do you want to screech, little girl?”

Eva didn't know how to respond. She could barely breathe and her heart rate increased to a deafening crescendo.

“Nod your head, precious, if you're going to be a good girl.” He whispered, the tip of his tongue flickering over the shell of her exposed earlobe.

Her eyes watered as she stifled a shudder, but she complied. The hand moved with deliberate slowness from her mouth. She made the foolish attempt to inhale, choking as she met with the putrid flow of air. She gagged and retched, her frantic eyes seeking a form of escape from her attacker.

He pressed his face close, and Eva flinched as he rubbed his cheek against her hair, the gesture almost loving. She screwed her eyes shut and cowered, unable to escape, and hearing the deep breaths he inhaled while sniffing her flesh. The cold tip of his nose ran across her neck, and she shrank deeper into herself, cringing and holding her breath.

“What do you want?” The words trembled with fear. She expected anything but the sound falling from him when his grizzled face scraped her nape.

He giggled.

“I want you, little girl.”

Eva couldn't control her flinch. He intended to rape her, this dirty, stinking pile of wretched humanity. The litany of oh, God, oh, God, oh, God flitted through her terrorized brain.

“Why me?” The question escaped her in a pitiful moan.

“Oh, darling,” her assailant chuckled, the sound nearly childish in tone. “You don't understand, do you?”

The litany spiraling in her brain came to a screeching halt.

“I don't want your flesh, though you would be delicious.” A single hand shifted from her waist. The gloved appendage moved upwards and across the firmness of her breasts, concealed beneath the heavy weight of her jacket.

Revulsion coiled in her stomach as the offending hand glided over her. She flinched, recoiling as the fingertips moved to the pert tips of her bosom before descending to the apex of her thighs. She couldn't call back her strangled cry or the tear sliding down her pale cheek as he intimately clutched her.

“What do you want?” The words stuck in her throat. Her assailant pressed a kiss to the curve of her jaw, his lips dry against her skin while he kneaded her tender flesh.

“I want what you can bring me,” he murmured, his words a silky whisper.

“What?" She questioned roughly, stilling her gagging reflex. "What can I bring you?”

“I want to play a little game.” He whispered with childlike buoyancy.

“A game?”

“Oh, yes, little girl.” He continued. “Can you guess what I need?”

“Look,” Eva attempted to reason, another tear seeping free and trailing down her cheek. “I can't give you fame, if that's what you want. I'm not a celebrity.”

“Ah.” He breathed the single word with a wealth of meaning, the stench rising from his mouth causing her to gasp. “I, least of all, don’t require fame.”

He didn't want to violate her and he didn't want fame.

What did he want?

Again, his hand moved over her. The action was executed with deliberate slowness, as if he was savoring every inch. She stifled another gut-wrenching gag as he caressed her cringing flesh.

“I want what only you can offer, Eva Keyes.” his low-pitched giggle filled her ears and he buried his face into the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. His gnarled fingers slipped under the heavy wool of her jacket, seeking the roundness of her breast.

A whimper tore from her as his hand squeezed at the tender flesh.

“You stink of him!”

Disgust filled the accusation. Eva flinched and felt the dryness