Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (49 page)

“Coming!” I say.

When I come out, it’s Anthony who is waiting for me. I’m surprised. I was expecting Alex. When Antony sees me, his eyes widen, and he swallows hard, clearly surprised but he immediately dons his professional expression. I managed to shock a Nephilim.

“Miss Duncan, Mr. Pella sent me to bring you down, ma’am.” He extends his arm and I take it walking out of the suite. Outside the door a man with dark blond tousled hair cut short at the base but stylishly longer
elsewhere walks up in a black tux. Seeing this man surprises Anthony, and he gives a second look at him, blinking and shocked. It’s
‘I-never-knew-you-could-clean-up-so-well and look-shockingly-beautiful’
look.

“Doc?” he asks in a soft, barely audible voice. But I hear him. He narrows his eyes and gives a through once-over to this ‘doc’. Then he gathers himself.

“Miss Duncan, may I introduce you to John Henry? Mr. Henry, this is Miss Elissa Duncan,” he introduces. I extend my hand to shake, but Mr. Henry takes my hand, gallantly bows and kisses it in a very gentlemanly manner.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am,” he says, and I immediately warm up to him. He extends his arm ignoring Anthony and getting a scowl from him which he conveniently ignores.

“Did I hear correctly when Anthony called you Doc?”

“Yes, Miss Duncan. I’m a physician, but that’s more a hobby than a job.”

“How’s that? I didn’t know you could just quit being a doctor,” I say as I follow his lead to go wherever we are going for the cocktail party. He leads us towards the elevators and Anthony hits the button to call the elevator up. Once the elevator doors ding open, he shows me in, and once again Anthony presses the button for the floor we are descending to.

“
I changed careers, and got into business. And as you correctly stated, one can’t just quit being a doctor. What you learn stays with you, but I don’t see patients daily anymore.”

“How do you know Mr. Pella?”

“I’m a business associate,” he says vaguely.

“Oh?
I was under the impression that Mr. Pella didn’t have any partners.”

“I didn’t say I was a partner. I don’t wish the responsibility of a business on myself. I’d rather that it falls on Alex’s lot than mine. I am good at business negotiations, and I have that capacity in his company,” he says as we exit the elevators.

“A negotiator?” I ask. I notice that it’s another vague job description and not a title. What does he negotiate? Business? Negotiate with the other Nephilim? Why become a doctor and not practice?

“One of the many hats I wear, but that about sums
up most of what I do,” he answers.

“I see,” I reply as we make our way through the double doors into what looks like a lavishly furnished ballroom. There are men in tuxedos, and three piece suits, and women in designer cocktail dresses. The Classical music is playing in the background as a hauntingly beautiful voice of a soprano echoes around the large room. The sound of music is mixed with the constant and steady hum of people talking which in return is creating a symphony of its own. I’m surprised to find a ballroom full of exquisitely dressed businessmen from around the world
, some of whom have an otherworldly air to them. The prickly sensation I now recognize alerts me that they are
the Nephilim
. As we walk by an impeccably dressed couple, I shiver and shudder compulsively in feeling their potent otherness. Henry pats my hand reassuring me. When I look up at him, his smiling gaze greets me, comforting. The presence of this man I just met is oddly comforting; avuncular even, like Uncle Gabe even though Henry looks only to be           in his early 30s.

My next step stuns me with a feeling of running into a wall or rather the walls ran into me from all sides, enclosing and isolating me! My breathing suddenly becomes labored as the sensation of being given a pat down without my permission inside my soul, and my mind creeps on me. I stop in my tracks with this unwelcome attention, close my eyes, and instinctively search the intruders in my head. I’m surprised to realize the intrusion of this manner and even more shocked that my response is immediate and automatic. There are seven of them. Six men and one I can’t decide what he or she is. The males are mesmerized with me, drawn even. They seem to be reverential, and awed while the seventh one exudes a well-controlled, methodical search of my soul. Why? I detect the tinge of well hidden jealousy momentarily, but it’s gone the second I realize it. It’s a woman
! I don’t think she’s human, or she hasn’t been for a long time. The feeling of violation by this woman triggers something in me and I feel the doors and windows to my mind closing, and expelling the violators in such a swift mode, I can feel the shock and awe in them all. It happens all so quickly that the time spent is less than a minute.

When I open my eyes, Henry’s looking at me curiously. Yet, I pay no attention to him. After surreptitiously scanning the very large room with my gaze, I notice some men who are stealthily blending among the buyers and their guest
s but they are clearly not here to buy anything. They don’t look like security stationed at the doors but have the look of super soldiers. I don’t feel the female among the guests. These men are dressed impeccably but even the designer threads can’t hide the well-toned muscles beneath them as if they were wielding weapons all their lives or how ethereally handsome they all are. Despite their exceptional beauty and their agility, I immediately know that they aren’t Nephilim. The shifting focus of their collective attention towards me is so swift and profound; my feet falter again momentarily under the intensity of the scrutiny of their gazes. The feeling that their surveillance evokes is remarkably unnatural; I feel the unseen tendrils biting me inside my soul gently once again, caressing as if I’m a rare artifact and attempting and failing to rummage in my head both veraciously and carefully. Yet they’re unable to enter my mind this time. However, I’m surprised to find myself blending into their collective psyche. Oh, shit!

They’re like the Spartan soldiers except with more lethal abilities!
A harsh and cruel life in training offers them the absence of fear in their psyche. It is a common theme among them. I flinch feeling the lick of a flog repeatedly. But the virtual pain is not my own. It’s of these men. They have been ritualistically beaten in contest of endurance and they survived the pain of punishment. I could see in their mind that they never surrendered to anyone and each of them has had a long existence. “Return with your shield or on it” is their motto but I feel their immortality. Is their immortality earned or are they born with it? The sudden and unexpected immersion into their collective psyche shakes me to my core. Henry steadies me up. I capture the gaze of one of the males in particular who looks through me instead of looking at me. I immediately sense the penetration of his gaze, and feel that he’s searching my intent to be here. I feel stripped naked and tense, yet I find my feelings are reciprocated by all except the female. I cannot see her mind. She is capable of keeping her thoughts out of the collective psyche. Mr. Henry immediately directs his punishing gaze at this soldier in disguise and he in return cuts the intensity of his probing off. I finally notice the man’s eyes. His pupils are so wide, his eyes appear to have no irises giving them an eerie bottomless, devoid of emotion look.

“They’re the
Psyches
. I’m surprised you noticed their otherness. Not many of us can,” he says, and I look at him with a blank expression. What is a
Psyche
?

“They’re the Soul Searchers. You must be a magnet to them,” says Mr. Henry.

“Why?”

“Your soul is spotless. It unsettles them. Everyone in this room has a blemish or a thousand
markers. Some of them are purely evil. But you my dear, you are a beacon in the darkness, the only guiding star among many souls.”

“I don’t like them rummaging
through my head,” I say uneasily. “Though I think I managed to kick them out.” My response halts Henry in his tracks.

“You did what? How?” he asks shocked.

“Closed the doors to my mind,” I say shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “Maybe I should start sinning. That might divert their attention elsewhere,” I mutter absently, drawing an unexpected chuckle from Mr. Henry.

“They can’t help it; it’s their nature. That’s why they’re hired. They detect malicious intent immediately.”

“Are they soulless?” I ask fearful.

“On the contrary, they’re the personification of the human soul. They know everything about the qualities or lack thereof
which a soul possesses. Love, hate, jealousy, envy, revenge, inspiration, trust, mistrust, joy and fear… And, they’re a necessary evil, and being paid handsomely to be on guard duty for the duration of the week.”

“How much?” I blurt out without consulting my brain first.

“Not all payments are in money, Miss Duncan. But, in their case, they require two forms of payment. They too have a currency for which they part their services with. It’s costing your boss a lot, but he’s prepared to pay it,” Mr. Henry says, grimacing. His expression makes me swallow hard. I have an ominous feeling that I’m costing Alex dearly for the protection he’s providing for me. In that instant, I miss him immediately. My eyes search for him in this large room. I can’t see him, but I feel his presence; a low vibration like two opposite ends of a magnet pulling each other through barriers of bodies.

“Are these people all here to purchase aircrafts Mr. Henry?” I ask to distract myself.

“Please, you can call me John,” he says daring me to call him by his given name.

“John,” I say blushing.

“That’s better. Yes, they’re all approved buyers. Some want the existing aircrafts that are now on the ground, some are in different locations such as Iceland, South-east Asia, and most of them are in different parts of the continental U.S. Some want the flight technology that is not yet available to the private sector,” he answers my question.

“How could they ask for a technology that isn’t available to
the private sector? Who would want to purchase them? And, why from Mr. Pella?” John smiles at me warmly.

“Because, not much is impossible for Alex Pella when it comes to aircrafts, or when it comes to a lot of things for that matter. He manufactures aircrafts and trades existing aircrafts of all kinds. You will find the answers to your questions within the week,” he replies kindly, but evasively.

I’m amazed to come across people of all colors, accents and attires; clearly these men are the affluent and opulent members of their respective societies and they’re here with their lavishly dressed arm candies. John expertly guides me among the throngs of people in the spacious ballroom as Anthony shadows us close by. Both men are inhumanly handsome like the other men Alex employs. I momentarily wonder what other traits the Nephilim have. As John Henry leads me towards a clustered group of businessmen talking animatedly, I notice a few heads turn in our direction. I feel their gazes trained on me. Am I underdressed, overdressed? I feel more self-conscious with the unexpected attention than I did of the
Psyches
; all the worse because the looks are unguarded and conspicuous, making me nervous.

When we reach our destination, Alex’s head comes up sensing my presence, imprisoning me in his gaze and sifting all others off his radar as if I’m the only one in his presence. Only briefly
do his eyes spare a glance to John Henry. The glance he gives him is a surprised look mirroring Anthony’s earlier expression. John’s lips twitch up in semblance of a wry smile as if he’s privy to an inside joke. Alex’s gaze moves its intensity back onto me. For a moment I think I imagine him trying to slowly and imperceptibly exhale his breath along with an unknown tension he’s been holding. The appreciation and hunger in his gaze drinks me in, thrilling me. I try to conceal my hitching breath and drumming heart with the seductively stunning sight of him which easily outranks every male in the room. I flush with the realization of trained eyes on me, and they can clearly see the ardent yearning I have for him. I feel helpless, pulled in to his orbit with a fueled desire to be touched and loved by him despite what I must do soon in order to free him from his binds and servitude to me.

The craving in Alex’s eyes, his need to touch me is unconcealed; an evident declaration to others, telling them I’m off limits. He moves towards us with the grace and ease of a panther on a hunt. The evidence of the peaks and valley of his well-defined muscles even beneath his tuxedo take his animal magnetism to a whole new level. Each step he takes towards me is measured, seductive, and full of vigor and violent lust. But the hostile change that comes to his eyes in a split second is unnerving, chilling even. His
gaze moves past me to an entity behind me; his senses are on high alert and in the blink of an eye, the fierce passion in his eyes gives way to savage bloodlust. His face hardens; his eyes grow cold and glacial. But then his absolute control shifts into a higher gear and he reins all other emotions and slides his usual shield over his entire body spreading like a second layer of skin; the unreachable emperor once again is manifested. I read his lips saying “excuse me,” to the people in his way and continues to walk towards us in his predatory stride.

Alex comes next to me and wordlessly takes me from John, and slides me under his arm as his hand possessively holds the small of my back right above my buttocks where there is no fabric; his index finger gently caresses the bare skin sending shivers through my body. He doesn’t look at me or greet me, but his touch lets me know he’s well aware of me and my body. His steely gaze is trained on the mystery person who must be coming towards our direction. I hear him murmur, “What the hell is
he
doing here?” threateningly to John who turns around to look behind him, and immediately the color drains from his face. He shakes his head once imperceptibly. Who the hell is coming?