He called Elena's phone. It rang four times....she was a late riser, he knew this, had noted it as one of approximately ten thousand things he'd been thinking about without admitting he was thinking....and then her voice, rough with sleep, confused:
"Raphael? It's....what time is it?"
"Get dressed," he said. "Don't open your door for anyone until I get there. I'm fifteen minutes away."
A pause. Then.....and this was one of the things, one of the ten thousand things....she didn't panic. Didn't demand explanations he didn't have time to give. Just: "Okay. I'll be ready."
Two hundred years. He had been alive for two hundred years and never thought that a day like this would ever come, but now the thought of someone he care for facing a possible kidnap unsettles greatly.
He pressed the accelerator down and drove faster.
****
Eve's POV — One Hour Later
