He savored the brilliance surrounding him, knowing it was invisible to her, and he basked in her aura. Within the golden and silvery rays was the unspoken promise of all she offered.
He closed his eyes with a sigh, and wished for the impossible, knowing she interpreted the action as something else.
“Your father wasn't frightened by your power.” �
…too much power�
“He despised me.” Lucien felt dazed and overwhelmed. “I learned later that, perhaps, he was jealous.” ��
…Evie, girl, back up, back up!
“He couldn't stand anyone else having something he coveted.” �
Covet.
Lucien nodded, remembering the men his father slaughtered and the crimson sea of blood soaking the barren ground outside the castle walls. The word defined another sin weighing on his father's condemned soul.
“There was a seal. He employed a brand for his mounts and disobedient servants.” His darkening gaze fastened to hers, seeking comfort in her eyes. “The iron had been forged in some strange and exotic land, crafted to his specifications. It remained close at his side, forever heated, and ready for use. My father didn't say a word and hauled me to my feet with one great hand. I assumed the action was to embrace me, as a father should.”
…heat of the brand, the Daemon's brand! �
Lucien nodded. “I don't recall screaming as the iron pressed to my palm. All I can recollect is his damning words ringing loud in my ears.” �
“What did he tell you?” �
“I shall know my enemies and my friends. You are neither. You are an abomination!” �
Eva's eyes closed, shielding her disbelief and horror. The Daemon of St. Lorraine had branded his child. Intentionally, Julian had orchestrated his brother's condemnation for his benefit. She felt another chill overtake her, and she cursed.
….back up, Evie, girl, there’s things you could never understand!
“How old were you?” She ignored Reese. Instead, she stifled the urge to leap up and turn the furnace another degree higher.
“I was a child,” he whispered, his face unnaturally pale. “I was scarcely six.”
Her hand crept to her throat, bile rising as she stared into the increasing darkness of his once gray eyes. “Julian?”
“My brother never revealed his ability. I didn't crossed paths with him again until the fateful night I fled St. Lorraine, when the curse reached its full degree.” He pushed his weight back into the worn brocade sofa and closed his eyes, attempting to prevent the unavoidable darkening.
“Is there a cure, some way to break the spell?”
“The curse foretells of a soul of good and light, the other of evil and strife. I had the good fortune that my mother's patient and guiding hand led me to the light. Whereas, Julian....”
“Your brother had D'Angel the Destroyer's guidance,” she finished, her thoughts pensive. “He’s evil and strife.”
Lucien nodded, although his eyes remained shut. “The curse came full circle the night Julian committed the final, sinful act, forever placing him in my father's good graces.”
“What did he do?”
“He murdered our mother.”
….damned soul with the demon's blood!
Lucien's sad eyes opened. The words were chilling, but not unfamiliar. If granted the benefit of tears, Eva felt the betraying wetness would have seeped from his eyes. She heard Reese's repetitive mantra and another chill washed over her.
Nauseated by the events, her disgust was obvious. Lucien attempted to rise, and she waved him back, swallowing.
“You showed me the brand the other night.” She managed, staring at his tortured face. “If you aren't the soul of evil and strife or the demon's blood, what do you do?”
“I'm the Gatherer.”
“What?”
….Gatherer of Lost Souls
“What?” She questioned, unable to believe the whispering voice in her ears.
….not safe, not safe, not safe!
“Your brother’s correct, on all counts. I’m not safe, where he is concerned.” Lucien sighed. “I am the bane of the undead. I collect lost souls, and his soul is among the lost.”
“Oh.”
The word was drawn out, the slightest mist of fog escaping her mouth as the room temperature became frostier.
….takes the soul into his hand
“So, you’ve been assigned to gather souls.” She slipped the tip of her tongue over her lips, her thoughts pensive. “You're a soul collector, which is why people avoid you, and why Reese says you aren't safe.”
“Yes.” He clarified morosely. “It’s the lingering spirits inhabiting the streets, homes, and alleyways that I draw into myself.”
….has the sight, remember his eyes
“Your eyes!” She exclaimed before lowering her voice to a whisper. “Your eyes darkened when you were on the set.”
“Ah, you're observant.”
She nodded, wanting to clap her hands together. “I assume they darken when there's a spirit present.”
….he can see me, always knows when I'm around, he’s always known
Lucien's lips tightened into a thin line. “When there's a spirit, my eyes change. The darkness allows me to see them, and the mortal world vanishes.”
Eva thought back to fateful night nearly two weeks ago, the precise evening she’d first heard her brother's irritating whispers.
“Reese is right, isn't he?” She indicated the phantom who glowered threateningly. “You’ve always been aware of him?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes moved to the smoky image, and she grateful Reese was the only spirit she could see. The specter stood a few paces behind her, his arms folded across his chest and his expression mutinous. The teasing and repetitive chatter of his voice fell silent for the first night in a week.
“Do you have the ability to gather Reese?”
….don't want to go! Won't go!
Lucien detected the pained words flowing thickly about the room. He noticed her curiosity and fear, as well as other indecipherable emotions. Despite the faint tremor in the young man's statement, he realized the specter's expression had changed dramatically. The teasing impression of youth had vanished, and the sockets of his eyes illuminated with a reddish glow.
“I'm not here to gather your brother's essence, Evangeline. Long ago, he offered guidance, and I owe him my gratitude.” The glow ebbed and, gradually, dimmed. “My brand marks heaven and hell, demons and angels, the good and the bad. The mark summons and gathers the lost, the forgotten, and the abandoned.”
“So, you do the so-called collecting and then what? You keep them?”
He shrugged. “From the moment their essence is drawn into my hand, I'm uncertain where they should travel.”
“There has to be a reason.”
“All I do is collect souls,” he responded. “What happens from there, I don’t know.”
“So, what do you have?" She rolled her eyes and considered the numbers of spirits he possibly held. "Thousands of souls bouncing around in the palm of your hand, making the brand do its bizarre little dance?”
“I assume the number’s more along the lines of hundreds of thousands, if not millions.”
“Gee.” She exhaled the childish exclamation before granting him a lopsided smile. “Split personalities have nothing on you.”
For the first time in a long while, he wanted to laugh.
“And you?” She interposed gently, as he fastened dancing eyes on her. “Why do you want to die?”
….four hundred years must be a real pain in the ass
Lucien controlled the urge to snarl at the smirking spirit. Although, he admitted, he was relieved the specter reverted to his more congenial nature.
“There’s nothing else I wish for, nor crave more in this world.” The laughter left his eyes and the stark severity of his expression returned.
Eva leaned forward, uncaring as books, DVDs, and magaz
ines spilled to the floor. It was obvious she had a lot on her mind, the familiar frown growing. Her eyes narrowed and her expression mirrored his, despite the increasing goose flesh crawling over her arms.
“Well, you've done screwed yourself, Mr. D'Angel.” She whispered, the misty puff of steam escaping with her breath. “It’s against my moral strictures to aid anyone in dying, including you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
In order to avoid succumbing to the darkness, one must endure the beauty of the light….
“No?”
Lucien sank back in his seat, his eyes wide, and his formally complacent features flooded with shock. In truth, he hadn’t suspected Evangeline would deny him what he sought. Yet, here she was, as defiant as any soul he’d encountered during his lengthy existence.
“You know, I’ve read your books. Rather heavy stuff, I admit, but I did slog through them.” Eva stifled another shiver as she gulped for breath. “I'm beginning to understand this ghost thing and all its crazy workings.”
“I'm pleased you’ve achieved that exalted level.” His gaze dropped to the jumbled pile of books on the floor, their spines, and pages bent.
“Don't be sarcastic, Lucien,” she snapped.
“I didn't intend sarcasm.” He grumbled, although there was an obvious lack of apology in his words.
“I’ve a need to understand what my role is in this life and death factor.” Eva's tone was firm and there was headstrong defiance injected into the demand.
He apprised her slowly. Reese remained behind her, his figure growing more solid as the moments passed. The flow of light surrounding them increased to a virtually blinding radiance.
….yeah left her out of the loop
“I could….” Lucien strove to control his rapidly growing temper, unsettled by the spirit's incessant commentaries.
….yeah, like you want to risk everything by pissing her off
Lucien drew his shoulders back, his features a serene mask before he lifted his darkening eyes to the hovering ghost. “At this moment, I understand where your sister obtained her absolutely enchanting off-screen vocabulary.”
….ain’t anything wrong with the way she talks!
“No, not if you care for young ladies to have the vernacular of sailors.”
….soldiers
“I'm aware of what you were, damn it!” He growled beneath his breath. “I was referring to her atrocious off-camera diction.”
….needed to learn to get her point across best way possible
“Will the two of you stop speaking about me like I wasn’t here?” Eva's censure did cause the pair to halt their cutting repartee. She eyed Lucien critically, noticing the unholy darkness of his eyes, and the dim flame reveled in the ebony depths. “You need to tell me more.”
“The fable of St. Lorraine dictates D'Angel's heirs must discover the light of the angels to obtain redemption.” Lucien explained tightly while he averted his darkened eyes from the hovering specter.
….ain't good enough
Lucien ignored the taunt. Stirring deep inside, he felt the faint coil of a despicable emotion he hadn’t experienced in centuries... anger. The feeling grew and threatened to overwhelm him.
“You assume I'm this supposed incarnation?” A derisive smirk accompanied her question.
….ain't nothing about her angelic
“You don’t see yourself as I do.” He kept his attention diverted from her brother, and peered into the disbelieving chocolate warmth of her eyes.
….harrumph!
“Whenever I look at you, I see a glow, Evangeline. It’s impossible to explain, but I know it's there.” He paused, longing to reach out and touch her cheek, to trace her petal soft lips with his thumb. Instead, his hands remained clenched on his lap, the tapered fingernails biting into the palm of his fingerless gloves. “Radiance shines from the depths of your soul. It exudes outwards, a beacon in the darkness, and you become as brilliant as star light.”
….think you're infatuated
“Star light.” Eva ignored Reese's comment. She shook her head and struggled to pull her gaze away. “I guess, after four hundred years, you know how to impress a woman with flowery words.”
“This is neither a joke, nor an attempt to impress you.” Lucien snapped, his jaw clenching. His eyes narrowed and the faint creases fanning from the corners became more obvious.
Silent, she reached a stunning realization. After watching successive seasons of his television program, she’d never seen him lose his grip on his arctic demeanor. It was clear her presence, or perhaps Reese's continuing commentaries, unsettled him.
“You, Evangeline, have a vibrant luminosity. This incandescence is the fire of the angels, as your name justly proclaims.”
….way too old, jail bait
“Shut up, Reese!” Eva colored painfully, rolling her eyes.
“Julian will be seeking the fire, as well.”
“He'll be looking for me?”
“My brother understands the prophecy must be fulfilled, one way or another. In his case, he wishes for absolute power and control.” Lucien forced out a heavy sigh, more from weariness than necessity. “If he suspects the power you wield, he won’t show any mercy to obtain his desires.”
Eva shuddered. “How bad is He?”
….demon's blood, evil, strife, demon's blood, full of strife!
Lucien leaned forward. In the dimness, Eva detected the most bizarre and oddly shimmering glow reflecting on his skin. Mesmerized, the radiance intensified. As she leaned in, Reese inhaled sharply, an obvious warning in the action.
….demon's blood!
“Your brother is correct.” Lucien admitted as her brother’s eerie words filled the room. “Julian is evil and strife, the walking epitome of our sire's daemon blood. Every catastrophe in recorded human history, since the mid-seventeenth century, He orchestrated. Name the crime, where mass populations were decimated, or vanished from the earth without cause, and he was involved. There is too many who remain earthbound due to my brother’s crimes and I must put a stop to his reign."
"How do you intend to do that?"
"I believe, with my death, He will cease to exist.”
“And if things don't work out the way you plan?”
“It’s a risk I have to take.” He admitted soberly. “If he obtains absolute power, the world is not prepared for the damage he could inflict.”
She shook her head, her expression grim.
“I won't have a hand in your death, Lucien.”
….stubborn girl
“You won’t?”
“You heard me.” She leaned closer, their noses almost touching. Instead of the breathlessness she experienced when she stared at Lucien, her heart leapt. Despite the placid calmness of his pale features, she detected the agitation swirling beneath the surface. He was everything he never revealed to the world, frustrated, angry, and defiant. “I won’t aide nor abet in your death.”
“You don’t comprehend the importance of my death, Evangeline. You're the key toward ending this abomination!”
“Pardon?” She asked innocently. There was a calculating expression darting through her eyes, causing Lucien to flinch. “What abomination?”
“Me!” Lucien stared at her disbelievingly. He was anchored to the couch, unable to move unless he unsettled her.
“You’ve managed so well.”
“Evangeline,” he breathed huskily. “I need you.”
“That’s what every woman wants to hear in their lifetime,” she rolled her eyes, her cheeks pinkening. “Honestly, you need me for all the wrong reasons.”
“Damn it!”
“Temper, temper,” she smiled, and the action as sweet and beguiling. “Tell me, do I shatter your composure, D'Angel?”
Lucien lifted his hands and raked them through his hair, frustrated.
“During my existence…” he began.
“Existence?”
“I lead a private life.” Lucien's hands fell and he f
orced himself not to grind his teeth. “With the exception of the past few years, I’ve avoided contact with living beings. I….”
“I’ve my opinion on this nasty matter.” Eva leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath flooding his astonished features, and her dark eyes glittered. “How can you truly wish to die when you’ve never lived?”
….got a point there
“I have lived, for more years than a man has a right to walk this earth.” Lucien snarled his retort, surprising himself. In the past, he had never lowered himself to the baser of his instincts.
“You hit the proverbial nail right on the head. You’ve existed,” she corrected cynically. “You're nothing more than a shell, as you admitted. I can gather you don’t eat, drink, or probably sleep.”
“I sleep.” He denied in a low, guttural tones.
“Ah.” She breathed knowingly. “Then, it would be a dreamless sleep, lacking warmth and vibrancy.”
Lucien exhaled a shuddering breath, wondering when she’d turned the tables. She didn't reel away in fear as other mortals, nor did she clutch at her chest and stare at him with dazed eyes.
He lifted a shaking hand from his lap and pressed his fingers to the middle of his chest. There, in the face of her calmness, an indefinable and intense ache started. Eva's eyes fastened to his face as she leaned in closer, appearing to torment him. The ache in his chest intensified and he winced.
“I exist, nothing more, nothing less.” He repeated haughtily, the effect ruined when the pressure of his fingers increased in the region of his heart. “I want to end this excuse of a life.”
….ah, damn, she has that look!
Reese's words swirled about them, the pronunciation unmistakably clear. In the midst of the pain assailing Lucien, Eva audaciously smiled.
“As I said, you existed. Existence doesn’t count,” she persisted, her eyes wide.
“None the less,” he began, only to be rudely interrupted.
“When was the last time you touched?” She murmured, unaware the penetrating warmth of her incandescence bathed him in an all-embracing wave.
….ah, shit!
Lucien ignored Reese's muttered profanity.
“Humans don’t crave my touch.”
The Soul Collector Page 11