The Soul Collector

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 forced 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.”

“I'm not just any human, am I?” She questioned with a breathless intensity, and he felt the heat from her radiate outwards on the fingers of an opalescent glow.

“No,” he responded, endeavoring to control his unsteady voice, and growing more confused by the moment.

“You're a liar,” she whispered.

“I'm not the daemon liar!” He snarled heatedly and she boldly granted him an indulgent smile. The action was nothing more than a slight twitch of her lips, and shook him to the core.

“I didn't say you were. I simply suggested you had surrendered to a human frailty, a lie.”

….Evangeline!

She ignored the softly warning voice. She moved to the table's edge, nearly unsettling it. Her face became a distorted blur to Lucien's dazed eyes and, for the first time in nearly an eternity, he couldn’t focus.

“When was the last time you were touched?” She persisted in the most tempting tones.

“It was you,” Lucien knew she didn't need an answer. She already knew the truth. “You were the last person.”

“Twenty years ago, Lucien?” Eva questioned, aware of the low hissing sound rising from the spirit behind her. “It’s been two decades since you last experienced human touch?”

A gnawing ache throbbed in his chest. His fingertips continued to stroke the offending region, a pained wince contorting his face, and he lifted shadowed eyes. A shimmering light flowed about their seated forms, immersing them in a blending of incandescent whites and violets.

“Angel's fire,” she mused, her eyes twinkling. “Angels are cold and distant. Fire is another matter, entirely. If I'm your purposed angel's fire, then….”

“I…” Lucien couldn’t think and quivered as she lifted her hand.

“Do you dare me?”

Any words he may have chosen froze in his throat. He focused on her hand, staring at the soft lines marking her palms, which revealed the supposed tales of her life and loves. Under the shadow of his lashes, he detected the minute impressions of fingerprints and the coursing blood pulsating throughout the blue tinted veins of her wrist.

….don't dance with the devil, Evie!

Lucien closed his eyes in mute resignation, the words whispering about the room. Reese's meaning was the truth, for he was the epitome of the devil's son. Evangeline did the unimaginable and risked her life to be in such close contact with him.

Without looking, he knew her hand remained before his face, the fingers twitching.

“I'm not the daemon….”

Whatever he had been about to say froze as her fingertips grazed his jaw. Her skin quivered against his, softness against hardness, warmth against iciness. Abruptly, Lucien’s tense body jerked, every nerve feeling dipped into a vat of boiling water. A flurry of long forgotten emotions rose from within, rocking him to the core, and shaking the accustomed cold.

A loud rush of deafening sounds filled his attentive ears, heated blood beginning to course with wild abandon through barren vessels. He felt afire, pulsating, and throbbing with unaccustomed waves of life. His breath caught, aching in his chest before being expelled. One moment he was hot, the next he was shivering, his body engulfed in a feverish sweat.

“You feel like ice.”

Astonished, her fingers trailed over his jaw. The sensitive tips rested on the high cheekbones, quivering on the rapidly ebbing iciness before moving to the corner of his eye. She lingered, his pale lashes falling as he closed his eyes. Beneath her sensitive touch, warmth coursed through his veins, the trembling pulse of his heart suddenly obvious.

“I'm a shell,” Lucien murmured unsteadily, slowly opening his eyes, unable to focus on her bright image. Barely able to speak, his words sounded distant. “I'm not worthy of life.”

“You’re wrong.”

Eva threaded her fingers through his closely cropped hair, and he felt a pleasurable sigh escape. He was silent as she perused his rigid features, bewildered at the sudden rush of bright color.

….you're not meant to touch him, don't touch!

“He won't harm me, Reese.” Eva assured the spectral image. She didn't move her attention from Lucien, the whisper of her breath catching.

….not wise, Evie

“When have I ever done anything wise?” She quipped with forced lightness, her fingers grazing Lucien's ear lobe. He trembled beneath her touch, the expression on his flushed face rapturous. Feminine power was a heady pleasure, and she took delight in the influence she held over this particular person.

….you don't understand, little sister

“What is there to understand?'

….playing with fire

“Maybe I am, Reese.” She admitted. “Then, maybe, I’m showing him something new.”

…why?

She colored hotly, and didn’t answer. She didn’t feel her brother needed to know about her feelings toward Lucien D’Angel, or the restless ache that drove her.

….he's still a man

“Tell Reese to leave.” Lucien commanded in a strangely gravelly voice, an ecstatic tremor flooding him. He inhaled, savoring the tastes and scents filling his lungs. There was a rush of long forgotten emotions, and he ached with a need long absent from his life.

“You heard him, big brother.” Eva’s fingers trailed to the wildly pounding pulse hammering in the side of Lucien's neck, and an answering ache throb deep within her. “I want you to go away!”

….Evie

“I'm not seven years old, any more.”

A sudden blast of freezing air filled the room. Sudden warmth filled the apartment and Eva sighed contentedly. Heat and silence surrounded her, filled with only the throbbing of her heart in tune with Lucien’s frantic beat, and the sound of their breathing.

“Showoff.” Lucien grumbled at Reese's departure.

“He enjoys the power.” She whispered conspiratorially, her caressing fingers wreaking havoc on his unsettled nerves.

“What did your brother say?”

“Why?” She questioned innocently, her other hand lifting to cradle his cheek. He was silent, his eyes closed, inhaling the scent of her skin deep into his aching lungs.

"I can't…."

Suddenly, Eva laughed, understanding what he couldn't put into words.

“When I touch you, you can’t see or hear the ghosts!”

He looked at her with nearly blind eyes, the glow radiating from her reflected in his steel gray orbs. The palm of her hand remained pressed against his cheek, offering a warmth and comfort he readily accepted.

“Evangeline, with your touch, I become what I'm not.” He admitted reluctantly, his words hot as they whispered across the delicate skin of her wrist. “I'm only a man.”

“When I'm near you, when you have your power, I'm almost unable to breathe or think.” She made the confession with sudden and dawning comprehension. “But, when I touch you, you suffer what I feel.”

“Yes.” He struggled to admit as she continued to run her fingers over his tingling flesh.

“I thought you were nothing more than a shell?”

“Your touch….” He couldn't think.

“It's been three hundred and ninety plus years since you’ve been touched?” She continued to place her hands over his face, her breath caressing his painfully heated flesh. “My poor, dear Lucien.”

His senses reeled and he ached in regions long forgotten. He growled deep in his throat and his eyes flew wide as he reached for her, his hands shaking with need.

“I'm only a man!” He repeated and gripped the tender flesh of her arms, dragging her closer. “I…. am... only...”

He didn’t finish speaking, the words halting when Eva performed the single action he’d only imagined. Temptingly, she captured his mouth with her soft lips, and fire shot through him at the surprising contact. A low and tormented groan slipped from him before he succumbed to the tantalizing softness. Languorously, he returned the gentleness of her kiss, his breath aching in his lungs.

She pressed closer, nearly tumbling into him. Her quivering hands steadied her near fall, moving from his face and resting on his shoulders. She gasped against his mouth, the sudden heat of his breath fanning her sensitive flesh.

“Please kiss me.” Eva pleaded, her words revealing the ache expanding within her. He released his painful grip on her arms, and cupped her face in his hands. He stared deep into the glowing depths of her eyes and slowly, deliberately, he complied.

She was breathless from the gentle onslaught of his lips. He flexed hungrily forward, lured by the unspoken promise in her seductive touch, while a highly inflamed groan erupted from his chest. He shuddered and pulsated with a rush of unfulfilled need, his loins surging with unrepentant longing. Every throbbing nerve trembled with her nearness, and an unrestrained quiver jarred him as the kiss deepened, seeming to draw the essence of her soul into him.

“I'm only a man.” He repeated the words in softly tortured tones. Eva's lashes fluttered and a low moan slipped from her as his lips caressed her cheek. Her body arched and she curved into his heated flesh, craving more.

Hoarsely, he murmured her name, his breath stirring wispy fine tendrils of hair. His ragged breath escaped in a shaky gasp and he pressed his forehead to hers, savoring the feel of her trembling body. His composure crumbled and an intensely throaty growl tore from the suffering depths of his anguished soul, shaking her.

“You are temptation, Star Light.” He whispered in a disconcerted and strangled tone. Lucien's breath escaped him from flared nostrils, each gasp appearing a struggle of valiant control, and his gloved hands dropped to the tantalizing curve of her waist.

Eva's vision was flooded with his brilliant image, her heartbeat soaring to unimaginable heights. She attempted to absorb every detail, the texture of his lightly flushed skin, the hardened length of lean muscle, and the hint of soft words. Her quivering fingertips trailed over a furiously pounding pulse in the side of his throat, pausing as she felt his ever-quickening reaction.

Entranced, aware of her yearning, she was inundated with emotion. He appealed to her darker sense, and a part of her id demanded appeasement. In the depths of her heart, which was so very much alive at this moment, she wanted Lucien. She didn't want to be the method in which he would seek his end. Her body arched into his with hunger, molding more to the hardened contours evident beneath the thickness of his dark sweater.

“Evangeline,” he ground out, and then halted. Whatever he had been about to say stuck in his throat as her fingertips traced his mouth, pausing to linger on his lower lip.

Lucien's gaze darkened, although not with the senses he had been gifted. Instead, the ebony color of his pupils enlarged, nearly encompassing the slate colored iris. He pulsated with highly aroused blood, sending his usually calm thoughts reeling into a spiraling dive of want and hunger. Eva clutched at his shoulders, urging him closer, as if she meant to meld into him.

“Do you need me, Lucien?”

She felt the alarming beat of his heart beneath her hand and the quivering gasps forced from his lungs. She was stunned as the heated fullness of his lips brushed her eager mouth, seeming to perform a wicked dance. Once again, her mouth parted, relishing the tantalizing warmth he tentatively offered.

Her starved senses detected the fragrance of long forgotten summer nights and sweet clover scented fields, mingled with a heady masculine aroma. He savagely deepened the pressure of his kiss until she became breathless, cajoling her to respond to him with equal measure.

Eva pulled her head back, wantonly relishing the sound of his disappointment before she sought to recapture the proffered warmth. She felt awash with absolute power and need as she brushed her lower lip over his parted mouth.

He trembled beneath her touch, and a muffled laugh escaped her. She captured the firm moistness of his lower lip between her teeth and drew him nearer with unvocalized need. She strained against him, and returned the hungry pressure, the experimental tip of her tongue darting across the texture of his lips.

Lost in his touch, her resolve weakened with the mind numbing wonder of his mouth. Eva felt on fire, her body flushed with heat and her heart pounding loudly as the breath threatened to explode from her aching lungs.

“You can't truly wish to die, Lucien.” She whispered throatily, her words sending tantalizing shivers across his skin.

He set her away. The living room walls rippled and buckled and she blinked repeatedly. She decided it was simpler to focus on the man who had left her lips deliciously swollen with the onslaught of his mouth.

“There’s nothing I want more than to leave this world, Evangeline. I’ve grown weary of the deeds to which I’ve borne silent witness. I know, as per the words of the prophecy of St. Lorraine, I can't risk Julian stealing you from me.”

“Lucien,” she began, whetting her lips with the tip of her tongue.

“I can't let him take you.” His words radiated with an undeniable firmness as he struggled to regain his shattered composure. “I won’t allow my brother to steal your essence, or destroy your foretold radiance.”

Lucien didn't need to speak for her to understand his thoughts were deep and dire, echoing of the one subject he feared above all else in the world.

Julian.