The Soul Collector

Chapter ELEVEN

There are moments in life that confound and amuse even the most bitter of souls

Evangeline cornered him in the lobby of the hotel, Reese dogging her shadow. Lucien acknowledged the ulterior motive in their confrontation, and the similarity of their expressions. Fierce determination, as well as uncertainty, glowed in her normally warm eyes.

“You do know I couldn’t bear the shame.” She sputtered.

He shrugged, his expression enigmatic.

Miami meant one thing to her, family. She couldn't here, knowing the show would be televised in a few weeks, and not visit her parents.

“I can't arrive alone.”

“Where?” He asked, deliberately obtuse.

“Did I forget to tell you we are in my family's new hometown?” She questioned then scowled. “Or did you know?”

He heaved a disgruntled sigh. “I am well aware your family moved here.”

“And you weren’t going to say anything?”

“What would you have me do, Evangeline?”

She folded her arms across her chest, huffing. “You can take me.”

“Do you truly intend to test me?”

“You shouldn't have scheduled a potential ghost hunting expedition in the city where my parents retired.” She attempted to quip, but failed. “It would be horrible if I didn’t visit.”

“You’ve avoided your family for years.”

She laughed, though the effort was forced. “Maybe I’m just being a sentimental fool.”

“Certainly, blame the holidays,” he grumbled.

“I can’t avoid them if I’m here.”

“This is difficult, Evangeline.”

….difficult is her middle name

“It is not!” She hissed beneath her breath to the air, restraining the need to stomp her foot. The unmistakable sound of laughter rippled around them, providing a cool and soothing breeze.

“Are you certain you wish to take me?”

“If I have to go to a site with your group, you can endure the nightmare of my dysfunctional family.”

It was Lucien's turn to laugh.

“You’ve no idea what dysfunctional may be, Evangeline.” He supplied sarcastically.

….damaged goods to his family

“Payback is a real….” She left the sentence unfinished, but it didn't stop Reese from chirping in.

….bitch

“Your family,” he began, staring pointedly at the phantasm.

“Yeah, I know, wonderful bunch.”

“Julian….”

“Lucien, if you can tolerate my family, you'll survive Julian. Besides, I learned to adjust to your family.”

“I don't have any family.”

“Oh, yeah, you do." Her smile broadened to impish proportions and her meaning became blatantly clear. "You’ve the oddest bunch I’ve met in years.”

“They are, I suppose.” He answered grudgingly, shrugging. His fellow investigators had become the family he never had, despite their distinct nuances.

“You've blinded yourself from the obvious.” She responded before sobering, and stared earnestly up at him. “I can't go home alone.”

“You're never alone.” Lucien soothed. “You have Reese.”

She grimaced, her expression pained.

“We both know he's the reason I became the black sheep.”

“What would you wish of me, Evangeline?”

“Come with me.”

….gonna hide?

He scowled darkly. "I don't do public appearances…"

“Neither do you do interviews.” She pointed out. “Remember, you made an exception.”

“Just once, I did,” he admitted grudgingly, “all for you.”

….watch it

“Would you do it again, for me?”

“I'm not capable.” Lucien insisted. “My visions don’t make me a candidate for good company.”

“You’re not like that all the time.”

He cocked his head to one side, her precise meaning unclear. He was unprepared as Eva reached for him, the effect of her touch instantaneous. As she touched his gloved hand, his back slammed into the hallway wall, the sound a bone-jarring thud.

A strangled gasp ripped from the depths of his lungs, followed by the exhalation of a shuddering breath. His sunglasses slipped, falling askew, and he stared at her with eyes that flickered from coal dark orbs of obsidian to slate gray. Complacently, she plucked the offending lenses from his face, her gaze strangely serious.

Throwing his head back, a low growl of agony tore from Lucien's lips. Every pore felt afire, the maddening course of blood singing through his veins and roaring loudly into his ears. He flushed hotly, his pallor ebbing as the precious taste of life erupted throughout him. The rush of sensations, the blood, the breath, the heartbeat thundering in his sensitive ears, became nearly orgasmic in nature.

He eased himself from the wall. Tenacious after-effects rippled through him, displayed by quivering muscles. He forced himself to focus on her shimmering features, a low moan rising from him. He ached with an unbearable amount of indescribable pain; all brought on by the hand she steadfastly refused to withdraw.

“Come with me, Lucien.” She whispered beguilingly. Eva batted her siren eyes and he felt the warmth of her sweetly scented breath wash over the corded muscles of his neck. He bit down on his tongue, the sharp taste of blood evident. “Please, please, come with me.”

As the shuddering sensations ebbed, and his senses became finely tuned to what he had forgotten, he weakened. Instead of the spirits that tormented him for so long, he focused on the lusciousness of her rounded curves and her bewitching smile.

At that moment, Lucien knew he would travel to the ends of the earth to stand at her side.

“I don’t appreciate being blackmailed, Evangeline.” He attempted to sound offended but understood his words sounded weak, even to his ears.

She shrugged and leaned into his chest, her body blazingly warm.

“Fine by me, D'Angel. I think you need to remember, though, neither do I.” She responded from the corner of her clenched mouth, fierce determination glittering in the chocolate dark eyes. “You need my help in where ever fate chooses to lead you.”

“Evangeline,” he swallowed hard as he whispered her name, wincing. “Our fates are intertwined….”

“If we are fated to be so tangled up in this mess your father created, you can afford to amuse me.”

….you're screwed, D'Angel



***



Evangeline Keegan would drive him mentally and physically insane.

Lucien stared up at the ceiling of the sprawling bungalow, attempting to gather his scrambled thoughts. He wanted to grimace as the pounding throb of his heartbeat intensified, before lowering his attention back to Eva's dark head.

She had a firm hold on his gloved hand, her face serious as she looked up. Flushed, her expression was almost feverish in the purplish hue of the setting sun. This evening, to his amazement, she was more beautiful than he remembered.

Loud voices surrounded them. These weren’t the unnatural whispers to which he’d grown accustomed over his long existence. These belonged to her family, the sounds a mixture of laughing children as they ran, scolding and admonishing chastisements from concerned parents, and booming echoes of laughter.

For once, in a long time, his surroundings lacked the images of the otherworld. The experience was all due to Evangeline, his personal and tormenting angel.

The expedition to Mendelssohn House had cost him dearly, Lucien realized. He should have known she’d see through his form of revenge for the torture she inflicted at her apartment, since he couldn’t feign innocence. She vowed she wouldn't have anything to do with his death, and she wanted him to experience life in the fullest.

In its place, she gave to him the unexpected. She had a way of changing a man's mind, especially after he had it so firmly set! He was confused, wondering what he really wanted in this world full of shadows and light.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that he wanted her.

She looked up at him, a delightful twinkle in her eyes as she graced him with the most bewitching grin. His grasp on her hand tightened and he returned her smile, and the honesty in his action startled her.

He knew, though he’d lost the privilege of his sight while holding her hand, there was still the faintest touches of glow surrounding her. His pale regard shifted to the soft curve of her mouth, and his body betrayed him as it tightened with yearning. His attention was riveted to the fullness of her lower lip. A breath slipped from her, and the scent of peppermint sweets whispered with the softness of her sigh.

Lucien's thoughts drifted. He wondered how she’d react if he were to press his mouth to hers, and savor her taste. He grimaced with the thought, his yearning outweighing the pain.

The yearning tormenting him was new and demanding, and she accomplished the impossible with her insatiable curiosity. Evangeline placed an unquenchable hunger into his existence, a gnawing ache that hadn’t existed beforehand. She was his angel, his pre-ordained salvation, but there was more to her than he comprehended.

He knew she was a dangerous temptation. Before she entered his world, he wanted the peacefulness of death's slumber.

Now, he wanted her.

Lucien lifted her hand to his chest, pressing the limb to his thudding heart. She stared at him, an unspoken question in her eyes as she felt the thunderous pounding. He lowered his head toward her, his serious expression softening. Unable to control the urge, he brushed the lightest of electrical kisses across the tempting flesh of her lips.

“I only said to play the boyfriend.” She whispered against his mouth, peculiarly breathless. Eva pretended to embrace him, the appearance of an enraptured couple tantamount.

“Boyfriend,” he chuckled the ironic word against her mouth. The unfamiliar warmth of his lower lip glided across the flesh he knew was rapidly becoming as sensitive as his own. “I'm not familiar with this word.”

“Lucien,” she scolded, determined to keep up appearances. “Beau, intended, whatever you guys used to call it in your day.”

He hummed deep in his throat, the sound erotic. The pressure of his lips was quivering and teasing, unconsciously tempting her with the same fire she sent through his heated flesh. He’d never had the opportunity at any of what she whispered.

Show me life, he wanted to whisper, unable to speak the words. Show me what I’ve lost, Evangeline. Show me everything.

Dazed, he pulled his mouth away, and frowned. He realized she might accomplish what Julian wouldn't, all with just a touch.

She was capable of killing him, slowly, but surely.

Perhaps he shouldn't have come to her parent's house. He understood she’d be unable to visit the state without making the most casual of entrances for the holidays. He simply wasn’t prepared for the method in which she enlisted his assistance.

“Boyfriend,” he whispered against her forehead and pressed a light kiss to the furrow between her brows. “I imagine the moniker has a slightly demeaning intent behind it.”

“Demeaning?” She attempted to pull away, but stopped, realizing the action could be misconstrued as a lover's spat.

“I'm far from being a boy.”

She blushed and he detected the grimace of discontent lingering within her.

“If it’s any consolation, Reese is siding with you on this.”

A short bark of rusty laughter erupted from Lucien, drawing all eyes to them. “I forgot he remains with you.”

It was a startling admission to make, and Eva smiled. For the briefest moment, while she held his hand, Lucien forgot the spirits lingering at every twist and turn in his world.

“I'm not as fortunate.” She grimaced and leaned closer, her words a soft whisper. “He’s here, and I hear everything he says. Let's just say, despite the fact he wanted come, he's not pleased.”

“You could have arrived, alone, in sorts.” He attempted to placate. “This fiasco was unnecessary.”

“Lucien D'Angel.” She admonished, the fullness of her lush breasts pressed to his chest, and her titter of laughter breathy. “This is a matter a man would never understand, no matter how old.”

“Explain this logic.”

“Feminine vanity,” Eva supplied airily, wishing to end the low-voiced debate.

“Ah.”

The sound was all encompassing, as if capable of explaining the celestial workings of the universe. Lucien nodded and looked around the room. He judiciously eyed her older brother's florid features and her mother's flushed expression of satisfaction.

“How is Reese?” He found himself asking and watched her living brother head toward them, his teenage son in fast pursuit.

“He's enjoying every moment,” she admitted with a withering glare before she eased back, tugging at her earlobe.

Her hand ensconced in his grip, they affected the most affectionate pose as her scowling brother approached. Eva rested her forehead of Lucien's shoulder, inhaled his crisp scent, and felt his breath trail across her neck.

“Damn, Evie, let the man breathe!” Frank muttered and halted. The suddenness of his stop nearly caused his son's gangly body to careen into his back. The youth drew up short and his faced flushed with pronounced eagerness.

Let the man breathe.

Instead of taking the offense, as she might have years ago, she fought the urge to giggle uncontrollably. She buried her face against the thin material of Lucien's sweater, attempting to muffle the sound, and failed miserably. Her brother would never understand she was permitting the man to breathe. She closed her eyes and struggled to contain her mirth, the warmth of Lucien's arm slipping about her waist. He pressed her close in what appeared to be his own denial of her brother's charges.

“Sorry, Frank,” Lucien responded congenially, his gaze serious. He watched the young man at her brother's side anxiously shift from one foot to another. “I fully urge Evie to hold onto me. You do recall the effects of young love, don’t you?”

Frank guffawed loudly. His laughter resounded for a few moments, intensifying the blush burning his sister's ears. “Yep, pains in the asses when they're around you then you feel like dying when they ain't.”

…. nailed it on the head, didn't he?

Eva stilled another laugh at the comment.

“Most certainly,” Lucien pressed a feather-light kiss to her ear. “Evie, you might as well let go of the man.”



….can't. He'd scare you to death, Frankie

“I prefer to have Evie on my arm.”

….humph

“She gonna let go of you long enough so you can eat.”

“I hope so.” Luke smiled warmly.

“Mom outdid herself this year.” Frank lauded the woman's abilities loudly, his praise applauded by their father from across the room.

….she always does

Apparent only her eyes, Eva watched Reese's shadowy spirit shift across the room. His sepia image brushed across her father's lined features before seeking her mother's more rounded shape. The spirit's vague features were serious and filled with emotions she didn't have trouble interpreting.

The faintest of breaths escaped him, invisible to the human eye, and he leaned in close to the older woman. Her mother paused in the midst of the conversation she was having with Beth, Evie’s sister. Whatever she had been about to say remained forgotten, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the air as a slow tear slipped down her lined cheek. Her hands, soft and twisted with age, absently swiped at the offending drop. Beneath her breath, the quivering whisper of her son's name slipped free.

Eva understood, for the briefest of seconds, her mother had felt his presence. Reese was home, as he promised he would be, savoring every stolen second. She blinked threatening tears away and turned to Frank, catching the tail end of the conversation he was having with Lucien.

“….ham, potatoes, green beans, and three types of pies.”

There was the suspicious sound of Eva's stomach as it grumbled loudly, and her date had the audacity to chuckle.

“Pecan?” He breathed and sniffed appreciatively at the air.

“Mom makes the best pecan pie this side of Georgia.”

Lucien released his hold on Eva's waist and turned her about, although his hand never left hers.

“I haven't had a good pastry in centuries.” He commented with honesty only she comprehended.

“You'll have to fight Dad and Mariah’s husband for it. Heaven only knows, the two of them polished off one in a single sitting.”

Eva chuckled, the sound watery. Lucien spared her a cautious glance, noting her over bright eyes. The evening was beginning to exact a toll on her.

“We ain't eating yet, you know. Besides, this boy of mine wants to pass some time with you.” Frank blurted out, dragging his son forward. “It seems he loves to watch that show of yours, and he's a big fan!”

Lucien inclined his head, his expression curious.

“Talk to him, boy!”

Jimmy swung his long arms nervously at his sides, lifting one long finger hand to brush an errant lock from his eyes. He stammered uncomfortably, and appeared to have great difficulty in forming a coherent thought as he stared at his television idol.

“Francis, don’t embarrass your son.” Eva chastised gently, shaking her head at her brother.

Frank looked between the pair, a familiar scowl forming between his own brows. “My name is Frank, not Francis.”

She smirked, wrinkling her nose. “What? You don’t like the name?”

“Never could stand it.” He admitted with a scowl. “I took some of the most awful ribbing for that damn name.”

“I seem to recall Reese wouldn’t let you live it down,” she interjected, her eyes twinkling. “Do you remember how he would stand on the porch and call for you, making sure everyone down the street heard him?”

Frank’s face nearly went an unimaginable shade of purple. A grumble rose from his barrel-like chest, but stilled as quickly as it had started. Eva detected the faint sound of laughter in the deep recesses of her hearing and knew something unusual had occurred.

“Damnedest thing,” Frank voiced absently and ran a mutton-sized hand over his cheek.

“What?” Eva blinked innocently, keeping her eyes deliberate wide. Lucien looked back and forth between the pair, catching the glimmer in Eva's over bright eyes.

“I swear I almost hear him yelling for me.” Her brother turned away from her, blinking. “I wonder what it would be like, if Reese would've been here?”

Forever trapped in his youth, Reese's flickering image was dancing, shouting Francis at the top of his lungs. He laughed and reeled about, joining his family in the night of holiday festivities.



***



“They wanted us to stay.”

“You could.” Lucien response was a whisper. They strolled, as casual as sated lovers, down the brightly lit hall of the hotel. Her steps slowed and he drew to a halt, his fingers still intertwined with hers. “Do you want to go back?”

She squeezed his hand. “Reese wanted to remain behind. I couldn't leave you alone.”

“One more night wouldn't make any difference.” He admitted.

That was the difference between them, she realized. Despite their differences, she could call on her family whenever she needed them.

Lucien was different. His father had been a sadistic dictator more interested in murder and mayhem, and his brother hunted him. He had suffered an eternity of loneliness and sadness, trapped in a world never of his own making.

She didn't want him to be alone again.

“I’ll stay with you, Lucien.” Her whisper was soft and oh-so-feminine to his frayed senses.

“You don’t…”

“I went with you, I came back with you. Besides,” she attempted to interject some levity into the conversation. “I couldn't have you wandering the streets of Miami all by yourself. You might replace me with some saucy Caribbean vixen.”

He managed to smile weakly. She could never be replaced, this starlight that shone so bright even in his normalized vision. There wasn't another woman in the world that equaled the power she held over him.

“Thus, you opt to remain with me, the most damned of damned?” He lifted his gloved hand from his side and flexed it. Her eyes never shifted from his face, and her features softened perceptibly.

“Thus, Lucien, I opted to stay with the person who needs me the most,” Eva responded in kind. He leaned toward her, his expression unreadable. “Consider it the spirit of the season.”

“Then grant me one wish, in the spirit of the season, Evie.” He whispered fervently.

“Oh, not you, too.” She grumbled and shook her head.

“What?”

“Evie,” she scowled but didn't remove her hand from his tight grip.

“Your family calls you that, do they not?” He questioned, already knowing the response. It was the simpler version of her name, far gentler than the name she chose for her profession.

She rolled her eyes and shifted on her feet, tottering on her heels.

“I prefer it when you call me Evangeline.” She admitted and a slight flush crept into her face. Attempting to make her mind blank, she focused the pulse throbbing in a slow and steady pace at the base of his throat.

“Evangeline?”

His throaty pronunciation warmed her and she nodded.

“You never use your proper name.” He pointed out. “Everything is Eva, or Evie.”

She stared into his adored but troubled features.

“I just like the way you say Evangeline.” She admitted and saw the smile creep into his eyes. Her breath became tight and her heart began to thud wildly. Desperate to clear her traitorous thoughts of seduction, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “What do you wish, Lucien?”

His gloved hand rose to her cheek and he cupped the softness, his touch poignantly gentle.

“Stay with me tonight.”

Her heart did the oddest thing by catapulting into her throat, the beat intense. Her blood roared in her ears, and her face flamed with betraying heat.

“Lucien?”

“No.” He repeated the word several times, flushing with color. “I didn't mean….” He closed his eyes and struggling for a coherent thought. “Merde!”

Eva understood the explicative.

“Are you…?”

“Am I capable?” He dropped his hand and raked trembling fingers through his hair. Lucien blushed furiously and closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I don't know.”

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“I haven't had…. relations with a woman since I was young.”

“Young?”

“Damn it all, Evangeline!” He snarled, his eyes flying wide. “I haven't….” He foundered for words, mortified. “Not since,” he exhaled. “Not since my actual youth!”

“Oh?” Absently, she tallied the years within her head.

“Don't count, Evangeline.” He snapped without any heat. “You're humiliating me.”

She winked, stilling the series of numbers.

“For once,” he paused, refusing to release her hand. He appeared relieved when she didn't attempt to extract her fingers. “I want to know warmth when I sleep. I want to remember what it feels like to dream. I want to feel the comfort of another person at my side.”

He wanted pleasant dreams and comfort. The words whispered repeatedly in her head, soft and pleading, gently coaxing. The temptation was there, so silvery soft.

“No sex.” She wondered if she were tempting fate as the words fell from her trembling lips.

“No sex.”

She felt strangely disappointed and considered his words. He was wretchedly serious, which she found disarming and enchanting. Eva nodded in response, knowing he would never overstep the boundaries dividing their worlds.