The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,38

and he leant forward. “It was taboo to amuse the heirs of the monarch with such tales. To do so, would have been labeled dissension.” �

“Excuse me?” �

“It would mean the end of your life. My sire never delivered an idle threat, and death would have been immediate.” �

…sort of an unfinished legend. Those boys who wrote the fairy tales should have gotten their hands on it�

“They did,” Lucien’s expression remained shuttered. “The tale was deemed a bit too macabre.” �

…have you read the unedited crap? �

Lucien chose to ignore the question. Reese was opinionated and highly inquisitive, as well as very vocal. As for the normal intelligent haunting Lucien encountered, Reese's capabilities bordered on the extraordinary.

“I gather you had a pretty lonely childhood.” Eva’s hand waved, as if she was attempting to stress the words.

“I assumed my brother and I were close. We had solely each other, for there weren’t any other children with whom we associated. The peasant children were sickly, and wasting away.” � “Is Julian cursed, as well? �

“Julian and I suffer from the same curse, although in varying degrees.” Lucien sighed, his shoulders slumping. “His power and his compassion were a farce, meant to bring my demise.”

“What happened between the two of you? What changed your perception of your brother?” �

“Julian was his favorite. I was young and eager for my father's admiration, and sheltered from the horrors of his actions. When I was in good health, Julian persuaded me to tell father of my visions.” �

“You sought him out?” �

“I was fervent and foolish, and craved his approval. My brother was his shining star, the heir apparent.” Hurt was evident in his confession. “I never questioned the motivation behind Julian's actions. I wanted him to know of the spirits, and I was proud. Incorrectly and regrettably, I imagined the admission would garner me acceptance.” �

The memories rolled into the forefront of his mind, the forgotten pain a dull ache of betrayal.

“My brother followed me, urging me on. I didn't find it peculiar that he left me at the entryway to the throne room. My father was seated before a roaring fire, surrounded by his most loyal knights. My heart had been in my throat. Ah, how eager I had been!” He paused, his expression morose. “I fell to my knees. Eagerly, as a child would do, I babbled wildly about my power." He gathered a steadying breath. "It was the first time I witnessed true and absolute fear. He was frightened, an experience D'Angel the Destroyer didn't appreciate.”

“He was frightened of a child?” �

“You must understand the witch of St. Lucien refused to grant him her power. Moments before he struck her down, the woman delivered the curse.” Lucien pushed further back into the sofa, running his hands through his hair in agitation “Julian and I received a summation of her powers. We lacked the ability to foretell the future, as my father had desired, but it didn't matter.” �

“I don't think he was frightened.” �

…far from it, entirely against his chemical make-up�

Eva paced nearer to Lucien's seated figure. She pushed the odd assortment of magazines, books, and DVDs aside, and sat on the coffee table. A faint hissing sound filled her ears, followed by the rumbling intonation that had become more familiar over the past few days. She ignored the sound, shooting a disgusted frown across the room.

…not safe, little girl, back up! �

Eva turned toward Lucien, her ponytail swinging with the action. Lucien blinked, blinded. The glow of nighttime stars shimmered in her hair, filling the dark room with a dreamlike sense of luminosity. The light surrounding her increased, beaming in ribbon-like streams from her fingertips, and glistening like raindrops in the loose tendrils. She didn't seem aware of the change overtaking her, blissfully ignorant of the radiance seeping from her every pore.

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