The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,39

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.