The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,60

sorry wouldn't be enough?” She questioned.

“You risked everything!” He ground out as the color of his eyes returned to the hue of molten steel. Exasperation creased his features and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes.

“It wasn't intentional.”

“Damn it all!” He exhaled a breath he didn't require. “You can't comprehend the impact you could have had on the crew!”

“That's where you're wrong, Lucien.” Eva retorted, beginning to grow irritated. “I've berated myself all the way back to the hotel! Besides, you can't fault me for doing what’s natural.”

“Natural?” He flung his sunglasses to the floor, his frustration obvious. He stalked away, reaching the door of his hotel room first. Lucien pulled the key from the depths of his coat and attempted to insert it into the lock. His hand trembled, and he was unable to complete the action.

Eva came to his side, and waited until he placed the card in her upturned hand. There wasn't a word uttered as she slid the key into the slot and swung the door wide. He stormed past her, flinging himself on the bed.

“Yes, natural.” Eva hissed. She followed him into the hotel room, kicking it shut. Thankfully, the portal closed without the expected bang, and she planted her balled fists on her hips. Lucien didn't appear surprised at her intrusion and, instead, stared up at the ceiling. “I can't help that I had the living crap scared out of me!”

“You knew what to expect!” He countered. He pulled himself upright, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. He chose not to focus on her, preferring to stare at the wall behind her.

“What one sees on television and experiences in life is as different as night and day!” Eva threw her hands up and stalked toward him, drawing his attention. “Why is it so hard for you to understand a simple human fallacy?”

“Stop it.” He shook his head, his pale fingers tugging the silky material of his shirt from the waist of his trousers.

“Until I met you, I didn’t believe in the paranormal. I went about in my own little haze, living life as the living do. Since we’ve met, I’ve had more unbelievable shit thrown at me than I could imagine!” She stilled the urge to throw her hands up. “There was a shadow, Lucien. I saw the image of a woman walking toward us, in period dress. There was something in that house!”

He heaved a heavy sigh, his anger draining away. “It was the spirit of the eldest. She has, apparently, remained behind to keep a watchful eye on the residence.”

“Your hand, Lucien….”

His hands dropped to his lap and formed into tight fists. Perhaps her reaction was his own making, he pondered. As a rule, he managed an exploration before the other crewmembers would set off in their pre-assigned pairings. Without a camera lenses or a boom mike focused on him, Lucien gathered whatever souls lingered at NADGEL investigation sites.

Pensive, he considered her words. He had scarcely been over the threshold at the Mendelssohn House when he removed his gloves. Instantly, an eerie and frightening glow had radiated from his stricken hand. Away from the other investigators and the ever-capable camera lenses, everyone remained unaware of the change.

Evangeline was aware of his glowing palm, as well as the angels and demons within seeking lost souls. The incandescence increased as the specter glided toward them, unhappy. Apparently, the last of the Mendelssohn family understood the paranormal investigators had invaded the residence for the night.

“Your hand was glowing.”

“I'm aware of the fact.” His admission was rough, his jaw tightening as he flexed his hand. “You, alone, know the scar illuminates when there's a spirit present. Whether good or evil, my mark serves one purpose.”

“You were going to gather her, weren't you?”

He inclined his head sharply. “You interrupted.”

Eva neared him. It was a colossal effort for Lucien not to jerk away, after the devastating faux pas. She wasn’t able to rationalize what frightened her most, the glow from his hand, or the shadowy spirit of a woman long dead.

At the Mendelssohn House, Eva had reached for Lucien as the spirit neared. Unconsciously executed she grasped the hand leading into another realm, and the results were intense. A sudden heat scorched a trail across her shoulders and into the depths of her stomach. She shook, unable to wrench away.

The contact sent Lucien careening into the wall. The house shook with the violent impact, pictures vibrating in their frames, and brass knobs rattling in the closed doors. Pulled