Chapter Seven
The valet helped Eva out of the car and gave her an appreciative wink.
She smiled at him. Pleased she’d decided to make the extra effort and take herself outside of her normal safe zone. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt, or maybe blousy top and she was good to go. Tonight seemed to call for more. Judging from the reactions of the males around her, mission accomplished, she felt good, she looked good.
The outfit wasn’t something she normally wore, and in truth, she’d bought it almost a year ago with the intention of wearing it on what would have been her first date with Devlin. A date, after she’d found out he was a hunter, which never happened. So much for spending all that time shopping, but perhaps it would be worth it. She got her hair done, while the shoes and purse were new. She’d also bought a red dress today. The one she wore tonight was the black one, not quite as daring as the red sitting in the garment bag in her closet. Maybe she’d wear that on her next date with Michael. Assuming they had one.
Evangeline wasn’t kidding when she told Devlin she didn’t care if Michael was soulless. She already knew he was and she didn’t care. Nor was she ready to reveal that to Devlin, given his prejudice where soulless were concerned. Not all soulless were driven to kill.
There was a draw between her and Michael, definitely attraction, not the kind she felt for Devlin, but something else. Different, but there, yet it could also just be the allure of the soulless. She owed it to herself to find out if Michael could be her destiny, at the very least if he could be redeemed. Even the Chroniclers were being judged, so she wasn’t so quick to assume Michael was in the bloodsucker category, and even those could change.
The maître d’ took her past the tables of patrons to an area in the back, beyond the wine crates piled chest high, and through an archway. Michael sat in the center of the cozy private room at a table for two. No electric lights were on in there. Instead, there were candles on the table and the wall scones in the room were all candlelight. It was a beautiful room, one set for seduction. While the area was large enough for two or more other tables, theirs was the only one in there.
Michael rose to his feet as soon as he saw her, a single red rose in his hand, and came toward her as he looked her over from her feet to her hair. “Wow!” he said. His voice had gone husky like he couldn’t find the words.
Just the kind of reaction she was going for. She smiled.
He handed her the rose, then guided her to the chair across from the one where he sat.
As soon as they were both seated, the maître d’ opened the bottle of wine already at the table and poured a glass first for Michael, who tasted it and nodded to the man. After the guy finished pouring for them both, he discretely backed out leaving them alone.
Michael took her hands and raised them to his lips, kissing the back of each one. His lips were cool against her flushed skin. While he lowered her hands, he continued to hold onto them. “You look beautiful, Evangeline. I’m so glad you agreed to have dinner with me. And if I’m a lucky man, the first of many.”
Evangeline inhaled the fragrance from the rose. Such a beautiful gesture from a highly attractive man. As he sat across from her, she studied him, this time armed with the information Devlin had given her and her own knowledge. Her senses were wide open and she couldn’t read him.
As the one chosen to lead the Chroniclers, her senses were more acute than the others, but he was really blocking her probes quite well. Which was what had clued her into the fact that he might be something more than he appeared. As she sat there staring into his eyes, even in the candlelight enhancing his already ethereal features she could tell he wore contacts. Colored contacts to block his dead eyes, she wondered if the dark blue eyes he sported would have been the color of his eyes, if he had a soul. She’d asked Devlin what color Michael’s eyes were, it was just a test because she didn’t know. He’d worn glasses both other times she’d been with him. She also took notice when he looked into her eyes he made no effort to enthrall her, not that it would work on her.
Michael took her hand again and raised it to his lips. This time he kissed her palm.
She felt a slight flutter in her stomach. Not anywhere near the heat she’d felt earlier from Devlin but still something. Yet, she wondered if it came from her or if he was manipulating her emotions. Some soulless could do that with a touch.
There was only one way to deal with this, she was glad for the privacy so they could speak frankly. Just because she told Devlin to leave him be didn’t mean she would. Regardless of what Devlin thought, she had every intention of confronting Michael, and she also didn’t come unarmed. She wasn’t stupid.
She’d give Michael the chance to explain what exactly he had planned. She knew there were soulless out there whose chosen meal was love. The emotion they craved, perhaps that’s what Michael searched for. Whatever it was, she aimed to find out. If he was a bloodsucker, she needed to know that too. She would not be the type of prey he’d crave, so she had no fear, she’d been well trained and was well armed. She carried a special custom-made blade in her purse. With the push of a button, it would become three times the length of her purse, and she also carried a small pistol strapped to her thigh.
A bullet wouldn’t kill him but it would slow him down enough for her to get away, if she had to. Besides, she knew Devlin would be nearby. She pushed him out of her thoughts, she couldn’t allow herself to think about him.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said, drawing her attention. “But the chef is a friend of mine and I asked him to prepare something special for us tonight.”
“Interesting.” And it was considering soulless didn’t eat, that and he had someone he claimed as friend. “What’s he going to fix?”
“She, and I’m not sure. I just need to know if you’ve got any dietary restrictions or things you don’t like so I can let the waiter know.”
She smiled, she liked his consideration, and the fact the chef was female also explained why he’d know her and they would be ‘friends.’ Something told her the chef was probably very attractive. “Thank you for that, but no,” she said. “None whatsoever. Well, that’s not true, I’ll eat almost anything except snails. I don’t care how you pretty up their names or what kind of sauce you have them swimming in.”
He laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled but there was no inner shine within the depths of his glass-covered gaze. “Excuse me,” he said as he pushed a button she hadn’t noticed before at the side of the table. “I just need to get the waiter in here.”
The waiter came over in moments.
“Tell Sonnie no snails, but everything else is fair game.”
The waiter nodded and left them alone.
Michael waved his hand toward the glasses in front of them. There was both a white and red wine already in the glasses on the table near his place setting. However, only the glass of white the maître d’ had poured sat in front of her. “I prefer a Cab Sav, but I thought you’d prefer their Chardonnay. It’s award winning, but if you’d prefer the red I can have them bring the bottle.”
She picked up the Chardonnay and took a sip. “Mmm, good. Crisp but not too sweet. This is very good. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He picked up his glass of red wine and held it up. “Here’s to us, and may this meal be the start of many we share.”
She raised her glass to touch his, and they both took sips before setting the glasses down on the table. As soon as they did, another waiter came into the room. He had a basket of artisan bread in interesting geometrical shapes and a small square plate with seasoned olive oil for dipping; he placed everything on the table and withdrew.
“Wow, this place has great service,” she stated.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“This is my first time.”
“Yes, but not your first time in LA?”
“That’s true, but when I was here I was a poor college student. I couldn’t afford to eat in places like this. I had to live in the dorms and then in an apartment with four other girls where noodles and peanut butter sandwiches were standard fare.” Her family had money but they wanted her to live among regular humans to be able to better understand the privileges she’d inherit.
“I know you told me you recently moved here from New York. How long did you live there?” he asked.
“I’d lived in New York most of my life.” The first few years, when her parents were alive, she and her sisters lived with them in Texas, in a quiet out of the way little town. After they died, she’d lived with her aunt in New York.
“So what made you move to LA?”
“I’ve always liked California, and when I was offered a chance to open my own business here, I took it.”
“Ah yes, the bookstore. A family business you said.”
“Yes. I love books. I collect a lot of out of print hard to find publications.”
“Aren’t print books becoming a dying species?” He chuckled.
His laugh didn’t seem natural to her. “Maybe but I love digital books too. Makes it a lot more convenient to carry one e-reader the size of one book that contains hundreds of books as opposed to carrying around hundreds of books.” She grinned. “But there will still always be people out there, myself included, who might still have a need to hold a print book in their hands every now and then. And of course, there are some people who like hard copies of original editions. Some of which are not digitalized.”
He nodded. “I too, prefer my books bound but I understand completely. It’s like my business. Yes, you can go buy a cheap copy of almost any great work of art, but there’s something special about owning original artwork. Something created by someone extraordinary.”
“Exactly.” She smiled at him. He did understand.
He leaned forward as if to say something but there was a noise to her left and she turned to see the waiter and his helper entering the room. They both held large trays in their hands piled with various dishes.
“Oh my,” she said when they began to place the offerings on the table. “This is a lot of food.”
“Yes, I’m not sure I can really do it justice either. We’ll just have to take a carry out bag.” He smiled at her.
Her heart did a little double beat. The man truly was devastatingly handsome. But when she gazed into his eyes again, there was no light there. No heat like she felt with Devlin.
After the waiters left, she picked up her fork. The waiters had prepared both plates for them and if they wanted more they could just serve themselves. She spared the perfectly sautéed white asparagus in an olive and white wine sauce. The minute the flavor hit her palate she groaned. “Oh my God, this is delicious!”
“I’m glad you like it.” He took a sip of his wine but he hadn’t touched his fork.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“The truth is I’m not very hungry. I had a late business lunch and I’m still a little full.”
She put the fork down and stared at him. Soulless didn’t consume human food. Some could tolerate alcohol but not food. Truth time. One way or the other, she wanted to know why he sought her out. “I know what you are.” She leaned back relaxed in her chair, her hands folded in front of her, her gazed pinned onto his.
He grinned. “Excuse me?”
“It’s okay. I know what you are.”
“I’m…I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”
“You’re going to make this hard for me aren’t you?”
He raised one perfectly aligned eyebrow. “Seriously, I’m not trying to make anything hard for you. At least not yet. What are you talking about?”
She didn’t miss his sexual innuendo, but ignored it. His control over his thoughts slipped slightly enough for her to read that his projected emotions had changed. And he had been projecting an emotion with her. A fake one, he was powerful. She sighed. “You’re soulless.”
He was no longer grinning. Instead, he stood up and stared at her. “Is this a trap?”
She put her hand out to stop him before he could move past her. “Michael wait. No. Please, sit down.”
He hesitated but returned to his seat. “I don’t understand. How—how could you know? Who are you?” This time his voice seemed to take on a note of suspicion.
“I’m not a hunter so relax.”
“What do you know about the hunters?” He folded his arms on the table and leaned toward her. “For that matter, how do you know about me and my kind?”
“Go ahead and drink your wine. I’m assuming that’s something you can do.”
He nodded, she took another sip of hers and watched as he did the same. Only then did she pick up her fork again. This time she sampled the oversized ravioli. “Oh my God! It’s stuffed with lobster. You have no idea what you’re missing,” she said stuffing herself in food flavored from heaven.
He watched her.
“I know all about the hunters and the soulless. Have you heard of the Chroniclers?”
“Yes, there’ve been a few rumors throughout the ages about women who keep written records of our lives. But it’s always been discounted.”
“Yes. Well, that’s what I do.”
“I see. So you’re one of these Chroniclers? But you’re human?”
After she nodded, he continued. “So are you studying me?”
“No. Not you specifically.” She didn’t add until recently. She’d have to find the rest of the references to him in the Chronicles and read up on him, she’d need to cross reference a few things but he was old enough he’d have a chapter or two in other volumes, along with the one of his own she’d pulled. At this point, she would only trust him so far. “Was our meeting an accident? Or were you following me?” she asked.
“No. You spilled coffee on me, remember.”
Eva chuckled. “So I did. But you have quick reflexes if you had wanted to, you could have avoided it.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe I saw this beautiful woman I wanted to meet.”
“So, Michael. What is your emotion of choice?”
She could tell her direct question caught him off guard. She knew from dealing with Thalya, directness was good in dealing with soulless beings.
He hesitated.
She took another bite of food savoring the flavor while watching as he placed his hand on his chin, seemingly contemplating the answer to her question. Interesting that he seemed to emit emotions. She wondered if he’d fed recently, or was he simply faking it as she’d initially assumed.
“I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“If it involves taking human blood, probably not.”
“Not necessarily.”
“So you do take blood?” She found the thought repugnant and unfortunately, it showed in the sound of her voice. She’d hoped he wasn’t a bloodsucker. She liked him, she really liked him, and she didn’t want Devlin to kill him, because she knew without a doubt if he turned out to be a bloodsucker, the kind that preyed on others, Devlin would.
“I’m a bit over five hundred years old, so given the violent times I’ve seen, yes I have taken blood on occasion. But it isn’t necessary for me and I don’t drain my humans.”
She was glad to hear that last part. “So what turns you on?”
“Sex.”
Her fork was halfway to her mouth when she froze. A vision flashed before her of his body, his very toned muscled, naked body towering over hers, but just as quickly the vision changed to a different body. One with short blond hair instead of long dark hair, sleeker toned muscles. She blinked. “I see.”
He leaned forward again, his arms on the tabletop. “I’m not sure that you do.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“Sex is the simple explanation. I crave it, but I’m never satisfied.”
“Do you drain your partners?”
“Oh yes, but I assure you in a pleasurable way. They leave my bed quite sated, of course once they regain enough energy to get up and walk away,” he said it without a trace or hint of modesty. Like he was reciting a fact to her.
A fact that had her reaching for her wine glass again, and taking an undignified gulp.
“But,” he continued. “For myself, I’m always only half full. No matter how many times I have sex or with how many partners. My hunger never completely abates, satisfied yes, filled no.”
“Maybe your mistake is seeking sex.”
He stilled and stared at her unblinking. “How so?”
“Perhaps you should be searching for love.”
That eyebrow rose again. “Ah, the most elusive of all emotions. There are some of my kind who seek that but when they find it, all they ever do is drain it from their partner. Whereas I just drain the lust, no real harm done. But when love is drained it can cause permanent damage to the human’s psyche.”
“While lust can be sated or drained as you put it, love can’t. Perhaps those who searched just hadn’t found the right partner. What they’d found wasn’t really love, just a masquerade of it.”
“Perhaps.” He lowered his long thick lashes in a slow blink. “Are you willing to experiment?”
Eva hesitated. This was what she wanted, for him to be truthful with her. To see if he were indeed savable. He was being very open with her, but then again he was a soulless being who hungered for emotion. Lust but perhaps ultimately love. She also knew the more powerful soulless could also encourage the emotion of choice in others; they feed off manipulation. Michael’s looks alone were enough to illicit interest in any living breathing human. And if he put his mind to seduction, as he clearly had with her, not many would be able to resist him. She was not many, even if she was attracted to him, but she believed he meant her no harm.
“Let me ask you a question. Are you aware the soulless are banished angels?” she asked.
“Yes. I’ve heard that rumor too, but that is not what we are. At least, even if it’s true, we’re not anymore. Too much time has gone by and we have no memory of it. Only what we are now. Soulless creatures.”
“What if you could change that? Be an angel again? What if you could be redeemed and regain your soul?”
He laughed and took her hand raising it to his lips as he pressed a kiss on her wrist. His lips were cool on her skin. “I’ve heard those fairy tales too, but that’s all they are. I could no more regain my soul than our waiter could fly.”
She didn’t pull her hand away, instead she twisted it to hold his and squeezed. “That’s not true. He can be on the next plane out of LA and he’d be flying to his destination. What if I told you one of your Oldens found her redemption. Her soul was returned to her.”
It was he who pulled away from her. “What bullshit is this?”
“None, Michael, I promise you.”
“It’s not true. It’s not fucking true.”
“But it is.”
“A fluke. Evolution is full of those.”
“It’s happened more than once.”
He glanced into the flame in the candle and the light reflected off the glass in the contacts in his eyes. But no real light shone from his depths. “Not for me it can’t. I’m beyond redemption, Evangeline. Unless you’re offering…” He raised his gaze to hers dissolving the lens he’d worn over his eyes. Showing her what he truly was.
She was immune to that enthrallment. Looking into the eyes of a soulless was dangerous for a human. While she was human, her family had been granted certain blessings, they were able to sense the soulless and had a certain immunity from the power of their stare.
“I’m not sure,” she said not taking her gaze from him but letting him know his tricks weren’t going to work on her. At least not this one.
He inclined his head slightly to her in acknowledgement that she couldn’t be influenced that way. Still, he reached for her hand again, but this time he just stroked one finger down the back of her hand. “Perhaps I can persuade you,” he said.
He was good, very good. No question he had allure in spades and she wasn’t sure how much of her attraction to him was his doing or her own. How much of the attraction was real or how much a result of him amplifying it? “We’ll see.”
She removed her hand from his and continued eating. She asked him questions about his past. What he could remember about his beginning. Michael was quite old, but Eva would guess he wasn’t an Olden. Oldens gave off a definite vibe, different from the others. When Eva had first met Thalya, there had been no doubt she was in the presence of an elder, an ancient soulless being more powerful than most.
Now that she knew what Michael was, her senses were more focused on him. She knew what to look for and while he was powerful, he didn’t have the kind of essence Thalya did.
Eva finished her meal and they shared a glass of Port. After he paid the check, she stood up. “I’m sorry I have to leave early. I did enjoy myself.”
He stood in front of her. Not touching her but definitely invading her personal space. He raised his hand to brush her hair away from her face. “Will I see you again, or have I scared you off?”
“I don’t scare easily. I’ll call you.” Whether he was manipulating her or not, she found herself intrigued by Michael.
As she walked through the restaurant, she didn’t have to stare into the corner at the patron who sat off to the side by himself. Not only would she know him anywhere, she’d know when he was near.
Michael followed close on her heels, and as a server tried to go around them, he casually placed his hand on her waist to guide her to the side. As they walked through the doorway, his hand remained there. They stood on the sidewalk and she handed her ticket to the valet. She turned to look up at him. “Did you drive?”
“No. I don’t drive. No need to.”
She’d been about to ask him if he’d like a lift when Devlin came outside. He stood behind and to the side of Michael.
Michael couldn’t see Devlin unless he turned around but she saw the look on Devlin’s face. There was anger there. Evident in the stiffness of his body, the way he narrowed his eyes when he glared at her.
She shifted her attention back to Michael.
Her car pulled up beside her. “Would you like a ride?” she asked Michael.
Devlin’s body became even more rigid, if that were possible.
“Thanks but no, I’ll walk. Maybe next time. At least, I hope there will be a next time.” He walked with her around to the driver’s side and helped her into her car. Kissing her hand as she got in. “Call me,” he said before he shut the door.
She hadn’t gotten very far away from the restaurant when a black Jeep got right up on her tail and stayed there all the way home. She didn’t even bother to check the rearview mirror, she already knew who was on her ass.
Michael walked back to his house, but at his speed. Very little surprised him. When he’d first found out they were banished angels, now that surprised him. As much as he could be. But never had a woman surprised him as Evangeline did. He’d made the correct call in not trying to take her by force. Her honesty was different. She was different. There was indeed something about her. Perhaps it was because she was a Chronicler. He’d been aware of the rumors that others of their kind had been able to acquire a soul. Something about finding redemption. He thought it all some kind of ploy the hunters were using. And Chris denied it, saying the Olden, Thalya, he met had no soul when he’d first seen her.
When Chris had first told him, he thought it was all bullshit. Still did. Oh, he believed Evangeline thought such a possibility existed. For some of them there was no such thing as redemption. Only the endless emptiness inside demanding it be filled. That was his life and all it could ever be. The only hope lay in the end of days. That was the only way to stop his existence, as he knew it. Abel promised them the Chronicles were the answer, and their kind would rule the world. But he didn’t exactly trust Abel either. Then again, he hadn’t been quite truthful with Evangeline either, he had killed to survive. had been unintentional but dead was dead. He’d literally fucked two of the women he’d been with in the past to death.
The key for him lay in the Chronicles and he had one of them. Abel had told him where he’d hidden it, in case he disappeared. When he did, Michael had retrieved it and tried to read it. Most of it was in a language he couldn’t read, but a few parts were written in another hand and understandable enough for him to know there was another Chronicle and they needed to be read together. But Abel wasn’t the one to tell him about the first book, in fact, Abel never meant for him to read the Chronicle. Too damn bad, but now he searched for the second writing, which he’d bet his next meal Abel hid with someone else. But Michael also now searched for the first book. The book that held all the answers.
Yes, he’d lied to Evangeline. He’d lied for so long the lies had become the truth so he’d forgotten, but she reminded him of the truth tonight. The emotion he craved wasn’t lust. Oh, that was a part of it, could sustain him, but it never quite filled him. He hadn’t lied about that.
The emotion the hollowness inside him craved most of all was love. The last time he’d tried to fill it, well it wasn’t pretty. The woman had loved him desperately, and he thought perhaps she could fill him, banish the endless hunger and need for emotion. Well she did, he’d never been so full in his existence, and he’d killed her in the process. That had been the second time. Since then he’d only fed off lust. A poor substitute but the closest he could come. He’d forgotten that, or made himself forget. Yet remembering it all tonight changed nothing.
He knew what the others of his kind thought, he didn’t have actual intercourse because he’d kill his prey and found it more entertaining to torture them with unfulfilled lust. The same way his hunger was unfulfilled. There was some truth in that. But the fact was quite simple, he hadn’t found a woman he wanted to have sex with, or a man.
Lust barely satisfied his hunger. Having sex with anyone would be pointless, and the other reason he didn’t. He truly was a creature who satisfied himself by feeding off the lust of others and their bitter disappointment. Since the last woman who’d loved him, he’d never been tempted since. However, he found Evangeline tempting, but she was not the road to redemption for him. Oh, she wasn’t completely susceptible to his spells, she was strong so perhaps for a while she could sate his hunger. Or lead them to the first book.
The most important thing he’d lied to Evangeline about was that he knew who she was, and her role as a Chronicler. It was why he first approached her, but not why he’d decided to seduce her. The men he’d sent after her the other night was more to test her and weaken her a little, so she’d be more susceptible to him. Michael did manage to find out she seemed well protected by the hunters here. He’d have to keep that in mind. One had watched them in the restaurant and followed her when she drove off. He’d sensed the man’s hatred and jealousy. Who was he, a hunter yes, but what was he to Evangeline?
He entered a somewhat empty house, none of the other soulless who were helping him search for the missing Chronicle were there. At this hour, they’d be hunting. The human was there; he hadn’t left the house for a few days. Michael smiled, he’d have no need to hunt. He followed his senses and found Chris naked on his bed. If he had a sense of humor, he would have laughed his ass off.
Chris’ lust hit him like a freight train in the gut. Michael raised his head and sniffed the air, the bouquet of lust and need for sex potent. Maybe he should just get it over with and kill the bastard, he was practically begging for it. Hell, the human would beg, and Michael didn’t even have to ask. “Have you been playing, Chris?” It was the only relief he allowed the man. None of the soulless touched him for sex. Only his lust-filled blood or his depression every time he realized Michael wasn’t going to satisfy him.
“Oh yes. I’ve been waiting for you,” Chris said. “All I have to do is think about you and I come.”
“Why the fuck are you in my bed?”
“I just wanted to lay where you lay. I want you to be able to smell me all over you when you sleep today. Unless you’ll let me sleep with you.”
Michael raised an eyebrow, Chris was getting bolder. He might just have to get rid of him sooner than he’d planned. Everyone had their limits and Chris might be reaching his. He didn’t even understand the hatred he had for Samuel. Michael had taken Chris’ blood and read his thoughts, he knew Samuel and Chris were once best friends. But Chris craved Samuel and Samuel hadn’t a clue, the man both loved and hated the man. Humans were idiots.
“Get the fuck out of my bed,” Michael said. “And stay the fuck outta my room.”
“Please master, I don’t want anyone else, just you.” Chris’ voice had taken on a pleading quality, wobbling on the last word. Like he’d cry at any minute.
Michael reveled in the man’s lust and pain from his abject disappointment, as well as his mental decline. He drank it up like a thirsty man would a pitcher of water. And the more he drew from Chris the harder the man cried.
Chris rolled to his side and curled into a ball.
“Thank you, Chris,” Michael said coming over to him and patting his head. “Now I need you to get cleaned up and dressed then put on clean sheets so I don’t have to smell you. There’s work still to be done tonight.” When Chris tried to grab his hand, he pulled back. He really didn’t like to be touched, especially by this piece of shit.
He turned around, walked back into the living room area, and sat in the most comfortable chair in the room. Now if Evangeline would greet him naked in his bed and try to touch him, there’d be no stopping him. Hell, if she’d greeted him like that he wouldn’t be walking away.
What was he thinking? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t his redemption. If she had been, Chris’ lust wouldn’t have sated him the way it did. There was no redemption for him. His only choice was to stick to the plan Abel had come up with to free them all from their hell on earth, or as close to it as possible. There was only one way to end the hunger, he had to find that damn missing Chronicle or Abel, and Evangeline was the key. And yet…