Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
St. Louis Cemetery at twilight in 1905, where Delia had convinced him to visit for what she called “atmospheric research” for her theater work. She moved between marble tombs with the curiosity of someone who found beauty in unexpected places, her simple white dress catching the last golden light.
“It’s peaceful here,” she said, settling on a stone bench worn smooth by decades of mourners. “Not frightening like people expect. More like . . . like the city’s memory made visible.”
“An interesting way to describe it.”
“I suppose that’s the theater in me. Always looking for stories in stone and shadow.” She smiled, patting the bench beside her. “Sit with me. We so rarely have quiet moments together.”
The warmth of her shoulder against his, the unconscious melody she hummed while watching evening settle over the tombs—simple contentment that made even a cemetery feel like sanctuary. When she turned to face him, her eyes held nothing but trust and growing affection.
“Sometimes I think you carry too much worry,” she said, fingers brushing the line between his brows. “As if you’re protecting everyone from sorrows they don’t even know exist.”
“Perhaps I just care deeply about keeping beautiful things safe.”
Her laughter was soft as evening air. “Then you must be very tired, carrying such responsibility.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to whisper. “But you don’t have to protect me from everything, you know. Some burdens are easier when shared.”
The kiss that followed tasted like jasmine perfume and trust freely given, like love that asked no questions because it needed no explanations.
“The modern incarnation shows signs of awakening,” the Collector observed, its attention following his thoughts with disturbing precision. “But awakening without guidance channels power through corrupted infrastructure.”
“What would proper guidance accomplish?”
“Restoration of defensive arrays to full effectiveness. Conscious choice to sacrifice individual evolution for collective protection.” The entity’s form became more substantial as it focused on specific outcomes. “She could save thousands from harvesting. Or pursue transcendence that places her beyond our authority entirely.”
The choice was elegant in its cruelty. Delphine could learn to maintain protections that would defend New Orleans—but only by accepting limitations that prevented her own transformation beyond human existence. Or she could seek the evolution Charlotte had originally pursued, gaining power to challenge these entities but leaving the city defenseless.
“No middle path?”
“Evolution or protection. Never both simultaneously.” The Collector began withdrawing, form dissolving like smoke in wind. “Dawn approaches. Choose wisely—some decisions echo across eternity.”
The cemetery fell silent except for distant Quarter nightlife and Spanish moss rustling with voices that spoke in languages older than French. But the oppressive weight remained, invisible pressure that made breathing difficult.
“How much of that was truth?” Bastien asked.
“All of it, unfortunately. Charlotte’s protections really do need bloodline maintenance. Without conscious reinforcement, they’ll collapse within days.” Maman moved among marked headstones, studying symbols that pulsed with fading light. “But there’s something else. Something that thing didn’t mention because it represents their worst fear.”
“Which is?”
“The possibility that Charlotte designed her arrays to do more than defend New Orleans. That she embedded protocols allowing evolution and protection simultaneously.” Her eyes blazed with recognition that could change everything. “What if she found a way to transcend the limitation they insist is absolute?”
“Both individual transformation and collective defense?”
“Or evolution made infectious—consciousness enhancement spreading through protective networks rather than harvesting systems.” Her voice dropped to urgent whisper. “What if Charlotte wasn’t just preserving her connection to you? What if she was engineering species-wide elevation?”
Individual consciousness upgrading as a species rather than harvesting individual souls. Evolution through voluntary networking rather than hierarchical authority.
“That explains their desperation to corrupt her work.”
“And why they’re forcing a choice between evolution and protection. If Delphine discovers Charlotte’s real design, if she activates enhancement networks instead of defensive arrays . . .”
“She could trigger voluntary transcendence for everyone connected to the bloodline system. Free choice instead of systematic harvesting.”
Maman knelt beside the scorched symbol, her hands hovering over burn marks that still radiated faint heat. “There's something else here. A spirit echo trace embedded in the protective patterns.”
“What kind of trace?”
“Instructions. Not just for maintaining the defensive arrays, but for . . .” She paused, studying markings that seemed to shift when observed peripherally. “For completing what she started. Charlotte left a manual for transformation that preserves both individual evolution and collective protection.”
The revelation changed everything. Charlotte's death hadn't been failure—it had been preparation. She'd embedded complete instructions for transcending the false choice these entities insisted was absolute.
“Where are the complete instructions?”
“Scattered throughout the cemetery's defensive network. Each symbol contains part of the sequence but reading them requires . . .” Maman's expression grew troubled. “It requires someone with both Lacroix bloodline power and fallen angel essence. The same combination that killed Charlotte when she attempted the work originally.”
“The same combination Delphine and I represent.”
“But with two and a half centuries of additional knowledge about soul-binding mechanics. About defensive ritual work that can be adapted for evolutionary purposes.” Hope entered her voice for the first time since Vincent's abduction. “She designed this knowing you'd both return, knowing you'd have learned enough to complete what she started safely.”