Lucien shrugged. "The old taking of powers thing? Sort of goes with the job. But no control, no immortality, no wings." He ruffled his feathers once and then let his wings fade from reality. Offering Rogue his arm, he continued, "Although I'm afraid bat wings are more traditional for your sort. I don't know if I could do feathers. Of course, no curse, but the no control thing has got to be a nuisance, judging by your reaction when I touched you. Like to go for a walk on the beach and talk about it, or should we head for the prison?"
"Why not?" His smile had a wry twist. "In the end, there will be a big battle between, well, heaven and hell, to use the common terms. On either side will be all the souls gathered over the ages. That requires a choice, a contract, whatever you want to call it. These zombies?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at what was left of the scattered dustpiles. "Not evil. Just infected. No new souls, no new choices."
He grinned. "Not to say that there aren't some in the neighborhood who do souls, both sides. Different department, though. I'm mostly a scout and observer lately. Also not to say I can't do a little temptation if the mood is right. Care to be tempted a little?"