Romans & histoires The Collector

They take everything. This is one of those debts.

She had no weapon but her hands, and the knowledge that Dante was now, impossibly, the only weapon she needed. The upstairs was a single, cluttered office. Through the cracked door, she saw Pete a gaunt man in a stained tracksuit pacing before a heavyset man in a leather jacket. The bookie. Not the killer. A collector. “The girl’s dead, Pete,” the collector growled. “Your debt isn’t. You said you had information to sell. So sell it.” “I need a guarantee! Protection!” “You get cash. That’s the guarantee.” Dante stepped into the doorway. “He’ll take a different deal.”

Thorgan was simple, loyal, and harmless in a strange way. "You will be rewarded." "Well, okay then." Hearing he would not have to fight, Thorgan visibly relaxed. "As long as I'm not throwing punches, we're good." Still on the call, Cyrus walked into a second-floor collectibles room. The room had belonged to Severin. The space covered more than 800 square feet and held rare figures everywhere. Many were limited to ten sets worldwide. Some had been discontinued for years. Cyrus casually picked up a pure gold Saint Goldstar figurine, snapped a photo, and sent it over. "Help me handle this properly and I'll give you the complete Zodiac set, all in solid gold."

Nyra looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “The one who paid for you at the auction wasn’t the real end buyer.” The blood drained from Violetta’s face. “What?” Nyra crossed her arms. “You were a special request.” “No…” Violetta breathed, stepping back. “Yes.” “Who?” Nyra’s expression turned grim. “The city doesn’t know his real name. Only his title.” Violetta’s heart slammed against her ribs. Nyra’s voice dropped. “The Collector.” Silence. Cold, thick, dreadful silence.

"I'm not telling you anything." "Wrong answer." Elara pressed her thumb into one of his wounds and he screamed. "Try again. Who's paying you?" I should have been disturbed by her casual brutality. Instead, I was grudgingly impressed. She'd learned to do what was necessary, no hesitation. "I don't know his name!" The rogue gasped. "We just call him the Collector. He pays good money for destabilizing packs. Especially ones with connections to True Alphas." "The Collector." Elara's eyes met mine. "What does he want with True Alphas?"

he replied. I shrugged in thought. “I know so little about them. It never clicked with me.” He moved to the bed and sat down on its edge. “The soul collectors pursue human wrong doers and harvest their souls to take back to the devil when the human has died. It is rare that they take a human alive. Usually it is because that human is on the brink of death. You are neither evil nor on the brink of death, so why were you taken?”

He didn't want anyone to get closer to her. 'Fooling ourselves are we.' The voice inside his head mused and his jaw clenched in frustration. It didn't matter. Yes, he was mad but it wasn't jealousy. Hunter Colt could never be jealous. He didn't want her to get close to his friends or family, simple as that. So what if he was interested in her for a wee bit? It was nothing more than that. He admits that she was a gorgeous little witch who loves to press his buttons and he was a man after all.

And suddenly, I understand why the Collector really wants me. I'm not just a weapon. I'm the weapon.

Made coffee. When he came back, his face was different. Softer. "What did you decide?" I asked. "I'm going to do it." "Really?" "Really. The collector is coming to Detroit next month. We're going to meet." "That's amazing." "It's terrifying." "Same thing." "It's not." "It is." The next few weeks were busy. Jay painted. I trained. The collector's name was Simone. French. Elegant. She had gray hair and sharp eyes. She wore expensive coats and spoke softly.

"It's guarded by one of the Old Court's strongest members. A being that calls itself the Collector. It gathers souls like humans collect art." "Then we visit the Collector," I said. My voice was steady despite the fear churning in my stomach. "And we show it what it's like to be collected." Through the bloodline, I felt my assembled team. Felt their determination. Their fear. Their desperate hope. And through the bond, I felt Caspian. Felt his love. His certainty that somehow, we'd find a way. But I also felt something else. Through the Truthsight, through the bloodline, through every sense I'd developed.