The Orphan Collector Novels & Stories

Aldren closed his eyes. When he opened them again, all warmth had vanished. "They've sent the Collectors." Nobody spoke. Because somehow... Even without knowing what a Collector was... Every instinct told me the same thing. If they had come for Blackthorn... They had come for me.

"A Thorne never accepts the first bid. And a Scavenger never pays for what he can take by force." "You have no force, Leo," the Collector hissed, the black lightning on his cane intensifying. "You have a warehouse full of starving refugees and a wife who is half-static. You are a liquidated stock." "I have the System-Key," Leo countered. The Collector froze. The red lights of the debt-collector droids flickered.

End this nightmare permanently. I looked at Damien. At Sarah. At Hope. At the choice that was not a choice. Work for a monster or die as a family. "Ten seconds," the Debt Collector said. "Then I decide for you." Sarah's thumb hovered over the button. Damien raised his gun again. Hope cried in my arms. And somewhere upstairs, something else moved. Something that made even the Debt Collector's creatures flinch. A voice echoed down the stairs. Female. Familiar. Impossible.

she demanded. I nodded. "Dante was manipulated by someone he called the Collector ..." I hesitated, looking at Zander. His eyebrows were pinched together, his gaze a little vacant. "Who is this Collector?" asked Luke. "That's what he's called because he collects idimmu with special gifts," said Ruthie. "He's Zander's dad's alter ego. You know, head of the Nasaru by day, villain by night. Kidnapping supernaturals and experimenting on them ..." Ruthie finally saw my look of desperation.

The black ink from the Moonstone had traveled up my wrist, mapping my veins in dark, bruised lines that reached all the way to my shoulder. "You look terrible, child," Nazim said. He dipped a finger into the bowl of scarlet feathers and began to stir. The sound was like dry husks grinding together. "The Orphan gift is a parasite. It doesn't use your energy. It uses your history. Every time you flare that red light, you lose a piece of who you were." "Shut up," I rasped. My voice sounded deeper, edged with a growl that wasn't mine.

It was a digital copy of a private investigator file, compiled by a man named Marcus Vance, a fixer hired by Fenrir Vane’s wealthy family. There were attached photos, taken through the pouring rain just minutes ago outside our building. The first set showed my pale face looking out the window of the private team car. The second captured the exact moment Orion’s massive body frame guided me into the private elevator, his hand gripping my hip with a heavy, possessive force that looked entirely unnatural for a captain protecting a normal Beta teammate. I scrolled down, my hands shaking so hard I almost dropped the phone. Beneath the photos were old, yellowed papers stamped with the official sea

The collector smiled. "You misunderstand." His eyes gleamed. "There were hundreds once." Drift crossed his arms. "So?" "This is the last one." The room went quiet. Even Drift understood that. Not because it was sacred. Because it was rare. The collector smiled again. That same awful smile. The smile of a man collecting pieces of something dying. Like mounting heads on a wall. Nero hated him instantly. The ride home was quiet for a long time. Drift broke first. "Still got paid."

“It’s so good to see you again, my dear.” I growled. I knew that voice. My heart hammered in my chest and I strained against the chains. That voice belonged to ex-High Councilor Oran. We had found out his involvement with the BloodHunter Coven after we had eradicated the coven. It turns out, he had his hand in a lot of bloody things. He was an elder and as such, Oran was on the top of my list to kill.

] [STATUS: HARVEST OPTIMAL. A massive, bone-white claw reached down from the Collector vessel, hooking into the zenith of the dome with a sound like a world being buried alive.

As Cali went out of the office, her phone chimed in her purse. She took it out to find out that Horace was calling her. He was also an orphan and they both lived in the same orphanage. An involuntary smile spread across her lips. And she picked up his call almost immediately. She forgot about all her troubles and pain in her life for a moment. It was always like this when it was him. He was like a loving brother that she never had.