The Soul Collector Book Novels & Stories

Who was I kidding? Running wasn't an option either. No one runs from the Russian Bratva. If it were possible, a lot of people would have succeeded. But no one can run from the Bravta and no one can run from the collector. He was a hound dog. I've been cautious enough to know that's it's a useless act and those who did never lived to tell the tale. The sound of my heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears and I managed to find my voice. “Yes. You're the collector.” My stomach tightens as the chair creaks under his weight and my response. “You’re here to collect… my debt.”

It said, "Winter Brooke, last stage stomach cancer." Winter Brooke… Last stage stomach cancer… I felt as though something massive had just struck me in the head. As Colette screamed at the grunting boys to stop fighting, I was suddenly transported back to that day when both my parents jumped off a building to end their lives after going broke. Then, Colette came over to my house with Finnegan's elder brother, Joachim Churchill, and poured boiling water down my throat. She wanted me to lose my voice forever. That way, she could replace me and tell Finnegan that she had been the one who had been painstakingly taking care of him for the past three years.

One of them was being unemotional and he couldn't care less if it made him someone with a heart of stone. But the self-betrayal of the nine-month time span displayed the result on him. He broke his own theory of living and his traitor mind caused him to hope, wish, and anticipate. He became numb when nine month's desires, aspirations, and expectations were crushed in just one event. His face was still hard and stoic but inside he was breaking. The impact of the big loss hit him like the fiery breath of a dragon. His heart was shattering in the tiniest pieces.

They both looked at each other with pure fear. The serpents then jumped from the water and began their poisonous attack. They went right for their eyes, taking out their sight. The elevator was filled with their horrified screams. I leaned back against the wall as I watched the scene unfold before me. The elevator finally stopped and the water was gone as I snapped my fingers again. The doors opened and the collector came in for the souls I had brought down. The men were barely alive but that didn't last long. Once the collector had their souls they were gone completely.

- I say venomously. "You shouldn't... trust... blindly..." - her eyes are dilated now, and I've had enough. Releasing her, she falls on her chair. She puts her hand on her neck, coughing violently. I sigh, it is just a waste of time. I turn towards the door and with quick steps I walk through the room. My hand is on the handle when her voice stops me. "Her twin soul will do anything to destroy you. Find the reason and a solution for it before the Blood Master comes for you!" - I turn sharply, looking into her opal eyes.

"I was looking for a necklace I saw in my tribal college book. Years ago, I discovered a similar necklace in my mother's jewelry box. I came earlier to look through her belongings in the storage unit but couldn't find the necklace. I believe it may be the answer to your soul's purpose. I wanted all the facts before coming to you because I knew you'd grill me." “See, we are related.” I laughed, trying to eliminate the tension between us. She forced a weak smile onto her pale face. "Did you bring the book? And this necklace you're referring to doesn't happen to be gold with a key attached, does it?" I wasn't sure if I was prepared to hear the response. "The strangest thing happened, I made sur

Hazel looked like she was going to fall sick. "What's wrong?" I asked, fear building within me. Hazel's eyes flickered to meet mine. "Isabella isn't a generic witch. " Hazel hesitated, her expression turning serious. "Isabella isn't a generic witch. She's a soul collector, and her powers are far darker than any of us imagined." Aubrey and I exchanged startled glances, realising the magnitude of the revelation. "Soul collector?" I echoed, my voice barely a whisper.

"That wouldn't bode well...." "Have you ever heard of soul collectors? They'll reap ships much like this one. A whole mountain of souls then bring people here and kill them just as they killed the people on the ship. We better be extremely careful because ships like this is a whole hoard of lost souls." I teased, scaring him. He shivered and clung to me, wrapping his arms around one of mine and leaned his head against my shoulder, looking around. "Like Emile? Except employed?" He asked me, sounding nervous.

"Now that you have surrendered your soul to me, I'm going to make you the Djinn. I have a high expectations of you, so do not disappoint me!" Just like that with a snap of his fingers, all of the pain surprisingly disappeared including all of my senses and emotions. No pain, no feelings, no mercy or remorse. I became his ruthless soul collector, and I've been serving him for as long as I can remember, collecting poor miserable souls, all of them needing souls looking for salvation and hope, greedy souls who wanted more than they've already had, and souls who only want attention and love. I gave them temporary happiness and pleasure in exchange for eternal damnation. End of flashback...

"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.