The Collector (25 page)

Chapter Forty-nine

I Quit

Valery, Max, and I drive around Peachville. The music is off in my car, and now there are three heads hanging out the windows instead of two.

“You’d think,” Max says, “that between heaven and hell, we’d be more helpful than a pack of German shepherds.”

“My boss doesn’t want us having too much power after what happened with your boss.” She says
your boss
like it’s an insult, but Max only nods.

“Does anybody sense anything yet?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah,” Valery says. “I did a few miles back but decided not to mention it.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter. Apparently just because we’re working together doesn’t mean she’s going to cut me any slack. As much as I’d like to, I can’t manage a comeback because I’m struggling with the feeling that we’re being followed. It’s not a sensation that my cuff delivers. This is different, like someone is staring at me from across the room and I just now noticed.

Pulling the car over and onto the shoulder, I ask, “Sure no one feels anything?”

“Why?” Valery asks, her mocking tone gone. “Do you?”

“I feel like we’re being followed.” I turn around to look behind us but don’t see anything.

“How in the world do you feel that?” she asks, also turning around.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

She falls back in her seat. “Just keep driving. We’re wasting time.”

I press my lips together and pull back onto the road. We’ve already explored the heart of the town, and Valery assured us she checked the major retail locations. The only thing left to do is circle the perimeter, where the lights are limited, and the trees are thick. In other words, total axe murderer territory.

As I’m driving down a long and narrow dirt road, surrounded on both sides by a dense forest, Max asks, “Does anybody—”

“Yes,” Valery says, clipped.

Hearing their suspicion, and feeling my own, I shiver from a wave of anxiety. I drive farther down the road while Max and Valery become restless. We’re getting closer. Remembering I want an element of surprise, I pull Elizabeth Taylor over and throw her into park.

“What are you doing?” Valery hisses. “Keep driving.”

“No. I’m going to sneak up on them,” I say. Then, knowing they’ll wonder what I mean, I add, “I can be quieter than the two of you.” I glance back and forth between Max and Valery. “Remember the plan. When I find Charlie, I’m going to tell her to run, and I need you guys to be here when she does. I can handle the collector. Don’t wait for me, just start driving.”

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind on this,” Max says.

But Valery nods. She looks at me like a human being just sprang up where a swine once sat.

“Hey.” Max waves a hand between our faces. “Why is everyone ignoring me? We’re not really leaving Dante.”

I turn in my seat and face him. “Max, I need you here. You have to trust me. Take care of Charlie when she gets here. And take care of your fiancée. I’ll find the three of you. I promise.” I know I’m lying again, but at least now my lies help protect the ones I care about, rather than serving selfish desires.

Grabbing Max’s shoulder, I squeeze. “You’re my best friend.”

He pulls back. “Screw you, man. Don’t be a freaking martyr.”

I slide out of the car and glance once more at Valery. She smiles, but it’s mixed with pain. She thinks the collector may overtake me, that I’ll be dragged back to hell for sentencing. But I know it’ll never get that far.

I’m about to close the door when Max says, “Hey.”

I tilt my head so I can see him in the backseat.

He looks at me for a long time, then smiles. “Bring the thunder.”

I close my fist and raise it. He bumps it with his, and we both say, “Pow!”

The door clicks shut beneath my hand, and I turn and face the forest—and the final hours of my life—alone.

After only a few seconds of walking, I turn around. Already, I can’t see the road or my candy apple-red Escalade. Goose bumps rise on my arms. It’s now or never. The collector I’m searching for most likely already knows there’s another of his kind nearby. Because if we can sense him, he can sense us. I glance around, then drop down onto the ground. Pulling up my jeans, I inspect the cuff. The collector won’t notice I’ve removed it. He’ll just assume I’ve moved from where I stand now to where Valery and Max are. It’s why I needed Valery with me. That, and she had to be here to get Charlie to safety.

Fingering my cuff, I know this won’t be too difficult. Our cuffs are strong but can easily be broken if the will is there. I search the ground for a rock and find one. My pulse quickens, and my mind spins. This is my life. This is it. I stare at my cuff, at the rock cold in my hands. If I do this, there’s no going back. I won’t be able to protect her once I’m gone. I swallow hard, thinking of that word.
Gone.

Maybe I was never meant to protect Charlie. Maybe Valery was always the best person for the job; she has Big Guy to back her up, to help her hide his precious cargo. Maybe keeping Charlie safe was never my destiny.

Maybe dying for her was.

A cracking sound splinters the night. I raise my arm and hit the cuff again. And again. And again. The noise is earsplitting as stone meets metal. I try not to hurt my ankle in the process, but at this point I don’t really care.

A fracture forms in my cuff, and I laugh out loud. I hit the metal three more times, and the cuff breaks apart and falls to the earth. I jump up and toss the rock over my shoulder. Then I raise my middle fingers and point them toward the ground, hoping Boss Man sees me real good right now, and scream inside my head,
I quit asshole! Pow!

I smile big and wide like Charlie would. My breath comes strong, and I feel like I could take on the entire world.

My hours may be numbered, but damn it, I’m going to live them
free
.

Chapter Fifty

Guess Who?

I stare at my newly exposed ankle. Part of me can’t believe what I just did, but it’s too late to dwell. My time is limited, and if I don’t rescue Charlie from the collector, I’ll have died again in vain.

The guy I’m tracking should here should be here soon, drawn by the noise. I retrieve the broken dargon, move behind a tree on the other side of the small clearing, and wait. Sure enough, after only a few moments, I hear the sound of leaves rustling. I can’t sense him coming, but I know he’s there. Even if he is sporting his shadow.

I’ve never fought one of my own before, and the thought that I will makes my forehead prick with sweat. In my head, I flip through the alternatives. There are six of us. Max and I make up two of those, which leaves only four people it could be. Each has his own strengths and weaknesses, but since I’ve had a hand in all the collectors’ continued training, it should be easy to predict their actions.

Still, this knowledge does little to calm the nerves pulsing through my body as the footsteps grow closer. I feel like a gas leak waiting to detonate—like if someone lit a cigarette on the other side of Peachville, I’d explode into a billion pieces. It’s a wonderful thought as I’m stalking a demon in the middle of a dark forest.

I still as the leaves stop crunching and hold my breath. After what feels like an eternity, I see the ground rustle. Footprints. He’s so close, I see his footprints in the dirt. And now they’re leading away. I wait for as long as I can and then follow him. Right about now, I’d love to utilize my own shadow, but I kissed that ability good-bye when I broke off my cuff. Instead, I walk lightly and just keep moving.

Then I hear her.

Charlie sobs, and it takes everything I have not to race forward. Listening, I notice the sound of her voice is muffled, like something is stuffed in her mouth. I continue taking soft steps, ensuring I’ve stayed behind the collector in front of me. Every few seconds, I glance around. I’m still not sure there’s only one collector out here, and I don’t want to be surprised. When finally I see Charlie, I freeze.

Her back is to me, and her arms are tied behind a tree. She’s still wearing her red dress, but her costume angel wings are missing. Everything in me wants to run to her, to untie her hands and scoop her into my arms. Fury that I can’t burns through my veins.

I inch closer, removing the gun from my waistband. Not knowing who’s done this to her is driving me crazy. I need to see his face, need to know who I’ll destroy tonight. And then I do.

One of my collectors—Kincaid—shrugs off his shadow and glances around. He still thinks he heard something.

That was me, asshole. And I’m watching you. Right. Now.

Kincaid is the newest collector. Younger than me and one I trained only a few months ago. Out of all the collectors, he’d be the most naïve, the one most likely to try a stunt like this. I can just picture him thinking how easy it’d be to trump me as I taught him how to seal a soul. I bet the second he heard about my assignment, he drooled all over himself. He just knew I’d screw this up, and he’d be there waiting when it happened.

Cocky bastard.

He doesn’t know who he’s messing with.

I prepare myself to lunge toward him but stop when I see a glint of chrome tucked between his belt and dark jeans. No matter. I’m still taking this guy out; it’s just going to take the right moment.

Kincaid finally decides there’s no one watching and crouches down next to Charlie. He pulls the rag out of her mouth and quickly replaces it with his hand. “I know you want to scream, pumpkin,” he coos. “And I’m going to let you. Know why?” He pauses as if giving Charlie time to think. “Because if your boyfriend is out there lurking, he’ll come running when he hears that scream of yours. And that’s exactly what I want.”

Kincaid is kind of squatting so that I can see his profile. I just need him to turn a bit more toward Charlie and away from me. That’s all I need. One moment of surprise to attack. He slowly uncurls his fingers from Charlie’s mouth.

He stands up. “Go ahead,” he says. “Scream.”

But Charlie doesn’t. Her eyes are locked on him, and her jaw is clenched.

Kincaid bends down again. “You think you’re saving him? You’re not. Even if he doesn’t come here tonight, I’ll find him. And I’ll kill him. Just me.” He smiles and rubs a hand along his jaw. “See, Dante? He thinks he’s hot shit. But one on one, there’s no way I won’t come out on top.”

The last statement tells me everything. He’s here alone. He’s that sure of his ability to wreck me and my assignment. But what else does he know? Does he know about Trelvator? And if he gets through me, will he try to collect Charlie’s soul? Even worse, would he
kill
her?

Kincaid pulls his leg back and kicks Charlie hard in the ribs. “I said
scream
!”

Kincaid probably has plans to hide now that she’s cried out, to wait and see if I close in. But that’s not going to happen because I’m already here. I consider capping his ass now, but he’s too close to Charlie. Too close. Rage floods my body—

And I run.

I run hard and fast, moving like I never have before. I’m an animal racing toward him—all legs and lungs and muscle. Hearing Charlie scream in pain messes with my head, flips a switch that removes all rational thought. As I close in on Kincaid, it feels like I’m not even inside my own body, like I’m controlling my movements with a joystick in a video game.

Kincaid turns to see me, but I leap before he can react. My body pummels into his, and we land hard on the ground. The gun flies from my hand, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got this. I pull my fist back and smash it into his nose. He hollers and fumbles for his own gun. I grab his shoulders and shove him back down, landing another shot to his kidney.

Somehow he gets out from underneath me and jumps to his feet. We circle each other like beasts, like demons. Kincaid fakes like he’s going to charge to my right, then turns and slams into my left. We fall to the ground again, and again I pound my fists into his face. And his stomach. And his shoulder. And because I suddenly remember how he kicked Charlie like a dog, I rear back and send a blow crashing into his ribs. He groans but doesn’t stop fighting.

Kincaid’s hands fly up, and he wraps them around my throat. It’s a good move, because I have no choice but to stop hitting him and start defending myself instead. I grab onto his wrists and yank as hard as I can, but he’s determined to choke the life out of me. My lungs burn, and I feel like if I don’t get air immediately, I’m going to black out. I can’t fathom how this has happened. How even though I’m on top, he’s somehow winning this fight. My vision blurs, and I steal a glance at Charlie. She’s yelling something, but I can’t make out what it is, because all I’m thinking is,
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!

I yank myself onto my feet, trying to tear Kincaid’s hands from my throat. But he mirrors my movements like a freaking anaconda. I finally stand upright just to have my knees start to buckle beneath me.
I just have to get his hands off my throat,
I think.
Get them off!

And then, even though my thoughts are starting to slide together in a tangled mess, I realize something. I have a choice. Being choked makes me think that the only thing I can do is play defense. It’s a false assumption.

I let go of his wrists, and throw everything I have—every available knee, elbow, and fist—into his groin. He curls in on himself and groans. Yanking him onto his side, I grab the gun from his pants and point it toward his chest.

Kincaid tries to speak, but his words are too soft, and I can’t hear him. What I can hear is Charlie screaming my name. I realize she’s been yelling this entire time, and I never heard it. Keeping Kincaid’s gun aimed on him, I run toward Charlie. As I start to untie her, I hear Kincaid mumble something over and over.

The second Charlie is free, she dives into my arms. “You’re okay,” I tell her. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. I’m not ever going to let anything bad happen to you again.” Charlie doesn’t say anything back. She just presses into me, and I wrap myself around her. “You’re hurt?” I ask.

She shakes her head against me, and I rub my free hand over her hair. Then I look back at Kincaid. I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do with him. Break off his cuff? Put a bullet in him so we have time to flee? I know I can’t leave him here to follow us, but I don’t want to make a rash decision. I’ve got to calculate my every move with what time I have left, give Valery the best chance to get Charlie hidden.

Kincaid crawls like a beetle across the ground, watching us. He repeats himself but grows louder.

“You got something to say?” I bark, standing and pulling Charlie up with me. “Go ahead,” I yell, fueled by adrenaline. “You’re done now. One way or another, you’re dead. So go ahead. Want to say something? Say it!”

He smiles at me, his teeth laced with blood. “I
said
.” He licks his lips and fills his lungs like he’s going to scream. “He’s here! He’s over here!”

My head snaps up, searching for who he’s calling. When he calls again, I raise my gun in his direction. “Stop it. Stop yelling.” I contemplate pulling the trigger, but now I’m afraid I might need the six rounds this gun holds. Searching the ground, I find my Glock and grab that, too. Twelve rounds. Now I may have one to spare for this jerk.

“Dante, look,” Charlie yells.

Kincaid turns and glances behind him. When he faces me again, he’s pulling himself off the ground. “Did you think it was only me?” He laughs, then coughs. My finger twitches over the trigger. “You did, right? Man, how stupid do you think I am? I was just the bait, baby.”

I step in front of Charlie when I see the final three collectors—Patrick, Zack, and Anthony—coming up behind us. Zack and Patrick are hanging back, but Anthony is pointing a gun at Max and Valery. My two comrades are walking in front of Anthony’s enormous frame like two inmates. As Max comes closer, I notice a gash across his cheek, probably received from fighting to keep them from taking Valery.

My blood runs cold as I reach my hand behind me and feel for Charlie. This isn’t good.

Kincaid nods toward Anthony but speaks to me. “You can take those guns off me now,” he says. “Unless you want us to blow holes in your friends.”

“I’ll kill him,” I tell Anthony, stabbing the gun in my right hand in Kincaid’s direction. But I already know what he’ll say.

Anthony shrugs as if he’s read my mind. “Then do it.”

Kincaid bows. “I’m the sacrificial lamb if need be,” he says, standing upright again. “But it’s cool. You won’t kill me. We’re immortal, dickhead. But the second you pull that trigger, Anthony will pull his.” He wipes blood from beneath his nose. “Drop the guns and kick them over here, or we’ll kill the girls.”

I know they must be bluffing. They can’t know Valery is a liberator, not with so many other cuffs in the vicinity, and they wouldn’t chance killing a human. And I’m not certain they’ll hurt Charlie, either. At least not without collecting her soul first. Still, I can’t take the risk. So I do what he asks.
I’ll get another chance to get everyone out of here
, I tell myself.

“Great, we’re all here,” I say as Kincaid picks up one gun and puts it in his waistband, then grabs the other and aims it in my direction. “So what’s the plan?” I continue. “You’ve been following me for days. So what the hell do you want?”

“I wasn’t following you,” Kincaid spits. “Why would I ever follow you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “But I sensed you.” I glance across the four of them. “Or one of you, at least.”

“I already told you, pretty boy. It wasn’t me.” He glances at the other three collectors. “Was it you guys?”

The three jackasses shake their heads and sneer like villains in a cowboy movie.

Kincaid turns back to me. “You know, come to think of it, I might know someone who was following you.”

The collectors laugh and move back as if something big is coming. I narrow my eyes, gazing deep into the forest over their shoulders—and gasp when I see who steps out of the shadows.

A man walks toward us, head held high and shoulders squared. His dark hair is buzzed short to his scalp, and his clothes are crisp and clean. Every movement he makes, every tilt of his head, screams military.

“You!” I race toward the man, but Kincaid leaps in front of me and pistol-whips me across the face. Blinding pain shoots through my body as Charlie cries out. My vision blurs, but when I glance up from the ground, he’s still there.

My mother’s boyfriend.