He arches one of his blond eyebrows. “Think you can do the whole room yourself?”
I turn away from him. There’s a sea of donor faces watching us. More have filed in since we started. There’s at least twenty now. I swallow.
When I turn back to him, my face is as expressionless as Nico’s. “It may take a while.”
Valac smirks and waves me on to the next donor.
I pray there are no more children in the line.
The Pacific Coast Highway winds like a snake, flirting alternately with the beach and the seaside cliffs as we head toward Malibu. The drive from the city was a blur of crowded freeways and hazy afternoon sun. Here, the ocean breeze wipes the smog away, leaving a seascape that glitters like cut glass. I shy away from the window, eyes slitted to keep out the excessive light. We’ve been in the car over an hour, but the buzz from the casino collection still rages through my body. At this rate, I could be high for days… or at least until I pay out. I don’t even know how much I have to give. I lost track of the number of years I had collected about halfway through the room.
Years.
I should be dead. That much collection should have me so high my heart would spasm out of my chest, but Ophelia’s slow drain method kept it from killing me. The buzz still enervates every cell in my body. Being trapped in the car for an hour means my shaky legs don’t have to hold me up, but it’s hard to hide the effects from Valac.
He keeps stealing glances at me. Which I ignore.
Ophelia curls up at my side, in the middle, between us again. I’m sure she can feel me quiver through her hand on my thigh. Or the other one playing idly with the hair at the back of my neck. I’m allowing it, slowly warming to her again. Thinking how I can convince her to escape with me when the time comes. Wondering if I should even try. But our time at the casino showed how much I can learn from her. If we were out of Kolek’s mob, things could be good. Really good.
Or that could just be the buzz talking.
Ophelia’s high, too, having mopped up the late customers after I’d already collected most of the room. Her touches are pleasantly distracting, but my biggest concern right now is the payout.
“How much longer?” I lean forward slightly, peering around Ophelia so Valac will know I’m talking to him.
“We’re almost there.”
“How much will the payout be?” It’s a reasonable question. And I need to prepare myself. I seriously doubt I’ll be able to pay out all the life energy that took me nearly two hours to collect. I can’t even contemplate the level of gut-wrenching, soul-sucking misery that would entail.
Valac looks like he’s still deciding how much to tell me.
“C’mon,” I say. “We’re going to be there soon. I just want to know how much fun I have to look forward to.”
“Ophelia’s going to do most of the payout.”
“Ophelia?” I protest, even though I’m actually relieved. “I did most of the collecting. Why is she paying out?”
Ophelia cuddles in a little closer, something that helps to soothe my keyed up state. “It’s okay, baby. I can handle it.”
I’m sure she can, but the point is I need to show Valac—and Kolek—that I can, too.
Valac leans back in his seat and stares out the window. “She has plenty in reserve. Besides, Mr. Mayer will enjoy her company more than yours.”
Well, I don’t have much argument against that. “So just one person for the payout? What is he? A billionaire who wants to live a couple of years longer? Or is he just out for the hit?”
“You have a lot of questions.”
“Just trying to understand how this all works,” I say, carefully. “Want to make sure I’m doing my part.”
That pulls Valac away from the sun-drenched beaches that peek from between the bungalow style houses of the rich and high potential. He studies me for a moment. “You’ll have your chance to prove yourself, little bird. And you’ll pay out to Mr. Mayer as well. I want Ophelia to show you how to control it. But she’ll be doing most of the transfer by herself.”
“You don’t trust me to do it right?”
“I don’t want one of Kolek’s most discreet clients going code blue on us.”
“Hey, that was not my fault,” I say. “She must have been using—”
“I’m not taking the chance, Lirium.” He looks out the window, ending the argument as the car swerves off the narrow coastal highway and dips down a driveway that’s headed for the beach. We plunge into a thick forest of trees and shrubs that are designed to hide the high-priced estate from the traffic of the road. Half-way down, a guard at a white-metal gate stops us, then quickly waves us through. The house is tiny, or at least the cramped circular driveway landing shows only a portion of it, the rest shrouded in palms and tropical vegetation. I can’t imagine how much it must cost to maintain all that greenery.
A young, rail-thin brunette dressed in a revealing white blouse and short skirt hurries to greet us even before we’ve all climbed out of the car.
“Hello!” Her voice is as perky as the body that her clothes barely conceal. “My name is Katy, Mr. Mayer’s personal assistant!” All of her words are punctuated with cheerfulness. She seems higher than we are, which would be some trick.
“Hi Katy! My name’s Lirium. I’m your debt collector for today.”
Her grin falters. Ophelia coughs into her hand.
Valac throws me a frown and steps in front of me. “Are you ready for us?” he says to Katy. He puts a hand on her shoulder and guides her toward the door. “I hope we’re not too late. The traffic was terrible out of the city…” He keeps speaking as they reach the door, but I’m busy wondering what kind of personal assistance Katy and her short skirt give Mr. Mayer.
Ophelia grabs my attention with her mile-wide grin.
“What?” I say.
“She’s… cute,” she says quietly. We follow after Valac, slow enough to not be overheard.
“She’s inhumanly perky,” I say. “And high on something better than life hits.”
“You were totally checking her out.”
“I was not,” I protest. “But if she’s going to wear a skirt like that… you can’t blame me for looking.” I’m arguing mostly for Nico’s and two-pints’ benefit. They shuffle along behind us, and I’m sure they’re just waiting for an excuse to beat the crap out of me. Or simply shoot me. I don’t want them to get any ideas about repeat performances on either of our parts.
Ophelia shakes her head then teeters in her stilettos across the threshold. “You were checking her out,” she whispers. I scowl as she saunters inside.
The house has some kind of magic trick where it appears larger on the inside than the outside. Or perhaps the extent of it was buried in the tropical plants. But the narrow entranceway quickly opens into a large circular room with a sweep of windows. It feels like we’re inside an aquarium. Past the giant, curved piece of glass, the waves break soundlessly against the shore, an untouched stretch of yellow-white sand almost as blinding as the sunlight sprinkled waves. I shade my eyes. All I can think is, how do people live in such brightness all the time?
Valac reappears and sweeps us out of the light and into a darker room, where the slatted shades are drawn. The sun beats against them, breaking through in occasional electric white lines that slice the room to pieces. But they don’t reach the large white bed in the center, or the tall, regal-looking man standing near it, conferring with Katy the Perky Assistant.
Valac leads us to him. “Congressman Mayer,” he says, “these are the collectors I mentioned, Lirium and Ophelia.”
Congressman? He does look vaguely familiar, but it’s not like I follow politics. Valac could have said he was a movie star, and I would have thought the same thing. He seems like a long-term recipient of life hits, though. His hair’s slightly gray at the temples, but his dye job looks fake up close. Like he’s trying to cover up the fact that he’s younger than he should be.
The law forbids transfers to
politicians and other people who are in charge of writing the regulations that cover life energy dispositions. Even if the congressman were making grand contributions to world peace and dying of a heart attack, he wouldn’t be eligible for a life hit. Not a legal one, anyway. My stomach turns, knowing the life energy I collected from the involuntary donors today is going into someone who set up all this in the first place. The donor’s bad luck put them under my hand, but there’s no luck—or merit—involved in Mayer getting the payout.
No wonder the congressman wants to keep it discreet.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lirium.” Mayer nods to me, then smiles at Ophelia in a way that makes my stomach curl. “Ophelia.” There’s way too much craving behind that smile. His gaze travels over the sheer netting part of her outfit. Why did Valac dress her this way, knowing we were coming here? I want even more to pay out personally to the congressman.
“As I mentioned,” Valac says, “Lirium is a new addition to our team. This is his first time transferring to such an esteemed client, so we’ll have Ophelia supervising at first. Then she’ll handle the rest of the transfer by herself.”
I force a smile onto my face. I don’t like this at all.
“Congressman Mayer,” Ophelia says. “Would you like to have a seat?”
She’s all smiles, which I like even less. The oversized bed is the only place to sit. Mayer grins and perches on the edge. Ophelia’s stiletto heels click as she follows him. He watches every step.
I’m wondering if I can transfer to him at all without punching him.
Ophelia hooks a finger, beckoning me. Valac takes that as his cue and guides Katy from the room. She seems reluctant to leave. I’m not the only one who’s worried about Mayer’s intentions.
“We’ll do it just like before, Lirium,” Ophelia says, taking my hand and placing it on Mayer’s forehead. It doesn’t have a wrinkle on it, and it’s cool under my buzz-heated hand.
Ophelia lays her hand on the back of mine. I slip my free hand around her waist and pull her closer. Just because I don’t want Mayer to do it. She gives me a quizzical look, probably wondering why I’m being such a Neanderthal. I’m not quite sure myself. There’s not much danger of her getting hurt by Mayer—she could easily kill us both in the position we are right now, all skin-to-skin and vulnerable. And it’s not like I have any claim on Ophelia: she’s made it pretty clear she’s not looking for more than the occasional make-out from me, and I’m an idiot for wanting even that. She betrayed me. Trapped me in the mob with her. But I can’t help thinking that if I could just drag her away from Kolek, all that would change.
As if I could force Ophelia to do anything.
“Start the transfer slow,” she says quietly, her face turned so her words are a whisper of breath on my face. “I’ll show you how to open it wider.”
I know she means the transfer spigot, but for some reason my mind gropes at innuendos. Probably the sexy way she says it, all simmering heat in her words. She’s playing it up for Mayer, all part of the payout he’s paying for.
I grit my teeth, but nod and start the transfer.
I’ve never paid much attention to my payout rate before, but after two hours of carefully controlled collecting, I can feel it now: the portal can be controlled both ways, collecting and paying out. Ophelia nudges it a little wider and I follow her lead.
Shadows crowd the edge of my vision. The knot in my stomach ties so tight it’s difficult to breathe. My hand curls under Ophelia’s, clawing at Mayer’s youthful shock of brown hair. The payout is faster than I’ve done before, with the exception of Dr. Brodsky and that was uncontrolled. And a mercy hit, so it felt good, not this taste of death that’s heaving my stomach.
The buzz shows up in Mayer’s face. His lips part, a small smile creeping on them, and his breath is hot on my arm. His gaze is making a meal out of Ophelia’s body, sandwiched between us. My hand at her waist has reflexively cramped tighter, which is a good thing, or I might be punching the congressman after all.
“Relax, baby.” She pries off my grip with her free hand. “Your body reacts to the payout, just like a collection in reverse. You have to relax into it. Don’t fight the payout, and your body won’t respond to it quite so much.”
I try to do what she says. Usually I push the life energy into a payout; now I focus on keeping the spigot small and letting the life energy flow rather than be forced.
It works.
The darkness crowding my mind eases a little. I’m still paying out at the same rate, but my hand on Mayer’s head uncramps. I move my free hand back to Ophelia’s waist, gentle this time.
She allows it, saying, “You always were a fast learner, baby.”
Mayer’s gaze travels up her body and caresses her face. He’s fully feeling the buzz now, and it’s obvious he wants her alone. I can too easily imagine why. Ophelia gently pulls my hand from Mayer’s head. The transfer cuts off as soon as we lose contact, but I’m not ready to leave her alone with him.
“Lesson’s over,” she says. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.”
I really don’t like the sound of that. “I can stay. In case you need me.”
She twists and puts her hands on my shoulders. I think she’s going to kiss me, but she sweeps past my lips to plant a chaste peck on my cheek. “I’ll be fine, baby,” she says softly. “Tell Valac I won’t be long.”
She’s reminding me that Valac doesn’t want me to stay. She’s also toying with me the same way she’s playing Mayer, which reminds me that I’m actually still not happy with her. But she’s right. Valac’s planned this out a certain way, and I better not screw it up.
“Fine,” I say. “Call if you need me.”
I step back, but Mayer’s already forgotten I was there. I turn away, but not before he puts both hands on her hips and pulls her into his lap.
I wish I had left sooner.
My fists clench and unclench as I stalk from the congressman’s bedroom. I’m not sure if I’m more bothered by his hands on Ophelia’s hips or the way she seems to think she can play me with an almost kiss. I’m most bothered by the fact that it bothers me.
The light of the living room blinds me, and I stumble over something on the floor. I catch myself before I fall.
“Everything all right?” Valac asks from somewhere ahead of me. I shield my eyes and see him at the edge of a darkened hallway near the entrance. Katy hovers next to him, on high alert for my answer.
“Ophelia says she won’t be long.” I seriously consider waiting two minutes then going in to check on them. Then again, I’m not sure I want to see what’s happening. “Can I have a word with you?” I ask Valac.
He frowns but tilts his head back, then disappears into the dark. I follow after him, brushing past Katy’s wide-eyed look. She seems lost as to whether she should let us drift off into the dark corners of the house by ourselves, but elects to stay by Nico and two-pints in the living room. At the end of the hall is a small bedroom with the drapes drawn. From the fluffy white comforter, pink surfboard in the corner, and the heart-shaped picture screens, I’m guessing the room belongs to Katy.
I close the door behind us. “You should send me back in there,” I say to Valac. “I don’t like the way he’s looking at Ophelia, and I can do the payout. She can supervise, if you’re worried.” What I really need to do is get Ophelia out of the mob altogether. No matter what sexy kitten moves she has, surviving this way isn’t any good for her. Or me.
“Don’t worry about Ophelia,” Valac says, but he looks more tense than I would like to hear with those words. “She’s not doing anything she doesn’t want to.”
Which is of course a complete lie. “Oh, c’mon! You know she doesn’t enjoy curling up to that asshole.” Ophelia’s doing what she has to. Kolek won’t tolerate her shirking her duties. I cringe inside as I realize she’s been pulling extra collections—and payouts—while I’ve been recovering in my room. How many more death make-out sessions has she already done? Or will she
have to do in the future? I can’t believe Kolek would let that asset go to waste.
“She was your mentor,” I say. “You can’t tell me you don’t care.”
“I don’t care.”
I can’t tell if he’s lying or not. Agitation makes me curl up a fist and press it against the wall by the door. I want to put my fist through it, but that won’t help anything.
“Let’s give them five minutes,” I say, “then send me in there. I can handle it.”
“I told you before. You’ll get your chance to prove yourself to Kolek. Later. And when the time comes, whatever happens, just make sure you don’t hesitate.”
That stops me. My hand drops from the wall. “What do you mean, don’t hesitate?”
Valac runs a hand through the waves of his blond hair. “When Kolek asks you to collect, don’t take your time figuring out whether or not you want to. Just do it. Later, you can agonize about it all you want.”
“He’s going to test me.” A sick dread pumps into my stomach.
Valac drops his hand and looks me in the eyes. “Yes. And I’d really prefer it if you passed the test, little bird.”
“Because if I don’t…?”
“He’ll tell me to kill you.”
Valac sounds like killing me would actually not be on his top ten for the afternoon. “You care,” I say sarcastically. “I’m touched.”
Valac glares at me. “I’ll be happy relieve you of your life energy, Lirium.” His voice is cold, but there’s something underneath it. A flinch. It perplexes me. “But I really don’t want to explain to Ophelia how I had to kill her puppy.”
I frown. “So, you do care. About Ophelia, I mean.”
He looks away, pretending to examine the trinkets on Katy’s dresser. “I owe her,” he says with a sigh. “She saved me once.”
“You have a funny way of paying her back.”
He whips his head back to me. “She attacked me. In front of Kolek. I had no choice.” His chest is heaving, and I believe he means it.
And that, at least, I can understand. “None of us have a choice, do we?” Maybe I can get Valac to help me after all. But his face hardens with my words and I’m losing my chance. I scramble after it. “What’s the story with you and Ophelia?” He looks away again, so I press on. “She told me to ask you.”
The Debt Collector (Season 1) Page 18
