The Debt Collector (Season 1)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  “I’m not going to kill the boy,” I say to Kolek, but my gaze is calmly fixed on Nico, past the barrel of his gun, which is hovering an inch from my forehead. Nico’s eyes are brown. Dark brown like mud.

  I wait for the bullet.

  It doesn’t come. Nico blinks. He flicks a look to Kolek. No one is saying anything, probably trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing, so I decide it’s time for a few last words. Maybe I can say something that will help the boy. I turn to Kolek. His face is red with confused anger, like he’s not quite sure what has happened yet.

  “It’s a foolish waste, Kolek,” I say, my voice amazingly calm. I expect to get a bullet in the back of my head any second, yet my words are strangely unhurried. “The boy has a ton of potential life in him. He’s strong, just the kind you like. He made a mistake, but the kid’s got guts. He tried to steal from a mob boss. You have to give him credit for going up against the biggest bad guys in his neighborhood. That’s the kind you want inside your organization. And a dead kid is one of the few things that might make donors more angry than afraid.”

  The red in Kolek’s face is fading a little. Valac’s is completely white, his mouth hanging open. I give him a small smile. If Kolek tells him to drain me, I’ve already decided I’ll lunge for Nico. I’d rather take the bullet. At least then he can tell Ophelia that Kolek killed me, not him.

  “You have some balls,” Kolek says, and oddly, it sounds like a compliment.

  I don’t say anything, just square my shoulders and judge that Nico’s still within lunging distance. The boy struggles up from the floor. He looks wildly between me and Nico and Kolek, then throws a look toward the door.

  “Don’t,” I say to him. “Be smart. You’ll live longer.”

  He swallows visibly, and I can see his legs are barely holding him up. But he stands straight and doesn’t make any more moves to escape.

  The tip of Nico’s gun presses against my head, forcing it to tilt to the side.

  “Nico,” Kolek says. “Take the boy downstairs and get him cleaned up. I’ll have a talk with him later.”

  Nico’s gun lingers on my head, then he gives me a nudge with it, and the pressure disappears. I hold in the sigh of relief as he takes the kid by the shirt and shoves him toward the door. It seems like the boy has a reprieve, but I’m not sure why I’m not dead yet.

  Kolek comes closer. His blue eyes stare into mine. I should be afraid. He could have a gun under that expensive Italian suit he’s wearing.

  I’m not.

  “I should kill you,” Kolek says.

  “Probably,” I say.

  He lets out a snort, but he’s smiling. He’s not actually going to kill me, not right now, anyway. In that case, maybe I can do something to clean up the mess I’ve made.

  “Or, you could use someone like me inside your organization, too,” I say. “Someone with guts.”

  He throws a smirk to Valac, who has managed to shut his mouth. “I think the boy is angling for your job, Valac.”

  He says nothing, his stare still wide-eyed.

  When Kolek turns back, his eyes are smiling, but his face has gone severe. “Last week you came into my house thinking you could steal from me,” he says. “Now you think you’re cut out to be one of my enforcers?”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  “Not fast enough.” His eyes have lost their mirth, too, and I wonder if he’s going to kill me after all. “Your psych officer said you might be some trouble.”

  I’m glad that Valac told me earlier, so I can keep it cool. Like I knew Candy sold me out all along. “We had a disagreement about my training. She thought I needed lessons from Ophelia.”

  “I hope you’ve learned all your lessons now, collector, because I’m not inclined to give you any more chances.” He waves to Valac. “Bring up the boy’s file.”

  I frown. Valac hesitates just a split second, then rapid-touches his palm screen. He steps closer to Kolek and holds it out. Even from a few feet away I can see it’s a picture of me—a younger me. It’s my intake picture for the Agency.

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. That record is supposed to be sealed.

  “Joseph ‘Joe’ Louis Miller,” Kolek reads from Valac’s palm. “Born September 13th 2049 to Alice and Stanis Miller. Raised by a single mother here on the east side. Father: whereabouts unknown at intake.” He glances at me. “That’s a shame. A boy needs a father, don’t you think?”

  I don’t answer, every hair on the back of my neck standing at attention.

  Kolek brushes aside Valac’s palm. He steps closer, his clear blue eyes cold. Flat. They remind me of my eyes in the mirror. The eyes of a killer. “How is your mother these days, Joe?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I say, but the roughness of my voice betrays me. “Haven’t talked to her in years. She could be in Arizona for all I know.”

  “You should call her,” he says. “Family is important.”

  I nod.

  He leans in close enough that I can smell his aftershave and lightly smacks my face twice with his palm. It stings, but I hold absolutely still. He grasps hold of my face and whispers, “Don’t disobey one of my orders again, Joe.”

  “No, sir,” I say quickly.

  He turns away, dismissing me with his back, and wanders over to where he left his drink.

  I’m going to live, at least for the moment. Which only means I’ve burned my chance to escape into the afterworld, whatever that is, with just my life. Without anyone else getting killed along with me. Now I either have to stay in Kolek’s mob forever or get out and find my mom before he does.

  I do more pushups than I’ve ever done before.

  I pass a hundred and keep going, like I’ve got the muscle strength of a marine. It’s the years of life energy I collected yesterday, boosting me to ridiculous levels of stamina. Valac wasn’t lying when he said that collecting for the mob would make me stronger. I wonder, if it came to it, if I’d have the strength to fight him off. Not physically, but with stored life energy. But he must have years and years more than me, his cut from all his time working for Kolek, so probably not. But maybe.

  I stop after a hundred and fifty. Sweat drips down to my chin as I stand. I wipe it with my shoulder. I should shower, get dressed, but I pace instead, energy still vibrating through my body. It’s not just the life energy—something inside me was cracked open when I made that choice to save the boy instead of myself. Something freeing and dangerous. I’m not quite sure what it is, but suddenly things seem possible that didn’t before. Only I’ve been locked inside my room since the showdown with Kolek, unable to do anything. It’s been a day and a half since Valac shut me in, and the agitation is threating to drive me insane.

  I know what’s in my file, the one Kolek not-so-vaguely used to threaten me. My mom’s name, her last known address, and a whole host of other information about her, me, my long-gone father, and anything else the Agency wanted. I filled it all out because I wanted in. Now, all of it is in Kolek’s hands.

  He may already know where she is. The only thing that gives me hope that he doesn’t, is that I don’t. She moved sometime after she signed me over to the Agency. It’s my fault, really. When the Agency wouldn’t take me early, I left home. Couldn’t take the look in her eyes anymore, like I was already dead to her. I lived on the streets awhile, had my encounter with the mob in that alley, then finally made my way back home.

  Only she wasn’t there.

  The landlord said she had moved out. The pharmacy where she worked said she quit. Just pulled up stakes and left. I didn’t try to track her down because… well, because I figured she didn’t want to be found. Now I’m tempted to search my palm screen for her, but that would only lead Kolek right to her. And if she’s that easy to find, he has her already.

  The sun pushes hazy red light through the bars across my window. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, rubbing out the sweat in the need to think. At some point, I’ll screw up, balk at some order, and t
hen there will be no way for me to protect her. I have to get out, and soon, but I don’t even know where to start.

  I need to talk to Ophelia. There’s got to be some way to convince her to leave. Or at least help me get out. I shouldn’t want her to come with me—if I had any sense, I wouldn’t even trust her to help—but I can’t stop myself from wanting something better for both of us than a life in the mob. And wanting to share that life with her.

  I want to pound on my door, demand someone let me see her, but that would belie my tough new act as a mob collector. I’m tempted to at least bang on my wall; Valac’s room is just on the other side. I peel off my damp t-shirt, wipe the rest of the sweat from my face, and throw the wadded shirt hard against the wall behind the bed. The soft puff sound won’t disturb Valac, but the act of throwing it vents some of my frustration.

  I run both hands through my hair. I really should shower. Be ready, in case Valac comes to my door with an opportunity to collect. That’s going to be my best chance. Outside the compound. More variables. Less security. The problem is there’s no way to plan an escape when I don’t know where or when we’re venturing out.

  I wipe my hands on my sweat pants and take two steps toward the shower when my door slides open. I pull up short. Ophelia darts in my room, swiping a card past the door lock and sliding it shut again.

  I cover the distance between us in three long strides.

  She’s dressed in the gray silk pajamas Kolek gave her the first night. “Lirium—”

  I cut her off by taking her in my arms and kissing her. Her small frame fits against me, and her arms slip around my neck. I pull her tight, one hand at her back, the other behind her head, holding her as my lips make demands.

  Her mouth opens, welcoming me in. I deepen our kiss and press her against the door. She starts to transfer, giving me a hit through her fingers clutching at my shoulders. I slide my hand under her pajamas, finding bare skin at the small of her back, and cycle the energy to her again.

  I pause our kiss for a second, just long enough to say, “Hello,” then kiss her again. She smiles against my lips, and I may have ruined it by making her laugh. I pull back.

  “Hello yourself,” she says.

  “I’m really glad to see you.” I’m a little breathless.

  “I couldn’t tell.”

  I smile, then kiss her lightly. We’ve stopped transferring, and I relax my fervent hold on her, but she’s still trapped between me and the door. The kiss was just a spontaneous reaction—I hope it was the right call, because I need her on my side. She doesn’t seem in a hurry to be elsewhere, so I think my instincts were right.

  “How did you get in here?” I ask, softly.

  She waves the swipe card. “The staff won’t figure out it’s gone until the morning.”

  I grin. “You planning on staying a while?” I’m thinking there may be more than one way to convince her to help me, and I’m definitely not averse to experimenting.

  “I was getting bored in my room,” she says.

  The idea of dragging her to bed for a while dissipates as I realize she just broke out of her room. “Wait, if you can swipe into my room with that—”

  She pushes me away, like I’m foolish to even consider it. “You can’t get out with just a swipe card, Lirium.”

  I cringe. I need to play this cool. My hand slides across the soft silk of her pajamas to bring her, gently, back into my arms. “Did you hear what happened?”

  “About you being an idiot with Kolek?” She frowns. “I thought you were getting smarter, baby. Working up to minnow.”

  I run a finger along the midnight-black hair framing her face. “Kolek has my file. Valac had it all along. He must have gotten it from Candy. She’s the one who sold us out.”

  I expect her to be shocked. She’s not.

  I draw back, the cozy space between us disappearing. “You knew.”

  She tilts her head to one side, resigned. “I didn’t know. But I heavily suspected.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it didn’t matter!” Her eyes flash, but then she clenches them shut, leans her head back against the door, and bangs it twice, lightly. “I’m sorry I got you in this mess. I should never have gone to your—”

  She stops herself and holds perfectly still.

  “What?” I ask, instantly suspicious.

  She opens her eyes, but looks away. “I wish I hadn’t gone to your apartment that night. You would never have gotten wrapped up in all this.”

  My suspicion hardens into a knot of dread in my stomach. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Ophelia shrugs her arms up, folding them across her chest. She’s still only a couple of inches away, but she’s retreating inside herself, putting a barrier between us.

  “Ophelia,” I say low and quiet. “Tell me.”

  She draws in a breath and lets it out slow. “I knew something was up with Candy. I’d been doing medical transfers, hanging out in the hospital a lot. Too much. Enough to see some things that I shouldn’t have seen.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like debt collectors coming to the pediatric ward when there shouldn’t be any. Like nurses who talk to debt collectors instead of running the other direction or avoiding us whenever possible.”

  “You saw the kids they were transferring out?” My mouth hangs open now. I should have realized Ophelia would know about the illegal life energy transfers from the kids—she used to mentor Valac, and he used to work for Madam A. But that she saw it happen… “And you think Candy was somehow involved? I know she’s at the very low end of the sleaze range, but…”

  “She had to be involved,” Ophelia says. “The debt collectors I saw—they all belonged to Candy. And they were definitely in the wrong ward, doing things they shouldn’t be doing. When I asked her if they were still on her list, still in the Agency, she looked funny at me and started purring on about how wonderful it was to have collectors like me. Collectors she didn’t have to worry about washing out or ending up dead.”

  “So… she was trying to kiss up to you? To keep you from telling anyone at the Agency?”

  Ophelia peers at me. “Who would I tell? For all I know, her dirty business goes straight up the chain at the Agency. And besides, when have you ever had Candy praise you without needing a shower to get the slime off afterward?” She shudders and clutches her arms tighter across her chest. “It was a warning. To stay out of it. Then she bumped me up to ER medical transfers in another hospital on the tail end of the east side. About as far from that peds ward as she could send me and still have me in her district. Whatever I saw, I was supposed to just forget. And I was happy to forget. I don’t want to know all the dirty business Candy has her red claws dipped into. But I should have known she wouldn’t leave it at that.”

  “So she sold you out to Kolek to get rid of you.” My fist presses against the door. Selling us out to the mob is bad enough, but doing it to cover up illegal transfers from kids… my stomach is a hard rock of hate. If I ever get out, Candy’s going to get a very special visit from me.

  Ophelia shakes her head. “I knew she might try something. I’ve seen Candy send perfectly sane debt collectors to The Retirement Home. And there have been others who have simply disappeared, supposedly captured by the mob. I didn’t ask why. Those aren’t the kind of things you can look at too closely without getting burned yourself. But I should have known. I should have requested a transfer to another city and gotten out of Candy’s reach. But when she sent me to you…”

  I frown. “You thought you were getting a second chance.”

  She nods. “I never thought she would sell you out, baby. You were just getting started. She couldn’t have had anything against you.”

  “I was washing out,” I say, and strangely, that time feels a million miles away. Like whatever cracked loose inside me last night, when I refused to transfer out that boy, moved me to a different place. A stronger place. One where I can’t imagine why the d
rowning abyss had captured me before.

  “She must have thought you were hopeless. She can’t stand collectors who make her look bad.” Ophelia turns her dark eyes to me. “She wasn’t sending me in there to rescue you—she was killing two problems at once. I should have seen it coming. I should have known better than to go anywhere near another collector, even a guppy like you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, but it’s light. I was spiraling into the darkness before Ophelia came along, and Candy would have washed me out soon enough. “But like I told you before, it’s not your fault they came after me.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she says, eyes downcast. “And it’s just dumb luck that you escaped.” She sighs. “You have some kind of guardian angel looking out for you.”

  “I thought that was supposed to be you.” I lean in to kiss her, but she dodges me and presses a hand to my chest, firmly pushing me away and putting a few more inches between us.

  “I am not your guardian angel.” Her lips purse tight, and her serious face beats back any thoughts of kissing, in spite of her hands lingering on my chest. “You’re sweet, baby. Too sweet. And you’ve got some kind of lucky star following you around. But you can’t count on that. And you can’t fight what we are; you’ll just wear yourself out or get yourself killed trying. That’s why I didn’t tell you about Candy and her evilness with the kids. Because you’re the kind who would run off and want to do something foolish, like try to save everyone. Like Valac and his crazy mission, before he figured out it was useless. Like when you came here, trying to save me. I don’t need to give you another hopeless cause, Lirium.” She shakes her head. “You should already be dead. I don’t know why Kolek didn’t kill you yesterday. There’s no way he’s going to let you get away with showing him up.”

  “But he did let me get away with it,” I say. “I don’t know why. I guess he respects me now, for standing up to him. And he made it perfectly clear he’ll go after my mom if I don’t do everything exactly like he wants.”

  “Well, that’s simple, then,” she says. “You do what Kolek wants.”