The Debt Collector (Season Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  He peers at me from his still-ducked head. “I killed two men, Lexy.”

  I wince, feeling the pain twice—once for him and once for me—then I move closer to him. “Hey, you only shot them, pal. Don’t take credit where credit isn’t due.”

  The tormented look on his face doesn’t change. “How do you do it?”

  Now the pain is square in my chest: I’ve shoved Wyatt up against the dark side of the city, and it’s forced him into being something he doesn’t want. Something that has to traffic in death out of necessity. Something like me.

  And he hates it.

  My head shakes, but the words are getting tangled up in my mouth. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the afternoon crying alone in my office, but the tears are already brimming in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I so sorry I got you pulled into all of this. If I could have kept you away from it, or it away from you, I would have. I tried.”

  He’s looking aghast at my words and my tears and my scrunched up face. He reaches out and pulls me into his arms. I’m crying against his chest now, and he’s holding me tight, hands on my back and in my hair.

  “God, Lexy, I didn’t mean that,” he whispers in my hair. “I know you tried. I know how long you’ve been trying to do all of this all by yourself.”

  But he doesn’t know. I still have a secret from him, even though he’s seen the worst of it up close. Even though I’ve dragged him through the debt collector world with me.

  Because Seth wasn’t the first man I killed.

  The gush of tears slows a little, and I pull away from him enough to wipe the rest away. But he doesn’t let me go far—his touch on my waist keeps me near. And I’m not strong enough to pull away from that kind of gentleness.

  He peers at my face, half hidden in the billowing of my hair. “I meant, how do you survive it? I’ve only been exposed to some of it—the danger, the terrible choices—and I’m not even a debt collector. I don’t have to… experience it the way you do. And I’m still having a hell of a time sleeping at night.”

  I don’t have any words for that—because how can I explain that it took me actually dying to figure out how to survive?

  “I’ve always known you were brilliant, Lexy.”

  “Well, there’s that at least.” I smile, but it’s forcing the tears out again, so I stop.

  He shakes his head. “And I thought you were strong, but I really had no idea. None at all. And I wish…”

  He pauses and there’s something in his eyes that captures me—not the sky-blue color or the thick lashes that make the girls swoon, but something like regret. And that’s not something I want him to have. Ever.

  “What it is, Wyatt? Tell me.” My words are rushing out now. “Whatever it is… I want to fix it. Because life’s too short to not fix the things that can be.”

  He smiles, even as a half dozen other emotions seem to torment his face. “I wish I had known all along who you really were.”

  His gaze is so intense, I have to drop mine and stare at the buttons on his shirt. The pressure of his hand on my waist grows stronger, and he pulls me close up against him, but in this tight space between us, I’m not sure if I can really tell him the one thing he doesn’t know. Then again, I don’t think there’s any other way, really.

  “You didn’t kill Seth or Moloch or Ishtar,” I say to the button on his shirt as I twist it between my fingers. “I did that. And there’s someone else I killed, too.”

  “Is it Glenn?”

  I yank back from him so hard, I almost pull all the way from his embrace. Air is trapped in my chest. He knows. He knows… and he still wants to hold me. “How did you know?”

  “Miral told me.”

  As I’m standing there, flummoxed, he eases me back into his arms once more. “I don’t know what happened, but I know this: whatever it was, it was an accident. And you were young. And things, awful things, happen… and that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

  “This was my fault, Wyatt.” I don’t know why I’m protesting so hard. Why can’t I just take his easy forgiveness? “I didn’t know what I was, so I wasn’t careful. It… it… felt good so I didn’t stop. Not in time. Not before it was too late.” Tears race down my face, chasing each other to the edge of my chin.

  He wipes them and holds my cheeks. “He died because you were touching him,” he says softly, like he understands. But he doesn’t.

  “He died because I was making love to him.” I suck in a breath because my chest is going to burst with all the emotion contained in those words. I wait for Wyatt’s response, for him to truly get what I’m saying, but he just keeps brushing my cheeks.

  “I figured it was something like that.” His voice is so gentle, I almost don’t understand what he’s saying. But he knows now. All of it. And he’s still touching me. As if it doesn’t matter.

  He takes a breath and lets it out. “I’m not sure when I figured it out. Maybe it was when I was watching you hold Lirium’s hand while he healed that little girl. Or maybe not until I saw you press your hand to Zachariel’s wound. But somewhere along the way, I realized… it was different for collectors. You weren’t afraid to touch them. Not the way you’ve always held back from touching me. Even when we kissed... it was like a mistake. You even said it once—that it was a moment of weakness. Then Miral told me and, well, it was the final piece in a puzzle I’ve been trying to put together for so long about you.”

  My mouth is hanging open. How could Wyatt understand this without me ever explaining?

  “Hey, don’t be so shocked,” he says with a small smile. “I may not be Sterling-brilliant, but I can figure a few things out on my own.” Then his smile fades. “And it doesn’t take a genius to know that you and Zachariel were close. Really close. The only thing I don’t know is…” He swallows. “Do you not want to be with me because you can’t, not that way, or is it because Zachariel is just that much better? Whatever you do, please lie to me and tell me it’s simply not possible.” He tries for a smile, but it’s laced with pain.

  My face opens in surprise. “No. I mean… I haven’t actually…” I stall out, breathless that he’s asking me this. That he wants this. “It should be possible.”

  But the pain doesn’t ease from his face. “You’re supposed to lie to me, Lexy.”

  He’s not understanding me. So I take his cheeks in my hands and pull his face down to kiss me. He’s surprised at first, but then his hands find their way around my back and into my hair. It starts out as a way to prove that I’m not afraid, that I can touch him without hurting him—that most of all I want to—but it quickly turns into a kiss that’s consuming me. Or maybe I’m consuming him. Our tongues and lips and hands fight for the right to claim which is most eager. I’m already aching for our clothes to magically disappear and for the feel of skin-to-skin contact with him. I want every part of me to touch every part of him. When he turns and presses me against the door of my office, gaining an echo of that contact through all of our corporate clothes, I moan into his mouth. He deepens our kiss, trapping my body between his and the door… and I flash back for an instant to that frenzied couple I saw from the window of Odel’s apartment… bare flesh, pressed against the window, hands gripping and pulling and making love for all the city to see.

  Unabashed. Unafraid.

  I work at the buttons on Wyatt’s shirt. I don’t know how far we’ll take this right now, in this moment, but I’m not stopping unless he stops me. I’m grabbing all the living that I can, right now, every second of it, while I still have it.

  Because I don’t ever want to live in fear of loving again.

  The city’s night lights sparkle, twinkles of white against a velvet dark, beckoning me from outside my apartment window. The ethereal glow dances across my collector suit, and my body tingles with anticipation. Or perhaps it’s the afterglow of making love to Wyatt in my office just a few hours ago. Yes, it’s definitely that. And there will be more of that in the future, if I have anything to say about it. I don�
��t think Wyatt will object.

  I smile at the night, even though my city is still broken.

  Which, in fact, is why I’m standing here, waiting for the soft tone at my door that will signal Jax’s arrival. When it comes, I hurry over to let her in.

  “Do you have it?” I ask.

  She holds up her palm. “I thought we were done with this business, Wraith.”

  “The justice business?” I touch my palm to hers, transferring over my next target’s information. “Whatever made you think that?”

  She shrugs, the shoulders of her brown trenchcoat moving up and down with the motion. “I don’t know. Debt collection suspensions. Lifetime shutting down. Cybernetics and life tech together. I’m pretty sure those are three signs of the apocalypse.”

  I grin, but I’m focused on my palm. Cynthia Turner, Actuarial Adjuster, Department of Life and Health, getting life energy kickbacks for off book life energy payouts. Perfect.

  I look up at Jax. “Can’t be the apocalypse yet. I still don’t know the story behind how you met your girlfriend.”

  “It was at a party.” Jax’s grumpy demeanor is the only thing that could possibly render that story into only five words, instead of the usual five thousand.

  “Okay, be that way,” I say, waving off her grumpiness. “Melinda will tell me.”

  Jax scowls at my suit and my palm and my wild, unbound hair. “I thought you were smarter than this, Wraith. Just when you’ve got things good again… why are you doing this?” She gestures to the nighttime city lights outside my window, like this is something I’m doing to the entire city. And in a way she’s right.

  “There’s a lot of dirt still left in our city, Jax.”

  “So… what? You’re going to clean it all up, all by yourself?”

  I grin. “No. Not all by myself.”

  She grumps at that, too. “Well, if you get yourself killed, don’t come haunting me from the afterlife.”

  I laugh, and Jax looks at me like I’m crazy. But I’m not. And I’m not thrill-seeking or high-chasing, either. I’m doing the one thing I’m uniquely suited to do: bring a flicker of illumination a small corner of the darkness for a while.

  I kiss Jax on the cheek and hurry out the door.

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  Note: There are five planned seasons in Debt Collector. Seasons One through Four will each feature a separate debt collector's story, then Season Five will bring all four debt collectors together, Avengers-style. I plan to write Seasons Three-Five back-to-back, which means they will have to wait until some of my other projects are complete.

  I would LOVE for you to check out my NEW young adult science fiction series, Singularity.

  What would you give to live forever?

  Elijah Brighton wants to become an ascender—human/machine hybrid—they’re smarter, more enlightened, and achingly beautiful. But Eli’s a legacy human, preserved for his unaltered genetic code, just like the rainforest he paints. When a fugue state miraculously lands Eli a sponsor for the creative Olympics, he might win the right to ascend. But when Eli arrives at the Games, he finds the ascenders are playing games of their own. Everything he knows starts to unravel… until he’s running for his life and wondering who he truly is.

  Start with The Legacy Human (Singularity #1) now!

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  More Stories from Susan Kaye Quinn...

  THE SINGULARITY SERIES

  young adult science fiction

  What would you give to live forever?

  Singularity Series

  The Legacy Human (Book 1)

  The Duality Bridge (Book 2)

  The Stories of Singularity #1-4 (Novella Box Set)

  The Illusory Prophet (Book 3)... coming 2016

  Seventeen-year-old Elijah Brighton wants to become an ascender—a post-Singularity human/machine hybrid—after all, they’re smarter, more enlightened, more compassionate, and above all, achingly beautiful. But Eli is a legacy human, preserved and cherished for his unaltered genetic code, just like the rainforest he paints. When a fugue state possesses him and creates great art, Eli miraculously lands a sponsor for the creative Olympics. If he could just master the fugue, he could take the gold and win the right to ascend, bringing everything he’s yearned for within reach… including his beautiful ascender patron. But once Eli arrives at the Games, he finds the ascenders are playing games of their own. Everything he knows about the ascenders and the legacies they keep starts to unravel… until he’s running for his life and wondering who he truly is.

  The Legacy Human is the first in Susan Kaye Quinn’s new young adult science fiction series that explores the intersection of mind, body, and soul in a post-Singularity world… and how technology will challenge us to remember what it means to be human.

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  THE MINDJACK SAGA

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  When everyone reads minds, a secret is a dangerous thing to keep.

  Mindjack Saga

  Open Minds (Book 1)

  Closed Hearts (Book 2)

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  Sixteen-year-old Kira Moore is a zero, someone who can't read thoughts or be read by others. Zeros are outcasts who can't be trusted, leaving her no chance with Raf, a regular mindreader and the best friend she secretly loves. When she accidentally controls Raf's mind and nearly kills him, Kira tries to hide her frightening new ability from her family and an increasingly suspicious Raf. But lies tangle around her, and she's dragged deep into a hidden underworld of mindjackers, where having to mind control everyone she loves is just the beginning of the deadly choices before her.

  There are three novels in the original Mindjack trilogy (Open Minds, Closed Hearts, Free Souls), as well as five novellas that accompany the series... and plans for another trilogy in the works (see Susan’s latest novella, The Locksmith, for a peek at a new Mindjack character for the coming trilogy).

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  THE ROYALS OF DHARIA

  sweet royal romance

  Romance, sword fights, and skyships

  Royals of Dharia

  Third Daughter (Book 1)

  Second Daughter (Book 2)

  First Daughter (Book 3)

  Aniri is the Third Daughter of the Queen of Dharia—and she has zero royal duties. She’s just the backup daughter, in case her older sisters’ arranged marriages don’t quite work out. But then the impossible happens—a marriage proposal. From a barbarian prince in the north, no less. And if Aniri refuses, the threat of their new flying weapon might bring war. So she agrees, only to discover the prince has his own secrets… and that saving her country may end up breaking her heart.

  This Bollywood-style royal romance takes you to an alternate East Indian world filled with skyships, saber duels, and lots of royal intrigue.

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  THE DEBT COLLECTOR

  sexy, gritty future-noir

  What's your life worth on the open market?

  Debt Collector

  Season One

  Season Two

  (audiobook)

  In this sexy, gritty future-noir, debt collectors take your life energy and give it to someone more "worthy"... all while paying the price with black marks on their souls. Intended for ages 17+.

  Watch the Debt Collector trailer on YouTube.

  ~*~

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  When the idea for Debt Collector came to me, I was in the middle of a long drive home from visiting a writer-friend. The concept was so powerful, I had to pull to the side of the road and s
tart writing immediately. The words gushed out of me—the first episode was finished 72 hours later. The second within a week. By the time I wrote the third, I realized I couldn’t get away with just jotting this story down as a throw-away novella in between my other projects. Debt Collector quickly grew into a nine-episode, five-season, sprawling enterprise.

  By the time the first season was complete, I had the concept for the next one, Wraith’s story, firmly in my head. But I agonized over it. Female anti-hero characters were nowhere near as common as male ones, and often they were cartoons—one-dimensional creatures that were simply a girl turned into a killing machine of one kind or another. I wanted my female anti-hero to be as complex and compelling a character as Lirium, not least because readers were so enamored with him (as was I). But I knew Lirium was just one of four debt collectors who would steer this story, and each would have to be compelling in their own right.

  So I spent most of that year in between seasons researching anti-heroes, both male and female, and asking veteran writers about the concept. When the time came to write Season Two, I was itching to tell Wraith’s story. Yet when I sat down to write, it was still excruciatingly difficult to render the character in my head onto the page—whereas Lirium’s story had been a thrilling life energy hit, Wraith’s was a payout of the worst kind. At least at first. It took five attempts at writing the first episode before I had Wraith just the way I wanted her. After that, her story took on a life of its own, just as it should.