THE COLLECTOR 1 - Magical Chances

by Mechele Armstrong

  She patted the old couch again, her hand slowly running over the soft faded fabric. The fineness of it tickled her hands.

  The first couch that had been at the cabin, she and Drake had popped a spring or two. It had been no small feat, but they’d had a lot of fun doing it. Her face heated as she remembered the fun they’d had, seeing how quickly they could pop one out.

  Her head hung low, going down into her hands. She lightly tapped her forehead with her fingertips.

  This was stupid.

  She sat here pining over a life she didn’t have anymore, nor would she ever have again. It wasn’t something that would change.

  Drake was out of her life.

  It was time to leave this place. Time to leave the memories, the love, and betrayal behind.

  She’d have to go disappoint the Collector, tell him that she’d failed in her mission. Her throat constricted. He’d seemed to believe in her, too, despite knowing everything there was to know about her. That had become more important than the money.

  “Damn you, Drake Marsters.”

  If only she hadn’t gotten her hopes up after he’d told her about his magic. It would have been easier if that had never happened. She’d begun to believe they might have a chance at reconciliation. It would take a long while to nurse this wound. Probably forever. But somehow, she’d find a way to get on her feet again.

  Yes, she’d move closer to her sister and niece.

  Hopping to her feet, filled with a plan, she took a deep breath, and strode to the front door. She could go and leave the place behind. Maybe she wouldn’t even look back. Much.

  She opened it wide, then did a loud startled scream and jumped back a step. “Who the hell are you?”

  Lowering his raised hand, the man in khakis and a polo shirt did a move back of his own. He’d been about to knock on the door. “Are you Chloe Richards?”

  She blinked, taking a further step back into the cabin so she could slam the door if need be. Surely a serial killer wouldn’t come up here to find victims, would he? “Who wants to know?” Damn, she’d been so immersed in self-pity, she hadn’t heard the vehicle approach. The birds weren’t that loud.

  “I have a delivery for her. Is that you? I got lost on the way up, but this looks like the right address.” The delivery man looked expectantly at her. Now she noticed the logo above his pocket.

  “I’m Chloe.” She sighed deeply. Did Drake think flowers were going to fix this? It would take more than a few beautiful blossom and sweet fragrances to fix everything that had gone wrong with them.

  “Sign here.” He held out a clipboard she hadn’t noticed before. He fumbled with the other hand, yanking out an ink pen.

  Though tempted to refuse the delivery, she signed by the X on the line. It wasn’t the delivery driver’s fault. She’d be nice to him. Before she scattered every bloom to the mountain winds. “Here you go.”

  “I’ll go get it. I wanted to make sure I had the right house before I unloaded it.” He hurried back down to the truck parked in the drive.

  Shit. If it had been a small vase, there would have been no worry about unloading it. Drake had probably sent dozens of flowers. Men. Sucking up now wasn’t going to fix what had gone wrong.

  She watched the man struggle, pulling something out of the back of his delivery van. He turned, walking back toward the cabin where she could see him and what he had. She slumped on the doorjamb for support.

  What in the hell?

  He hefted the item up onto the porch. “Here you go.”

  She looked down as though it might bite. The artifact now rested on the porch beside her foot. The humming sound that she’d noticed the first time she’d encountered it buzzed in her ears. She reached out to touch the cool, smooth crystalline composition. “Where did you get this?”

  “Some farmhouse. A man named Drake Masters paid to deliver it up here to you. Thanks a lot.”

  Her head spun as she continued to finger the thing she’d been seeking. It hummed louder.

  Drake had delivered it to her.

  He’d delivered it to her!

  It wasn’t a fake. It was the real deal.

  And Drake had sent it to her as he said that he would. She’d never thought he was serious.

  He’d kept his promise.

  Emotion swelled in her breast. Warmth poured into her stomach.

  Her head swiveled around, looking beyond the totem for the first time in many seconds for the man who’d brought her this thing.

  The delivery man was at his vehicle. He was the only one with knowledge as to where Drake was right now.

  “No! Shit. Don’t leave yet.”

  He’d reached for his door and kept the handle in his hand, looking warily at her as she came running up to him. Now he was probably thinking about serial killers. Unless he refused to help her, he didn’t have to worry. “What?”

  She bounced around him like a kangaroo on crack, unable to help herself. “Drake Marsters. The one who hired you. Where was he? At his house?” Would he be home by now? She’d try calling after she got the information from this delivery driver.

  “It wasn’t at his residential address. I met him at some farm.” The man looked puzzled, his hand still on the handle.

  A farm? What was he doing at a farm? “Where was this farm? Did he meet Rob Gray there?”

  Drake had to have secured this from Gray. But how? Why? It didn’t make sense to have someone steal an object and then give it to the person you’d stolen it to get it away from. Unless Drake had been telling the truth, and he had no idea why Gray had said what he did. Why would Gray lie? But if that was true, how had he gotten the totem from Gray?

  “I don’t know who Gray is. Some dude was there at the house. Looked a little crazy. He stunk.” The driver wrinkled his nose.

  “Look ... whatever your name is ...”

  “Tim. Tim Gaines.”

  “Tim. I have to find Drake. Can you find that farm again?” Too many questions needed answering, and she needed Drake to get them answered. She’d given up on him too soon. She knew that now.

  “I ... guess I could. But I’m on duty.” He took his hand off the door handle. Perhaps he’d decided she wasn’t crazy. Ha, little did he know.

  She waved a hand. “Long as you can find it.”

  “No, I have one more delivery to make, ma’am. Mr. Marsters expedited this one so I’d come on up here. But I got work to do.” He cocked his head. “Sorry.”

  “No. You don’t understand. I have to find Drake. It’s important.” Love was always important. She should have trusted him, though he’d given her no reason to. Dammit, she’d been wrong. Loving someone did mean trusting them. She had to find Drake and tell him that. Not to mention, help him with Gray, because she’d started to think Gray was a few socks short of a full load. And she owed Gray a tap or two for lying to her about Drake.

  I should have believed you, Drake.

  The temper that Drake had always said would get her into trouble, had. She’d been so mad that Drake would cheat her after lying to her for so long. Only he hadn’t tried to get the totem away from her.

  There was only one way to make it right.

  Find him.

  She could only hope she wasn’t too late.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t.”

  “Hold it right there. Don’t you go anywhere yet.” She dashed back to the cabin, flying in the front door. Fumbling with her purse, she darted back out. Pulling out her wallet, she showed him the credit card.

  “The Collector?” Tim squinted at it.

  “It’s his card. But I can use it. I have authorization. You take me back to Drake, I’ll get you a cash advance. I’ll make it worth your time.”

  “How much?” The man’s eyes gleamed with greed, his eyes never leaving the credit card.

  “A thousand.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth about it being yours?” The man folded his arms in front of him.

  “We’ll go
to a bank in the first town we come to. I’ll get two hundred to show you I’m telling the truth. If I can’t, you can put me out in the town.” She bit her lip, silently pleading with him to agree.

  He hesitated.

  “Come on. You have to go that way anyway to get back to your regular deliveries.” Or at least, that was her hope. “I’ll up the ante.” She dangled as much temptation in front of him as she could. He could give her the address, but it would take too much time for her to find it on a map. And he knew exactly where it was.

  “How much will you up it?”

  “Three thousand once you take me to find Drake.” The card was for emergencies. This sure as hell was an emergency, so she didn’t feel too badly using it. She’d pay the Collector back somehow even if she didn’t get him the totem. This was for love. She had to find Drake and tell him how she felt. Somehow, their magical chance had come alive again.

  The totem hummed so loud on the porch, she could hear it. Maybe it was agreeing. No, it was probably just a cricket or cicada.

  “Make it five thousand once you find Drake.” He grinned at her. “And I’ll even hurry.”

  “Deal.”

  * * * * *

  Drake yawned as he strained against the handcuffs that Gray had put on him. He could break them at any time. His feet had been tied. He could unravel the knots. God, he was bored. Gray had on the TV but had it on some cartoon. The TV was by the fireplace, which had been well stocked with firewood.

  Gray had secured him after his arrival. He’d gone to the kitchen to make a potion. He’d been stirring for an hour at the stove. Drake could just get a glimpse of him. Gray had said something about a magic inhibiter that would make it easier for Drake to transfer the magic to him.

  Drake had been biding his time. He wanted the artifact almost back to Chloe before he began his escape, just in case. He checked the living room clock. Surely the driver had had enough time to get close to the mountain cabin. He stretched out his fingers. It was time to get things rolling.

  Gray came in and began dripping liquid in all the corners of the room.

  “What are you doing?” The scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and something fouler drifted to Drake’s nose.

  “This will help to facilitate the magical changeover. What is the source of your power? How are you going to give it to me?” Gray had covered all four corners and dripped some in the center of the carpet. Drake yawned again. Rob better have a steam cleaner to get all those stains out.

  “I’m not.”

  Gray’s head came up. “What?”

  Marsters grinned. “I’m not.”

  “But ... but ... you said you would.”

  “I lied, Gray. I do owe you something. I owe you many things, in fact. But you will never get my power.”

  Gray’s face wildly contorted into that of the madman he was. “Bastard. I’m going to fix you.”

  Drake went to pop open the cuffs and unravel the knots. Only he couldn’t. His eyes widened as he tried to push out with his magic. Nothing. Nothing came from him. That had never happened before. What the fuck? “What was in that potion?”

  Gray slapped him hard across the face. “Mushrooms. A shaman I met once upon a time said they would constrict magic with their scent.”

  Shaman had been right. Dammit. Drake strained against the bond that held him. He couldn’t do magic at the moment, nor could he physically break what held him. How long before the effects of the potion wore off?

  This wasn’t good. His hands clenched around the cuffs.

  Gray hit him again. “You will give me your power before you leave this room. Or the only way you’ll leave is in a body bag.” He pulled out several knives from a case by the door.

  Sweat rolled off Drake. He was in a heap of trouble.

  * * * * *

  Chloe peeked into a window on the side of the house. She whispered, “Quit moving around, I can’t see.”

  Tim grunted “Ooff.” He straightened. “Quit squirming up there, and I will. You’re heavy.”

  She lightly tapped his head. “Never tell a woman that.” She was trying to see into the farm house what was going on. First, they had to make sure Drake was in there and hadn’t left. She’d dialed his cell phone and home number umpteen times on the way down from the mountains and gotten no answer. Somehow, she’d known she wouldn’t find him, and that he was with Gray.

  Peering in, she saw Drake was in trouble.

  He was bound. And he looked like Gray had been doing things to him. She swallowed, bile rising up in her throat. Drake had been hit a few times, and cut.

  Like hell that would continue.

  “Let me down.”

  Tim helped her off his shoulders. They quickly ran back to the van. Gray was probably too busy torturing Drake to see them, but she couldn’t be too careful.

  Tim whispered, “Was he there?”

  “Yeah. Gray is hurting him,” she whispered back before shaking her head. They didn’t need to whisper. Why hadn’t Drake used his magic to get free by now, especially before Gray started hurting him? Only one answer came to mind about that. Somehow Gray had disabled it. Shit. Which meant Drake was in deep trouble.

  Tim paled. “What do we do now?”

  Chloe scratched her head. What was she going to do now? She slung her cell phone at Tim. “Call the police. Get them here.” She hadn’t called them before now because it was only a feeling. Damn, she should have listened to it.

  But police would take a while to get there. Drake might not have that much time. She had to stall Gray somehow. She dashed around and opened the van door. She hefted up the totem into her arms.

  “Where are you going with that?” Tim made a move as if to help her.

  She waved him off. “To distract Gray. You just get the police here.” They were words of bravado that she wasn’t sure she had in her. She quietly eased up each step, cursing every creak. She crept to the front door, crouching. Fiddling with the lock, she discovered Gray was a much too trusting soul.

  Taking a deep breath, without much of a plan, she opened the door and stepped into the farmhouse carrying the artifact.

  * * * * *

  Drake swallowed convulsively, finding his center.

  “Tell me the source of your magic.” Gray paced in front of him, snarling. The wounds he’d made so far were superficial. Nothing that would end this anytime soon. Dammit, how long did the effects of the potion last? He tried to shoot out magic again and failed. He couldn’t even make Gray think he’d handed over the magic so he could get free.

  A noise at the door had them both swinging around.

  Chloe stood in the doorway, totem in hand.

  Drake blinked his eyes, trying to make her disappear. She had to be an apparition. A fantasy caused by the pain. Only she didn’t disappear.

  “Well, well, the ex-Mrs. Marsters. How nice of you to join us.”

  “Chloe, no. Run.” Drake managed to get it out before Gray hit him across one of the cuts he’d made. Drake sucked in a breath.

  She winced before putting a sexy expression on her face. “Hello, Drake. Hello, Mr. Gray. Nice to meet you in person.” She sat the totem on the floor.

  What was she up to? And why the hell was she here? Drake swallowed through his dried-out mouth. He tasted the coppery hint of blood.

  “It’s a pleasure. What are you doing here? With that?” Gray waved his hand at the object she held.

  “Oh, this? Well, I told Drake he shouldn’t lie to you. But does he ever listen to me?” She shook her head, hair flying every which way. Her voice had a vapid tone Drake had never heard before. “Never.”

  Rob looked at Drake with a glare. “He lied to me?”

  “Oh, yes. He told me you wanted the source of his magic.” She patted the totem, making a slight thwacking sound. “This is it.”

  Gray’s eyes grew greedy. “It is? I knew it. I knew it had to be the source.”

  “It is. I told Drake, ‘you shouldn’t lie to this guy.’ But he said it
would be a little joke.” She pursed her lips. “I didn’t think it was funny.”

  For the first time, Drake watched Chloe lie and get away with it. He could tell she was lying, but only because he knew her. She was doing a hell of a job. And it was fooling Gray.

  “It’s not.” Gray growled, pulling the butcher knife out. “Sit down, Mrs. Marsters.”

  Chloe’s gaze never wavered, she stared straight at Gray. “My name is Richards. Put down that knife. You’re scaring me.” Her voice sounded quite tremulous as she sat down in a chair across from them by the totem. She shuddered, cowering.

  Drake’s eyes narrowed as he tested his bonds again. She wasn’t as scared as she was pretending to be. Damn, she was going to deserve an Emmy after all this. He’d never seen her do so well at having a poker face.

  “I’m going to be scaring you more as the day goes on, I’m afraid.” Rob looked mock apologetic as he tossed her cuffs. “Put those on. You were already a part of my revenge plans. Just now Marsters will get a chance to see it.” She put them around her wrists but there was no click to indicate they’d locked. Gray didn’t check them. “After he gives me the key to unlock his magical powers.” He turned back to Drake without securing Chloe any further. “Tell me how to use it.”

  Chloe mouthed behind Gray as she slid off the cuffs. “Keep him talking.”

  Drake tried to lick his lips. Oh, yeah, keep Gray talking. He blew out a breath. “It’s complicated.” That was true. As it wasn’t the totem, and it was genetics, it was complicated. Drake began to drone on about magic and stuff he didn’t know what he was saying. He shook his head to clear it. It was heavy. Must rest it. No, he had to get through this first.

  His eyes had kept from seeking out Chloe. So he was as surprised as Gray when the something bashed down on Gray’s head. Gray went down to his knees, she hit him again, and down he went to the floor.

  “Oh, Drake.” She tossed down the piece of wood that had rested by the fireplace and dashed to his side. “I’m so sorry. I was wrong. I love you.”

  The sweetest words he’d heard in a while were surrounded by distant sirens. He attempted to make his mouth form words, but the blackness claimed him before anything came out. I love you, too, Chloe.