The Collector (20 page)

Chapter Forty

Secrets

My heart lunges as I move past the woman and pull Max up.

“It’s fine. He fell,” I tell her. “Go back to your room.”

“But—” she starts.

“Go back to your room,” I say, louder.

I sling Max’s arm around my shoulders and help him walk back to my room. When he moans about a killer headache, I know he’s going to be fine. We’re immortal, but it’ll still take time to heal.

Inside my bathroom, I sit him on the toilet lid, wet a towel, and push it into his hand. He presses it to his head.

“You okay?” I ask.

He nods, then smiles. “Look how scared you are. You totally love me.”

I shake my head, but he’s right. Seeing him busted up scares the crap out of me. “What happened?”

He pulls the towel away, inspects it, then pushes it back to his head. “I don’t know. I just got knocked the hell out.”

“With a fire extinguisher?” I soak another towel and hand it to him, but he pushes it away.

“Guess so. Maybe I hooked up with some dude’s girlfriend or something.”

My jaw clenches. “Who tracked you down at the Wink?” I pause, watching him. “Do you…do you sense another collector besides me right now?”

He gives me a surprised look, then narrows his eyes in concentration. “No,” he says finally. “You think one of our own did this?”

I hesitate, then nod.

Max pulls the towel away, and I glance at his head. Already the wound has stopped bleeding.

I lean against the doorway, take a deep breath, and fill Max in on everything. Big Guy’s liberator. Trelvator. The collector following me. I leave out the part about me falling for Charlie and that I’m planning to go against orders.

Max whistles when I’m done talking. “Damn.”

“Right.”

“So you think this a-hole collector hit me tonight because I’m bros with you?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t really understand his deal. All I know is, it’s getting worse.”

Max cocks his head, thinking. “I guess I did sense a collector when I was in the stairwell, but figured it was you since I was still so near your room. You know we can’t really pinpoint how
many
collectors are nearby.”

“So you can’t think who would be tailing me out of our team?”

He shakes his blood-caked head. “Not at all. I mean, everyone worships you downstairs. You’re Boss Man’s
numero uno
. But then who else could it be?” Max crosses his ankle over his knee, and his eyes fall to his cuff. “Sometimes I really hate this thing.”

I consider telling Max what I know and realize I have nothing to lose at this point. “Max,” I say, “I know how we got these cuffs.”

His eyes bulge. “What are you talking about? No one knows where these things came from.”

“Boss Man explained it while training me for my new position as Soul Director.”

I motion for Max to follow me out of the bathroom. We move into the room, and he sits across from me on the other bed. I fold my hands together and try to retell the story as I heard it. “Did you know that, back in the day, Boss Man was a high angel for Big Guy?”

Max laughs a quick, dry laugh.

“I’m taking it you weren’t a churchgoer before you died, either.”

“Uh, no. That’s kinda how I got this gig.”

“Right,” I say. “Okay, well, Boss Man used to work for Big Guy. But one day he decides he doesn’t appreciate the attention Big Guy gives to humankind. Boss Man feels like that attention should be on
him
. So in a jealous fit, he decides to overtake Big Guy, figures he’d look pretty awesome sitting on Big Guy’s throne. So he gets together with these other angels on earth, where they can conspire unheard, and plots to overthrow Big Guy.”

“No shit?” Max interrupts.

I nod. “So as Boss Man is plotting, he asks one of his comrades to fashion him a crown. That way he can wear it as soon as he’s ruler. But he doesn’t just want any crown, he wants one to rival Big Guy’s. So his comrade spends days seeking these particular sheets of gold, known to angels as
dargon
. It’s said that there are only two sheets of dargon in existence, and that Big Guy fashioned them when he created the world. They were meant to be used for a crown and throne for the future son he knew he’d have. Well, eventually Boss Man’s comrade gets his hands on one of the sheets of gold, but before he can fashion it into a crown, Big Guy finds out about Boss Man’s plan and tosses him and the other angels into hell.”

“So Boss Man never got his crown,” Max repeats.

“No, he didn’t get his crown. But he did make it out with a stolen piece of dargon.”

“So…what does that mean?”

“Well, after Big Guy learns about his angels plotting against him, he pulls every last one of them off earth and back into heaven. He decides that the only being who can step foot on earth again is his son—the person wearing the crown.”

“I think I know where this is going,” Max says, his face twisting with awe.

“Yeah. Right. Because Boss Man had stolen a sheet of dargon, he was able to walk the earth, too. But Boss Man was all vengeful, and he wanted payback. So he took his dargon, and he created six cuffs and chose six collectors to steal souls from Big Guy—figured he could do more damage that way.

“Now Boss Man just ensures he always has the cuffs on his best six people, those who had particular skills on earth.” I shake my head. “Not sure what’s better, working as a collector or retiring in hell.”

Max glances down between his shoes. “Why don’t they want us to know about this?”

“I think…” I say. “I think because Boss Man doesn’t want to appear weak to his collectors. Like, he doesn’t want us knowing that Big Guy tossed him out on his ass like that.”

“So you think Big Guy knows about us?” Max asks.

I think for a second. “Yeah, he knows. I think he’s known all along. But now he’s creating his own collectors—the liberators. And I think Boss Man knows he’s on Big Guy’s radar. That’s why we’re not allowed to hurt humans, because Big Guy would bring war, and Boss Man isn’t strong enough to take him.”

Max touches his head and checks his hand to see if there’s blood. “The cuffs. They’re why other collectors and Boss Man can sense where we are when we’re close by, right?”

I nod.

“And they’re also why we can shadow?”

I run my tongue over my teeth. “Yeah, I think so. I often wondered if…you know…we can do other things that we don’t know about.”

“Dude,” Max says. “Me, too. I always feel like I have big stuff bottled up, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Max lets out a long sigh, and his face pulls together, like he just thought of something. “Why do you think Boss Man wants Charlie so bad? I mean, other than avoiding the whole peace-on-earth thing.”

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

He turns and faces me. “Have you heard of the soul scales?”

“The gauge thing?” I tick my finger back and forth.

“Yeah. The whole thing where if either side gets too many more souls than the other, heaven or hell will break open, and all the angels or demons will spill out onto Earth?”

I stand up. “Holy crap. Charlie. She’s going to sway the scales. Max, you’re a genius.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’s totally where I was going with that.”

It makes sense. If Charlie can really bring a hundred years of peace, it could turn the tides for heaven. But she could still do that through her charity without a soul, couldn’t she? Which means Boss Man may be trying to claim her soul before taking more extreme measures. Maybe collecting her is just the first step.

“But why would Big Guy even want that?” Max asks. “He doesn’t want angels on earth anymore.”

“No,” I say. “That was then. Things are different now. His new liberator is proof of that.”

“So if Charlie lives, she’ll be the reason angels can walk earth without dargon.”

My breath catches, and a bolt of fear shoots through me. “And if she dies…”

Max’s face whitens. “Oh, man. If she dies, does that mean hell may eventually gain the advantage? Like, without her, we’re headed toward a world where demons walk freely?” His eyes gloss over. “Boss Man is going to try and kill her, isn’t he?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is right now he’s focused on collecting her.” I turn to Max. It’s time he knows. It’s now or never. “I’m not going to let him have her soul, and I’m definitely not going to let him hurt her.”

He physically pulls back like someone gut-punched him. “Dante,” he says. “You’re talking about treason.”

I hold his eyes and nod once, a quick acknowledgement.

Max stands and moves toward the door in a daze. He spins around and faces me, his skin pale. “I can’t hear this. I can’t…I can’t know this.” He reaches up and absently touches his head. “He’ll send us after you. You’re my best friend, and I’ll be forced to hunt you. And when the collectors find you—and you know they will—they’ll drag you back downstairs, and Boss Man… He’ll torture you, Dante. You’ve seen what happens down there. He’ll put you through every part of hell and deposit you in the ninth circle. I mean, what are you even thinking? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

I square my shoulders and raise my head higher. This is the first of many challenges I’ll have to face over the next thousand or more years. If I can’t have conviction before my best friend, I don’t stand a chance. “I won’t get caught.”

His face falls to the side, and his eyebrows pull together. “You will,” he says gently.

I turn away, because I know he could be right. Behind me, I can feel his eyes burning into my back. “She’s worth it, Max.”

His words boom when he speaks again. “You’re wrong. She’s not worth my best friend. I don’t care what kind of peace she’ll bring if it means seeing you imprisoned.”

I turn and take two long strides toward him. “You don’t see what I see. You don’t know how freaking pure she is in here.” I jab myself in the chest. “I know we’re trained to only care about ourselves. But if you felt what I do right now, you’d have to try and protect her.” My voice drops. “I can’t lose any part of her, Max. I don’t expect you to understand that.”

My friend’s jaw tightens, and his eyes lock on mine. “Don’t act like I don’t know about loss. You may find this hard to believe, but I had love once.” He nods. “Yeah, I had a girl. She was my everything. Her hair, her skin.” He touches his neck and, catching himself, quickly drops his hand. “We were going to get married, man. Married.” Max loosens his jaw and works it back and forth. “But she died.”

“Max,” I say, because I don’t know what else
to
say.

He shrugs. “So yeah, I know about losing people. And if it meant fighting the king of hell himself to bring her back, I would. But she’s gone. And Charlie, she’ll be gone one day, too. And you’ll be locked down there. With him. So don’t do this. Finish the assignment, and get your placement on earth. Then you can spend every day with her until—”

“Until she dies, or he kills her off, and she takes my place in hell?” I interrupt. “Max, I’m so sorry about what happened to you. No one should have to lose the person they care about, which is why I have to fight for her.” I move closer to Max and slap him on the shoulder. “I can run. Faster than you can imagine. I can protect her soul, and I can keep one step ahead of the collectors.” I smile. “Even you.”

Max backs away. “I’ve already lost my girl.”

I know what he means. He’s lost her. He can’t lose me, too. But he’s not going to say that. Saying it makes it real. Part of me wants to scream for Max to stay, for him to help me protect Charlie. But I can’t ask that of him. I can’t ask him to risk eternal pain and suffering for someone he doesn’t know. So instead, I rush across the room, pull him into a hug, and slap his back hard. “I love you, Max. Now get the hell out of here. I can take care of myself.” I give him the best smile I got, the one that says I’m confident and self-assured and can tackle Lucifer with my bare hands.

Max’s eyes water, and he rubs them roughly, like he’s pissed off at his body’s reaction. “Screw you, man.”

I smile and raise my middle finger. “Right back at ya.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Then he opens the door, glances over his shoulder, and nods good-bye.

Chapter Forty-one

Charlie Out

I wake up feeling like I spent the last three days in a massage parlor. My muscles are relaxed, and I feel refreshed, like I could climb Mount Everest or build an ark or cure the world of minivans.

Then I glance at the clock on the nightstand.

Noon.

I’ve had a standing wake-up call set for every day, but I’m guessing I slept through it. Not surprising, since Max didn’t leave until almost 4:00
a.m.
Thinking about my best friend, my heart clenches. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. And if I do, if he’ll be chasing me down with a pitchfork.

I climb out of bed and pull on a T-shirt, jeans, and my red sneakers. Then I half-jog to Elizabeth Taylor and speed toward Centennial High.

One goal has my attention this morning, and that’s finding Charlie. I’ve got to get her alone so I can explain everything in a way that doesn’t make her hate me. Maybe I can tell her Big Guy has changed his mind on the contract, and that he’ll be pissed if she asks for any more beauty. Maybe that way I can avoid telling her what I really am.

I pull up outside the school and make my way inside right as Charlie’s lunch hour starts. Perfect. I won’t even have to drag her out of class. Nearing her table, I realize Annabelle is the only one there. I glance around, searching for Charlie or Blue, and see neither.

Annabelle’s stops eating her chips when she sees me. “Hey.”

“Where is everyone?” I ask. “Why are you sitting alone?”

She takes a swig of her drink. “Charlie bailed.”

“Bailed? What do you mean ‘bailed’? Like she skipped school?”

Annabelle bobs her head from side to side. “Kind of. She came for the first half, then just a few minutes ago, she said she wasn’t feeling it and that there were too many people.”

“Too many people? What does that even mean?” My brain isn’t able to process this information. Charlie never ditches. Someone always has to talk her into it, that someone usually being me. “Did she leave with someone?”

“Yeah, she left with Natalie. The girl that asked Charlie about her hair that time. Remember?”

I think back, trying to place the girl’s face. I remember she was hot and reeked of money and popularity, which is why I don’t understand why she’d ask Charlie to skip with her.

Annabelle seems to read my mind, because she says, “Something about Charlie is off today. I mean, even this morning. It’s like she came to school this whole different person, like she’s trying to prove something.”

The way she’s talking makes me nervous. I don’t know what’s gotten into Charlie, but I need to find her. Stat. “Do you know where she went?”

She shakes her head. “No, but Blue went with her.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. I’m not sure whether to feel better or worse that Blue’s with her. I decide on worse. I run a hand through my hair and think. Peachville isn’t big, but it’s big enough to hide in.

“Don’t you see?” Annabelle says, interrupting my thoughts. She tilts her head and stares up at me. “That girl’s lost her head to you.”

I look at her for a long time, like she just grew a third eye—one that sees right through my crap. My chest constricts, and inside, buried deep beneath skin and bone and muscle, I pray what she says is true. That Charlie has fallen for me. It’s a selfish wish, because it’ll be easier to keep her safe with a level head. But I can’t help the jig my heart performs at hearing Annabelle’s words. If they are, in fact, true.

“Thanks, Annabelle. Seriously.” I start to move away, ready to jump in my car and drive all over Peachville if that’s what it takes to find Charlie. But Annabelle surprises me by reaching over and grabbing my wrist.

“She’s going to a party tonight. At Natalie’s house. Near Preston and Parker, I think.” She lets go of me. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her, Dante, but you better make it right. Understand?” With that, she gets up and walks away, and I can’t help thinking she had that speech and dramatic exit planned in case I showed today.

Still, she’s right. I need to make this right. I’m just not sure how. An orange-and-black-clad table catches my eye. I glance over to see people crowded around, buying tickets to the Halloween dance tomorrow night. Inwardly, I sigh. But I know it’s not going to get better dragging my feet.

I make my way over and wait my turn to shell out sixty bucks for a pair of tickets to the last thing I’d ever like to do. Then I shoot the student council chick beaming at me a mocking grin and stuff the tickets into my pocket. Maybe this will help win Charlie over—a gesture of the things I’m willing to do to make her happy. With any luck, she’ll agree we can’t actually go, that we’ve got to get as far away from Peachville as quickly as possible.

Two days. That’s all I have left after today before Boss Man calls my assignment a bust. Will he send the other collectors in? That is, the ones not already stalking me?

I hop inside Elizabeth Taylor and spend the next three hours searching for Charlie. I swing by her house, I walk around inside the mall…I even go by the town square and glance though all the restaurant windows. For the first time in my life, I curse myself for not having a cell phone, and I curse Grams for not getting Charlie one. If I wasn’t about to go on the run, I’d get one of those smartphones that people hunch over all day like shitting dogs.

When I’ve looked everywhere I can think of, I decide to circle back by her house. If she’s not there, I’ll have to wait it out until the party. Pulling up beside the curb, I kill the engine and walk to the door. I knock several times, then ring the doorbell an ungodly number of times. If there’s anyone in there, they’ve got the temperament of a coma patient.

I back up a few steps and glance up at her window. It’s obvious no one’s home, but I decide to check if her window’s open. Maybe I can leave her a note to call the hotel. I scale up the lattice and nearly scream a victory cry when the glass of her window slides up beneath my palm. Though I’m thrilled it’s open, it also makes me nervous. I don’t like thinking of Charlie being so exposed.

Inside her room, I search for anything that might clue me on where she is, but I can’t tell if anything’s different. It’s strange being in here without her. A sense of longing twists through me when I look at her bed. I remember holding hands, jumping on the mattress like a couple of idiots. Thinking back, I should have known it then, known she was working her way under my skin. It’s no wonder she was born to change the world, seeing how easily she changed me.

I feel desperate to see her. Even though I saw her briefly last night, it wasn’t enough. There are things I need to tell her, but that’s not the only reason. I just want to be close to her again. Opening her nightstand drawer, I find a pen and paper and write out a quick message:

Charlie, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. It’s regarding the thing we signed. Call me at Wink Hotel. I’ll be waiting.

I stare at the note and try to decide how to sign my name.
Dante? Love, Dante? Obsessed with you, Dante?
I feel like a freakin’ twelve-year-old, like I’m seconds away from zits and wet dreams.

Shaking my head, I decide on: —
D

Folding up the note, I lay it on her pillow. Then I decide that’s too creepy and move it to the dresser. Then back to the pillow. I let out a frustrated groan, because I’m getting on my own nerves.

It’s time to leave
, I realize. Because being caught in her room really would make me a creeper. I’m moving toward the window when something catches my eye. There are two tin cans near the wall next to her bed. Narrowing my eyes, I walk toward them, then bend down.

Sherwin-Williams. One can of primer, one can of red paint. My hands ball into fists. I should be happy she’s doing this. She told me herself she wanted to repaint her room. I wonder if Blue knows she’s repainting her room. I wonder if he’s asking if she wants a ride to the party tonight. I wonder if he knows what being strangled feels like.

Sliding her window open, I steal one last look around her room. Then I crawl out and climb down. There’s nothing else I can do now. I’ve got to get back to Wink Hotel and wait for a call that may never come—while Charlie’s out there…changing.