by J. E. Cluney
I followed the man down another hall and up a flight of stairs, desperately searching for an exit.
Too bad it seemed like there weren’t any. Surely there had to be one?
I nearly walked right into the back of baldy as he halted before a door on our left.
“Inside,” he instructed as he stepped back.
I narrowed my eyes but stepped in front of him, turning the brass handle and pushing the door open.
The man seated in the luxurious high back office chair behind the desk had the most intense and galaxy-like aura I’d ever seen. Mostly purple, but flecked with golds and blues. Just as intense as Mr Oxley’s, but in a different way.
He had blond hair that was crew cut, and the monocle he wore didn’t quite suit his apparent age as he stood up in a perfectly white suit. I could take a wild guess that that tailored, lavish suit cost multiple times more than my motorbike.
Those startling pastel blue eyes lit up as he welcomed me, his red tie a stark contrast to his white suit.
“Welcome, Savage. I’ve been eager to finally meet you,” he grinned at me.
The door shut behind me and I tried not to let the uneasiness settle over me.
“And you are?” I arched a brow as my eyes rolled over his lean figure.
I had a pretty good idea.
“You can call me the Collector.”
10
Damien.
I sat on the red plush armchair in the study room while Mr Oxley stood off to the side.
Leon and Wes were perched on the edge of their seats on the red couch to my left, while Dominic was laid out on the opposing couch with a witch leaning over him.
“This magic that’s been used on him, this is strong shit,” the woman remarked in her harsh smoker’s voice.
Melinda. A witch Mr Oxley would get in on occasion for help. She was far stronger and more powerful than Dom, but she didn’t click well with the rest of us. But her skill couldn’t be denied.
“What’s the spell?” I asked as I shifted uneasily. My body was still aching like a bitch, but at least most of my injuries were healing up nicely. I was beyond grateful for being part angel right now.
“Controlling spell. He’s tried to fight it, but he’s not strong enough,” Melinda mused, her braided black hair falling over her face as she waved her hand over him. She was wearing jeans and a forest green tank top, and her olive complexion would’ve made her quite a sight back in the day. Too bad smoking and general life had been harsh on her. Now she just looked like a cranky lady from the trailer park who offered the occasional readings.
Wasn’t far from the truth really.
“Can you lift it?” Mr Oxley focused on the main question.
“I can, but I’ll need to battle it with another spell. I need ingredients, so any of these lazy shits up for some legwork?” she clicked her tongue as she thumbed over her shoulder at us.
Yep, she definitely had a way with people.
“Yes, they can, what do you need?” Mr Oxley looked past her atrocious words for the sake of the bigger issue.
She rattled off ingredients, and Mr Oxley nodded and moved to the far desk to jot down a list.
“There are two places that should sell majority of this stuff, put it on my account, Leon, Wes, you two head out,” Mr Oxley said as he scribbled it all down.
“They’ll be open after hours?” Leon checked. It was still dark out.
“Yes, they’ll be open,” Mr Oxley assured him.
“I can go,” I growled.
“You took a bad fall there, you need to recover, Sav will need you in full form when we find her,” he stated.
I gritted my teeth, but his firm words and absolute belief made me relax a little.
Losing Sav was playing hard on my mind. I’d not wanted to lose her, and yet I’d let her slip out of my fingers so easily, and to none other than that wretched hunter.
Savage. My princess. I knew now more than ever that fate had brought us all together. As much as I hadn’t wanted to believe in the whole mates thing, this longing and lacking a piece of myself made it clear. She was our mate, and we needed her back with us. Not knowing where she was, was killing me. I worried about what was happening to her, if she was hurt. I needed to know these things, I needed to find her and whisk her back here to safety. There was still so much for us to share, so much I wanted to do with her.
She wanted to deny having mates, but I knew she was beginning to understand the strength of it and the truth.
Leon and Wesley headed off, casting weary glances back at me. We were all on edge and stressed about Sav.
But there was nothing we could do yet.
Not to mention Tristan. He was probably with her, and once we found her, we found him. He was unique, something a Collector would want. Demon-born were extremely rare just like kitsunes.
But I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe we were wrong in that belief.
What if the hunters had him?
Mr Oxley had assured us neither of them were dead as we were all bonded and we’d know. But I felt uneasy about Tristan. We should be looking for him too.
“Can you track hunters?” I blurted, and Mr Oxley gave me a quick look.
“If they’re not warded. Not many know how to ward themselves against tracking spells. It’s not something lesser witches know how to do. They can track, but not assist in warding. Why?” Melinda’s growly voice made me believe the question bothered her.
Hell, everything bothered the old witch.
“Tristan got taken,” I said. It was obvious he wasn’t just missing. He’d made no contact, so he had to have been taken too.
“That demon-born?” Melinda clucked her tongue. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“What if he isn’t?” I asked, flicking my eyes to Mr Oxley. He looked perplexed by this.
“Tristan is warded against tracking,” Mr Oxley murmured.
“Yes, but the hunters aren’t. Leon healed Jackson, Sav’s adopted hunter brother. He’ll have some of his life essence in him now. Angel grace.”
“Well, I can track some angel grace, I’ve done it before when your brother needed me to check up on that blind gentleman for him. The lucky guy had not relapsed, stayed healed despite how it had been permanent blindness since birth,” Melinda mused.
“Thank you,” I sighed.
“No way to tell if the demon-born is there though,” she shrugged.
“That is quite all right, I can ascertain that,” Mr Oxley nodded.
“Well, those boys will take a while, I’ve got everything I need for such a simple tracking spell. Angel grace gives off a unique signal, ever since Leon came to me for help that time, I’ve been able to easily hone in on it. Has he healed anyone else recently?” she asked as she sat back on the coffee table.
“No, just him,” I said, scowling as my back ached badly.
“Good. Not many other signs of angel grace. Angels keep themselves tucked away,” Melinda said as she rummaged through her ugly leather messenger bag with strange bones as keychains.
Angels. They were incredibly difficult to find. We knew that. Leon and I had searched for our father for years after being abandoned by our mother as young teens. She was a werewolf, but our angel sides were starting to show, and she panicked. We were then abandoned, but we survived by shifting into wolves. We knew what we were, it was like someone had switched a light on in our heads and told us what we truly were. So then we started searching. Mr Oxley found us some years later, and he tried to help us seek out whoever our father was, but angels are not easy creatures to track down. We eventually gave up, accepting what we were and finding a purpose for ourselves in bounty hunting and healing.
Melinda tossed some bones on the table, and I scrunched up my nose at them. Human bones. I didn’t want to know how the old hag had gotten the knuckle bones and finger bones, but a few severed hands of her enemies came to mind.
She chanted as she waved her hand over them, a faint purple glow being e
mitted.
Dominic was still out cold on the couch, but we had him restrained with magic dampening cuffs just to be safe.
The bones trembled and rolled around, and I raised an eyebrow as they formed a line and then scattered.
“Got a pen and paper,” she croaked, her brow furrowed and her lips pulled tight. Her eyes had glassed over, and Mr Oxley offered her a pen and paper.
She scribbled down an address and handed it back.
“Done, you’ll find your hunter boy there. Hopefully your demon-born is with him,” she said as she clapped her hands together and sighed. She packed her bones back into a little container and tossed them in her bag as she looked over at me curiously.
“So, you boys are mated now huh? What supe chose ya?” she asked as she chewed her cheek. It was clear she was desperate for a smoke, but she dare not pull a cigarette out in Mr Oxley’s home.
“Kitsune,” Mr Oxley answered for me.
“Hmm, interesting. Be careful, I hear the Collectors are getting more frantic to gather them up now. Guess that’s where you think she might be though, right?” Melinda looked to Mr Oxley for confirmation. He gave her a gentle nod.
“Well, good luck getting her back. I’ll help ya with this one, but then I’m out. I’m not getting mixed up in the affairs of Collectors,” she said bluntly.
“We understand, thank you,” Mr Oxley bowed his head softly to her.
She gave him a sly smirk before looking back at me.
As if she knew something I didn’t.
Mr Oxley read over the address she’d handed him, then nodded at me before he headed out of the room.
He’d find out if Tristan was with the hunters or not.
Now all I had to do was wait for the others to return with the ingredients for the spell to break the one on Dominic.
I hated waiting.
11
Tristan.
I crept up the stairs with Jackson in tow, my body aching profusely from being strung up for hours and being carved into and burned.
Nothing I wouldn’t recover from.
The steps creaked under us, and Jackson froze. I continued onward, not caring if some of them awoke. I’d recovered enough that I could fight now. And I was pissed off.
We reached the bolted door, and I cursed inwardly. Should’ve kept the girl around.
I closed my eyes, exploring the house for something to use.
The rat trying to steal pizza from a pizza box in the kitchen became my new vessel.
It dropped the pizza and scampered down the hall to the bolted door.
“What do we do now, Sherlock?” Jackson growled softly.
I ignored him as I used the rat, climbing up onto the small table beside the bolted door and staring up at the bolt. This would take some serious work in this tiny body. Hell, almost impossible.
“Tristan?” Jackson growled.
“I’m working on it,” I hissed.
New plan.
The rat leaped down off the table, scurrying into the nearest room.
I smirked as Sean lay on the dingy mattress on the floor, his shirt unbuttoned and his arm over his face.
The tattoo on his chest caught my attention. It was one of the known tattoos to prevent possession. But all seals could be broken.
And Sean was someone I wanted dead.
I scampered over, my tiny feet almost soundless as I reached his mattress and climbed on.
I had to do this quick and then get this little vessel away from him. I couldn’t help that I didn’t want the little rat to get hurt. He was only doing my bidding.
Definitely a he too when I glanced back and saw the balls.
Fuck, my balls were huge! Our balls. Whatever. Why on earth were they the same size as its head? That was some weird shit.
I focused back on the task at hand, trying not to imagine what it would be like if my real balls were the size of my head.
I leaped onto Sean’s chest, rousing him from his deep sleep as he mumbled and coughed.
My sharp little teeth bit into his flesh, tearing through the tattoo as he went to scream.
I slipped into his mind instantly, halting the shout before it woke up the entire house.
I shooed my little rat off, domineering Sean instead as he screamed inside his own mind.
He was getting what he deserved.
He stood up, and we headed out to the basement door and unbolted it.
“Sean!” Jackson hissed, but I held a hand up to him.
“It’s me, dickhead,” Sean and I both rolled our eyes.
“How?” Jackson whispered, but then his eyes dropped to the bloody tattoo on his chest.
“Rat bite, how unfortunate,” I snickered as I moved Sean aside.
The three of us headed through the house quietly, peeking into other rooms and checking our exits.
We chose to slip out the back door, every treacherous step making me wonder if someone was going to come upon us.
But we stepped out into the cool night air, and I sighed as the moon shone down on me in all its glory.
We were out.
“What about him?” Jackson flicked his head back at Sean.
“I’ll deal with him. We’ll take the black truck over the back,” I instructed as I indicated to the said truck. The only one I hadn’t sabotaged. “The keys are in the center console too. I saw them.”
“They’ll hear it start up,” Jackson said with his mouth pulled into a grim line.
“But they can’t follow. I already sabotaged all their cars,” I informed him.
He gave me a shocked look, which morphed to one of admiration and glee. Guess he had a mild dark streak too.
We headed over to the black truck, and I wondered how best to deal with Sean.
Make him slice his own neck open? Hang himself?
No. I knew the best way to kill a fucktard like him.
I made Sean head back into the house and into the kitchen while Jackson and I climbed into the unlocked truck.
Sean found the butcher’s knife on the counter, and I made him drop his pants despite how he fought me mentally.
Sorry Sean, you shouldn’t have been such a dick.
The truck started up, and the man snoozing at the dining table with his head bowed over his chest stirred, his eyes falling on Sean.
“What are you doing?” he slurred as he blinked through his grogginess.
“Sean has been a bad boy,” Sean and I muttered.
I then hacked off his dick without a second thought, making sure to drag the blade up his inner thigh to get the femoral artery.
I left his body quickly, the excruciating pain even making my true body spasm.
I now sat in the truck with Jackson as he skidded out onto the dirt road.
I grinned to myself as Jackson gave me a bewildered look.
“What did you just do?” he asked, having caught my spasm.
“Sean lost his dick,” I shrugged.
“Wait, what? You made him cut his own dick off?!” Jackson’s eyes bugged out of his head.
“He had it coming,” I stated as I settled back into my seat. I needed some shut eye, but I was not about to trust this hunter around me while I was sleeping.
“That’s sick as fuck,” Jackson said, completely disgusted.
“Should’ve seen what’s going on in his head. He wanted to fuck Sav before killing her. He’s raped a lot of the girls he supposedly saved from supes too,” I informed him. It was strange, when you possessed someone, you could dip into their darkest thoughts and desires, see their truths.
“What?” Jackson couldn’t believe it as he stared hard at the road.
“Some girls, when he saved them during hunts, he’d force himself on them even though they fought him. He was not a good guy,” I filled him in. There was no need to feel bad about his death at all. He definitely deserved it.
Especially for his thoughts about my mate.
I’d fuck up anyone who so much as thought about hurting her.<
br />
Too bad I hadn’t found Thomas on the way through the house.
I wanted to kill him too, but I was unsure how Sav would feel about that. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a rift between us.
Hell, my main focus was on finding her now.
And the best way to do that would be to find the others. Guess we were heading home.
I glanced at Jackson, not too keen to bring him into our warded zone. I’d have to grant him permission to enter, as humans needed permission to enter our warded zones and retain their memory.
Did I trust him enough for that?
For Sav’s sake, maybe I had to.
“Where are we going?” Jackson asked.
“Home. We need help to find Sav,” I sighed. “But stop at the nearest gas station so we can use a payphone. I need to let them know what’s going on first.”
I hated that those hunters had destroyed our phones first thing so we couldn’t be tracked. At least they couldn’t get all the data off mine. Mine was spelled, so humans couldn’t get any information off it. Even Sav’s phone had been spelled now with Dom’s help. We didn’t need any hunters finding out about us.
“So you think a Collector has her?” Jackson queried.
“It makes the most sense. But I’ll check in with the others to see what their thoughts are.”
“They’re going to be fine with me involved?” he asked carefully, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.
“You only want her safe, right?” I said as I looked over at him lazily.
“Of course,” he said instantly. I could read him easily, even if he thought others couldn’t. He loved her.
And that was enough for me. I’d trust him to help us get her back, because even if we didn’t trust one another about anything else, I truly believed he wanted the best for Sav.
“They’ll get over it, I’ll vouch for you,” I said as turned on the heat.
I could feel him looking at me as I stared out the window.
“Thanks.”
12
So this was the big bad Collector.
This guy looked like I could own his ass easily. But that intense aura made me not go with that assumption.