Wraith (Debt Collector 10) Read Online Free Page A

mouth.
    “I’m back in it, so I guess it’s going well.”
    “I assume your personal business has been taken care of?” She arches an eyebrow again. Madam A doesn’t know my father died, much less who he is or what he does. Did. Past tense. Because being the daughter of the most famous anti-debt-collector activist in California doesn’t mix well with being an actual collector myself.
    “I’m sorry my personal business took me away for so long.” I’m genuinely apologetic for my absence from the kids and Madam A’s work. “A loss in the family hit me pretty hard. But I’m back now.”
    “That’s good to hear, Wraith. But many things have changed while you were gone.” Her voice holds a hint of warning. “You will notice we have fewer children now.”
    “That seems like a good thing.” I peer down. That other debt collector, Lirium, is sitting with one of the children, but he’s not transferring to her. I don’t usually get involved with the kids—it’s too heartbreaking to watch them die, again and again—but I do know their faces. I don’t recognize the little girl with the long brown hair and big eyes.
    “That good thing is putting me out of business,” Madam A says.
    “What do you mean?” I shoot a look to her.
    She’s got a smile on her face. “Perhaps you saw it on the news?”
    I frown and shake my head. I haven’t watched the news in weeks. At first, it was the coverage of the murder that was too difficult... then everything was too much to take. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”
    Madam A nods. “Then you missed the story about a rogue psych officer who was using debt collectors to prey on sick children and cash them out illegally.”
    “Wait…” I vaguely remember that story making waves at the office. “Was that the Agency scandal?” The vast corruption in the government’s Debt Collector Agency was an article of faith with my father, so the story didn’t exactly shock me. And of course I knew someone was illegally cashing out kids due to my involvement with Madam A’s work. It’s a measure of how deep I was in the darkness that I didn’t connect the two.
    She lifts her chin, gesturing toward the debt collector below. “Lirium exposed them. We haven’t had a new patient since.”
    “That is good news.” Good for the kids, without question. But it leaves me high and dry. I drag my pinched look up to meet her cool stare. “I guess you don’t need me anymore, then.” The roiling in my stomach steps up a notch, and a bit of panic crawls up my back. I definitely should have checked with Madam A before I collected.
    “Perhaps,” she says, meeting my stare. “Or perhaps you can work with Lirium to cure those who remain.”
    “I don’t work with other debt collectors,” I say automatically. She knows this. I’ve already made it clear in my previous visits that I have no desire to cross paths with any other collectors. “Wait… did you say cure?”
    She smiles and throws a glance below. Lirium has edged closer to the girl on the cot, and now he’s placing his hand on her wrist. The transfer is invisible to any observing party, but it’s easy enough to see the glow spreading on both their faces.
    “This collector,” Madam A says, approvingly, “has an ability I’ve never seen before. He can focus the life energy so that it doesn’t just wash through the body, but stays right where it is most needed.”
    I stare at him. “That’s… not possible.” I’ve paid out to hundreds of kids. It brightens their cheeks. It gives them a fighting chance, strengthening their bodies to fight their disease. But one thing I know about life energy is that it dissipates. It spreads throughout the body, rejuvenating every cell. Giving life energy to a dying child is like filling a leaky bucket—you can temporarily fill the bucket, but if you don’t plug the holes with an actual medical cure, it will simply leak away. Paying out can’t cure something that won’t fix itself