Wraith (Debt Collector 10) Read Online Free Page B

eventually. It only speeds the process in people who would heal anyway. Life energy certainly doesn’t “focus” on anything.
    “I agree, it’s impossible.” The smile on Madam A’s face beams in the dim light. “And yet, one by one, he is curing them.”
    Is this Lirium character flat-out scamming Madam A? The rational part of my mind insists that’s highly unlikely—Madam A’s savvy, and if he was some kind of quack, he would already have one of her bullets in his body. But if he’s not a fake, then he’s figured out how to do something I hadn’t even dreamed was possible. He’s not just moving energy around—a sordid trafficker in life like every other debt collector—he’s doing something actually good with this horrific power we’ve been cursed with.
    A pang of jealousy rips through me.
    “I can still use your help, Wraith.” Madam A is eyeing me now.
    My raw jealousy is slicing my insides, but I nod. “Even if he’s curing them, I can still give them a boost. I’ve brought some with me. I can pay out now, help them along their way.” My mind is spinning. That would relieve me of my burden tonight. But if the kids’ numbers are dwindling, and this Lirium guy is taking care of the ones left, then I’ll need to find a new place to pay out. It’s not like this city is lacking for people in need, but Madam A’s was safe. A place where my secret could stay kept.
    “I was hoping for something a little different.” Madam A’s still studying me. “Lirium has the skills to do this work. You have the life energy. If you transfer to him instead—”
    “What?” I lean away from her.
    “I know you’re not fond of interaction with other debt collectors, Wraith—”
    “I don’t interact. Ever.” The mere idea of it brings up a sour taste at the back of my throat. Debt collectors killed my father. My mother, too, even though that was a long time ago. Objectively, I know Lirium wasn’t one of those collectors. But it doesn’t matter. I want nothing to do with them. Any of them. And I’m certainly not going to pay out to one.
    “Wraith…”
    “I’ll pay out to the kids.” My voice hikes up and echoes around the church’s hard-polished floors and white-plastered walls. “But I’m not going anywhere near him.”
    “I was afraid you might say that.” She looks disappointed. In me. And that’s more than my stomach can take. The life energy sloshing around inside me, haunting me with its stolen lives and splintered souls, needs to go somewhere. The torment stirs up a sudden, desperate need to get out of Madam A’s brothel. Before I heave out the contents of my stomach or find a way to vent the burden from my veins. I have to go somewhere, find someplace to pay out that’s safe. That doesn’t involve debt collectors. Somewhere I can think clearly about what I’m going to do from now on… now that the one good thing in my life, the one way I can pay for the sin of who I am, has suddenly be taken away.
    “I have to go.” I turn and rush down the stairs. My soft-soled boots slap against the steps, announcing my retreat in no uncertain terms. I shove my way through the door to Grace’s room and tear out the back. I forget the three steps on the stoop and tumble down them, falling until my face smacks the pavement. Pain shoots up my leg as my wounded shin scrapes the filthy alleyway. Tears blur my vision, pierced only by the electric white light of the streetlamp. My stomach heaves, once, twice, but nothing comes out. The night air is slightly cooler, giving me some instant relief from Madam A’s brothel-turned-hospice… and now miracle cure center.
    A place I no longer belong.
    The need to pay out grows stronger knowing that I can’t. It’s a volcano trapped inside me, slowly building to a pressure that’s going to blow me apart. I crawl up to my hands and knees. I’m plastered in muck, all over my hands and suit and face. The nearby junkie rustles under his box, turning over and