Chapter 5 #2
We found Zoe huddled near the cemetery gates, clutching what looked like an old leather journal. She was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. She didn’t look older than seventeen. Her expression was the kind of wide-eyed terror that came from realizing you'd bitten off way more than you could chew.
"Thank the gods you came," she said as we approached. "I tried to leave, but every time I get more than a few feet from the gate, something pulls me back."
"What exactly were you trying to do?" Dea asked gently. Her empathy helped calm panicked civilians.
"I was following instructions from my grandmother's journal," Zoe replied, holding up the worn leather book. "She wrote about communicating with the spirits of dead family members. I thought if I could reach her..."
"What happened instead?" I asked, cutting her off. We didn’t need to know what she wanted from her grandmother.
"Something else answered. It felt empty and hungry. It started pulling at me, like it wanted to crawl inside and wear me like a jacket." Zoe shuddered. "I managed to break the connection, but I can feel it watching me."
Dre pulled protective charms from her bag. "Did this thing say anything to you?"
"It called itself the Collector." Zoe's voice dropped to a whisper. "It said it had been waiting for someone from my family to call out. That we owed it a debt."
The Collector had to be the same entity we'd been tracking through corrupted ritual sites and guardian disappearances. "We need to get her to safety," I said to my sisters. "Now."
As we turned to leave, the temperature around us dropped sixty degrees or more faster than you could say, ‘oh, shit’. The familiar oily sensation of a malevolent supernatural presence rolled over us in waves. "It’s too late," Adèle projected from home. "It's coming."
The thing that materialized near the cemetery's central monument wasn't exactly a ghost. It had a vaguely human shape but wasn’t one. Its eyes burned with intelligence, and when it spoke, its voice sounded like grinding bone.
"The child called to us," it said, focusing its attention on Zoe with predatory intensity. "She offered herself as a vessel. We will collect what was promised."
"Like hell you will," I snarled, stepping between Zoe and the entity while my sisters formed a semi-circle in front of us.
The Collector's laugh was the sound of tomb doors creaking open. "You cannot protect them all, little witches. The barriers weaken. The binding fails. Soon, we will collect every soul that owes us payment."
"What payment?" Dea demanded as she palmed a potion that she had created to banish ghosts.
"The families that bound us used the deaths of our vessels as their power source," the entity replied. "Every guardian, every descendant of those who participated in our imprisonment, owes us a life. We will collect them all before we claim our freedom."
Turning to Zoe, I gestured to the book in her hand. "Is there anything about the Collector in there?"
Zoe flipped through the journal with shaking hands.
"Yes," she said, pointing to a passage written in faded ink.
"This page is titled the Collector of Souls.
It says the Collector was bound during the yellow fever epidemic.
If the veil between worlds was ever damaged, it would seek freedom using the recently dead as vessels. "
"Baron Samedi's hurricane damaged that veil," Phi said unnecessarily.
The Collector's form solidified further. It was feeding off something. "The storm presented an opportunity. Each soul we collect makes us stronger. Each guardian bloodline that falls weakens the binding further."
"You’ll never get free," I said firmly as Lia pulled the medallion we'd taken from our earlier zombie attacker. "We know you're using corrupted gris-gris bags and possessing shopkeepers to do your dirty work."
The entity's attention focused on the medallion with unmistakable hunger. "Our servants are... limited. The veil still holds us partially bound. But each anchor we corrupt, each guardian we collect, brings us closer to full manifestation."
"Anchors?" Lia asked sharply as she dangled the talisman from her hand.
"The ritual sites that maintain our prison," the Collector explained with obvious satisfaction. "Your Baron Samedi's storm created cracks in our cage. Now we widen those cracks, one inch at a time."
The temperature dropped another ten degrees, and I realized we were running out of time. This thing was getting stronger just by being near Zoe and feeding off her power. It was like some kind of energy vampire.
"We need to leave," I said urgently. "Now."
When we tried to back toward the cemetery entrance, the Collector raised what might have been a hand.
The air around us thickened like molasses, making movement feel like swimming through cement.
"The child stays," it commanded. "She will serve as our vessel until we can claim her bloodline properly. "
"Over my dead body," Lia snarled.
The Collector's laughter scraped against my consciousness like nails on a chalkboard. "That can be arranged, little witch. We collect all debts, eventually."
I called up every ounce of magical energy I could muster into a protective barrier around Zoe. My sisters added their protection to the mix, creating a shimmering dome of combined power. The entity tested our defenses while we tried to figure out how to get everyone out alive.
Finally, Kota stepped forward. "What if we offered you a trade?" she said. "Information about the other Guardian families in exchange for the girl?"
"Kota, no," I hissed at the same time she moved closer to the entity.
"We know where they are," she continued. "We even know about their security measures. Wouldn't that be more valuable than one teenager?"
The Collector's form wavered between solid and shadow as it considered the offer. "You would betray your own kind?"
"To save an innocent life? Absolutely." For a moment, I thought Kota had lost her mind. Then I realized she was buying us time while Dea gathered the spirits around her. Her power built in the air like an approaching storm.
"The offer is... tempting," the Collector mused. "But we think we will simply take the child and extract the information from your corpses."
The Collector lunged forward, but Dea was ready.
She thrust her hands out, and every spirit in the cemetery answered her call.
The air exploded with ghostly forms as dozens of restless souls slammed into the entity.
Knowing they needed force, I cast a spell giving them weight.
Lia, Dre, Phi and Kota added more to my spell, and they hit the creature with the force of a freight train.
The Collector's shriek of pain and fury split the night air as the spirits tore at its essence. They disrupted whatever dark magic held it connected to Zoe. "RUN!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
We bolted for Lia’s SUV like our asses were on fire.
It wasn't entirely inaccurate under the circumstances.
Zoe clutched her grandmother's journal as we threw ourselves inside the vehicle in a chaotic tangle of arms and legs.
Lia hit the driver's seat, cranked the engine, and floored it before anyone had even managed to get their seatbelts on.
"Jesus Christ, Lia!" Kota yelled from somewhere in the backseat as we careened out of the cemetery parking lot.
"Buckle up and shut up!" she shouted back, taking the corner fast enough to make the tires squeal.
Behind us, the Collector's furious roars echoed through the night. The spirits were still giving it hell. Dea had bought us the time we needed to escape. We didn't slow down until we were safely in Willowberry's parking lot.
"Everyone still breathing?" Lia asked as we untangled ourselves and stumbled out onto the asphalt.
"Define breathing," Dre said weakly, leaning against the side of the car.
Zoe was still clutching her grandmother's journal like a lifeline and had tears streaming down her face. "Thank you," she whispered. "I thought it was going to take me."
"Not on our watch," I said, guiding her to the back door while my sisters followed in various states of magical exhaustion.