Chapter 2: The Debt Collector

The knocking increased in urgency.

Elias braced his jaw, his hold on the amulet tightening. Vasquez's words echoed through his mind.

It keeps you safe, but one day it comes to collect.

The knocks became loud pounds, shaking the door on its hinges.

Vasquez gave him a harsh glance.

"You brought this to my doorstep, Thorne. That was a mistake."

Elias blew air out through his nose.

"Yeah, well, I do a lot of those." He looked toward the rear of the dark shop, where a curtain covered a second door. "Got another exit?"

Vasquez faltered, her gaze shooting towards the solid wooden cabinets against the walls.

And then, without comment, she marched towards the rear and flung open a thin, cobweb-shrouded door.

"It gives access to the alley," she said. "But it won't be important if they've already marked you."

Yet another bang against the front door.

Elias had no time to inquire what she was talking about.

He shifted, going into the narrow passageway beyond, but Vasquez had not yet followed when she stopped.

"If you make it through," she whispered, barely above a breath but loud enough for him to catch, "find me again.

There's something more you need to learn."

Elias didn't appreciate hearing that.

But hearing the door splintering open behind him a great deal less.

The Chase Begins

He entered the alley, the rain continuing to fall in sheets.

The cobblestones were slippery, the air heavy with damp and something metallic. Something is amiss.

His boots splashed through puddles as he cut sharply down a narrow street, instinct driving him to move.

He could hear footsteps behind him, quick and heavy.

The men from the previous night.

And someone else.

A presence at his back, near enough to make the hairs on his neck stand on end.

Elias flung himself forward just in time as a knife cut through the air where he'd stood. He saw the whoosh of it slicing through nothingness.

If he'd been even a second later.

"Son of a bitch," he spat, steadying himself.

The street ahead split.

Left took him towards the market, filled even at dawn. Right to the docks, shadowed and deserted this time of day.

He headed down to the right.

He wasn't sure why. Instinct, perhaps.

Or maybe that damn amulet thrumming against his heart.

For either reason, he ran into the fog-wet labyrinth of warehouses and dead ships, the storm rolling off the water, thick and dense.

His enemies weren't far behind.

Elias dodged through a side passageway between two buildings, his breathing clogged, heartbeat pounding.

He leaned against the wall, thumbs grazing the ice-cold blade of a knife hidden in the folds of his coat.

It was a luxury he seldom called upon.

The amulet to it.

Whatever it was whispered to him, he would require additional luck tonight.

A moving shadow darted past the passageway mouth.

Elias clamped his hand around the knife.

He waited, holding his breath.

Then.

A gentle voice, right next to him.

"You're not as quick as you believe you are, Mr. Thorne."

Elias spun, but too late.

A sharp pressure pressed into his ribs, a knife pressed hard enough to make a point.

The woman who held it was hooded, but he could see dark curls, rain-slicked skin, and eyes that shone like polished obsidian.

Not Vasquez.

Someone else.

A dangerous person.

"Who in the world are you?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice even.

The woman smiled, slow and deliberate.

"Someone interested in that small bauble of yours?"

Elias could hear the men closing in behind her, the sound of their boots crunching on the wet cobblestones.

She didn't budge, her knife still pressed against his ribs, as if she had all the time in the world.

"Now," she murmured, her voice low. "Are you going to be clever about it?"

Elias nodded his head, thinking.

And then, in a single smooth motion, he allowed himself to fall.

The force of it caught her off guard; her knife scored only a minimal cut as he spun out of the way.

He thudded onto his back, rolled over, and kicked out, sending her legs flying from under her.

She fell to the ground with a bad word, but Elias was already on his feet.

The men had seen.

Cries were called out.

Elias ran towards the docks.

The wooden boards creaked under his feet as he ran, mist swirling in thick off the black sea.

He could hear them in pursuit, their shouts echoing through the storm.

Then a shot.

The sound tore through the night, stunning on the rain.

Elias flinched, bracing for the bullet to hit.

But it didn't.

He heard a snap of wood snapping behind him.

The amulet throbbed, chill against his skin.

Another shot. Another miss.

His luck still held.

For now.

He hit the pier's end. A dead end.

The sole exit was into the water.

The river below churned, dark and cold. Not a simple escape.

Behind him, footsteps hesitated.

The woman's voice called out through the rain.

"You can't run from this, Elias."

She was closer now. Her shadow is sharp against the fog.

"This amulet," she went on, voice barely soft, "it doesn't only provide luck. It steals. It warps things.

And the longer you possess it, the more terrible the cost will be."

Elias swallowed hard, jaw clenched.

He already knew that.

But what she said next made him shiver.

"You're not the first to wear it," she whispered. "And you're not the last."

The words seeped into his bones like lead.

Then she attacked.

Elias had no other option.

He spun and leaped into the river.

A Deepening Mystery

The cold struck like a hammer.

Dark water engulfed him, his breath snatched away in a heartbeat.

The current tugged, pulled, and threatened to hold him beneath.

For an instant, panic raked at him.

Then his fingers closed around the amulet.

And suddenly, he wasn't sinking.

He was floating.

The water didn't pull him down. It bored him.

Moved him forward.

As if the river had decided.

Elias struggled for air as he surfaced, the storm overhead churning, the docks already receding.

He let the current sweep him away, vanishing into the darkness.

But one thing was certain.

Whoever those individuals were, they were not finished with him.

And neither was the amulet.

Somewhere in the darkness, debt remained to be paid.

A Dark Awakening

Elias awoke to the salt in his mouth and the stinging pain of bruises.

His limbs were strewn across wet, splintered wood; river water smell clung to his clothes.

Seagulls screeched in the distance; their cries blended with the far-off ring of ship bells.

He slowly opened his eyes.

A pier. Not Hollow's Bend. Elsewhere.

The boards he lay on were warped with dampness, curving into a mist-shrouded harbor where ships towered like specter giants.

He couldn't remember how long the river had borne him.

No memory of scuttling onto dry land.

But the amulet remained clamped against his chest.

And that spelled trouble.

He groaned, propelling himself upward.

His ribs creaked, aching from the force of the water.

His fingers trailed through his wet hair before his mind snapped into focus.

He wasn't alone.

A figure huddled a few feet off. Watching.

Elias tightened, his hand moving toward the knife on his belt.

The alley woman.

She was wet too, dark curls dripping, her cloak stuck to her body.

But she wasn't standing over him with a knife this time.

She was holding out a flask instead.

"Drink," she said flatly.

Elias squinted. He had no reason to believe her.

But his throat was parched, and after almost drowning, whiskey wasn't the worst solution.

He accepted it, sniffed whiskey for certain, and took a deep swig.

The burn touched his stomach, spreading heat through his chest.

"Not poisoned," he said, passing it back.

She raised an eyebrow.

"If I were going to kill you, I wouldn't use good whiskey to do it."

Good point.

Elias breathed out, inclining his head toward her.

"Are you going to give me your name, or do I keep calling you Trouble?

The woman smiled, placing her elbows on her knees. "Selene."

"Selene." He allowed the name to feel on his tongue.

It fit her tough, calculated. "So tell me, Selene, what the hell do you want?"

Her smile disappeared. "Same thing everyone else does."

Her eyes darted to his chest.

To the amulet.

Elias shrugged his shoulders, fatigue and frustration gnawing at his temper. "Let me guess.

You want to take it? Destroy it? Sell it to the highest bidder?"

Selene's face darkened.

"No."

She leaned forward, speaking in a lower tone.

"I want to help you get rid of it."

That got his attention.

He snorted in a short laugh.

"Didn't you hear what Vasquez said? This thing doesn't just go away."

Selene's jaw tightened.

"She's right. But there are ways."

Elias studied her.

She wasn't lying.

But there was something else beneath her words. A weight.

A history.

"You've dealt with this before," he guessed.

Selene hesitated. Then, with slow deliberation, she reached for her cloak.

She pulled the fabric aside, revealing the skin of her collarbone.

A scar.

Small, circular, just below her throat.

The same shape as his amulet.

Elias stared.

Selene let the cloak drop back into position. "I wore it once," she said softly. "And I paid for it."

The Truth of the Amulet

The wind shrieked through the deserted dockyard, but Elias hardly noticed.

Selene had worn the amulet first.

She had lived through it.

Or at least, half of her had.

Elias let out a harsh breath, running a hand over his face.

"You're saying you got rid of it?"

Selene's eyes grew dark. "Not precisely."

Elias waited.

She hesitated, then leaned back against one of the posts on the dock, eyes looking up toward the mist-shrouded horizon.

"I was young when I acquired it. Seventeen.

I was desperate, and it found me.

That's how it goes." Her hands fluttered, as if remembering the feel of it.

"I thought at first it was a gift.

I could steal, fight, escape anything. But luck is not free, Elias. It's borrowed."

Elias' gut knotted. He knew where this was headed.

Selene went on, her voice even though there were shadows in her eyes.

When the debt was due, I attempted to flee.

I believed I could deceive it. But the amulet does not take things. It takes people. It takes time.

And when it collects, it doesn't leave behind a body."

Elias gulped. "Then why are you still alive?"

Selene regarded him with a long, expressionless stare.

"Because someone else paid."

The gravity of the statement filled the air.

Elias shifted back, averting his gaze.

It was logical.

The only way out was to pass it on.

That meant someone had been left paying Selene's price.

And now, Elias was in that same situation.

The understanding soured in his stomach.

"I won't do that," he said at last.

Selene didn't flinch. "You say that now."

"I mean it."

She breathed out, standing up.

"You don't get it. The longer you have it on, the more difficult it is to fight it." She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper.

"One day, Elias, you'll have a decision: your life or another's."

Elias balled his fists.

He wanted to deny it.

Wanted to believe he would never condemn another.

But hadn't he already done awful things to stay alive?

The idea made him ill.

"I can't let that happen," he growled.

Selene looked at him.

Then she pulled out something small and metallic from her coat.

A coin.

She flipped it once, caught it, then held it out to him.

Elias arched an eyebrow.

"A bribe?"

"A test," she replied. "Call it."

Elias scowled but went along with it.

"Heads."

Selene spread her palm.

Tails.

She flipped it again.

"Heads," he attempted.

Tails.

He scowled. "What the hell is this?"

Selene's mouth twisted in something that was more like a grimace than a smile.

"It's a gambler's trick. One I learned the hard way."

She put the coin back into her pocket.

"The amulet isn't making you lucky, Elias. It's making you choose."

A shiver climbed up his spine.

"What?"

Selene cocked her head.

"Tell me, have you ever actually made the decision to do something, or has it just. happened to you?"

Elias's mouth dropped open and then closed again.

The fights he escaped.

The drops that never injured.

The shots that never found their mark.

Had he actually avoided them? Or had he merely never had the opportunity to lose?

He shivered.

Selene moved back.

"We have to go. You made enemies last night, and they will not cease."

Elias drew in a slow breath, then nodded.

Selene headed off, walking toward the edge of the dock, and Elias followed because, on some level, he knew she spoke the truth.

He was short of time.

And worse, he no longer knew if the decisions he made were truly his.