The Soul Collector

Ch. Fifteen

"If we are always looking back, we will drive ourselves insane."

- Bastille

                                                                                 ***

She stared up at Sirius blankly. "What do you mean?"

He narrowed his eyes at her like he was trying to focus. "Just what I said."

Galloway shook her head, making the room spin. "No. No you don't just get to say something like that, Sirius! What do you mean I shouldn't have been made into a Collector? It wasn't exactly my idea, you know. Theron offered me the job."

Sirius sat at the table, looking exhausted. All he offered her was a shrug, making fury spark deep in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. He narrowed his eyes at her, his teeth lengthening ever so slightly, and she heard the smallest click of claws on glass. 

Slowly, saying each word distinctly, she said, "What do you mean, Sirius?"

"You're too different," he snarled softly, jerking away from her.

"Care to expand on that?" she snapped.

He growled, the sound low and threatening. "No. Not particularly."

She slammed her hands down onto the top of the table. "Too damn bad. Start talking, Sirius, or this is going to get ugly."

Sirius bared his teeth at her and spat, "It's not a get out of Hell free card! They look for something particular, peculiar if you'd prefer, when they're screening for a new Collector. I've seen murderers, Galloway. Liars and thieves and rapists and cheats. Cruel people. Bad people. The heartless ones. People who had something broken in them to begin with."

He inhaled deeply before continuing, "Those are the people who get turned into Collectors. Not people like you. Not people who try to save people. Who sell their Souls for someone else. Not the people who become broken after the fact. Not you, Galloway!"

Her breath was rough in her throat, coming too quickly, her eyes wide and cheeks pale. Sirius released an irritated breath. "There's just—there's something wrong with you, Galloway. Nothing about your situation is right and it...it's dangerous. It's dangerous."

The room filled with a dead, heavy silence as they looked at each other, the aftermath of what Sirius had said scattered like sharp debris between them. 

"Wrong with me?" she echoed.

"Where Hell is concerned, yeah." He spoke softly now, like he was trying to piece it all back together. "Galloway." He waited until she was looking at him before he asked, "Theron was the one who made your Deal?"

Numb now, she nodded mechanically.

"Are you sure?"

"I think I would remember something like that, Sirius," she hissed, still feeling oddly detached. "Yes. Theron took over my contract. He had me sign the papers. He cast the spell."

"Are you sure he held up his end of the bargain?" Sirius asked.

Confusion now taking center stage, she nodded slowly. "Yeah. He brought them back."

"Did he know they were Hunters?"

She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by his rapid-fire questions and wondered what exactly he was getting at, if he was getting at anything. She bit her lip. "I don't know. I don't think so, otherwise he wouldn't have brought them back, right?"