Collector's Item by Denise Golinowski

to remember. If he didn’t feel it, then so be it. KT pushed herself away from the counter and walked back to his room, slowly.
    Now, she just had to convince herself to do the same.

Chapter Nine
    “So, you’ve decided to join the land of the living.”
    Peyton looked up from the tiny mirror in front of him as Colonel Hamilton “Ham” Brilling stepped into the hospital room. Just a touch under six feet, Ham seemed taller with his military carriage and brisk no-nonsense air. Dressed in Protectorate uniform, khaki and black, Ham’s crisp-edged presence only aggravated Peyton’s mood.
    Max paused from his virtual grooming and sniffed once before returning to his work.
    Disrespectful cat , Peyton chided his jag and then looked back at his reflection and growled. “I would’ve been out of here before now if that fool doctor hadn’t pumped me full of drugs. He wants to keep me one more day for bullshit observation. Observation! And then the nurse wasn’t going to let me shave myself.” Peyton gave a final scrape at his chin and threw the razor in the plastic bowl, ignoring the twinge at the abrupt movement. “When am I getting out of here, Ham?”
    Ham grinned. “When the doc says you can leave. Contrary to patient opinion, the docs here know their stuff. If they say you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
    Peyton used the ridiculous excuse for a washcloth to wipe the last of the shaving cream from his face, plopped it on top of the razor in the bowl, and pushed the tray aside. At least now, he looked more like himself, even if he was dressed in a baby blue hospital gown.
    “So, what’s the word on Torne?”
    Ham put his hat on the deep window ledge and sat in the bedside chair. “Not much. We’ve got warrants for all his properties. Teams have been sent out. We should be hearing back from them soon. Not that we’ll find him at any of them, but I’m hopeful we’ll find some of the kidnapped paranormals.”
    “And Patricia Tercelon?”
    “Her info’s been sent and the teams have been told to give her a priority if they find her.” Ham lifted one foot to rest it across his knee. “I hear the Marant girl thinks she saw Patricia Tercelon in the car with Torne. Her father insists she’s a credible witness.”
    Max’s hackles rose and Peyton stifled the urge to snap at Ham’s use of the term “girl” to describe KT. Hadn’t he been calling her “princess?”
    Until you got to know her , Max interjected.
    Don’t start , Peyton said. He could feel where Max was going and he wasn’t having any of it.
    He focused on Ham’s comments. “KT Marant’s pretty sharp. If she thinks she saw her aunt, then I’m inclined to think she saw her aunt.”
    Ham’s eyebrows rose toward his crew cut. “KT, is it?”
    Peyton sensed his friend’s speculative interest and shifted uncomfortably against his pillows. He shrugged. “That’s what she goes by.”
    He was saved from further comment by the hesitant entrance of a nursing aide. She was the same one who’d tried to shave him. She gestured toward the tray. “Done with your shaving things?”
    Peyton had to smile as he nodded. “Thank you, yes. Despite my roar, I won’t bite.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. A faint rasp accompanied his fingers, but it was the best he could do with what he’d been given.
    She lifted the bowl, fastidiously wiped up the little pool of water he had sloshed out onto the tray, and left.
    Peyton shoved aside the topic of KT Marant. “We almost had him, Ham. I still can’t believe Torne slipped through my fingers like that.”
    “No one’s been able to pin a Collector connection to Torne until last night.” Ham leaned forward, his own satisfaction a palpable presence in the room. “This is finally going to bring down Mr. Untouchable. I guarantee it.”
    Peyton nodded, relaxing a little. “Any leads on his location?”
    Ham leaned back and flicked an invisible speck of lint from his pant leg. “We’ve put the word