Lost Souls

by Chelsea Mueller

  “You keep that up and I’ll throw you against a wall,” she made the joke, but it soured on her tongue. What she’d done to Savannah and Lexi shouldn’t be joked about.

  Derek laughed loud and boisterous. “You going to put me up against a wall?”

  Callie pressed her fingers against her lips. “Do you want me to?”

  He turned, and knocked her knees wide as he did. Her whole body flushed. He tilted his head down to gaze at her, and when he lifted his eyes to meet hers there was nothing but hunger. “Seemed like you were good with me keeping you on that counter.”

  The air between them was thick and heady, and Callie gasped it in. Low in her belly began to clench. His hands were searing as they slid along her jeans. He pushed her legs wider, and quickly filled the space. He let his full weight land on her. It was crushing and possessive, and she loved the reminder that he could be powerful when she needed it.

  She speared her fingers into his hair, and pulled him closer. Their lips met in a feverish hunger. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth. Their kiss grew deeper, and Callie wrapped a leg around his back. She couldn’t hold him there, but she’d try. She grappled with the hem of his shirt, edging it up, but was unwilling to break the kiss to give him the freedom to toss it overhead. Her own shirt rode up, too, and electricity snapped between their bare skin. It was the promising prickle of expectations. Her body needed something good. Her soul needed it, too.

  He gave her a small nudge, and pushed himself back to pull off the shirt. “Just a sec, doll.”

  Callie wasn’t interested in waiting. Not tonight. If today had taught her anything it was how volatile the world could be. How quickly circumstances could change. She was going to feast on love and sex and Derek, and she wasn’t about to wait for an invitation for more. She placed her hands on his shoulders. His muscles hardened, and it only made her wetness increase. His chagrin put her over the edge. She pulled a pinch of her magic forward, and throttled Derek to the other side of the couch. The sofa shifted closer to the wall as his back hit the other arm. Callie hadn’t throw him, though. She’d thrown herself, too. She straddled his waist, and ran her nails down his bare chest.

  “Oh,” Derek said.

  “Oh,” she repeated and then leaned in to get more of the kiss she needed. His mouth was already swollen. Hers was too. She bit his lower lip, and then licked it. His groan was one of both pain and request. His hand cupped her nape, his hold firm. Her spine shot signals to every part of her body until all her nerve endings were primed for his touch. Her nipples tightened against the heat of his chest. She leaned into him, needing to be closer. To get more. More of him. The hardness in his jeans had similar ideas. He rocked his hips beneath hers in a steady rhythm that was slowly short-circuiting her brain. Only Derek could find the places to shut off her mind. His touch was freedom, and she craved more. Derek pulled her mouth to his again, and devoured. His free hand found her hip and yanked her down sharply against him. She whined, and he did it again.

  He arced up until his lips grazed her earlobe. “You good with me pushing right now?”

  She loved that he asked. That he wouldn’t reverse their roles again without permission. Callie hadn’t ever seen herself in leadership roles. The problem solver? Sure. Today, though, she’d had to give people instructions, she’d had to make decisions for other people, she’d had to protect people. It was goddamn exhausting.

  “Put me where you need,” she whispered. “Take over.”

  He didn’t hesitate. His hands slung under her ass, and he stood in a swift motion that both underscored their size differential and just how fucking strong the man was. He headed toward the bedroom, but paused across from the bathroom. He sat her back onto the floor.

  He kneeled before her and reached for the button on her jeans. “Pants.”

  Her jeans and panties and his jeans and boxers were kicked to the side. Derek’s mouth once again collided with hers. Her shoulders bumped the wall behind her. His fingers slid between her legs, the move more exploratory than teasing. She arced toward the touch. The gravel of his groan grazed her breasts. She bit back a small cry, and reached to offer a similar touch. But he locked his hands on her hips and spun her to face away from him. His chest was heat and promise at her back. He nudged her forward until the cool drywall was pressed against her cheek. Tiny, tender kisses warmed her shoulder. He trailed them up the side of her neck. Each contact edged her closer to oblivion. She needed him. These teasing strokes were not enough.

  His voice was hoarse in her hear. “I love you, and I’ve got you.”

  And he did.

  Callie and Derek made it into the bedroom thirty minutes later. Languid limbs were usually reserved for people who could fork over two hundred bucks for a stone massage, but Derek had brought Callie to that level of relaxation.

  The ceiling fan churned silently overhead. “I needed that,” she said.

  “Me, too. I need this, though, too.” He pulled her closer until her cheek was pressed against his chest. The musk of sex and sweat clung to him. He smelled like hers.

  “We should do more of both.”

  Derek was quiet long enough, she’d thought he’d fallen asleep. “We should get out from the Soul Charmer.”

  She agreed. They’d made that plan, but Charmer’s status had changed since then. “Do you think he’s coming back?”

  He pressed her more firmly to his side. “I wish I knew, doll.”

  “How long do we wait?” Could they wait?

  “For him to return or for us to leave?” Derek asked.

  “Both maybe?” Only could she leave now?

  Reality crashed into the room like the Kool-Aid Man.

  “If he doesn’t come back,” an eerie tang tainted her tone, “I don’t think we can leave.”

  His breath hitched. “I suppose if he’s gone there’s no reason we have to leave.” The words were cautious, and that made Callie uneasy.

  She needed to tell him about the well. Her nighthawk vows involved secrecy, but they also probably hadn’t allowed for her to punch a fist into purgatory and bust the afterlife equivalent of skulls. “Someone has to tend to the soul well. You heard your brother. It’s me and the Soul Charmer who can do it.”

  Derek sucked in a breath big enough to move Callie’s head on his chest. She continued before he could shoot the idea down. “You weren’t there today. The thing was overflowing, and there were some souls we would not want escaping doing their best to take over. Father Giles was not particularly helpful, but, Derek, my gut says if someone doesn’t keep that thing stable souls that should not be in this world will get here.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked quietly.

  The phrase ‘hell on earth’ wasn’t appropriate for bedroom talk. “If we want to protect our people here, we have to stay until the Soul Charmer comes back.”

  “A temporary stay. That can work. I just don’t want to see him forcing you into more of this kind of bullshit. You shouldn’t be fighting battles over stolen souls.”

  “And what should I be doing?” Callie kissed his chest.

  “Whatever the fuck you want, doll. Whatever the fuck you want.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Morning came too early. Derek made coffee, and then he and Callie drove to her place so she could shower and change clothes. The desert had this stillness when the sun was still low. The golden rays danced on every surface, and brought the adobe homes they passed back to the rich clay color of its earlier life. The packed snow on the streets glistened, but the sky was clear. If it weren’t for the thirty-degree temperature, it might have been lovely out.

  “Did you check who needs souls picked up today?” Callie hadn’t.

  Derek kept his eyes on the road. “Nah. We can get an update at the shop, and figure out what’s next. I know you wanted us to get more souls on the shelves…”

  She wasn’t the boss, but he hadn’t meant it that way. Right?

  “I want to make sure Nate doe
sn’t steal them. Once he grabs them, those souls could be lost to us.” She toggled the air vent to point over her shoulder.

  “I know.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and his left knee bounced a rat-a-tat.

  “But?”

  “We should start hearing back from the scouts soon. I want to stay close in case we need to move on the missing souls.” He wanted to stay close to her.

  Relationships were weird. Part of her felt she should have been bothered by his need to hover right now. The other part said this was how their relationship worked. He showed her he loved her with actions. If he busted someone’s face, it was more an act of devotion than one of protection. Would he admit he needed her close for him?

  “You hear from Josh this morning?” He was also great about diverting attention away from the awkward moments.

  “He messaged. Zara’s making progress and Aunt Lily is driving her crazy.”

  “Any other Nate sightings?”

  “Not that he mentioned, but I told him to call if he saw anything.”

  They parked around the back of the shop. The interior was quiet. Miguel texted to tell them he’d tapped in to watch Lexi in the basement, and promised they’d given her food and water. Beck was seated behind the Soul Charmer’s desk, feet kicked up.

  “I’m guessing the boss isn’t back?” Derek knocked Beck’s feet off the oak desk. His shoes clopped against the floor.

  Beck didn’t miss a beat. “Callie’s our temporary Soul Charmer, though, right?”

  Ugh. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

  “Soul Charmer 2.0? Soul Charmette? Soul Sister?”

  “Beck if you don’t stop, I’m going to let Derek punch you.” Not that he actually needed her permission.

  Beck snickered. “You two are an uptight power couple. Is that a thing?”

  Derek snaked his arm around Callie’s waist and tugged her close. “Jealous?”

  Callie elbowed him away. “We’re the kind of couple that can break your bones and steal your soul, and one hundred percent do not need your commentary.”

  “You really are no fun.”

  Callie shrugged him off and went to review the contents of the cabinets. All the souls that should be on the shelf as of yesterday were still there. It’s not that she’d expected any of the Charmer’s crew to pilfer them, but she needed to know the souls she’d saved from the well were safe. This mother hen deal had to wear off eventually, right?

  “Your guys hear anything?” Derek asked Beck.

  “Yeah, the two warehouses nearest the center of town were busts. One of my guys broke in and it was empty. Property rolls still show it belonging to the late Ford, and it looks like no one has moved to make changes.”

  “And the other?” Derek began to pace in front of the desk. He had very few tells when they were at the Charmer’s, but it was like his feet had to move when his brain was turning over something big.

  Beck scrolled the screen on his phone for a moment. “The other place was in use by Ford’s dad. They did not break in there.”

  “So that leaves the one south of town?”

  “Right. I’ve got one of my guys and one of yours sitting on it. They’re supposed to ping me if they see anyone coming or going.” Beck sat his phone on the desk. Task complete.

  Derek wasn’t done though. He paused in front of the desk. “How long have they been watching it?”

  Beck straightened his spine. “Since seven this morning.”

  “Not bad.” It was high praise from Derek.

  Beck nodded slowly and the two fell back into relative quiet.

  The silence bit at Callie. Her mom seemed to be okay for now, but they still had problems. Like the soul dealer held hostage in the basement. “How’s Lexi doing?”

  The way Beck and Derek looked at one another made Callie’s stomach drop.

  “She’s fine,” Beck said, too quickly.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Callie looked to Derek, then Beck, and then back to Derek. Someone was going to tell her what had gone wrong.

  “She is fine,” Derek said. “She’s been in and out, though. Usually the people downstairs don’t sleep. We got the other info out of her, but there might be more.”

  “Boss usually has us take them off site.” Shame slathered Beck’s face.

  “He’s not here,” Callie snapped. “Keep her comfortable.”

  Derek’s lips thinned.

  “Comfortable, but secure,” she amended. “Once we’ve dealt with the Anonymous Souls group, we’ll find a safe way to let her go.”

  Derek didn’t argue, but Beck said, “You sure that’s a good idea? The Charmer wouldn’t sign off on that.”

  “Thought you said I was Soul Charmer 2.0.”

  He was quiet for a long minute. Callie prepared for the possibility this was going to get awkward. Finally, Beck said, “I knew you liked that one.”

  The sharp ting of the front bell rang throughout the office. Callie peeked at the time on her phone. “Who needs a bonus soul this early in the day?”

  “Sometimes it’s part of running errands, Callie.” Beck laughed at his own joke. No one else did.

  She looked to Derek. “Come up there with me?”

  If this were the business guy back early or another person who wanted to throw their weight around, then she’d rather Derek’s presence quell any potential trouble. No need to go supernatural Kung-Fu fighter again.

  A man and a woman waited for them. Both in navy blue uniforms and badges reading Gem City Police Department. Lovely. Just lovely. At least they weren’t the same police officers who had visited last time. That had to be a good thing, right?

  “Sir, ma’am, we are here to speak with the proprietor of this establishment,” the woman said. Her badge read Sinclair.

  “He isn’t available at this time. If you’d like me to take your card, though, I can pass it along.” Did she sound overeager? Too helpful? Could you be too helpful to the cops? What was the right balance between civic duty and up-in-your-shit to please the people?

  “We’re here to see the Charmer,” the male officer said. The familiarity in his voice was unmistakable. He’d met the Soul Charmer before. Callie kept her distance from him. Now most certainly was not the time to kick-start her magic.

  Derek loomed behind her like an emboldened bear. “She already told you, he’s not here.”

  “Maybe you can assist us,” Sinclair said. She’d come here for something, and determination like that stuck in her teeth. “We believe a recent crime victim visited this establishment last night.”

  “Oh?” What if Suit-and-Tie was dead? What if her magic was too much? Was Lexi dying in the basement from wounds to her soul? Was it the guy from her apartment? Wasn’t there some cop rule about proximity and guilt?

  The policewoman continued like Callie wasn’t having an ethical crisis. “Would you mind looking at a photo?”

  Like she could say no.

  The four-by-six image the officer pulled from her pocket was greys and silvers, but still in full color. Callie covered her mouth to hold back the cry kicking in her throat. In the picture, a jaw hung slack from a bruised face. Unseeing eyes stared out from the frame. They might have been green when the man was alive, but now their color was diluted. The image was sharp, but everything about this man had blurred. The metal coroner’s table beneath the head shone brightest in the picture. Callie tried to focus on it, because staring at a dead body had not been on her agenda for the day, the week, or the year.

  “I haven’t seen him before,” she said, her fingers still hovering near her mouth.

  “What about you?” The officer held the photo out to Derek.

  “No. He’s not a customer,” he said.

  “And you’d know if he was?” the male cop asked.

  Derek was still fixed on the photograph. Callie understood. The horror jarring her brain had needed a way to place it context. There simply wasn’t one.

  “I’ve worked here for a long
time. I know most of the customers. That isn’t one, and he wasn’t here last night.” Derek’s voice was that even calm that came from years of being the person who controlled the level of tension in the room.

  “You know we heard this place might have something to do with the murder of Mr. Ford’s son.”

  Were they supposed to say something to that? It wasn’t a question, but ignoring it might draw even more interest. They could not cope with more interest from Gem City PD.

  “Not sure where you heard that,” Callie said, doing her best to look tiny and helpless. “We rent souls to those seeking to stay in our Lord’s good graces, and that’s all.”

  “You know criminals use your services. It’ll be outlawed before you know it.” The male cop was in a snit.

  “If that’s the case, then we’ll deal with it then. The Soul Charmer always complies with the law.” Fuck. She was starting to sound like him. If Beck was eavesdropping, she’d never hear the end of it.

  “If that’s the case, why don’t you let us see the logbooks from last night? Prove our suicide vic wasn’t in here?” the cop huffed.

  Suicide? A bad match could do that. She’d seen the attempt herself, but how would they know if it was because of the soul?

  Derek dropped the nice guy act. He angled closer to Callie, and she could almost smell the sickly sweet disdain dripping from his pores. “You know damn well the Soul Charmer doesn’t keep a logbook.”

  “He had to try,” the policewoman said. “If you or your boss hear anything, please give us a call.” She dropped her business card on the counter, and then the two officers exited the shop.

  Callie exhaled and leaned backward into Derek. He didn’t budge.

  “Do you think it was a bad match?” Her words were soft.

  His harsh grunt was a maybe.

  Her shoulders ached, and her toes cramped. She stretched until her fingers were far above her, and her Chucks slurped off the floor. When she released the move, she was no less tense. So much for staying off the edge.

  “Did you actually recognize the guy? I didn’t.”

  “No.”

  Callie turned around. A harsh line cut between Derek’s eyebrows. His mouth was drawn in a tight bow.