Borrowed Souls: A Soul Charmer Novel

by Chelsea Mueller

  Callie didn’t normally stand on the moral high ground, which apparently made her prime Soul Charmer bait, but even from her stance of “don’t be a dick,” what Ford tasked her with was wicked. Helping his crew understand how police were investigating crimes where evidence and DNA had been obscured by soul magic was a cliff dive from her moral middle ground. She and Josh would be cozy together at rock bottom.

  Ford hadn’t budged from his lazy spot against her car. If she owned a classic car, Ford might have pulled off the signature tough-guy stance against it. Instead she was a little worried his right foot was going to knock off the rubber detailing on her door. It wasn’t essential, but there were few parts of her car that held together. She’d like to keep it as intact as possible.

  “You seemed stressed,” Ford said with sincerity that would have fooled her mom. It didn’t fool Callie.

  Was he trying to get under her skin? She was almost fed up enough to list off all the sources of her stress, with his threats at the very top, but self-preservation won out. “It’s my constant state of being.” She wished it weren’t true.

  “I can hook you up with a little oblivion, to take the edge off.” He pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket. She wanted to vomit at the sight of the crystalline white inside it.

  “My edges are better sharp.” Understatement of the year. If she was going to continue mingling with the likes of him and the Soul Charmer, she needed to be a goddamn honed human dagger.

  He laughed and slid the drug back in his pocket. “Maybe they are.” The metal groaned as he pushed off Callie’s car, but thankfully it remained in one piece. “You change your mind, call me. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch once you’ve gotten that soul.”

  Sure. As creepy as the Soul Charmer was, he was better to work for than Ford. The Charmer had turned her into a magic tool without her consent. Shitty, yes. But Ford was blackmailing her into using soul magic to break into a police lab. He wouldn’t shell out the cash she needed to rent the soul, but he had no problem giving her free narcotics. At least with the Charmer, he didn’t hide the fact that he was a scary, shady fuck. Ford, flitting from friend to fiend, cut deeper, and he did it harder and faster. He’d bleed you before you even noticed the bloodied knife in his hand.

  Callie hadn’t gone into work on her day off since her hospital days. She’d learned quickly that a medical assistant dropping a book off to a friend could get volunteered for an extra shift pretty easily. Her current job was less likely to be short-staffed, but the risk of extra hours without extra pay was still real. However, her morning chat with Ford scared her into the employee entrance of Cedar Retirement Home.

  The sooner she completed his task, the better. The masseuse she met the other day did chakra balancing. That had to be close enough to Tess’s siphoning of souls—sucking chi, Derek had called it—for her to know the other woman. Tracking down Tess was now her best option. Either she’d snag a soul from her and knock Ford’s task out early, or she’d turn Tess over to the Soul Charmer in exchange for expediting her soul rental. Both were nasty options, but another run-in with Ford or one of his goons was much nastier.

  “Callie? What are you doing here? Did I goof the schedule?” Louisa’s eyes widened as she entered the kitchen, but she didn’t miss a beat chopping cilantro and swiping it into a large pot on the stove.

  “No, I’m not working today.” Her smile was wan, but Louisa pretended not to notice.

  “That’s good, because I don’t think my scrubs would fit you.” She pulled a tray out from the oven. The lemon and basil notes of her marinade wafted across the room. Callie’s stomach rumbled.

  “You know if any of the massage girls are here today?”

  “A few of them.” She glanced at the clock. “Should still be down at the reception station. Most start work at nine.”

  “Thanks, Lou.”

  “You need me to pray for you?” The laughter in her words was false. Louisa would pray for her regardless.

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Prayers were necessary by the time Callie reached the reception desk. Two of the masseuses were there. Their faces were familiar, but neither were the woman she’d talked to outside the ward. If only asking favors came as naturally to her as it did to Josh. She opened with a “Hey,” and it went downhill from there. Her palms grew warmer with each step she took toward them, for starters.

  The women replied with rote greetings and returned to their own conversation. Their chatter dimmed when they realized Callie hadn’t moved along, but at least Callie’s hands hadn’t gone inferno again.

  “I’m trying to find a woman who specializes in chakra balancing,” she interjected. It was as close to the truth as she dared.

  One of the women, petite with dirty blonde hair tucked into a loose ponytail, shrugged and said, “I can do that.”

  “Thanks, but I’m actually looking for a specific woman. She was here the other day, but I didn’t catch her name.” After enduring a pair of blank stares, she added, “She offered to help me.”

  The taller massage therapist scoffed. Her thick eyebrows were two shades darker than her brown locks. “That was then. We heard what you did to Bianca.”

  “B-B-Bianca?” What. The. Hell.

  “Small world. You burned our friend.”

  They knew. People miles away knew what she’d done. Her hands didn’t burn now, but the memory scalded her. “I don’t know what—”

  “Yes you do.”

  The fight-or-flight instinct reared inside her, but instead of incinerating shirts and skin, Callie ran her mouth. “In that case, I need to talk to Tess. Do you know her?”

  The short one piped up again. “Sure. You apparently don’t though. She’s the chakra balancer you said you knew.”

  Those simple words packed quite a punch. Callie’s solar plexus vibrated as the wind rushed from her. Not only had she already met Tess, but the same woman who was stealing from the Soul Charmer of Gem City also knew Ford. All the bad guys wanted a piece of Callie, it seemed. Couldn’t they put their battles aside until after she rescued her brother?

  “Can you put me in touch with her?” she asked, ignoring the women’s scathing tones.

  “If she wanted to talk with you, she’d find you. Right now she’s busy taking care of Bianca,” the short one said.

  “I’d worry about yourself for now,” the other tacked on.

  If only it were so easy. Returning to Plan A was a whole lot harder after you’d pissed off someone who controlled souls. Tess might not be as powerful as the Charmer, but magic was scary. So was the unknown. Tess was both, and Callie and Derek needed to find her fast before the situation went from awful to unbearable.

  Callie had agreed to let Derek meet her at her apartment. Each day she spent with him, the more she understood him. He took his job seriously, and that meant protecting her was paramount. He had no idea how much she needed his protection now.

  When he’d dropped her off the night before, he’d referred to her aging vehicle as an eyesore and not-so-politely suggested it didn’t fit into the stealthy logistics required for this job. She thought it had less to do with sneaking around—they rumbled up everywhere on a noisy motorcycle—and more to do with control. They’d spent plenty of time talking about that, but hadn’t talked about the kiss, even though when she’d wrapped her legs on either side of him to ride home she swore she heard him groan.

  The morning visit from Ford and subsequent Tess revelation had stopped her from obsessing over Derek and her flamethrower hands for the better part of the day. Nothing like an in-person chat with the murderous king of local criminals to send you into a panicky spiral of self-doubt and shame. Family woes plus mob bosses equaled stomachaches. She splurged on two bottles of Tums at the store. The extra cash she had to spend was worth it to keep her insides intact.

  Derek’s thunderous knock at the door was a relief. There wouldn’t be dancing and homemade enchiladas that night, but Callie would be one day closer to saving Jo
sh.

  “You look nice,” he said when she opened the door.

  She hadn’t fancied up for a night of hunting delinquent soul renters, but she did succumb to the need to put on some mascara and swapped out her standard simple studs for red and white polka dot button earrings. Ford had offered her oblivion by way of powder today. She’d rather reach peak distraction through a different, more natural kind of bliss. The heat of her kiss with Derek might have been one sided for all she knew, but she put a little effort into tonight’s look, just in case she was wrong. A few strands had escaped her ponytail, though, and she smoothed them behind her ear. “Thanks.”

  Derek sat at the far end of the couch, and immediately sprawled across a cushion and a half. It was her favorite place to read books. She didn’t ask him to move, though. “I asked a couple of the other guys at the Charmer’s about people reneging on their rentals, and then not having souls to retrieve when we get there to collect.”

  “It’s happening to everyone?” Callie sank onto the other end of the couch, pulling one leg up and wrapping her arms around her knee. Hugging yourself was underrated.

  “Thank God,” he muttered. Derek continued, louder. “Yeah, it’s not just us. Weird thing is, they’ve all been people who have rented from us for a long time.”

  “And they have to be tracked down?”

  “Most of the time,” he let a little chagrin coat his words. “Some are junkies, others get caught up in the thrill of whatever it is they do while doubling up. A few are just asshole crooks.”

  “Couldn’t you just let them keep the souls a little longer and bill them for another round?”

  “It’s a cash business, but that kind of a system wouldn’t work for long, regardless. Plus, they get a better fix if we freshen the goods. Rented souls aren’t meant to be permanently bound to another’s body. Fucked up shit can happen.”

  Callie wasn’t ready to know what those consequences entailed. “So it’s a safety thing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s a maintenance thing.” He shrugged, and then continued. “Usually they don’t put up a fight about giving it back. We just have to come to them.”

  “You make it sound like you don’t mind.” The familiar way he spoke about them reminded her of the way she talked about Josh. A hassle, but one you loved despite the drama.

  “They’re a big part of my job, and I’m not all blood and broken bones, you know.”

  “I know,” she whispered, as if the non-violent side of him was their secret.

  “Not sure why the ones who come to us the most are the ones bailing.”

  His confiding tone made Callie move closer to him on the couch. She rested her hand on his knee, and he sighed.

  “We should find out what Tess offers them,” she suggested. Oblivion? It had to be more than her kind demeanor.

  “Well, she’s making it a lot harder to make them pay their back rent the next time they come in.” Derek’s sour tone suggested maybe there was lost commission, too. At least the length of her indentured servitude wasn’t predicated on dollars earned.

  “Sure, but what are they going to do when they need another soul? You said these people are renting all the time from the Charmer.” The more Callie invested in Derek, the more she was bound to the Charmer. Danger was becoming normal.

  “Tess is already stealing from us. It won’t surprise me if she starts selling, too.” Defeatism didn’t suit Derek.

  “Bianca didn’t mention selling anything.”

  His wry smile should have worried her more, but Callie liked seeing him conniving. “Oh, so you’re ready to talk about your friendly chat with Bianca?” he asked.

  Callie sidestepped the opportunity to talk about her burning Tess’s subordinate. “She said the goal is to ‘purify’ everyone in Gem City. Is that woo-woo speak or does it make sense to you?”

  “Little of both. We need more information.”

  “Then let’s go get some.” She could help her protector. Did that make her strong? Or at least stronger? Pummeling the bad guys wasn’t in her repertoire—as long as some seared skin didn’t count—but she could help fix this problem.

  “You’re damn chipper tonight.” Bemused Derek was more fun than the sullen one.

  “I’m ninety percent sure Tess selling souls would equate to some sort of magical war. I don’t want to know if such things exist. So, yeah, I’m here to help.”

  He could throw some mean side eye. “Just to avoid seeing more magic?”

  And maybe to hang out with him, too. “I’m a shitty soldier.”

  His belly laugh shook the couch. Callie smiled and squeezed his thigh. “You underestimate yourself, doll. You did light that girl up last night.”

  She winced, but he smiled and continued. “That’s not a jab at you. We do what we have to around here. Keeping her at a distance was the right thing.”

  Scarring a person wasn’t ever going to be right, but she didn’t roll her eyes at his sincere attempt to comfort her. Callie’s morals might have slid down the bell curve a bit, but she hadn’t completely lost her grip on them, no matter what the Soul Charmer suggested. Still, Derek’s approval ebbed her guilt. Just a smidge. “Thanks.”

  “I’m not up for a turf war, either, so we should get going.” He checked his watch, and added, “Joey should be getting home in about twenty. His wife usually shows up about an hour from now.”

  “This is good?”

  Derek made the move of raising and lowering his broad shoulders look so simple. She’d had her hands on them. They were much more stone-like than his nonchalant shrug projected. “He’s a real pious type. Uses souls to pretend it’s not really him tapping hookers.”

  “I’ve got a cousin like that.”

  “We all do. Joey will talk because he doesn’t want his wife catching any hint he’s been using souls, let alone what they’re being used to do.”

  Derek laid his hand atop Callie’s. It still rested on his thigh, and the contact sent her heartbeat into overdrive, the sound pounding in her ears. He gave it a quick squeeze—not the tug to pull her closer she’d been hoping for—and then let go.

  Once he stood, he reached into his back pocket. The flask’s black stone glinted even in the dim light from her single, 40-watt lamp. She accepted it without a word. When her thumb brushed across the onyx, all her pores expanded at once as a rush of adrenaline coursed through her. Derek helped her with her coat. Its satiny interior was heaven. She wriggled more than necessary as her arms delighted in the sensation. At least, until Derek’s fingers brushed the side of her neck. She’d been wrong about heaven. This was more than turning flush—her skin positively danced with energy and heat.

  The change in her was obvious, and uncontrollable. Magic was a demanding mistress, and Callie didn’t yet know the rules. She rolled her head from side to side, as though she could cool her desire. She needed power over this. Derek loomed from behind. He no longer touched her, but she sensed him regardless. His breath fluttered past her ear in slow, even bursts.

  Space from him might allow her to rein this in. She edged a little closer to the door, but not the full step that might suggest an invitation to be pressed up against the cheap wood. Letting go of the flask in her pocket to wipe the fine mist of sweat on her brow was eerily difficult, but once her thumb left the smooth stone, the intense rush left her. Being sandwiched between Derek and the door still held great appeal, but she was no longer on the sexual razor’s edge. She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, and then grabbed the doorknob. Cold wind rushed into her apartment. The crisp air gave her a little more control, the ability to hide her almost-unhealthy attraction to Derek.

  He held her scarf out. “You’re going to need this tonight.” Was his throat raw, or was she imagining things?

  He didn’t make any extra efforts to touch her as they walked to the bike. He had to have been aware of how close she’d been to making a move. If only he would give her a sign that he wanted her to, it would allevi
ate some of her stress.

  Ford might have assumed her harried appearance earlier was the result of worrying about her brother, and having to deal with his kind of people. Earlier that day was the first time she’d wondered if this attraction to Derek wasn’t also playing a big part. She pursed her lips as she strapped on her helmet. Her desire for him was real. This wasn’t a trick of the Soul Charmer. That didn’t make it a good idea, and it didn’t mean the magical world around them wasn’t complicating the matter.

  Their relationship—whatever it was—was ideal while they rode his motorcycle. They didn’t have to talk, for one. As much as Callie appreciated solid boundaries and knowing where she stood, she was terrified of those conversations, of rejection. Derek couldn’t reject her over the sound of the motor and the wind whipping around them. They could both take comfort in one another’s touch without it getting weird. They didn’t need to talk about why her hands were wrapped around his waist, fingers just above his belt buckle. It was for safety. He’d told her to press against him to avoid the bulk of the wind. Maybe it was bullshit, but it didn’t matter. His warmth assuaged her fears, and the mix of leather and clean soap was so perfectly Derek it urged her to squeeze her legs a little tighter against his. The vibrations from the bike put them on the same frequency while they embraced. It was a simple joy, and Callie decided on the ride to quit thinking about it and simply enjoy the way his body was melting to hers.

  He stiffened as they slowed near a duplex with a manicured lawn on the north side of Gem City. Gone were the tile accents on adobe buildings and the fractured brickwork of downtown. The streets were brighter here, well-lit enough that she could spot the in-ground sprinkler systems spitting water on grass that shouldn’t grow in the desert. Derek had always parked at least a half block away from their target. Not this time. He was making his presence as obvious as possible from the outside. Joey would not only want them done talking by the time his wife returned, Derek pointed out, he’d want that hulking black bike off the street as well.

  Derek’s look—the leather, the motorcycle, the muscles—was inherently threatening, and to a degree it was posturing, but he could back it up. Lord, had he proved that. However, Callie knew he’d rather not if given the out. A softer side was buried beneath all that mean. She was attracted to more than the man’s broad shoulders and scarred knuckles, more than the soft way he touched her with roughened fingers. His street smarts were a damn big part of the reason she was locked on him. Callie nodded to the unbidden thought.