Lost Souls

by Chelsea Mueller

  The alley was empty of people, but full of garbage. The quick meal place on the corner had started leaving their trash bags next to the dumpster. Not that she’d ever rat on someone to the landlord, but it did make the journey to sinful escape a whole lot less desirable. The Soul Charmer said the seedier, the better when it comes to offering an out on guilt. If the competition was willing to roll up to wherever you were with a van full of goods, though, laziness probably trumped the visceral delight in doing something dirty. Speaking of vans, the black one wasn’t parked on the street, and it wasn’t tucked around back as best she could tell.

  She pushed the dilapidated door to her workplace open, and found Derek waiting for her alone. He was leaning against the counter, a single boot pressed back on the front surface. It would have been a casual rebel pose, if his eyes hadn’t flashed to her with heat and danger. Derek didn’t scare her, but in that moment she could see what their clients did. He was a mountain. This bulk of stony muscle. Every limb poised to strike, every angle of his body aggressive. His jaw clenched and released. She watched the muscle tic in slow motion. This customer-facing room still bore the Soul Charmer’s hallmarks of Cortean artwork, overwhelming incense, and aging everything, but it wasn’t the same room she’d left. The miasma of worry and violence and fear and regret in this room singed her sinuses and shot burning rubber behind her tongue.

  Others would have bolted from the room. Callie launched herself forward. Her chest slammed into Derek’s. His torso was unforgiving. She didn’t care. His arms dropped around her body. Her lungs strained to take a deep breath, but she didn’t dare tell him the hug was too tight. Whatever had put him on edge, he needed this. She nuzzled his chest, as if she could somehow get closer to him. He chuffed.

  “Thought I was going to have to come find you.” The sound vibrated against her cheek before she could process the words.

  “Thirty minutes or less. Your girlfriend promise.”

  “Better than a pizza.” He released the embrace, but took one of her hands in his. Soft, steady, and undemanding contact was exactly what she needed.

  “Did Beck not make it back?” she asked when she thought he could handle the question.

  “He’s downstairs.”

  She nodded like those two words were more helpful than they were. “Where’s the van?”

  “Moved it four blocks up. We don’t need Lexi’s crew to find her too soon.”

  “Lexi? Is that the woman’s name?”

  “That’s what her wallet says.” Derek didn’t bother hiding his amusement at someone working a dealing job carrying identification.

  “What has she said?” Was this woman another plant sent to fuck up Callie’s world? She shook off the thought. The card in the basement hadn’t been left to Callie, and they hadn’t called from her phone.

  “Not much. It was hard to wake her.” Derek shot a furtive glance toward the back curtain. When he spoke again it was in a low rumble. “What did you do to her anyway?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? She’d reached the bottom of her barrel of fucks to give, and now she’d started making demands of the magic. The Soul Charmer was MIA and it was like her abilities decided it was time to pick up the slack. The Charmer had infused her with the skill. Maybe this was him? Maybe he was dead and she was getting residual magic? She had no fucking clue. “Honestly? I don’t know how to explain it, but I knocked her out.”

  His brow furrowed like she’d handed him a calculus problem. “You punched her?”

  “Not exactly. Maybe? It was more like a mental shove.”

  He nodded slowly. “Like what you did to Savannah?”

  This had tasted different. It’d been on purpose. Examining that decision now wouldn’t help her mental state. “Close enough.”

  “She was damn hard to wake either way. Beck is keeping her company for now. He might have gotten something out of her.” Derek’s lack of optimism wasn’t a good sign.

  “As long as she can answer questions soon, that’s fine.” She needed to know what Nate was up to, what this woman knew.

  “You going to tell me what happened earlier?” He squeezed her hand, and that’s all the push he’d give.

  He deserved truth. “Adam showed up at Josh’s work. Asked how Zara was doing in the hospital.”

  “Josh told him?”

  “Josh didn’t realize it was fucked until Nate showed up. After that he realized maybe his sister was right—like always—and he should have been avoiding Adam all along. So he called me.”

  Derek took a half step backward, and met Callie’s eyes. “And you went to meet Nate and Adam alone. Without telling me.”

  “I did no such thing.” She placed her hand on his forearm, the touch as light as her words were firm. “I told you Josh had called. I told you to come for me if I wasn’t here in a reasonable timeframe and I did not talk to either Nate or Adam. They didn’t see me at all. What I did was find out what the hell was happening and check on my brother because I’m not about to let that skeevy soul stealing bitch take another of my family members.”

  Derek was quiet for long moments. Too long. Finally, though, he said, “I’m glad you told me before, and I’m glad you didn’t go after Nate.”

  That waver in his voice was enough to tell her that hulking mountain move was preparation for kicking down doors on her behalf. She hadn’t screwed this up. “I figured the only way to go after Nate is with more information and with you at my side.” It hadn’t sounded so mushy in her head. Aloud it was more than saying the L word. Heat scratched at her neck. She turned toward the front door, like a customer would make this less weird.

  “Damn right, doll.” Derek chuckled. “So what was Nate doing at the St. Jerome?”

  He remembered where Josh was working. She smiled and turned back to him. The humor faded when she answered, “Other than trying to get my brother to rent a soul for free from him? He was handing an Anonymous Souls card to the construction site boss.”

  Derek dropped her hand. “For fucking real?”

  He covered his mouth and started to pace. Callie was primed to commiserate in the WTFery, but the shop’s door opened.

  The woman who toddled in on stilettos picked the wrong time to pop in. “I’m here,” she announced like it meant something.

  “That’s nice,” Callie muttered.

  The woman opened her mouth again, but Derek spoke first. “Running a little late, Barbara.”

  Lovely. A return. Callie peeked at the time on her phone. She’d told Miguel and Savannah to send people in, and it looked like they were following through. Barbara’s four-inch heels pushed her up an inch taller than Callie’s five foot nothing, if you didn’t count the hair. The renter’s blonde mane was teased and spritzed to the point it had to be a fire hazard.

  “This winter weather has me in the holiday spirit. I’ve been decorating and it got the best of me.” Barbara’s white button-up blouse and perfectly lined red lips didn’t look like a woman who hadn’t been carrying boxes from the storage room.

  “You skip Thanksgiving in your house?” Derek was edging behind Barbara to block the door. He offered a half shrug to Callie. They needed the soul back, and apparently this one could be a runner.

  “I just love the Christmas season, and we should keep our Lord in our hearts all year don’t you think?”

  Come the fuck on. This woman had a rented soul nestled between her tits and she was here preaching about loving the baby Jesus? Whatever this lady did with the rented soul was her business, but the incredulity here was razing Callie’s already ragged nerves. “One should never skip a food holiday,” Callie said like it was a joke.

  The woman laughed. Derek’s somber nod, though, was the correct response. He understood.

  Callie walked over to the woman. The first flickers of fever tickled her skin. Callie grabbed the flask and the warmth faded. Callie didn’t want to feel this lady’s soul like she had Josh’s. She didn’t even know how to decide how much to push. Best
to stick with the basics.

  “How late returning is she?” Callie asked Derek.

  The tiny woman drew herself up to her full height and then some. “I’m here to see the Soul Charmer. He’s who I do business with.”

  Haughty tones would get this lady nowhere. “That’s nice. He put me in charge right now. You do business with me.”

  “I will do no such thing.” She pivoted on a wobbly heel toward the door.

  Derek was waiting. His arms were folded in front of his chest. He looked right over the woman’s head to maintain eye contact with Callie. He didn’t even acknowledge the woman, which only further incensed her.

  The woman began to sputter demands. Callie had no time for her. “Look, I can take the soul out of you either way. You might as well return your rented property, and get on with your Christmas decorating bullshit.”

  “Well…You can’t blaspheme like that!”

  “Look, Barbara, I’ve had a pretty bad day. I do not have the energy to pretend that you decorating for Christmas in November is interesting to me at all. Return the soul, and we can both be on our ways.” Callie was exhausted and she let it show. After this she was going to need to pop some energy shots before heading downstairs. Snoozing before interrogations was probably frowned upon.

  The woman sulked, but shuffled back toward Callie. A quick flip of the cap and a light connection of flask to sternum and the soul was safely extracted. Callie slipped the flask back in her pocket. Barbara turned to leave again.

  “How much does she owe?” Callie asked Derek.

  “Her bill is $375 last I checked,” he said without any inflection. He could be intimidating as fuck when he wanted, and right now Callie loved it.

  “Five hundred, please.” She said please because some customer service habits simply couldn’t be broken.

  Barbara was already backing away, and tucking her purse securely beneath her arm. “He just told you the bill is $375.”

  “Before taxes and fees.”

  “The Soul Charmer doesn’t charge taxes.”

  “Of course he does. He’s an upstanding citizen and remits sales tax on all services as required by state law.” The fact Callie managed not choke on her own laughter in this moment could only be attributed to the extreme stress she’d been under.

  “He pays it out of the price. It’s $375,” Barbara reiterated.

  Callie needed to be sure this woman wasn’t going to come back for a bit. They needed time to sort things out. It might not be good business, but Callie was too worn to care. “Right, and the remaining balance of $125 is what we call the asshole fee.”

  Barbara turned to Derek and stepped toe-to-toe with him. The lady had some guts. “Talk sense into her.”

  “Do you have $400 on you?” Derek asked her with a conspiratorial current.

  “Yes,” she said.

  They exchanged the cash, and he stopped blocking the exit. Barbara gripped the door handle. Over her shoulder she said, “I’ll be sure your employer hears about this.”

  When she was gone, Callie said, “If she can find the Charmer to tell him, I’ll deal with it.”

  “He likes extra cash,” Derek said.

  “Asshole fee goes to those who deal with them. That twenty five bucks is buying us beer later.”

  Derek kissed her forehead. “Celebratory beer.”

  “Perfect. Because whatever’s going to happen downstairs needs to happen quickly. If I’m right about Nate being involved in this Anonymous Souls racket, I expect we don’t have long before he makes a move.”

  The basement was colder at night. A wall of chemical stench concealed the musky scent she associated with the decrepit wooden stairs.

  “How much bleach did you use down here?” She blinked away tears, and her eyes adjusted.

  “Enough.”

  And then some.

  The door where she’d found Beck and Miguel earlier had been replaced with plywood and was now closed. A muffled male voice rumbled behind the makeshift door. The last person held in this room had been an Anonymous Souls dealer, and he was gone. The last time this chance had arisen, the Charmer disappeared and blood had splattered the floors. Callie didn’t know what safety steps Miguel or the Charmer had taken, but she wasn’t going into that room without Derek at her side.

  “We find out who’s fronting the business, if she knows what Nate is up to, and if she drops the Soul Charmer’s whereabouts great. And then we’re done, yeah?” Callie whispered, needing the confirmation.

  A single, heated grumble was all he offered, but it was agreement without words.

  Lexi’s head lolled to the side, but her eyes were open.

  “Just tell me where you got the souls, and then you can rest.” Beck’s plea played as genuine.

  The woman’s eyes fixed on Callie, and then narrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

  “How long has she been like this?” Callie asked.

  “Past twenty minutes or so. Whatever you did to her was no joke.” Beck didn’t look at Callie. Whether that was to keep focus on their guest or to avoid letting Callie see his fear, she wasn’t certain.

  Lexi’s lagging behavior and the drowsiness mimicked a concussion. Derek had asked if she’s punched Lexi. Maybe she had. Callie moved further into the room until she stood next to Beck. He offered her the lone stool, but she declined. Magic simmered beneath her feet. It wasn’t the creeping frost of soul renters or blaring heat of unprotected souls. This was new. It itched and tingled. She curled her toes inside her Chucks, and tried to focus on the ebbing sogginess from her snow steps earlier. The damp discomfort was expected, this pulling and scraping of her soles was definitively not.

  Callie took a single step backward and the sensation ceased. This was more than memories of her time with Tess giving her bad vibes. This was some kind of warning.

  With the biting at her heels soothed, she focused on the woman in front of her. Lexi’s wild curls were limp as though they’d lost their body when she hit the van’s floor. Callie didn’t really want to touch this woman’s soul. It wasn’t about invading the woman’s privacy. Hell, she’d knocked the woman out. It was the unknown. She couldn’t escape knowledge. You couldn’t throw the deuces and ditch out on what you saw in someone’s soul. She might not see anything. She hadn’t before. She’d ask the Soul Charmer if he was here, but once again she was left on her own. Trial by soul magic fire.

  He’d told her the souls talked to him. He could hear them. Could she choose to only eavesdrop and not know the soul? Beck was watching her now and not bothering to hide his concern. She didn’t have to peek over her shoulder to know Derek was directly behind her. He was watching, too, but had more patience.

  Okay, Callie, you can triage this.

  She prodded at Lexi’s soul. It was almost like the beautiful ball of translucent light was bruised. Winding paths of grey and blue wove over the right side. She pushed a little on them, and Lexi groaned. So souls could become concussed. You learn something new everyday.

  “Lexi?” Callie kept her voice gentle. “Do you know where you are?”

  “What the fuck kind of question is that?” Beck said under his breath.

  Callie ignored him. Lexi was quiet for a moment, and then said, “With Soul Charmer assholes.”

  “Good.”

  “We’re not the assholes,” Beck said.

  Callie smiled. “I just wanted to make sure she was coherent, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to think we’re assholes. I knocked her out and you tied her to that chair.”

  He looked like he was going to apologize, and this simply wasn’t the time or place. She waved him off.

  Callie imagined pressing a cold compress to the soul. She didn’t tell the guys because she was certain this was the closest to woo-woo magic shit that she’d ever gotten and she was not entirely comfortable with that. But Lexi’s soul was bruised, and if they could stop it from whatever the celestial equivalent of swelling was, that had to be a good choice.

 
Lexi lifted her head. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Helping you,” she said with all the softness she could muster.

  The scoff was scathing, but if Lexi had the energy to do that then she could probably answer questions.

  “And now it’s your turn. Care to tell us who you work for?” Callie’s voice was high, but cut with the edge of a threat.

  “You ordered a soul from them. Are you really that dumb?”

  Oh, good. Callie was tending this woman’s gateway to the afterlife and was getting name called in the process.

  “We know you work for Anonymous Souls,” Beck said. Could he hear Callie’s teeth grind? “The question is, who specifically is your boss? We want a name.”

  “It’s anonymous,” Lexi snapped.

  This woman was tired, and Callie could relate, but it was going to be hard to keep treating her metaphysical wounds if she was going to keep this up. They had to ease her into this, apparently.

  Callie pivoted the questions. “How were you going to give me the soul?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You had an aluminum jar. How were you going to get the soul out of it and into my body?”

  “Standard way.”

  Callie rolled her eyes, and her pressure on Lexi’s soul slipped. The other woman hissed a series of short breaths. Callie eased off. “How?”

  Lexi attempted to shrug against her bonds. “Tool of the trade. I’m sure you have one, too.”

  Callie send a questioning look Beck’s way.

  “No flask,” he said to Callie.

  “A quill, honey!” Lexi squeaked. Callie reassessed her magical compress and realized she was probably giving a little too much sweetness to the soul, but it was working so she tried to stay steady.

  “Where’s the quill?” Callie asked Lexi.

  The woman giggled.

  Callie glanced to Beck.

  “I didn’t see a quill,” he said.

  Derek wasn’t about to let them lose time. He stepped around Callie and gave Lexi a quick pat down. The brilliant blue quill had been tucked next to her calf inside her pant leg.