She had rescued him from that den of depravity, and then tucked him into her bed. Now her battered brain flitted between worry for the man she cared for and dread that he’d reject her once he knew what she’d done to collect him.
Trading one worry for a lesser one wasn’t healthy, but she wasn’t about to become a yogi anyway. Digging into her task for Ford should have been terrifying, but her nerves were fried. The blueprints Ford had provided seemed straightforward. At least something was. Callie pinched the bridge of her nose. Easy plans didn’t exist. Their extraction of Tess proved that.
She headed to the bedroom at the sound of a muffled groan. Derek was sprawled across her bed. She’d stripped him of his jacket and shirt when they’d returned from the Charmer’s. He’d curled into a ball and fallen asleep quickly. Now, though, he’d opted for a starfish position. She sat in one of the two open spaces on the bed, her hip next to his.
“How are you feeling?” She hadn’t soothed anyone in a long time. Was she doing it right?
“Like someone stabbed me in the chest.” His road-rashed voice made her wince.
“At least you weren’t shot?” Probably not the right thing to say.
He gave a single laugh, but the force made him cough. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Callie didn’t wipe them away. Tucking him into bed and offering him pain killers was one thing, but drying tears was another.
She glanced toward the bathroom. The fact that he was conscious meant the pills were wearing off. “Sorry.”
“No need, doll,” he croaked.
“You want another Vicodin?” He hadn’t asked why she had a stash. It was nice not to be questioned.
“In a few. I’ll be functional tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “Blood loss is warping your sense of time. It was a deep cut, too. You’ll be out of commission for a bit.”
“Charmer’s stuff works fast.”
His blackmail sure got her into that basement lickety split. She stowed her guilt. “Says the man groaning in bed.”
“You like when I groan in bed.” Even injured, he could get her blood pumping. Like sex was a good idea right now.
“I only like it if I’m the one making you groan. Now, seriously, you need rest.”
Derek grabbed her hand as she started to stand. “I’ll be on my feet in the morning. Don’t worry about the shit with Ford. I’ll still be there to help.”
She needed to work on her poker face. “You can’t go with me anyway—”
“I can’t go inside. We talked about this. I’ll be there.”
“You need to heal.”
“His magic has fixed more than a slice of my flesh before. Trust me.”
God, she did, and it turned her stomach. What other injuries had Derek received while working for that man? How many times had he been revived by magic? He wouldn’t let another soul touch his, but there had to be consequences to this type of thing as well.
“Why work for him?” she whispered as the thoughts coalesced.
“It’s what I’m good at, and my loyalty is valued there.” The hardness in his voice was full of pain, but it had nothing to do with the stitched wound on his chest. It slammed the door on the conversation, but told her more than enough. He owed the Charmer. She sensed it wasn’t an indentured servitude like hers, but whatever it was, it was big. And he did not want to discuss it.
Letting it slide was the adult thing to do. Being an adult sucked. “Understood. You still want that pill?”
He gave her a weak smile. “Yeah.”
Once Derek was snoozing again, she returned to memorizing her heist plans. The petty crimes in her past hadn’t prepared Callie for a task of this magnitude. The closest to on-site police she’d gotten was a mall rent-a-cop, and it wasn’t exactly difficult to evade a man who was forty pounds overweight. Desk jockey police might not be in their prime, but they’d catch her or shoot her. Guns were a factor she hated having to contemplate.
What kind of favor would the Soul Charmer demand in exchange for healing a bullet wound? She’d be indebted for a year, at least. One would think the fear of being shot would be at the top of her terror list, but it’s what would happen after the bullet hit her that scared Callie the most.
If she designed a government building, she’d make it a maze. Gem City Police apparently didn’t agree, or maybe they didn’t expect bad guys to want to break into their facilities. Either way, the path to the server storage room was simple. She’d walk one hallway until it ended, take a left, and the door would be there. It was in the center of the building, but not exactly hard to access. Blueprints were deceptive, though. The printouts on their own wouldn’t show all the opportunities for things to go to shit.
Ford or one of his men, however, had been kind enough to outline those helpful notes onto the page. Locked doorways and keypads were marked, as was the main desk where she’d have to check in. They’d included a card in the envelope that would gain Callie access first to the building and then into the forensics storage room, but not a script for what to say to the cop at the entrance. There also weren’t instructions for a contingency plan. At least Ford was confident the access card would function. The server room required a six-digit code to enter. They changed it weekly, but supposedly the one on the sheet from the mafia king would work.
The numbers meant nothing to her, though, and her mind didn’t want to commit them to memory. They weren’t from a song and didn’t include any former addresses or lucky numbers. She swiped a hand across her forehead, displeased to discover she’d worked up a sweat like she was back in middle school studying for an American History test.
Memorizing every sequence of numbers in the world wasn’t going to guarantee the job would be a success. The soul part—which she strived to pretend was totally normal and not terrifying—would mask her DNA and fingerprints. Unless she became the first person ever to pull off inconspicuously wearing a black ski mask inside a police station, cameras were going to catch her face. Ford had been confident the soul was necessary. Hopefully her face would blur while she was doubled on souls. She hadn’t heard of that being a thing, but she was only an “insider” on this magic shit for a couple weeks. She had to cross her fingers that’d work, because the chance of spending the next decade in an orange jumpsuit wasn’t calming Callie’s nerves.
Derek didn’t need to know about her camera fears, because then he’d offer to help her. When Derek learned what she’d done to Tess, what it’d taken to get him out of the Charmer’s for the night, he wasn’t going to want to be in any deeper with her. He’d liked that she was morally good, and that couldn’t last when you seared the skin off another person. Best to make her own plans now and save him the additional hurt.
Callie jumped when her phone rang. Nothing said you were definitely, totally ready for a master break-in like being scared of your phone. She silenced the ringer, then answered. “Hello?”
“How’s it going, sis?”
She peeked in on Derek. Once she was confident he was still sleeping, she pulled the door shut and replied in a dark hiss, “Dangerous question, Josh.”
“You’re still going through with it, right?” Panic made him squeaky.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, I’m still going through with it.” Did he think so little of her?
His sigh muffled all other sound on the line. “Good. I mean, thanks.”
“Are you being taken care of?” Concern began to twist in her chest.
“I’m still whole and they’re feeding me. No worries. As long as they get what they want, we’ll both be fine.”
Callie frowned. That didn’t sound like Josh at all. “Are you reading from a script?”
“No, but everyone’s real clear on what needs to happen. I need to know you’re clear, too.”
“Crystal.” Her throat squeezed.
“How’s Mom?” His question startled her.
“Fine. Fucking cat hid in the cupboard again. She wanted you to rescue him.”
“She does better when she’s around family.”
What the hell? He loved laying the bait out for her. “Since when? She’s batshit around me.”
“She isn’t good at expressing it. I’m more like her, you know?” His words underscored the hidden message: but you take care of me.
He did this needling when he wanted guilt hanging like heavy chains around Callie’s neck. “You didn’t call to talk about Mom.”
“I wanted to make sure you were ready for tomorrow. Soon this will be over, and I’ll be back home.”
“And done with that junk?”
“I’m done with all this. But I don’t have a chance unless you hold up your end.”
Alarms flared in her mind, but her mouth didn’t care. “I’m the one who always follows through, Josh. Don’t forget.”
“I’m so much like Mom. I just need to know you have my back.”
An invisible knife cut deep into Callie’s waist. “I’ve always had your back.” She spoke slowly, like it could actually cool her anger. It didn’t work.
“Sure. I’ve just never fucked up this bad.” His nervous laugh did nothing for her.
He wanted to go into the past. She followed him, like always. “I called them on her because she was a danger to me. You were gone.”
“I know,” he said, repeating those placating words. She’d heard them so many times they no longer held any meaning or sincerity.
“Sure.” Child Protective Services had been happy to separate her from her habitually neglectful mother. Her brother hadn’t stepped in after he’d moved out. He’d been busy working or, at least he’d said he was at the time. Later she realized he’d just been getting high. Zara went off the deep end when Josh left. She stole the food Callie brought home and left her alone for weeks. So, yeah, Callie had made an anonymous tip about her mother. Josh had agreed to sign the papers to be her legal guardian. He helped save her from Zara, and let her be an unofficial emancipated minor. He’d kept the secret of how CPS got involved from Zara, but his own guilt over what they’d done sent him begging at their mother’s feet for love (and secretly, forgiveness) every chance he got.
“We’ve got each other’s backs when it’s most important. I know you’ll come through, baby sis. I believe you.”
He was right about that. No matter how much he drove her crazy, Josh would have her back. He simply hadn’t had the capacity to do so lately. Sober Josh, though? He was a man you wanted in your corner. Derek could be friends with Sober Josh. Callie bit her tongue. No need to share that thought with either of them. One step at a time.
—— CHAPTER TWENTY ——
“You’ve got to take that thing in for me.” Callie foisted the soul-filled flask at Derek. She couldn’t face the Soul Charmer again. She didn’t want to know if Tess was still in the basement. She didn’t need to see the burns on the woman’s legs again. The Charmer wouldn’t resist taunting her in front of Derek. She might not climb out of the well of shame after that.
He stepped backward. “Nope.”
“The Charmer likes you better. It’ll be easier for you.”
“He likes you just fine.”
“You wouldn’t be fit to collect souls today if he hadn’t worked his mojo on you. Clearly, this means you’re his golden boy—which, ew—but go with it.”
Derek pulled her close and his laugher shook her chest, too, lightening her thoughts. “Fine. I’ll take it, but not because it’s easier for me.”
Tilting her head as far back as she could, Callie met his gaze. “My feminine wiles got to you. Finally.”
“My desire to keep you out of jail trumps your wiles.” The quick squeeze he gave her rear was possessive and flirty. Whatever concoction the Charmer had used on him, he was top-notch Derek today. Much of her leftover regret at going to the Soul Charmer’s shop evaporated with that realization.
“Though, feel free to seduce me at your leisure, doll,” he added.
Derek was determined to collect souls that morning. Wounds be damned. He would have found a way to go even without her blessing, so she had agreed in the name of keeping him whole. She needed to balance out the heals/hurts scale after last night. The Railyard District made Callie cringe, but ostensibly the soul renters there were artists, and were quick to give up their borrowed souls so they could get back to blowing glass and welding metal. Derek had suggested she meet him there for brunch, but she was not going to try vegan omelets, even on someone else’s dime.
Despite the magic and everything that had happened with Tess, the mood was light. Derek’s healing deserved the credit. His chest was still tender, but the wound was already closed. At noon all that was left was a dark magenta streak. No matter her stance on soul magic and the bastards who used it, Callie had to admit it was pretty badass.
The levity from his recovery couldn’t overshadow what was to come hours later. Taking the step from petty thief to legit criminal hadn’t ever been on Callie’s life agenda. It was going to happen, though. Tonight. And she still needed a way to halt Derek’s involvement. His feelings for her were destined to implode when he learned she’d tortured Tess. He let people think he’d kill them, but he didn’t leave scars on his marks. Callie had done real damage. It’d be doubly disastrous if he had guilt from helping her with a police break-in. Joy receded from her body, seeping from her bared feet and burying itself in the thin carpet. She probably needed to vacuum.
Callie shuffled the police documents Ford had provided. She recited the access code to the server room, and then peeked at her cheat sheet. This morning, on her way back from the handoff with Benny, she’d remembered the code correctly for the first time, and now she had the numbers down pat.
Three quick raps at her door echoed in her empty apartment. Why was Derek back so soon?
“You forget something—” Speaking while opening the door turned out to be a rookie move. Her hands began to cool immediately.
“Tell me what you did.” Zara shoved past Callie, clocking her shoulder hard enough a bruise would develop by morning.
“Nice to see you, too.” She didn’t bother rubbing at her stinging shoulder. Zara didn’t deserve the satisfaction, and it wouldn’t ease her pain or warm her hands. She gave her mom enough space to keep the icy sensation in check.
Zara’s fingers were curled into little fists that she slammed on her hips. The move might have frightened ten-year-old Callie, but she’d had a decade to get past her mom’s scare tactics. Zara’s blouse—a peasant top whirled with mish-mashed colors—fluttered as she huffed. As though an angry sigh would explain anything to Callie.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mom.” Josh wouldn’t have divulged about CPS. No way. Not when he was still on the chopping block, damn near literally.
“I went to get my … relief today, and my masseuse was missing. Tess. I guess you know her, and ran her off with some thug.”
A cartoon anvil could have dropped on Callie’s head right then. She locked her jaw and counted to ten before responding. “You know Tess?” Her words were shaky, but the underlining fury rang clear.
“Yes!” Zara was a petite woman under normal circumstances, but as she threw her hands skyward she morphed into a colossus in the one-bedroom apartment. “She helps relieve my stress, and now I can’t get her help because of you.”
Callie shook her head. Tess hadn’t lied. It’d be damn dangerous for Zara to start telling people about Tess and Bianca’s underhanded dealings or their rocky relationship with the Soul Charmer. “What makes you think I have a thing to do with you not being able to get a massage?”
“Her assistant said to talk to you.” The accusation was empty. So she didn’t know as much as Callie had feared. Zara no longer overwhelmed the room. In fact, from the few inches Callie stood taller than her mother, she spied Zara’s roots beginning to show.
If her mother knew, who else might have details about Callie’s involvement in Tess’s capture?
“Mhm, and what else did her assis
tant say?” Years of playing it cool around her mother paid off.
Zara’s nostrils flared. Funny how calm confidence could make the bullies quake. “She said you knew where Tess was.” Her voice trailed off, her power diminishing.
“You can throw a rock in Gem City and hit a massage therapist. Get a new one.”
Zara took a seat on the couch. Not that she’d been invited to make herself comfortable. Or steal Derek’s spot. Callie clenched her jaw, but parried her blows for what mattered: getting Zara the hell out of her house.
“Tess is so much more.” The ethereal allegiance in Zara’s words was too much.
Callie cut her off. “She’s not good for you.”
“She helps me!”
So that’s where Josh got it. “Lots of people can help you.”
“You’ve never understood. Not everyone is as well-adjusted as you. We can’t just be okay.”
Be. Okay. Was that even a thing? “Are you new? Since when am I living the choice life?”
“Please. You lord your stability over us and then have the audacity to bitch about your bills.”
“I haven’t said shit about bills to you since I was fourteen and you decided the gas bill was less important than a bar night with the girls.” Callie needed to be in a Zen state of mind to pull off this bullshit for Ford tonight, and Zara was not fucking helping.
“Josh told me about how you couldn’t help your own brother out because you owed money.”
“I don’t ‘owe money,’ Mom. I have bills, and, yeah, I don’t have a bunch of cash for him because I’ve already given my savings to him twice. I’m wiped. He’s been using us for years.”
“He’s getting clean. He called me earlier. Said he’s detoxing.”
No, no, no. “Josh called you today?”
“He did, and he asked for my help. He cares about his mama.”
Callie was breaking more laws than she cared to count, working double shifts—first at the home, and then for the Charmer—and to Josh it still wasn’t enough. “What did he ask for?”
Borrowed Souls: A Soul Charmer Novel Page 24