To Catch a Stolen Soul

by R. L. Naquin

  “Listen to me, Ash.” I squeezed her hand and held her gaze with mine. “You have to stop digging at that thing. On your eighteenth birthday, your gem should come in completely, and you’ll have magic. But only if you leave it alone. I’m hoping you haven’t done any lasting damage to it.”

  “I’m part djinn. You have to be kidding me.” Her words said she doubted, but her face said she believed me.

  I twisted my arm for her to see it closer. “That scar is because I was kidnapped once and they dug out my gem.” I grabbed her by the shoulders and got close. “Ash, it won’t ever grow back. Never. It’s gone. Please, please, please, stop messing with yours. Let it do its job.”

  She curled her legs under her and cradled her arm in her lap. “This is crazy.” Her voice was soft, and it sounded as if more tears weren’t far away. “Every home I went to thought I was crazy. ‘Careful of Ash. She’s a cutter.’” The wound had already scabbed over, and a hard lump appeared to be lurking under the surface. “Doctors made it seem like I stuck something in there so I’d get attention, or that I had a weird, psychosomatic disease.”

  I brushed a hank of hair behind her ear. “They were wrong. You’re perfect.”

  She shook her head. “No. That’s not all.”

  I had to lean forward to hear her. “What?”

  “They’re right. I am crazy.” She ducked her head. “Sometimes I see things, too.”

  “What things?” I lifted her chin with my fingers. “Tell me.”

  “Sometimes...sometimes I see demons in people’s faces.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, honey.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Those aren’t demons. Those are the Hidden. You’re seeing what’s under the human disguise. You’re one of them—sort of—so you can see through their disguise. They’re not demons.” I squeezed her and let go. “Have you been seeing them all along?”

  She shook her head. “Only over the last year. I never saw them before that.”

  “Oh. Of course not. They’ve only been out of the closet for a little while.” I patted her leg. “That had to be terrifying, not understanding what you were seeing.”

  “So, there aren’t demons?”

  “There are demons. Most of them are in another world, though. Like djinn. Mostly everything else is here, though.”

  “Like those cops.”

  “Yes!” I was excited until I realized what she’d seen. “Was that what upset you earlier?”

  She nodded. “The woman looked like a frog, and one of the guys was all hairy. The third guy seemed normal.”

  “Wrong. You just didn’t look down. He’s a gnome. Supershort.”

  “This can’t be real.”

  “It’s real. And now that you know, it’s going to make what comes next a hell of a lot easier.”

  “What comes next?”

  “Well, first, we’re probably going to stay up all night so I can tell you everything you didn’t grow up already knowing.” I took a bite of my sandwich. “After that, we have to use what little magic I’ve got to get a business going. We can’t live on sandwiches forever, and I have to solve a murder.”

  * * *

  I was only a little wrong. We didn’t stay up all night, but it was pretty late by the time we went to sleep. And we had to go out and take care of the truck around three in the morning in order to keep prying eyes from seeing any magical shenanigans.

  We crossed the parking lot in the dead of night. After the long, stressful day and waiting up half the night for the coast to be clear, we were past the threshold of tired and into that giddy area where everything was funnier than it should be. We kept shushing each other and giggling like a couple of twelve-year-olds at a slumber party.

  The truck was parked fairly close to a streetlight, which was fortunate. No one seemed to be around, but it gave us the ability to see what we were doing, at least enough to do the job.

  “You didn’t tell me what we’re selling yet.” Ash spoke in the stage whisper of a punch-drunk teenager. “At least give me a clue.”

  I winked at her and pointed to the faded teapot on the roof. I closed my eyes and heard her gasp. When I opened my eyes, the teapot was transformed into a genie lamp, complete with real steam puffing from the nozzle.

  “Awesome!” Ash clapped her hands in excitement. Then she stopped. “I don’t get it.”

  I closed my eyes again, imagining what I wanted. I hadn’t used any of my magic for about a week, so I’d been building up a little reserve. Not much, but enough to help us get started. A week’s worth of magic went only so far.

  When I opened my eyes, the truck was no longer decorated like a giant piece of delicate china. It was painted in shades of pink with gold edging and scrollwork, and scrawled across the side in pastel blue, it said Toast Genie.

  This time, I clapped my hands. “Yay! It’s perfect!”

  Ash laughed and looked at me sideways. “That was the coolest trick ever. Amazing! Now, seriously, what kind of truck are we going to have?”

  I gave her my most sober, serious face. “That’s it. We’re the Toast Genies.”

  “Toast.”

  “Superlow overhead, right? Lots of variations. And I’ll make us costumes. Don’t you love costumes? It’s the best part!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I flung my arm over her shoulder. “I never kid when it comes to business. We’re totally doing this.”

  I hoped it would work. In both magic and money, I was all in.

  And I still had to find the missing soul stone before it was too late.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite having so little sleep the night before, Ash and I both woke superearly. She’d already claimed the shower first, so I worked on a grocery list until it was my turn.

  When I was done with my shower, I found Ash at the table, shaking her wet head and mumbling to herself over the list.

  “I still don’t believe you think we can make money selling toast.”

  “We won’t, if you go in with that attitude.” I gave her a stern look. “Haven’t you learned that you have to believe it to see it?”

  She dropped the list on the table. “Don’t you mean ‘seeing is believing’?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, if you want the universe telling you what to do. I prefer to make the universe my bitch. You ready to go?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and fixed me with a doubtful stare. “Are you sure this is even legal? Don’t we have to have permits or a license or something?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. Do you think I’d risk the wrath of the health inspector gods?”

  She frowned. “There are health inspector gods? Are they...you know...monster things?”

  “Hidden. The word is Hidden. And no. I’m messing with you. But the OGREs have an agreement with the city. They monitor Hidden small businesses and provide the necessary permits on the city’s behalf. We’re okay to get started, and Truman will come by eventually and give us a once-over and our paperwork.”

  “I guess you’ve thought of everything. I’m impressed.”

  I grinned and picked up the grocery list. “Of course.” There was no way I was going to tell her I hadn’t thought about it at all. It was a good thing Truman was on the ball and knew what I’d need. I was clueless. No need to tell the kid that, though.

  We headed to the grocery store on foot, since it wasn’t far and parking the truck was a challenge.

  With so little money, we couldn’t buy a lot to get us started, especially since we needed nonedible items, like cleaning supplies, paper goods and a couple of cheap toasters. There wasn’t much left for food. We didn’t need much to start, though, which was good. We had to carry it all back. Several loaves of bread, butter, a couple of jams and another jar of peanut butt
er.

  “What about this?” Ash held up a spice jar filled with cinnamon and sugar.

  “Perfect! Toss it in.”

  We raced to the front to pay for everything. I thought for sure the checkout clerk would ask what we were up to, but he didn’t bat an eye.

  I did, when he rang up the total. In fact, I batted both eyes. I had less than ten dollars left. This really needed to work.

  We hurried the short distance to the motel, where we’d left the truck parked, unloaded our haul into the back of the Toast Genie and went back to the room.

  “So, now what?” Ash glanced around the room. I knew what she was looking for. It was the most important part of my plan.

  “Lay out an outfit you don’t think you’ll need for a while. It doesn’t have to be much. Just a shirt and pants.” As I directed her, I grabbed an old crop top and shorts of my own from my bag and placed them on the bed, adjusting them to look like a flat person were lying inside them.

  Once Ash had her clothes similarly arranged, I closed my eyes and saw what I wanted in my head. When Ash gasped, I opened my eyes.

  “I’m not wearing that.” Her eyes bugged at the gauzy pink material and tummy-baring pink velvet covered in tinkling gold coins.

  “Well, of course not. That one’s mine. You’re still underage.” I pointed at the spot where her tie-dyed shirt and jeans had been a moment before.

  She blinked. “Oh.” She plucked the baby blue puffy pants from the bed. Unlike mine, they were opaque. The matching top was dark, blue velvet with a gold sash, and the sheer sleeves ended in gold cuffs to conceal her wrists. “It’s so pretty.” Her eyes lit up, and she stripped off her street clothes so she could put on the genie costume.

  Once I was sure she liked her outfit, I put mine on. The cleavage was about as deep as it could get without having a wardrobe malfunction—though I imagined a nipple slip might sell even more toast. My legs might as well have been bare for all the pink material concealed.

  I was covered, as far as a health inspector could see. All my bits were in the dark. Everything else was up for grabs. Okay, not grabs. Up for peeks, maybe.

  At the last minute, I grabbed a couple of washcloths from the bathroom and tossed them next to each other on the bed. A second later, we each had tiny hats with soft, airy material to attach from ear to ear under our chins.

  Ash grabbed her hat and put it on. “Can you make anything?”

  “Within reason, if I’ve got enough magic loaded up. But I’m pretty much out for the moment. Changing an existing thing takes a lot less juice than creating something out of nothing.”

  While I’d been trapped inside the Master’s box all those years, he’d occasionally allowed me to watch television—once television existed, anyway. I’d watched every episode of I Dream of Jeannie. I loved that show. It was totally unrealistic, and if I were the type to get offended, I’d say it was completely offensive. But not really. It was fun. And I’d always wanted to wear her ridiculous outfit.

  So, sure. I jumped at the chance, and there I was, looking at a nearly exact replica of Barbara Eden’s Jeannie costume on my body—only more revealing. And Ash wore a blue version showing less skin.

  I was thoroughly satisfied with myself. “You ready?”

  Ash adjusted her tiny hat. “Let’s go sell some toast.”

  * * *

  When we pulled into the parking lot of the office park, there were only two other food trucks there. One was painted with giant cartoon sunflowers and said Sandra’s Local Flavors. The other was black and white with a bunch of headless birds flying all over it. It took me a moment to figure it out. The name on the side was The Burrito Bandito. After staring at it long enough, I realized the headless birds were supposed to be winged burritos.

  I snickered. “This is going to be too easy.”

  Ash unbuckled her seat belt. “Rush hour is going to start soon. We’d better get set up before people start coming into work.”

  She was right. We were only the third truck to arrive, but already I spotted another coming around the corner to line up with us. I joined Ash in the back to shove a variety of bread loaves in a bin. I stacked paper plates, laid out plastic knives to spread things with and lined up my toppings of butters, jams and sugars while Ash unboxed our new toasters and plugged them in.

  Once we set everything up, we went outside and opened our window. I started up the generator to give us power, and Ash wrote out our menu and prices in chalk on the board next to the window.

  Meanwhile, the windows on the other trucks were still down. Prepping to sell toast didn’t take nearly as much time as...well...anything else.

  Ash went back into the truck to fuss with the prep layout, so I took advantage of the lull to check out the area.

  The trucks were parked side by side under a line of trees at the far edge of the parking lot that served several tall buildings. I glanced up at all the windows in those buildings and imagined the stuffy offices, the cubicle farms and the atriums filled with miserable plants longing to feel direct sunshine that didn’t stream through glass.

  A piece of me would probably die a little every day cooped up in there. The buildings were lovely to look at, shining in the morning light. But the box the Master had kept me in for most of a century had been beautiful, too, crafted of rich, ornately carved mahogany, inlaid with precious jewels and bound with strips of leather made from the hide of a white tiger.

  I’d take my chances with the food truck. At least with that, there were two exits.

  Two new trucks had slid in next to us, The Baconator and Doodlebug Cookies. I heard activity coming from inside, but no one had come out yet. I stepped into the grass at the curb to get a better look at the buildings across the street, outside the business park.

  It was a busy street. The businesses on the other side weren’t very interesting—a real estate agent, a tax office, a bank and a place to get oil changed. The only thing worth looking at was a diner that appeared to be on its way out. The name on the neon sign said Merle’s, but a couple of letters had burned out, making it look more like erl ’s. There wasn’t much traffic going in or out, but a woman pushing a shopping cart filled with bags of stuff disappeared down the alley between Merle’s and the bank next to it.

  A shadow crossed in front of me. “It’s a shame about Merle’s. Used to be a really good place to eat, but they let it go.”

  I turned and found a tall woman with short dark hair and blue eyes. She stuck her hand out, and I shook it. “Hi. I’m Kam.”

  She smiled, and her expression was kind. “Sandra. Nice outfit. Are you really set on just selling toast?”

  “Sure. Who doesn’t like toast?”

  Her eyes sparkled and turned up at the corners. She had pretty crinkles there, like smiling was something she’d done a lot of in her lifetime. “You know, I never thought about it that way.” She glanced at her truck and back to me. “I have to finish setting up, but I wanted to welcome you to the Posse and wish you luck. You need anything, come on over. I’ll be happy to help.”

  What a nice lady. Was it too soon in the relationship to grab her and give her a hug? Yeah. Probably too soon. I wouldn’t want to freak her out.

  Truman had assured me that everyone in this food truck group was Hidden. I squinted in the shadow of the trucks and didn’t see anything unusual about her face. Of course, that could mean she was like me—able to pass as human without assistance. She turned her head to watch a crow fly off, and I caught a glimmer of her true form. One pointed ear poked out through her hair before disappearing under the disguise.

  Sandra was an elf. Ah.

  I grinned, delighted. I hadn’t met many elves in my life. “Thanks, Sandra. I appreciate it. See you later!”

  I walked around the trucks, admiring their decorations and wondering about the people inside. I
f their personalities were all like Sandra’s, questioning them in an attempt to solve the mystery would be a pleasure.

  As I strolled past the Baconator, a tall guy with a beard and a bush of brown hair stepped out to open their window. He looked me up and down once, lifted his chin. “Hey.” His disguise shifted, and the hair disappeared. His eyes were triple the size of human eyes and were a bright yellow.

  I waved. “Hey.”

  Having greeted me, he lifted the awning on the truck, set out a sandwich board with his menu scrawled on it, then went back in. A second guy—older than the first guy, maybe in his midforties—stuck his dimpled face out the window and stared at me, grinning.

  He too had large, bright yellow eyes beneath his human ones, and his bony arms hung from his sleeves much longer than the human arms fitted for the shirt. My guess was they were some sort of monster—closet, under-the-bed. Maybe attic monsters. The deep shadows under their eye sockets were a feature I hadn’t seen before. I knew a closet monster and an under-the-bed monster, and they didn’t have those shadows. Maybe these guys were under-the-stairs monsters. Was it rude to ask?

  “Well, hi! I’m Aaron. That was my brother, Zack. Welcome to the Posse!”

  “Thanks, Aaron!” I waved, and my entire outfit jingled.

  A blonde stepped out of the next truck, scowling. “Aaron, pull your tongue in.” She gave me a once-over. “I’m Lisa. Ignore him. He’s a big perv.”

  I stuck my hand out, but she didn’t shake it. “I’ll steer clear. Thanks for the advice.”

  She eyed me again, then looked at my truck. Under her human face and figure, she shrank to waist high. Her skin was a dark brown, and her ears were pointed. Lisa was a brownie. “Toast, huh? Well, if you’re not going to cook anything, I suppose you need a gimmick. Can’t hurt, I guess.” She pulled up her awning and set a whiteboard on the sill by her sliding window. “Good luck.” She disappeared into her tiny bakeshop on wheels.