Lost Souls (Soul Charmer Book 3)

by Chelsea Mueller

  Her joints were growing stiff from the magic. If only her brother could have avoided the Soul Charmer’s wares. If only she knew how to repair a torn soul. She didn’t, though, and so she had to back away. The hospital’s beacon of light now loomed behind them, a stalwart reminder of how vastly shit had gone wrong.

  Callie stepped back far enough to melt the ice on her skin, and to have Derek at her side. She wasn’t quite steady yet when she asked, “Is she okay?”

  Josh shoved both his hands into the single front pocket of his hoodie. He pushed them down until the rumpled cotton was taut over his shoulders. Only then did he look at Callie. His eyes were bloodshot. Whatever sibling bond they’d revived was already disintegrating.

  “Her ribs are busted, and they put seven stitches in her head.” He spat into the snow.

  Facial wounds always looked more severe than they were, Callie reminded herself. Seven sutures on a forehead were about minimizing a scar, not worrying about big-time damage. Maybe this was something she could come back from. Maybe it’s something they all could come back from.

  Josh wasn’t done, though. “She’s missing fingers, Callie. Fingers.”

  Her brother had barricaded his fear, but the claw marks of its attempted escape were obvious in his too tight jaw and hardened gaze. Callie tried to cage her own. Burying the scream chiseling at her collarbone wasn’t easy.

  “Could they reattach them?”

  “Callie, our mom has been mutilated and you’re asking about reattaching fingers?”

  “I have them,” she blurted.

  “What?”

  “I told you! Nate was behind this. He sent them as a threat.”

  “You have her fingers?” Each word dripped with more incredulity than the last.

  Callie bit the inside of her cheek. She was trying to be helpful, but this was already going sideways. Derek tensed at her side.

  “We kept them safe so they could reattach. If you think they still can, we’ll bring them,” Derek said with more focus than Callie could have mustered.

  “I don’t fucking know. They didn’t ask if we had the fingers—” Josh paced left and right “but who the fuck would have the fingers?”

  This was more familiar ground. “Lots of people who hurt themselves in their garages building shit bring in the fingers.”

  Josh glared at her. “I don’t think they will believe Mom was building a table or some bullshit. You don’t bust open your head and break ribs building a table.”

  No, she supposed not. “Fine, but if they want them…”

  “Yeah. Got it.” Josh was watching Derek now. “What are you doing here? What’s your deal in this?”

  Derek didn’t hesitate. “Where she goes, I go. That’s my deal.”

  Josh huffed, but the wind caught the sound.

  They needed to focus. The longer they were in this parking lot, the more likely eyes would be on them. And the longer Zara would be alone.

  Josh lit a cigarette. “Told them I was leaving for a smoke.”

  “Okay. Is she awake?” The words ground against her teeth, leaving sour sand behind.

  “Kind of. She’s out of it. They gave her drugs, but nothing great because they’re monitoring her brain.”

  “I’m sure they’ll give her the good drugs soon,” Callie lied. Until they were confident of her cognitive function, she wasn’t getting the make-you-sleep shit.

  “Are you going to be able to visit her tomorrow or are you still tied up in whatever shit they’ve gotten you into?” The hostility in her brother’s voice surprised Callie more than the abrupt change of topic.

  Callie hesitated, but Derek didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t forget your role in putting her in Ford and Nate’s sights. Now ain’t the time to be pointing fingers, kid.”

  Josh took a step forward, but his glower couldn’t touch Derek. “I don’t remember asking you.”

  “Stop.” The word was a plea, but both men listened. “Josh, thank you for coming to help. We both agreed to avoid the cops on this. Mom is safe, but I’m not yet.”

  “He thinks he can keep you safe?” Josh jutted a thumb toward Derek.

  “He will,” Derek vowed.

  Testosterone thickened the air, stinging her sinuses. “Get over yourselves,” she muttered to herself. Louder, she continued, “Look, I need time to make sure I’m safe and to deal with this mess. Do you think you could watch out for Mom for at least another day or two?”

  “I have to work, Callie. Not a lot of places want to hire a guy like me.” It was the first time Callie had ever heard Josh acknowledge the consequences of his drug use.

  It was huge, and she wasn’t about to ruin it.

  “You’re right,” she said. Derek stiffened at her side, but didn’t interrupt. “Do you think we could get Aunt Lily to come help?”

  “Yeah. I could call her,” Josh said slowly. He probably hadn’t talked to their favorite aunt since he’d gotten clean.

  “Thanks. Let me know if she can’t help, and we’ll hit up Serena or Ray.” It sounded like a solid plan even if they were banking on other Delgados to take care of Zara for them.

  Josh took a long drag from his cigarette, and then nodded.

  “She said you knew Adam.” Derek was trying to use his kind voice, but the stress of the situation still scraped his throat when he spoke.

  “Like I told her. His brother’s a good dude, and so yeah Adam comes around the job sites. He’s chill. Nothing to worry about.”

  Callie tried to ignore the vast sea of differing experiences between she and her brother. Offering trust was a kindness to yourself. The walls one had to build to protect a battered heart were tedious to maintain, but Callie couldn’t give everyone that kind of access. Josh shouldn’t either. His meth dealer liked to invite him over to play video games. That didn’t mean they were friends. That was business strategy. That was come by so I can continue to keep you addicted and sell you more shit that will rot your veins. Even now Callie doubted Josh saw it that way. She couldn’t let him go on thinking Adam was safe, though.

  “Avoid Adam.” Her words were a command.

  “You’re overreacting—”

  “Josh! Look at me. Adam was the bagman for the ransom that got us Mom back. He knew what they had done to her, and was fine with it.”

  Josh flicked his cigarette out into the snow. “Naw. He probably didn’t know it was our mom. He probably thought it was some smack or meth.”

  “He handed me Mom’s bloody shirt, Josh. He smiled when he did it. He fucking knew.”

  Josh paled. Good.

  “Please promise me you’ll keep as far away from him as possible.” Please please please.

  He ducked his head for a moment. His lips were pursed. When he met her gaze again, he said, “I’m all about a low profile these days. No need to catch his attention.”

  “Smart man,” Derek said with the right amount of approval to earn a half smile from Josh.

  Callie hugged her brother again, quickly, but didn’t say anything. The problem with being from a family of conmen and thieves? Your family will always know when you’re lying. Josh hurried back toward the hospital and Zara in her critical condition, and Callie tried not to worry about what would happen when he next saw Adam.

  Once her brother was back in the building, Callie and Derek left the hospital. No one followed them. Derek drove Callie to her car, and then he followed her back to his place.

  The bougainvillea beside his front door had already lost its beautiful fuchsia petals. Now, beneath the yellow glow from the lone bulb out front, the branches bent and bowed beneath the increasing weight of the snow. Callie gave the bush a nudge with her toe to shake the worst of the snow away, and hoped the little plant would make it through the winter to blossom again. Derek unlocked the front door, and ushered her inside.

  Warm, dry air welcomed them into his townhome. Callie took off her coat and laid it over the back of the couch.

  “You want a drink?” Derek asked. He d
ropped his jacket over the back of a barstool.

  Callie walked around to the front of the sofa. It was low and square. The modern styling looked stiff, but she’d found it was the right amount of plush. She sunk into corner seat. Her elbow rested on the back, and she propped her chin on her hand.

  The long look she gave Derek must have been an answer.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” There was no judgment from Derek.

  He poured a screwdriver, and brought it to her. “Figured you could use the Vitamin C.”

  Callie smiled, and her cheeks stung. She didn’t know if the sharp pain was from the chap of wind, the ice of magic, or not eating much for days. At this point, it didn’t matter the source.

  “Thanks,” she said before taking a sip. The drink was bright and boozy.

  He sat next to her, and sipped his drink. When Derek’s eyes closed, she could see the worry cutting around his eyes and tugging his shoulders together. She understood. Fatigue weighed her muscles until every movement felt like an underwater battle. The aching tension in her calves was undeniable and more than just a potassium deficiency. Everything hurt, but at least she wasn’t broken. This was temporary.

  She sat up a little straighter, and extended her arm until her hand cupped the back of his neck. Derek’s warm chuff only encouraged her. She pressed and rolled her fingers against the steel rods he had for tendons. She nudged and soothed and as the minutes ticked by his shoulders began to ease down and his head started to tilt back. She doubted she could relax, but it eased her heart to be able to give him some respite.

  Callie took another sip of her vodka and OJ. It was heavy enough on the former to burn her throat.

  Derek’s eyes were still closed when he asked, “You want me to build a fire?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I know.” He opened his eyes. “You also need to sleep.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “You do, too.”

  He nudged the bottom of her glass with his knuckle. “Finish up.”

  She knocked the drink back, and let the bite remind her she had survived the day. Derek finished his own drink, and then in a quick motion stood and scooped Callie up in his arms.

  “Totally not necessary.” Her protest was half-assed.

  “You need rest, doll. I am to see you finally get it.”

  The liquor softened her head and Derek did the same to her heart.

  “Fine.”

  Callie was asleep before Derek even climbed into the bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The pale glow of daylight brightened Derek’s bedroom. Callie rolled over to put the curtained window at her back. Her head throbbed. If the sun had already crested the house to make it to the back window, even the grey fabric Derek had hung over the window couldn’t buy her more time.

  The bed sagged on her side. “Callie?” Derek’s sour tone didn’t match his sleep-smashed hair.

  Callie brushed her fingertips over his locks. The short strands were soft, and she smoothed them back. “Hmm?”

  “I hate to wake you, doll—”

  “Then don’t. Climb back in with me. Our problems can wait a few more hours.” Sleep was good on her. The playful tone in her voice was off from disuse, but she aimed to fix that.

  She tugged Derek down, and then arched up to meet him. Her breasts grazed his chest, and his groan was a curse. She pressed her lips to his and swallowed the sound. The dark rumble vibrated against her sternum, making her feel dainty and precious. Against Derek like this she wasn’t teeming with soul magic power. No, she was swathed in desire and hope and it’d been too long since she let them override her mind. Bubbles tickled her stomach, and something darker warmed even lower.

  Derek’s fingers dug into Callie’s shoulder. She nipped his lower lip.

  “Doll. Callie. Wait,” he said between breathless kisses.

  “Wait?” She paused, holding a breath deep in her lungs. Holding back the need to push.

  His calloused thumb skated across her lower lip. “My gorgeous woman.” He sighed like everything could be okay, but this was Gem City. “I wish we could do this now. Fuck. You have no idea how much I wish we could do this right now.” His words were half groan, half plea.

  She arched a little in a way that made him close his eyes and clench his jaw. His need grounded her. She was safe here, in this bed, with him.

  The safety couldn’t last.

  He wet his lips. “I’m so sorry, Callie. The Charmer called.”

  That name was cold water to the face. Callie sank back against the sheets. “I thought we agreed not to mention his name in bed?”

  Derek didn’t take the bait. All levity was gone. “He’s called an all-hands meeting.”

  The hollow depths of his voice conveyed the gravity, but Callie didn’t understand the words. “Is that concerning?”

  “It means something is fucked.”

  “How fucked?”

  “He didn’t demand every person show up armed when Tess was stealing from him.”

  Oh. This was ‘burn the city to the ground’ bad.

  She understood. She’d experienced the vitriol and the vehemence from the Soul Charmer when he realized Tess was taking souls that belonged to him. He’d demanded Callie and Derek exact results with fire. If that didn’t warrant sounding the alarms what did? “What could be....” she trailed off. Maybe she didn’t want to know.

  Derek’s lips thinned. “I’m not going to guess, doll. It ain’t fucking good.”

  Callie sat up. The headache drilling into the back of her head whined. “How long until we have to be there?”

  “He said immediately.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing. We have to get over there. I don’t want him sending Beck for us.”

  She didn’t either. Fuck. Beck. “I don’t have the Charmer’s souls,” she blurted like he didn’t already know.

  “If he’s this worked up, he might not even ask about the flask. We could say it’s back here. Buy some time.”

  Callie was shaking her head before Derek even finished. “He’s been squirrelly all week about his stash. He’s been convinced stuff is missing. Asking why things aren’t where they ‘should be.’ He’s going to ask about those souls, and I sure as shit can’t tell him I gave them to Nate.”

  “No,” Derek agreed. “If he doesn’t bring up Nate, we shouldn’t either.”

  “Look. You go in. I’ll figure something out for the souls.” Her brain was already spinning scenarios. Could she pick up from others to buy time? How many souls would be enough to keep him from asking questions? No, no, that wouldn’t work. She’d be perpetually in the same boat.

  “We can’t split up.” Derek was resolute, and usually Callie loved that.

  “I can’t have him take my screw up out on you.”

  “This isn’t about you. He needs you. Besides, like I told your brother, these days where you go, I go.”

  He had said that, hadn’t he? Well. WELL. Fuck. “I’m going to pull new souls from the soul well.”

  “You’re what?”

  “The soul well. It won’t throw off the number he has in his stock. It’ll help the church or some shit—I don’t entirely get that whole thing, but I think they’ll be cool with it.” The more she talked, the more she was convinced this wasn’t a horrible plan.

  Souls needed to be extracted from the well beneath the cathedral. The Cortean Church needed the service of the Soul Charmer—or her. So they said. The priests wouldn’t be pissed if she popped in to pick up a couple souls, and the Soul Charmer didn’t need to know.

  Derek was less convinced. “What about the souls he wants?”

  “We’ll get them back eventually. If we can appease the Charmer today, we can focus on getting some payback on Nate and that includes taking back the Charmer’s souls.”

  Derek’s frown was full body. Even his black tee shirt appeared to give her a disapproving stink eye. Finally, though, he said, “I’ll take you to the cathedral, but we have
to be fast. The Charmer said as soon as fucking possible and that’s never been more than an hour for me. If we take much longer he’s going to know something isn’t right.”

  Callie pulled on a pair of jeans and had her hair swiped up into a ponytail in record time. Five minutes later, she and Derek were out the door and on their way to the Cortean Catholic Cathedral. Her stomach was surprisingly settled.

  The sky was a brilliant blue. No clouds could hinder the sun, and so the town of Gem City was vivid with every outdoor surface shimmering in sunshine. The temperature hovered just below freezing, but at least it looked pretty. That was the only bright side Callie could muster as they drove to the same spot on El Paseo for the third time.

  The dealers weren’t center stage on the corners at one thirty in the afternoon, but Callie couldn’t help but scan the crowd of milling tourists for Adam or Dougie or any of Nate’s other flunkies.

  Derek moved to follow her into the church, but Callie stopped him. “Do you want to wait out here?”

  He arched a brow.

  “They aren’t going to let you in there without one of these.” She tugged down her sleeve to expose her nighthawk mark. The simple black lines made it an elegant tattoo to everyone else, but Derek wasn’t just anyone. He knew that was a magic brand. A mark that granted her passage to the soul well. An identifying icon he did not bear.

  “I get that, but there are too many eyes here. I’ll wait in the vestibule.”

  “It’s fucking weird to hear you use church terminology.”

  They headed up the steps together. “Did you think I didn’t grow up in these places just like you?” He fought to hide a grin and failed.

  “Maybe Henry’s your family’s black sheep and everyone is embarrassed at his chosen profession.”

  Derek wrapped an arm around her waist. “Please tell me you’ll ask him if that’s the case next time we see him?”

  Callie didn’t bother agreeing to that. “Did you always come to this cathedral?”

  “Not until Henry was ordained.”

  “That had to be a trip.” Callie might have had to tiptoe into sketchy parks at night to find Josh and had spent enough time outside the front of the casino when she was nine to know the Blackjack dealers on sight, but at least no one in her family could toss out ‘holier than thou’ and truly mean it.