—— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ——
Callie should have known toting an unconscious woman through Gem City wasn’t going to be easy. It shouldn’t be easy. Kidnapping was probably some sort of criminal art form. Derek’s natural ability there was unsettling, but fortunate, given the circumstances.
Or at least it was until she noticed his chin dipping.
“Derek.” Panic lanced her through the chest.
His grunt of acknowledgement lacked energy. A second later his hand slipped from the steering wheel. Callie yelped and grabbed it just in time to correct their path before the car veered into oncoming traffic. He hadn’t reacted to her scream. Just great. She nudged his foot off the gas and edged the vehicle to the shoulder. Callie wedged a foot onto Derek’s side and hit the brakes. The car slowed, but thanks to their circuitous route there weren’t any streetlights to expose them. Once the car was safely in park, she spread the lapels of Derek’s jacket.
Blood was like any other bodily fluid: gross in all but the correct context. The right side of his shirt was soaked, in the darkness it turned black. She skimmed her fingers across the damp fabric, the tacky substance on top clinging to her fingers. There was a tear in the tee, hidden by the saturation, above his nipple. Contemplating how someone got a knife under his leather jacket to slash him there wouldn’t help anyone. Thinking would lead to panic, and she needed to be in nurse mode. He needed stitches, but she didn’t have the necessary tools here. She slapped his cheek and called his name until he roused enough to look at her.
“Can you hear me?”
He gave her more than his standard grunt, but the words were unintelligible.
She swore internally. “We need to get you patched up.”
“Charmer’s,” he muttered. It made perfect, twisted sense that the Soul Charmer would have the tools to fix Derek’s wound.
Callie scanned the car for a spare bit of fabric to staunch the bleeding. Nothing but a—wait, had Tess moved? Maybe not. Great, now she was psyching herself out. She shrugged out of her coat and yanked her own cotton tee overhead, wadded it up, and then placed it just so against his wound. Managing to get Derek to keep his hand on top of it was a whole separate task.
As she finished the last button on her coat, she heard a groan from the backseat. She didn’t have the energy to fight Tess. Snagging Derek’s tranq gun and plugging the woman with another dart was far simpler. With their hostage back in Dreamsville, Callie hopped out of the car and came around to the driver’s side, nudging Derek across to the passenger seat. A big man like that shouldn’t be so pliant.
She drove as fast as the aging engine would allow, and hoped it was fast enough.
“Most people would mention getting stabbed,” Callie muttered. The two unconscious people in the car weren’t listening, but she wasn’t talking to them; she was trying to distract herself from the fact that with Derek out, she was now on the hook for the safe delivery of both of them.
“I was wrong. We should have waited a day and made a real plan.”
She spared a quick glance at Derek. He sagged against the seat, and his hand had begun to drop from his chest. Callie grabbed it and pressed it firmly against his wound. “Keep it there.”
He sucked in a harsh breath, but at least he wasn’t dead.
“Just because my car is a piece of shit, doesn’t mean bleeding all over it is acceptable. You’re cleaning it when this is all over.” Maintaining control now meant he’d be okay. She could crumble once she made it to the Soul Charmer’s shop.
She glanced in the rearview mirror. No red and blue lights were flashing at her, but damn if she didn’t expect cherries to pop behind her any second. How would she explain Derek’s knife wound, or the green darts sticking out of the woman slumped across the back seat? Were licenses required for tranquilizer guns?
Balancing the need to get to the Soul Charmer’s fast against the extreme desire to avoid the Gem City Police, Callie pushed the car to five miles above the posted speed limit, but no further.
Ten minutes later, she parked her car outside the Soul Charmer’s storefront. She didn’t bother with safe distances or worry about being inconspicuous. Tess’s face was planted in a pool of drool. It didn’t get much more conspicuous than that.
Callie rushed around the car and opened the passenger door. Jostling Derek was enough to make him open his eyes. Steady feet weren’t going to be found, but his legs weren’t total Jell-O. Callie managed to get him standing. The bastard was heavy, but she wedged her shoulder in under his armpit and steered him the few steps to the door.
Once inside she yelled, “Charmer, you better have some medical skills!”
“I don’t remember offering you such services. Are you looking for another barter?” The Soul Charmer sauntered out from the back room. He deserved to be punched in the throat for his ambivalence.
She was about to tell him what he could do with his propositions when the Charmer caught sight of Derek. “What happened to him?” he asked in a rush, concern snapping to his face in a flash.
“Knife wound. You any good at stitches?”
The Charmer lifted a stool from behind the counter and brought it toward them. He sat it next to a wall, and Derek dropped onto the wooden seat immediately. The Charmer investigated the injury, holding up Callie’s wadded shirt in question. She shrugged and he gave Derek’s wound a closer look. “I can heal him,” he said finally.
“He’s going to be okay?” Her throat was tight and raw, but the Charmer didn’t pounce on the vulnerability. Maybe he cared about Derek, too. Huh.
“Of course. A little blood loss.”
“Tess is out in the car,” Callie blurted.
The Charmer’s lips pulled back. Too bad a smile and a snarl looked identical on his face. His eyes hardened, and that wicked glint appeared a moment later. “Stay with him.”
“Where are you going?”
He narrowed his eyes, but Callie was beyond caring about how the Soul Charmer felt. “To get tools for him, and to send someone out to retrieve my prize. Where is your car?”
“Right outside the front door.”
He huffed, but scuttled to the back without any further comment.
She squatted next to Derek, her shoes sinking into the carpet as her weight shifted toward her toes. His eyes were barely open. Blood loss could act a whole lot like a concussion. Callie would rather compare it to a normal injury than the real memory his dazed demeanor pulled: Josh, on his back in the middle of their mother’s living room. He’d been so high he hadn’t bothered to close the front door, much less lock it. Zara’s jewelry, what little there had been, and her TV had been stolen along with Josh’s shoes. Callie’d taken Josh to the emergency room for the first time that night. It was the same night she’d discovered her big brother wasn’t simply dabbling in the occasional pharmaceutical, but had developed a sincere love affair with methamphetamines.
Derek’s skin was feverish when she pressed her hand against his cheek. He wasn’t her brother. He wasn’t an addict. That fact only got her so far. The gouges in Callie’s heart were more than deep ravines; they were black holes. Opening up to people was hard enough. Her emotional scars tainted every new memory, every sight. Derek hadn’t been injured for her. This wasn’t some heroic wound. What happened in that back room was a mystery, but odds were it wouldn’t have made her proud. But Derek’s allegiance to the Charmer could be just as much a motivation as getting Callie out of Tess’s sights.
Guilt shook her hard enough she rested a hand on Derek’s knee for stability. He hadn’t done anything to earn those thoughts, so Callie crammed that thought down with all the other uncomfortable pellets.
“You still with me, big guy?” He needed her and she’d gone asshole in her mind. This was why she didn’t do relationships.
“Mhm.”
“The Charmer will be back in a second. He can fix you up.” She almost believed it herself.
“I’m already here,” the Charmer said from behind her. He shooed her out of the way with a frigid hand.
Expecting a first aid kit was a newbie mistake. The tray the Soul Charmer carried had a few normal medical supplies, like a needle and thread and gauze. The black, pulpy concoction with flecks of red filling a small dish at the center, however, gave Callie pause. “What’s that for?”
The Charmer kept his focus on his patient. Probably a good idea. He prodded Derek’s cut, drawing hisses and groans in equal measure. “Someone cut you deep.”
The words were meant for Derek, but they hit way closer to home then Callie would have liked.
The Charmer scooped the pulp into his palm and pressed it to Derek’s chest. Again Callie asked what it was for.
“I liked you better when you were quiet,” he hissed. After a moment, though, he told her. “It will stop the bleeding.”
The pressure from his scrawny arm had Derek’s swaying. Words that held no meaning for Callie flowed out of the Charmer’s lips and filled the room. Her fingers began to warm, but the magic never ignited a spark.
“Aren’t you going to clean the wound, at least?” Why was she letting this man care for Derek? She had the medical training, not him.
The Charmer ignored her again and wiped his hand on his pant leg before picking up the needle and thread. Biting back the offer to help squeezed Callie’s throat. Emotions were dangerous, especially for people with too much pride.
People like Callie.
The Soul Charmer busied himself behind the counter after stitching the gash in Derek’s chest, tinkering with jars and boxes like she’d seen the men at the retirement home do.
Derek had slipped out of consciousness, but remained upright against the wall. The Charmer didn’t cast him or Callie as much as a glance for more than twenty minutes.
“How much longer until I can move him?” she finally asked.
“Who said you’re going to?”
Callie walked to the counter, a woman with purpose. “I did.”
The Charmer’s guffaw rattled into a cough, but before she could press the matter, another man entered from the back of the store. He was Callie’s height, maybe thirty, with slicked back hair.
“She’s awake,” he reported to the Charmer. He projected menace, though not as much as Derek. Probably another soul repo man, but his vibe was a little more of an ex-club kid who had decided to bulk up and become the bouncer.
The Charmer turned his wicked gaze to Callie. Dark, insidious intentions danced within his dilated pupils. “That’s your cue.”
She managed not to choke. “Excuse me?”
“Finish your job, and you can take him home. Well, to your home.”
“What’s left to do? Did you not catch the part where I tracked, tranquilized, and kidnapped a woman on your behalf tonight?” Saying it aloud did not make it sound better.
“Find out why she thought it wise to steal from me.” Venom should have dribbled down his chin.
“I don’t know enough to do that. She’ll be scared of you.”
“You’re scared of me.” The lack of inflection or accusation only made the bald truth starker.
Agreeing wasn’t necessary. “My hands—”
“—will be an asset. You may go get my answers, or you may leave. Without him.”
She shot a look to Derek. The bleeding had stopped, but he needed observation from a person who gave a shit.
“He stays until I have answers.” The Charmer’s hiss coiled around Callie’s abdomen squeezing like the boa constrictor he’d likely been in a past life. “Your choice.”
“Fine. Where is she?”
The Soul Charmer’s henchman didn’t flinch as the rickety steps descending into the shop’s basement swayed under his weight. He didn’t bother to introduce himself, but the Charmer had made it clear she was to follow him. The head-shop scent from above didn’t filter through the floorboards. The wood and sandstone of the lower level cocooned them in dank depression. Her guide unlocked a door and gestured for her to enter.
“She’s inside,” he rumbled.
The pellets of anxiety she’d hidden between her ribs rattled. Her breath quickened, her lungs pressing hard and fast against her bones to keep her steady. “You coming with?” He wasn’t Derek, but they both technically worked for Team Creep.
Her hope for aid was dashed with his scoff. “She’s your problem. I’ll be out here.”
Not much comfort, bucko. Could he hear the tittering clacking of her fear inside her torso? He pointed to the door again. That was probably a no.
This was for Derek. She repeated the mantra in her head with each step toward the doorway. She might have hesitated at the precipice, if it were an option. The force of the magic the Soul Charmer had placed on the room sucked Callie forward, almost like she had no will of her own. Which sounded about fucking right. The Charmer was holding someone she cared about upstairs. Agreeing under duress was simply what she did in his presence. Naturally the barrier of his makeshift prison would yank her inside.
The walls were bare and the concrete floor smattered with sawdust. Below fluorescent lighting, Tess sat in the center of the room, bound to an aluminum chair. The darts had been removed from her chest and shoulder, but small bloodstains remained. Rust-red reminders. They’d doped Tess significantly, and yet she was awake. Was Tess a horse in a former life, or did magic supersize one’s metabolic rate? Callie shook the thought away. She needed answers, and fast. Tess would give her the information she needed, she’d update the Charmer, and then get Derek the hell out of here. Right. She nodded to herself and took two steady, boss-lady steps toward Tess.
The woman lifted her head. Tess’s cheek was swollen, likely thanks to Mr. Friendly outside, but the developing bruise didn’t diminish the cruel, knowing look she cast Callie. It worked, too. The cache of fears between her ribs exploded. Buckshot of terror, worry, and weakness assaulted her core. Organs were bruised. Bones were fractured. Muscles were torn. Her heart double-timed it. But pumping blood faster wouldn’t slow the pain or ebb the rising tide of worthlessness.
Who was she kidding? Interrogating Tess was so far out of her wheelhouse she’d need a plane ticket and two boats to even see the thing. This was the woman who had tracked her to the retirement home, and to the diner as well. She’d watched her. She’d known an awful lot about Callie’s life. She’d bet Tess even knew about her deal with Ford, though how well she knew the mobster was anyone’s guess. How could Callie turn the tables on her? Tess was batshit, but could playing into her ego work when they were locked in the Soul Charmer’s basement? Not likely. Her chest burned. Derek would have had an answer here. He’d have known what to do. Unfortunately, he was busy sleeping off a knife wound upstairs.
How was this her life?
Tess’s laugher did more than get under Callie’s skin; it separated the chest wall, tearing muscles and ligaments along the way. Callie coughed in response. It was obvious which of them was in charge. This was going to suck.
“I overestimated your worth, little bird. You’re far too scared to be of service.”
Callie had been called worse, but it still stung. Pretending you didn’t care about failure was difficult. She’d mastered it to avoid Zara zeroing in on her. Tess wouldn’t get the joy of seeing her flinch. The truth was: failing now wasn’t an option. Callie gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. The soreness helped hone her mind. Derek had protected her time and again. Now it was her turn to return the favor. How could she succeed at saving Josh if she couldn’t even walk out of this situation a winner?
“Or maybe you’re underestimating me now.” The threat of disappointing Derek kept her tone even and cool.
“I don’t think so,” Tess sneered. “You let the boys shoot me with sedatives and tie me up. I thought you’d want something better, but I was wrong.”
Tess knew the buttons to push, and Callie wished she could ask how. That wasn’t what this was about though. She baited the line. “You didn’t actually offer me anything better. I don’t need a new person manipulating me.”
“I offered you a chance to be out from under him. I wanted to help you.”
“He gave me magic. What were you going to give me?” Had she just implied her flame hands were a gift? Ugh. She should punch herself for that.
“Help,” Tess said, as if it were so simple.
“No, Tess, you were going to use me, just like he wants to.” Callie sauntered closer, ignoring the heat coiling in her palms. Uneven burners on an aged electric range were destined to short circuit.
Tess pursed her lips. Hurting another person on purpose wasn’t in Callie’s DNA, but the temptation to remind Tess of the magic she and the Charmer fought over was too tempting. She tapped a finger against Tess’s bound hand. The sparks from her hand lit the small space, but faded before reaching the floor. Tess winced, but remained silent.
Callie circled her. “That’s the truth of it, isn’t it, Tess? The Charmer wanted me to find you, and I expect you wanted me to find his souls for you.”
“I found plenty of his souls just fine without your help.” Touché.
“Then why did you want to help me?” Contempt drenched each word.
“Magic takes time to master. Even more so when you didn’t seek it out yourself.” She was playing nice, but Callie couldn’t let herself buy it.
“You sound like you aren’t a fan of magic, but you wield it pretty freely, lady.”
Tess fought her bonds to stiffen her posture. Callie had hit a nerve. “I would never speak ill of such a gift. I trained for years to learn to pull the energy, found the right people to help, but now … ”
Damn, Callie really wanted her to go into monologue mode. “But now?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not interested.”
“Convince me. Tell me what’s worth all this. What could possibly be worth stealing from the goddamn Soul Charmer and purposefully getting involved with all this nasty?” Callie kept her tone light, but she needed an answer. Why would anyone choose this?
“It doesn’t have to be nasty.”
“But it is.” Callie edged away from Tess. The cool wall behind her offered strength.
“I could fix all that.” Words of false promise from a fanatic.
“That’s a tall order.”
“You’ve witnessed my magic.” Tess paused, waiting for Callie to nod. She had. Tess’s eyes were wide as she continued. “I’ve siphoned sin from thousands in the last year. Sipping a tiny portion at a time. They got euphoria for a few hours, and I gained power. Imagine how much sin we could purge with the power derived from the collection of souls he has. Just imagine.”
Tess’s god complex made a little more sense now. Not that Callie was buying into the rule-the-world shit, but she understood the ability to affect such change could go to one’s head. At least something made sense. “Why does purging sin matter to you so much?”
“This magic—” her eyes danced with manic joy “—is beautiful. It’s meant to help. We can cleanse people. Everyone will understand they’ll be happier without the need to sin, without the guilt of it. They will adore us for saving them from themselves.”
Callie groaned. “Pretty sure that’s the church’s job.”
“They let their people do anything. We won’t let that happen. Once we’ve touched their souls, we can keep them from making such poor choices. You’ll have the power to protect your family from bad decisions.”
Callie had to give it to her. It was a good pitch. If it was even legit. The Soul Charmer certainly wasn’t interested in the mundane lives of his clients. That man liked a lot of peeking at souls and cold, hard cash. Tess’s brand of crazy might make this real to her, though. If it was true, shit would only get worse. Who wouldn’t want to keep everyone safe and happy and keep their loved ones from the dangers of the world? Only, who was Tess to make those decisions? What if the church was wrong? What if people weren’t going to be punished for living freely? If the church had its way, having sex with Derek had damned Callie. There was nothing abhorrent about what happened between them. He didn’t judge her for her baggage, her family, or even her situation with Ford. He smiled when they were alone together. She smiled, too. He made her feel whole and worthwhile and special. The idea of Tess as the arbiter of acceptable behavior dug at Callie. This was probably why the Charmer wanted her for the job all along. Callie was a good person—Derek told her as much—but she gave little fucks about what others’ moral measurements were.
Callie couldn’t help herself. “Who put you in charge?”
Tess’s arms strained against her bindings. After a moment she hedged. “Does it matter?”
Goddamn it. “Yeah, it matters.”
“I am the one who will purify this city. That’s all you need to know.”
Talking to a crazy lady was about as much fun as scraping your shins on a brick road. “So while you’re stuck down here, the poor people of Gem City are generally fucked? That’s what you’re saying?”
“The purification will happen regardless.”
Callie placed her hands on Tess’s thighs, and leaned forward. She needed this answer for Derek. “Are you working with someone else?”
The smell of burning fabric hit her before she recognized the fire beneath her palms. Her frustration with Tess had overridden the pressure of the magic. Derek had been right about motivation. She should have let go. She wasn’t the kind of person who would torture someone, but her emotions were flowing through the flames. Her breathing eased with every second she let the twin torches flare. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She needed to care about that.
Tess cried out. Callie tried to pull back, but something was stopping her. Her desire to save Derek and herself from the Charmer had screwed with her magic. She needed to let go. It was the right thing to do, and yet her hands didn’t budge.
“There are others,” Tess screamed between gasping breaths.
Callie finally won the struggle and jerked her hands away. She took all seven layers of Tess’s skin with her. She didn’t have enough space in her torso for the ball of guilt and horror that formed at the sight of the exposed muscle and tissue underneath. This is what magic did. It turned people into crazy, awful beings. The Charmer and Tess were both power hungry. They used twisted justifications to avoid accepting they were slaves to the rush. Callie couldn’t let herself become that.
Her voice wavered as she asked the next question. “Who are they? Names.”
The metal chair ground against the concrete floor at the force of Tess’s shaking body. Callie couldn’t ever swear a medical oath again. She no longer had that right. “I don’t know who will be here. I wasn’t the only one recruited.”
Recruited? Come the fuck on. “Who recruited you?”
“Fire won’t get that one out of me, little bird.” A wry grin spread on her face. She had to be in shock. The pain had somehow blanked from her brain.
“Give me names.” Would Ford be on her list?
“Your mother will be able to find one.” She laughed.
“What?”
“Zara is always in need of a fix. She’ll find another of mine.”