—— CHAPTER FIFTEEN ——
Callie had thirty-seven dollars in her bank account and only half a tank of gas in her car, despite this morning’s fill up, but after the visit she’d had with Zara, she needed some goddamn pie.
Familiarity in Dott’s was a warm blanket. The mismatched chairs in the seven-table deli afforded a smidge of comfort. As the waitress placed the double-portion slice of coconut cream in front of her, Callie tried to pretend her life was full of similar moments of frivolity. Margaritaville? Pssh. Eating pie for lunch was the peak of a worry-free life. The first decadent bite sealed the deal; best four dollars she’d ever spent.
Unfortunately, even homemade pie couldn’t stop the what-if scenarios from whirring in her mind. Her mother was a soul user. She might not have been renting while Callie was around—she could have either done it once a decade ago, or yesterday, and Callie’s icy hands wouldn’t have known the difference—but did it matter? Soul renters didn’t need to be strung out and skinny. The more time she spent in this world, the better she understood renting a soul wasn’t for those who had hit rock bottom. One needed to care enough to want to protect their soul. That explained the drug addict contingent. Soul rental was a couple steps above rock bottom. Fuck if she knew about rationalizing choices like that.
“How’s the pie?” asked a lilting voice that couldn’t belong to the waitress.
Callie had been completely lost in the pie-thinking zone. She looked over to see the woman seated beside her. The woman had long, sandy blonde hair, and her pastel bohemian blouse was almost invisible behind the shiny tresses. Callie recognized her immediately, and a knot formed fast and firm in her stomach. “Um, good.”
She didn’t make eye contact with the woman for more than a moment. It didn’t matter. Goddamn extroverts. “Was that the coconut?”
“Yep.” Why was Tess making casual conversation? If only Callie’s phone would buzz. An excuse to avoid conversation was never around when you needed it.
The uninvited guest reminded Callie too much of her mom. A free-spirit vibe and spacey softness in casual conversation.
“You’re Callie, are you not?”
Time stilled as she slowly lifted her head to take in this woman. Her dark eyebrows were pinched together and raised. Great. The lady bro equivalent of “come at me.” A shiver spiked down Callie’s spine when she met the woman’s gaze. Her hazel irises were ringed in coal. Callie whispered her name. “Tess.”
She nodded and then waved over the waitress. “A slice of the coconut cream.” Tess paused, and inclined her head toward Callie. “Do you want another piece?”
Patronization must be a bonus skill when you gain the ability to snatch and sell people’s souls.
Callie shook her head no, not trusting her voice to conceal her fear. She’d wanted to meet Tess before the Charmer’s magic had turned her into a weapon. Doing so without Derek had even held appeal before she’d seared the skin on Bianca. Bartering with the other soul magician in town—the one who didn’t look like a reanimated reptile—had seemed smart. Only now she knew too much about this world. The sweet, forty-something-year-old woman next to her was a front. She’d ripped a soul from Joey—a dope, but a fairly harmless one—and left him in a well of regret and need. Anyone who secretly snatched bits of people’s souls to fuel themselves was shady with a capital S. The Charmer was heavy handed and creepy as fuck, but there was no secret what you were getting with him. He didn’t hide his power.
Callie looked at her hands. She was next to another person who could wield soul magic, steal it, and yet her hands weren’t going inferno. They weren’t doing anything.
Tess’s laugh was like wind chimes. Unreal. “Don’t worry, I dampened my magic. No need to have you burning down your favorite restaurant.”
For a woman who was supposed to be livid with her for lighting up her underling, Tess was being oddly chill. That—combined with her knowledge of Callie’s habits and haunts—only served to make her scarier by the second. This would have been the ideal time for Derek to stride in and do his save-the-day thing.
He didn’t.
“Thanks,” was all she could think of to say. Being polite was Callie’s default when she was uncomfortable, and Tess had thrown her too far out of her realm. She searched her insides for reserves of confidence, but they eluded her. Standing near the Soul Charmer had skyrocketed Callie’s magic, not the other way around. Was Tess more powerful or was the Charmer able to do the same thing, but hadn’t because he was an asshole? Fuck if it were both.
“Of course. I’m not much for fiery dramatics.” Was she dismissing Bianca’s injuries? Were they cool just like that?
Trusting this woman wasn’t going to happen, but Callie sensed a truce. Good pie could do that. “What can I do for you?”
Tess’s smile revealed she had all her teeth. One up on the Charmer there. Not that it stopped the sensation of creatures skittering over her skin. “Oh, no. My goal is to help others, and I’m here to help you, child.”
“Help me?” Callie had heard a lot of pitches in her life for assistance. Three different priests, her aunts, her case worker from CPS. Ninety-eight of every one hundred were self-serving. Any woman the Charmer called competition and who colluded with Ford wasn’t out for Callie’s best interest. Nothing helped Callie tap into her fake strength like being underestimated.
“Well, I doubt your recent decision to work with certain people was out of anything other than necessity. You must have been in quite a tight spot.”
Callie bit her lip. She could spot a too-good-to-be-true flag from fifty paces. “It’s a temporary gig.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“You don’t know me well.” Bitch. Stalking didn’t count.
“Perhaps, but nothing to do with souls is temporary, and you don’t know the man you’re working for very well either. Do you honestly expect that the changes to your … hands will go away?”
Yes, she had. The Charmer would want his magic back, right? She was only his indentured servant for a couple more days. She’d be done then, wouldn’t she? “That’s the deal,” she said, as though her confidence hadn’t just been rocked by C4.
“It doesn’t really work that way.” Tess patted Callie’s forearm.
She didn’t need mothering. That ship sailed long ago, and if she did want a new maternal figure, it wasn’t going to be anyone teeming with magic and sowing seeds of sedition. “Can you see the future?”
“No.” Her chiming voice cut hard.
“Then you don’t know he won’t take it back.”
Tess zapped Callie’s arm. Sparks skated up and down, the skin singeing and smoldering in their wake. The desire to slap at the pain and yelp reared, but the room was too full. She corralled the sensation and hissed in agony. Great. Not only could Tess snipe souls, she could also shock people. It edged her up a level on the villain scale.
Tess heaved in a breath, the action full of drama. She knew she was being watched. The sparks dissipated. She exhaled, and then when she spoke her voice was full of charm again.
“Talk to him. When you’re ready to help—and I will take care of you, Callie—come find me.”
She couldn’t help herself. “Where would I do that?”
A cheshire grin on a woman like Tess was terrifying. “There’s a tarot reading shop north of the city near the Desert Outlets. You know it?”
“I know the Outlets.” Callie shrugged.
“I’ll be there at midnight for the next week.”
Why was she even entertaining this? Oh, of course, because sinking deeper into danger was the Delgado way. She’d had a lifetime to learn it was smart to always keep your options open. “What if it takes longer?”
“Then you’ll have missed out on the opportunity to help purify Gem City.”
“‘Purify’?”
Tess keened her head to the right. “Too many souls are weighed down due to his influence. We’ll help free them. You can have more details once you’ve sided with me. For now, talk to your employer, tell him you quit, and then come find me. I can help.”
If the last year of her life was any indication, “I can help” were three words that could fuck with your head as badly as “I love you.”
Tess was bad news. Callie’s bones screamed at the threat of the woman’s presence. But was she worse than the Soul Charmer? Maybe it didn’t matter. She was already in bed with two nasty men, the Charmer and Ford, no need to add a wicked woman to the mix.
“You want me to talk to him? To tell him about this conversation?” Now she was avoiding the Charmer’s name, too.
“I want you to have the truth. You’d be surprised how freeing it can be.” Knowledge lay behind Tess’s eyes. Tantalizing secrets were being offered on a plate of promises.
Truth was a privilege. One Callie felt like she would forever be excluded from. She did want to know the Charmer’s motivations, and what he planned on doing with her once she’d worked off the debt, but what was the risk? Tess knew more than she should about Callie as it was. What did she really want?
Truth might set others free, but secrets kept Callie safe.
If Gem City were bigger, Callie would have found a way to get lost. Running from her problems hadn’t ever been her style, but the appeal of disappearing was beginning to become clear. Especially when she parked her car outside her apartment building, and spotted Ford’s henchman Nate parked a couple spaces over. Was Tess the type to update Ford on Callie’s comings and goings? How closely were the two of them working together?
The windows of the black sports car were rolled down. Clean guitar riffs caught her attention, but the music faded into the background as Nate spotted her. His stretched arm hooked outside the window to wave over the top of the vehicle at her.
She shuffled to his driver’s side door, knowing she didn’t have another option. The passenger’s side was closer, but she was too aware of the threat of moving to Crime Scene B to get into this asshole’s car. The encounter with Tess had drained her, though she was fairly certain the woman hadn’t literally sucked her energy. Though it wasn’t impossible. “What do you want?” she asked, not caring about the bratty tone for once.
“That’s no way to treat a friend.”
“You’re not my friend. Pretty sure we established that the other night.”
“Don’t see your boyfriend here.” He sneered at her, but she wasn’t about to talk about her sex life with Nate.
Taking the high road took work, but the less-traveled too-tired-to-give-a-fuck bridge was equally effective. “I’m tired. Tell me what you need or I’m leaving.”
“You’re still pissy about the other night? C’mon.”
Ford might have sent Nate over as a test, to see if she’d fall in line. There had to be more to it than that, though. Nate was leveraging a second chance to talk to Callie. She mentally crossed her fingers he wasn’t going to be a double dick after the scene with her and Derek at the Indian restaurant.
“It’s not about you. It’s about me being tired and cold and wanting to go inside.” Bad breakup lines were the best she could conjure today.
“Fine.” He fumbled through a pile of wrappers and newspapers on the floorboard until he produced a legal-sized envelope and handed it over. “This is for you.”
She took it from him with the same care she’d handle a bomb. Reluctant and gentle. “What is it?”
“Oh, now you’ve got questions for ol’ Nate?”
She rolled her eyes, and waited. She was done asking questions, but Ford wouldn’t be pleased if she stormed off. There was a lot on Callie’s plate, but keeping that butcher happy needed to be a top priority. The memory of his flashing a knife upon their first meeting was still fresh.
“You’re really no fun, you know that? Probably why you’re going about renting a soul the hard way.” He glanced at his crotch and Callie somehow managed not to vomit. If she had, though, she’d have done it right into his lap.
“And yet you keep trying.”
Nate scowled at her, but their dynamic had shifted enough for him to drop the subject. “You’ve got blueprints of the target, code lists, and whatever notes Ford thought you’d need.”
This was really happening. Holding documents with the layout of a secure police forensics facility made her officially a criminal. She had literally stepped over the line into conspiring to burgle. Yeah, there was probably a fancier term, and if she was better at this whole thievery deal she might know it. Her cheeks heated, but there was nothing she could do about the sudden rush of anxiety. “Do I really need these?” Her emotions choked her voice to a whisper.
“Yeah, you do. And before you go getting any big ideas, your big, biker boyfriend isn’t allowed to do it for you. Ford gave you this job. You’re doing it.”
“I don’t have experience with all this. Why isn’t Ford having you do it?”
“Your brother made a promise. It isn’t about who is best for the job, it’s about honoring your word. Well, your brother’s word. Ford needs you inside on this job and with the Charmer. Extra eyes on the Charmer don’t come cheap, and there’s something about you he likes. Don’t ask why Ford does something. Just be happy he ain’t hacking your baby bro into pieces. Besides, we’re not making you do the dirty work with the science people on this one. Simple break-in? Fuck, my mom could do that. Understood?”
She nodded. Nate didn’t scare her anymore, but the thought of stepping out of line with Ford sure as shit did.
“Good.”
The sense of finality in his voice spurred Callie back into the moment. Thank God. “I still have a couple days before this all happens.” That reedy quality had left her vocal cords.
“You got photographic memory, baby?”
It was her turn to scowl. “No.”
“Didn’t think so. You can’t take a cheat sheet to the job with you. Memorize that shit, and be ready. The boss gave you a specific schedule when you agreed to cover for Joshy boy. Don’t fuck it up.”
As if it were so simple to not botch the job, not get her brother killed, and not ruin her life completely. Breaking into a building that not only had security, but also housed actual police officers—when the biggest score in her life was three outfits from a department store—would be super easy. The urge to puke spiked her stomach again.
“Anything else?” She regretted asking as soon as the words left her lips.
He reached toward his belt, and she spun on her back heel and headed toward the apartment. His laughter followed her, but she didn’t look back.