Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(23)

Callie’s thoughts collided like synchronized swimmers with no rhythm. People were giving away slivers of themselves to the Soul Charmer and had no idea. He’d have part of her forever. Fuck if she knew what he did with these bonus bits of soul. Fear and distrust of soul magic was legit, even if people didn’t understand the real reason it was sketchy. Local priests quietly embraced soul renting—for them, upping the tally of heaven-bound souls was clearly the greater priority—but they must not have known about this. Could mangled souls even rise to heaven? Callie had never wanted to have another person’s soul in her body, but she’d agreed to do it for Josh. He had no idea how much saving him would cost her. It was no longer simply working for the bad guys. It wasn’t only committing a crime, which, admittedly, was bad enough. She would have to let the Charmer own a tiny piece of her.

“Close your mouth, Callie. People are starting to stare.”

Her teeth clacked together and she pressed her fingers against her lips. They kept her fears from bubbling out. The metallic tang of blood hit her tongue. She parted her teeth, freeing the inside of her cheek. Licking the wound wouldn’t make it better.

“What happens to the souls people rent? Do they never move on to heaven, hell, wherever?” she asked, trying to focus on the souls instead of what was happening to her.

“The magic eventually destroys them. The Charmer says they don’t move on to anywhere, but I don’t know if that’s the truth.”

Callie nodded. The Charmer was certainly the secretive type. Why would anyone give up their soul then? “How can someone live without a soul?” she asked, thinking back to years and years of Cortean Catholic classes. The importance of pure souls, so one could rise to heaven was paramount. No soul, no heaven. Could renting souls keep you out of heaven? Callie didn’t know how to feel about that possibility, but she already had enough worries on her plate without celestial concerns.

“They don’t live well. Technically, they have a tiny piece left. Enough to spark life, but that’s it.”

“Why would someone do that?” She hadn’t given the Charmer’s proposition for hers a second’s thought, but others clearly had. “How much is a soul worth, exactly?”

He scrubbed his palm against his chin before answering, “What it’s worth depends on the soul, and only the Charmer can say there. It’s always at least a couple grand.”

Two thousand dollars would make a difference in more than her bank account, but not that big of one. “Doesn’t seem worth it.”

He shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know their lives, but yeah, it’s usually a shitty situation. People can live without them, though. Whether they sell it outright or they keep their rented souls too long and the process mangles their soul, or—” he took another big swig of coffee before finishing “—it’s stolen.”

She sputtered and coughed as the fact caught in her throat. “Whoa. We’ll get back to my fucked up fingers in a second—so don’t think I’m forgetting. People can jack another person’s soul?”

“Not normal people.”

“The Soul Charmer?”

“He can, but he doesn’t.”

She didn’t believe that. Her memories from last night sparked with new meaning. She remembered the woman McCabe had mentioned. “He’s not the only one who does soul magic, is he?”

“No.”

“And he just turned me into his own personal soul magic detector? Are you going to take me out to the beach to hunt for treasure, too?” Caustic words weren’t enough to cauterize the knowledge that she was being used.

Derek flinched, her words like a proverbial slap to the face. Too fucking bad. “He did make it so you could sense these things.” At least he wasn’t lying to her.

“He said I’d already prepared myself for this, even if I didn’t know it. What did he mean?” She’d practically choked at the memory of the Charmer’s delight, and leveled a glare that dared Derek to deny her an answer.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“It involves the Soul Charmer forcing magic into me. No, I’m not going to fucking like it, but I didn’t ask you that.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. To take in magic, you have to be morally agnostic.”

“That doesn’t sound offensive, so there must be more.”

He glanced away. “You have a pure soul, but you don’t actually have anything against sinning.”

“And?” Father Gonzales would be aghast, but it wasn’t news to Callie. She attended church because it was socially and culturally necessary. Shops didn’t open until noon on Sundays. Prayer cards were available at every restaurant. There were more churches per capita than there were grocery stores. Gem City was Cortean Catholic through and through. Whatever was necessary to survive, Callie did. If God had a problem with her stealing in order to keep her and her brother fed, then he’d take it up with her after she bit it.

“Most people wouldn’t like others knowing sin means nothing to them.” The tremble in his voice was too personal. The sooner he let go of that shame, the happier he’d be, but it wasn’t Callie’s place to instruct him.

Also, she had more pressing concerns. “Why didn’t he do this to you?”