Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(24)
“He can’t.”
“Bullshit. He’s a scary mystical whatever, and you and me have more in common than you’re going to admit.”
“No, honestly, Callie.” He shook his head. “He’s real picky about who can do what. Says he can read it on the soul. And I don’t know if I’m fucked up so he can’t do it to me, or if you are so he can. I just know he’s never done it to me, and I’m actually sorry he did it to you, and I don’t have every answer.”
“That was a lot of words for you all at once.” Did she say that out loud?
His deep, rumbling laugh suggested, yes, she had. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Maybe my skills are detecting people screwed by soul magic, and getting you to talk.” She was rambling, but if she didn’t laugh, she was going to cry.
She was saved by the arrival of their waitress with two loaded plates. Callie wasn’t done questioning Derek, especially if he was willing to keep giving her honest answers. But first she was going to ignore her shitty day by sinking her teeth into the fiercest patty melt in the whole state.
—— CHAPTER SEVEN ——
The second day in the soul business had to be better than the first. Right? If Callie helped collect even a single soul, she’d be ahead of the game. Derek had spent their meal convincing her that the more they got shit done, the less they’d need to deal directly with the Soul Charmer. That’s about all it took to get her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle again, and go for round two.
“I’d like to avoid bar fights tonight, too, if that’s an option,” she said while handing over her helmet. He’d parked the bike near a street light with a cluster of three frosted bulbs. The Eastender District’s traditional adobe buildings often made tourists think they were in the Plaza, but they wouldn’t find the Basilica or the Governor’s mansion anywhere nearby. The wear on the buildings and the cracked cobalt tiles near storefronts should have clued them in. It wasn’t as downtrodden as last night’s locale, but Callie’d bet the house they weren’t going to find their first collection target in the Ritz, either.
“Don’t be stealing the fun from the job, doll.” His wry grin bolstered her confidence a smidge.
“We’ll see,” she muttered.
He lifted his chin toward a bail bondsman’s office. “Can’t promise there won’t be brawls in there, but there should be less booze.”
She followed him toward the building. “This person has a bond out on them? Isn’t that, like, toeing too closely to trouble?” She thought about the job Ford expected her to complete in two weeks. The flip of her stomach almost made her regret the patty melt.
“Nah, Nicole works here.”
Derek switched gears, adopting a saunter a few yards from the door. He timed it perfectly, just as he and Callie walked past the first pane of glass for Gem City Bonds. The entire storefront was covered in floor-to-ceiling windows. It might have looked nice, if not for the wrought iron bars spanning each pane. Better black bars than bricks through your windows. They reached the front door, but Derek stilled Callie’s hand when she reached for the handle.
She furrowed her brows, but gave him space as he rapped his knuckles against the door. A moment later, the camera mounted above the doorframe panned toward them with a dull hum. Derek smiled up at it, oozing charm. She told herself she’d never trust a grin like that, but she also doubted her knees would remain solid if he ever turned it on her.
Inside her coat pocket, Callie took hold of the flask. Soft warmth emanated from the stone inlay at her touch, but as a short, curvy blonde came to the door her fingers began to sizzle. The heavy application of kohl around the woman’s eyes didn’t hide the charcoal underscores or the hollowing below her cheekbones. The blonde shot Callie a curious look before stepping out to join them on the sidewalk.
She would have given her a doubly dirty one if she’d known what Callie had been thinking. Her fingers had started to tingle as soon as Nicole had opened the door, and as the heat rushed to fill her palms and her grip tightened on the flask, Callie knew Nicole had a bonus soul wedged beneath her pushup bra. She really was not the bail lady’s biggest fan.
“Hey, Derek,” Nicole cooed. They were on a first-name basis. Great.
“Time to return it.” No matter how benign the phrase was, dark menace laced Derek’s words.
Callie’s fingers tried to burrow into the onyx of the soul canister in her hand until they burned. If only she could make herself believe it was a lava rock and not her hand heating the stone.
Nicole brushed a hand along Derek’s sleeve. A bold move when you were blocking a big man from doing his job. He shot a pleading glance Callie’s way. It was so quick, she was almost convinced she’d imagined it. Still, her fingers ached and she wasn’t enjoying watching the soul renter in front of her get her flirt on. Callie pulled the flask from her pocket.
“I sure wouldn’t mind keeping it a little longer, help take the edge of stress off another day. I could come meet you downtown after work, you know, to return it and we could grab a drink,” Nicole purred.
Callie decided it would be a good time to join the conversation. “We’ve got shit to do.”
Nicole blinked, as though she’d forgotten Callie was even there.