Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(49)
“Oh, man, no. It’s not that.”
The tingle of heat in Callie’s fingertips fell to the back of her mind as her disgust rushed to the forefront. She planted her hands on her hips and waited for an explanation that wouldn’t make her vomit.
“He—Jerry, this guy—had a bad reaction to the soul he rented. We need to get it out of him.” Derek fumbled his words, and while seeing him off-kilter eased Callie’s ire, she wasn’t about to help him out of the hole he’d dug. “You’ll be able to feel the soul magic when you get closer. No stealing.”
Callie pursed her lips. It didn’t sound like a lie. “What do you mean by a bad reaction?”
“Souls aren’t always a perfect fit.” He scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck.
“And?”
“When quality isn’t an issue for the user, there’s always a chance of bad consequences. The rented soul might not be cooperative. Jerry’s borrowed soul fought his own and the mish-mash of all of it had him mentally off.”
“You’re avoiding details, Derek. Tell me the whole story.”
He sucked in a quick breath. Busted. “He drove his car into the side of a train car. His kids were in the backseat.”
Bile churned in Callie’s stomach. The urge to heave at the horror was there, but important questions had to be asked. “His kids?”
“They’re okay. The train was parked. Jerry, though, is in a medically induced coma, and if we don’t get that soul out of him he’s not going to have a chance at recovery. That borrowed soul wants to die.”
Callie hadn’t considered the possibility the soul she’d rent wouldn’t want to be a part of her. Did unattached souls have wants and needs? “Is the Charmer keeping people’s souls from moving on to an afterlife?”
“Above my pay grade, doll. I’ve got no clue if there is a heaven or a hell. What I do know is the Charmer never keeps a soul for rental for more than six months. He jokes and calls it freshness purgatory. Take it however you want.”
She’d prefer not to take it at all. Celestial progression had never been a top priority for Callie, but if her rented soul wanted to move on, she sure hoped it could hold out until after it was free of her body. “Any promises this won’t happen to me?”
“You’re not going for bottom of the barrel goods, doll. The Charmer will make it a good match for you. I promise.”
Could Derek even promise that? She didn’t know, but it eased her fear regardless. Callie performed her first soul extraction on an unconscious man. The magic was there, the extra soul ready to move, but the act twinged her muddied morals anyway.
They didn’t speak again until they were outside the hospital.
Callie and Derek sidled to his bike. “You mind taking the flask to the Charmer?” She held it toward him, careful to keep her fingers on the silver parts.
He laughed, but it was paired with a grimace. “No can do.”
The less time she spent with the Soul Charmer, the better. He didn’t only climb under her skin like the unknown—though that was a huge factor—it was as though he tried to take up residence in her body. He’d already coerced her into collecting souls on his behalf (which she had to admit gave her a heady rush) and infused her fingers with magic. Every time she encountered the man, he changed her. She wasn’t ready for more.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said as though she had conflicting plans in her datebook, and not a bone-deep fear.
Derek accepted the flask from her, and she sagged with relief. The feeling was temporary. He stepped close enough for the energy between them to percolate against her skin, and then he slipped the soul holding cell into her coat pocket. “I’d help you on this if I could, but you’ve become pretty key to this Tess business.”
The silver and stone didn’t tug on the wool fabric or cause it to sag on one side. It didn’t need to. The tremendous weight on her chest more than accomplished that. Derek climbed on to his bike. He sat there, leather clad, with the idling engine emitting enough of a rumble to tickle her sternum, and waited. Would the back tire bottom out when she climbed on? Those two souls, the enormity of what she’d been roped in to, and the mountain of teeming fear settled inside her core had to be more than mere steel and rubber could manage.
She was bigger than her fear, though. Or at least she pretended to be. What was she going to do? Walk home? It was fifteen miles and she was wearing a ratty pair of Chucks.
Not fucking likely.
—— CHAPTER TWELVE ——
The Soul Charmer’s storefront would forever be creepy. Not that Callie had visited all that often. Derek led them through the front door this time, and the familiar stale scent of long-burning incense lodged itself in her sinuses immediately. She’d been waking in the middle of the night lately, smelling the cheap hippie shit and having to remind herself she was in her apartment and not rooted in the squishy carpet at the soul rental den.
She and Derek squelched their way across the room. What lay beneath that threadbare flooring? Rotting corpses was the best guess, if only because it’d explain the dank tinge underlying the incense.
As they bypassed the counter, the door to the building swung open behind them. The woman who bustled in rushed right to the counter in front of them. “I need a soul for tonight,” she blurted. It wasn’t clear if the proclamation was directed at Callie or Derek. Dark circles underscored her eyes. Perhaps several days without sleep had made it hard for the woman to differentiate between people. Callie wouldn’t know. As long as she got four hours, her body didn’t bitch.