Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(88)
He nodded, and when Callie moved her hand from her mouth to tentatively rest on his upper chest, he closed the gap between them. Her hand pinned between them, his lips slammed against hers. This kiss wasn’t gentle or protective, but he wasn’t laying claim either.
His hands gripped her hips and he deepened the kiss. Derek wouldn’t tell her he understood why she did something so idiotic. He wouldn’t say he forgave her. Not yet. He wouldn’t promise to let her try to repair the broken trust between them. He didn’t need to use his words. The fire and need igniting between their lips covered it.
—— CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ——
Callie and Derek found their footing the previous night. She’d revealed one of her darkest fears in the midst of an atrocious act. Anyone else would have ditched her. Derek got it, though. Now she’d have to earn back enough trust to learn what it was in his past that made him understand her. It was early when they stepped out of Callie’s apartment, and headed to recover Derek’s motorcycle. Plenty of time to gently push for answers, she thought.
Fate, as always, had other plans.
“You’re in one piece. That’s got to be a good sign.” Ford had already started up the staircase as Callie and Derek were approaching the edge of the second-floor landing. Ford slathered himself in boyish charm, but, especially in the ochre light, he couldn’t mask the cruelty beneath.
“Can my brother say the same?” Taunting the equivalent of the jock who hazed the new kids might not be wise, but she’d run out of fucks to give.
The dick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can. Though after all this, I don’t understand the value you see in him.”
Derek’s grunt, as if he had finally found something in common with the dirtbag, earned him a nasty side-eye from Callie.
Ford ignored him. “Do you have what belongs to me?”
Belonged? Why was everyone around her so interested in ownership? Who had the rights to the souls? Who could claim their magic? Discussing all this with a mob boss in the stairwell to her apartment the morning after she’d snuck into a police station and stolen investigation files was right below cleaning a stranger’s bathroom with a toothbrush on her to-do list.
Derek interrupted her thoughts. “You couldn’t wait until later?”
The sun was high and bright. She used to enjoy that. Not now though, with winter stampeding down the mountains. Exhausted and cold was a bad combination on its own, but adding in her general sense of dread put Callie mere inches from crumpling into a puddle of anxiety. Doing so in front of Ford was not an option. Not now. Not ever.
“Governor’s moving faster than predicted, and we’ve already disposed of the research’s human component. Besides, no need to have our girl stress over that information any longer than necessary,” Ford said with a genial smile.
A deep rumble filled the space. Derek. They’d have to rediscover their footing, but there was no question whose side he was on.
Ford shook his head slowly, relishing the patronizing action. “You’re only here because I’ve allowed it, Derek. Don’t forget that.”
Derek doubled in size. His presence overtook the concrete hallway. His towering frame keeled toward Ford. The man didn’t flinch. “You seem to be forgetting how easily your soul could disappear.” The dark promise tumbled from Derek’s lips, a smooth waterfall with a wicked undercurrent.
But Derek couldn’t wield magic. He’d told her so. Was he bluffing? Callie had never heard him use magic and his connection to the Soul Charmer as an open threat to anyone before, but, in that moment, she believed he could make Ford’s soul disappear, and, more importantly, so did Ford.
The mafia man’s hands were stuffed in his pockets, but he hurried backward three steps. Was it wise to strike fear in dangerous men? Only if one could back it up. Callie’s fingers curled into fists at the thought. Bringing the heat, literally, had saved her ass earlier. Hurting Ford would be worth a hidden scar or two on the rented soul buried beneath her sternum. If it came to that.
“Let’s get this over with inside.” He jerked his head toward her door. “Too many eyes out here.”
As much as she did not want Ford inside her apartment, she wanted her nosy neighbors to see her handing over confidential police files even less. Once they’d stepped inside, Ford rocked his weight from one foot to the other. He didn’t peer at the family photos hanging next to his shoulder. He didn’t look toward the fridge and suggest she offer him a drink. He didn’t try to sit on her couch. Hell, he was a better unwelcome guest than her mother.
Derek didn’t sit, either, instead preferring to loom at Ford’s side. He was practically begging for an excuse to use his fists. For his part, the mob boss looked completely unimpressed, wearing a look of calm confidence that, if it was a bluff, was damn convincing.
“You get both?” He meant the files and the data.
Callie nodded. She retrieved the bulky file folder from the countertop and shoved it toward him. He accepted it with a single hand, and didn’t show surprise at its weight or heft.
“The drive?” he prompted.
“First, how do I know my brother is safe? That you’ll free him? That you’ll hold up your end of the deal?”
His exasperated sigh should have earned him a swift kick to the shins. Instead he retrieved his cell phone—under Derek’s watchful gaze and occasional snarl—and dialed. He clicked over to speaker mode.