Bursting through a curtained doorway shouldn’t have been possible. There was no thud of wood against wall and no heavy thwack of palm against wood, but The Soul Charmer managed to slam the curtain aside with enough force to shock a sharp wind from between the folds.
“Your souls will do,” he said to Beck.
The Charmer dropped a flask on the countertop. The jade exterior connected with a dead clunk against the surface. His flask was larger than Callie’s, but far less ornate. The green gemstone wrapped around the container in four thin bands between the brushed aluminum. Beck didn’t move to touch the thing. His fingers twitched at his side. They were far larger than the stone strips. Would he ever feel the hum of magic stored within the device? A rented soul behind Callie’s sternum hadn’t felt like anything to her, but even now her flask, with its rich onyx exterior, warmed and pulsed inside her pocket.
The Soul Charmer turned toward Callie so slowly his spine should have creaked. Red streaks shot through his eyes, but his inky black pupils were sharp. Watching. “Calliope. About time you came back. I agreed to take you on as an apprentice, pay you, and yet I have more than a dozen souls missing from my shelves. Did you think you could simply steal my magic, and then ignore your responsibilities?”
Callie had never had the Charmer turn an accusation on her, but it wasn’t the first time she’d been blamed for bullshit. Zara had been damn good at making everything Callie’s fault. What did it say about her that she knew had to navigate this kind of irrational anger?
She inclined her head, a deferential move, and then said, “I came here as usual. I’ll get your souls like normal.”
Normal. Usual. Fucking lies. None of this mattered, but she needed this magic, this power on her side. She needed to keep the Charmer calm and firmly aligned with her. If Nate asked for more, she’d need that assurance. She’d need access. She’d need souls. She’d need to be able to do whatever was necessary to save Zara.
“The churn is too much,” the Charmer whispered. The words meant little to Callie, but she knew better than to ask for an explanation. He dropped a heavy hand onto the counter.
“Bring back everything you can,” he said to Callie. Then to Beck he added, “Send in more business.”
“I thought you wanted us collecting,” Callie said before she thought things through. Yet again.
“My business isn’t simply retrieving souls. It’s finding them homes, hosts.” Simple words packed with the punch of memory. The image of souls stretching against the well’s barrier flashed to the forefront of Callie’s mind. It was gone just as quickly.
“More hosts.” Beck nodded. “Got it, boss.”
The Charmer was already moving back past the curtain when he called back, “Be back before it gets busy.”
It wasn’t clear which of them he was speaking to, but both Callie and Beck remained quiet for a dozen long breaths. Tendrils of smoke rose from the tips of the incense on the counter. Steady, slow plumes. Tension bracketed Callie’s neck. When the air didn’t waver, she relaxed enough to refocus on Beck.
“I didn’t think he could be more volatile, but I guess sleep deprivation is that much of a bitch.” Callie could muster fake confidence more quickly these days. She sounded unconcerned, even let the corner of her mouth tick up in an almost amused movement. Her heart was working overtime, but Beck couldn’t see that.
Beck shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Then he needs to pop a damn Xanax or double dose some melatonin.”
She fought the urge to roll her shoulders. To loosen muscles and her mind. He didn’t have to hide the harsh halos around his eyes with concealer. When your body exuded physical malice, you didn’t need to cover up your flaws. Every mark, even those of fatigue, could disarm the enemy.
“I actually came to see you.” Her strained voice shivered.
That got his attention. Hazel eyes fixed on her. “Why?”
Hell. She came here to ask him for a favor. Passing one another in the shop didn’t count as knowing each other, though. He rocked on his heels, and she could almost see the way his legs flinched, ready to run. The first time she’d seen Beck he had been coming up from the shop’s basement after securing the Charmer’s rival Tess. She doubted he remembered what the Charmer had gotten Callie to do then, what she’d done to Tess in that room, why she’d done it. She wasn’t sure if that knowledge would help or hurt her today.
“I’ve got a ‘burb retrieval from Jose. You know the stockbroker guy who wears those khaki slacks that the golf nerds down the mountain love?” She was rambling. She needed to focus. “That guy’s wife exhausts me.”
Beck chuckled, but those eyes remained wary.
“I don’t want to go out there. I saw you had Johnny Rocks on your list today. Happy to swap.”
“You want that sketchy addict?” He didn’t hide his curiosity. Callie had only been in this business for weeks, but she already knew curiosity usually ended with shit on fire.
She edged behind the counter, and pulled out the stash box filled with incense. There were three lit in the front room, and the one nearest the door was burned to the stub. Hands busy, eyes down. Faking low-key vibes would only work if she could hide her weariness. Opening the door for him to ask about what was going on, to wonder why she really wanted to spend her morning seeking out a couch-surfing tweaker, would only further complicate things. Her life already was taking on chess master-level complexities, and she was purely a checkers
