“You two going to share with the class?” Beck asked, already moving toward them.
Derek held the card aloft. “We’ve got a fucking problem.”
The group climbed the rickety basement stairs together, and walked single file back to the storefront. Savannah had hopped onto the glass counter while they were gone. A bead of sweat slithered down Callie’s lower back—from the stairs or the stress, she wasn’t certain. Savannah wasn’t even goddamn dewy.
“Any customers show up?” Derek asked.
“Nah.” Savannah swung her legs enough to let her heels bang against the counter at an easy cadence.
How could she be so casual? Next time they shouldn’t pick her as the lookout. She wasn’t on alert. Maybe she hadn’t ventured past the curtained doorway into the back room. Maybe she didn’t know the place had the tornado-level wreckage of a three-day weekend kegger. Maybe Savannah was good at her normal gig for the Charmer. Maybe she coaxed people back into the building efficiently. Didn’t matter now.
“Do you know anything about the guy they had downstairs?” Callie didn’t bother faking casual.
Savannah looked to Beck and then Miguel. When the latter nodded, she said, “Just another troublemaker. You know how it is. The Charmer points, we shoot.”
The other woman had muscle. There was no denying she could probably stop a runner from the store, but right now Callie simply didn’t believe her. The words were true enough. Callie and Derek had been on the other side of that equation.
“I picked him up solo,” Miguel clarified.
Savannah scowled for a half second before flashing back to basic and bored.
“What do we know about him?” Derek asked. The soft flick, flick, flicka-flick of his thumb against the business card didn’t register with the others, but Callie understood. Derek was planning.
“Everyone I talked to called him Vega.” Miguel was all business. Thank God. He paused, and pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket. He flipped back a few pages. “Almost everyone up in Green Heights knew him. Only around the last few weeks, but making the rounds.”
Beck sidled around the back of the counter until he was closer to Callie and Derek than Miguel and Savannah.
“Anyone renting from him?” Beck asked.
Miguel shrugged. “No one copped to it, but if that many people knew him, there had to be a problem.”
Derek could have extracted the truth from them, but pointing it out would only complicate things. If Derek didn’t need to avoid the police right now, the Soul Charmer would have sent Derek. For the first time ever having the scrutiny of the Gem City PD was working out in their favor. How the hell had that become her reality?
Derek lifted the Anonymous Souls card for all to see. “Did anyone try this number?”
The low-wattage bulbs peering from worn shades at the corners of the room couldn’t reach the black surface. Lighting was unnecessary.
Three sets of eyes narrowed on the business card.
On the blocky yellow digits printed on the back.
No names, slogans, or promises.
The back of the card held all potential clients would need: Ten simple digits and an understanding.
Derek was done with the preliminary dance. He’d been watching the others, too. She’d seen the shuffling, and the collaborative looks. Had he seen more?
“Your girl just found the card, man. When would we have called?” Miguel angled himself toward Savannah. Like she could help him.
“That a no?” The hollow depths of Derek’s voice promised a solid threat.
Beck shot his answer quickly, hands open and high. “I ain’t called the number.”
Derek stared at the other two. Hard. That steely look made mobsters’ knees knock together.
Savannah scratched behind her right ear. “Why are you looking at me? I don’t recognize the stupid card.”
“He didn’t ask if you recognized the card,” Callie said, her voice skating close to a sneer. “He asked if you’d called the number.”
Derek raised his chin a smidge, his jaw holding that same stark line, but beneath it she saw the pride beaming. His eyes caught hers, and in their light grey sea she saw only the welcome of acceptance.
“If I’ve never seen the card, how would I have called the number?” the other woman shouted.
Miguel rested a hand on Savannah’s knee. “Chill.”
“Are you saying none of you have heard of this Anonymous Souls before today?”
Beck offered , “Nah,” but the other two merely nodded.
Derek’s chest puffed, but Callie could handle this as long as he was at her back. “Doesn’t make sense. You dragged in Vega who is associated with this anonymous group, but didn’t know he was a part of it?”
“We bring in who the Charmer says,” Savannah snapped.
“I get that. I also know how he works. I know his tirades and his rants. I know he doesn’t give a shit about some scrawny dude promising souls and not delivering. He cares a whole fuck of a lot about someone setting up shop. Someone printing goddamn business cards. Someone who would have the balls to trash his fucking store. He didn’t send you to pick up anyone. He sent you to handle a threat.” She didn’t bother pointing out they’d failed miserably.
The Charmer wouldn’t stand for this. If he were here, his magic would be slamming them against the walls, fire would be licking Callie’s torso, and someone would be giving up a soul. Only he wasn’t here and that was possibly even more terrifying.
Savannah launched off the counter. The invisible shield that popped the other woman in the chin and knocked her back against the wall wasn’t planned. Callie didn’t have the forethought to imagine using the soul magic in such a manner. She hadn’t given it any thought, actually. Maybe it was the stress of going from a missing mother, to a hospitalized mother, to stealing souls, to picking through blood and glass, to a missing boss, but her emotions
