“I did no such thing.” She placed her hand on his forearm, the touch as light as her words were firm. “I told you Josh had called. I told you to come for me if I wasn’t here in a reasonable timeframe and I did not talk to either Nate or Adam. They didn’t see me at all. What I did was find out what the hell was happening and check on my brother because I’m not about to let that skeevy soul stealing bitch take another of my family members.”
Derek was quiet for long moments. Too long. Finally, though, he said, “I’m glad you told me before, and I’m glad you didn’t go after Nate.”
That waver in his voice was enough to tell her that hulking mountain move was preparation for kicking down doors on her behalf. She hadn’t screwed this up. “I figured the only way to go after Nate is with more information and with you at my side.” It hadn’t sounded so mushy in her head. Aloud it was more than saying the L word. Heat scratched at her neck. She turned toward the front door, like a customer would make this less weird.
“Damn right, doll.” Derek chuckled. “So what was Nate doing at the St. Jerome?”
He remembered where Josh was working. She smiled and turned back to him. The humor faded when she answered, “Other than trying to get my brother to rent a soul for free from him? He was handing an Anonymous Souls card to the construction site boss.”
Derek dropped her hand. “For fucking real?”
He covered his mouth and started to pace. Callie was primed to commiserate in the WTFery, but the shop’s door opened.
The woman who toddled in on stilettos picked the wrong time to pop in. “I’m here,” she announced like it meant something.
“That’s nice,” Callie muttered.
The woman opened her mouth again, but Derek spoke first. “Running a little late, Barbara.”
Lovely. A return. Callie peeked at the time on her phone. She’d told Miguel and Savannah to send people in, and it looked like they were following through. Barbara’s four-inch heels pushed her up an inch taller than Callie’s five foot nothing, if you didn’t count the hair. The renter’s blonde mane was teased and spritzed to the point it had to be a fire hazard.
“This winter weather has me in the holiday spirit. I’ve been decorating and it got the best of me.” Barbara’s white button-up blouse and perfectly lined red lips didn’t look like a woman who hadn’t been carrying boxes from the storage room.
“You skip Thanksgiving in your house?” Derek was edging behind Barbara to block the door. He offered a half shrug to Callie. They needed the soul back, and apparently this one could be a runner.
“I just love the Christmas season, and we should keep our Lord in our hearts all year don’t you think?”
Come the fuck on. This woman had a rented soul nestled between her tits and she was here preaching about loving the baby Jesus? Whatever this lady did with the rented soul was her business, but the incredulity here was razing Callie’s already ragged nerves. “One should never skip a food holiday,” Callie said like it was a joke.
The woman laughed. Derek’s somber nod, though, was the correct response. He understood.
Callie walked over to the woman. The first flickers of fever tickled her skin. Callie grabbed the flask and the warmth faded. Callie didn’t want to feel this lady’s soul like she had Josh’s. She didn’t even know how to decide how much to push. Best to stick with the basics.
“How late returning is she?” Callie asked Derek.
The tiny woman drew herself up to her full height and then some. “I’m here to see the Soul Charmer. He’s who I do business with.”
Haughty tones would get this lady nowhere. “That’s nice. He put me in charge right now. You do business with me.”
“I will do no such thing.” She pivoted on a wobbly heel toward the door.
Derek was waiting. His arms were folded in front of his chest. He looked right over the woman’s head to maintain eye contact with Callie. He didn’t even acknowledge the woman, which only further incensed her.
The woman began to sputter demands. Callie had no time for her. “Look, I can take the soul out of you either way. You might as well return your rented property, and get on with your Christmas decorating bullshit.”
“Well…You can’t blaspheme like that!”
“Look, Barbara, I’ve had a pretty bad day. I do not have the energy to pretend that you decorating for Christmas in November is interesting to me at all. Return the soul, and we can both be on our ways.” Callie was exhausted and she let it show. After this she was going to need to pop some energy shots before heading downstairs. Snoozing before interrogations was probably frowned upon.
The woman sulked, but shuffled back toward Callie. A quick flip of the cap and a light connection of flask to sternum and the soul was safely extracted. Callie slipped the flask back in her pocket. Barbara turned to leave again.
“How much does she owe?” Callie asked Derek.
“Her bill is $375 last I checked,” he said without any inflection. He could be intimidating as fuck when he wanted, and right now Callie loved it.
“Five hundred, please.” She said please because some customer service habits simply couldn’t be broken.
Barbara was already backing away, and tucking her purse securely beneath her arm. “He just told you the bill is $375.”
“Before taxes and fees.”
“The Soul Charmer doesn’t charge taxes.”
“Of course he does. He’s an upstanding citizen and remits sales tax on all services as required by state law.” The fact Callie managed not choke on her own laughter in this moment could only be attributed to the extreme stress she’d been under.
“He pays it out of the price. It’s $375,” Barbara reiterated.
Callie needed to be sure this woman wasn’t
