Page 43 of A Soul's Curse
Just as we were about to leave the parking lot and cross the street, worry made me reach for Ren’s hand. He turned around, annoyance furrowing his brow, but my body reacted before my mind could catch up with what it was doing. I pulled his hand toward me, forcing him to step closer. Then I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. My heart raced, heat burning my neck and settling in my ears.
Ren’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You do remember how dates work, right? You’re supposed to buy the ice cream first and kiss at the end.”
Mortified, I yanked my hand away like it was on fire. “That wasn’t, like, adatekiss. It was a friendship kiss. You know, like … encouragement. Not to die on me or anything. Since you know … I’m weak and all and I’m gonna have to rely on you to protect me.”
Before I could ramble any more, Ren leaned over and pressed a quick, lazy kiss to my forehead. My whole body froze.
“Friendship kiss,” he said. “If I can’t die, you can’t either. You can trust me, Theo. I’ve got your back. Always.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the sincerity of Ren’s words. I knew he meant it, and there was no doubt in my mind I could count on him.
In silent agreement with each other, we crossed the street side-by-side toward the ice cream shop. Melted Magic was nestled in a row of brick buildings along Derby Street, blending historical charm with a touch of enchantment. Above the door, a hanging wooden sign displayed the shop's name in a playful, hand-painted font. Large display windows offered a view inside the shop, although with all the lights off, not much was visible.
Sticking closely beside Ren, we cautiously approached who I could only assume was Gray. I didn’t know who exactly he was or how he was connected to Caspian, which was the riskiest part of this whole meeting. We had no idea what we were walking into.
Gray had, ironically, a strange gray undertone to his skin, threatening eyes that glowed a deep blue, and wore two metal gauntlets on both his forearms that I was sure could easily punch a fist-sized hole right through my chest. A sharp, bitter smell clung to his clothes.
“Follow me,” he commanded, only some of the tension releasing at the sound of the familiar voice I recognized from speaking to on the phone. He stomped on the cigarette and turned to enter the ice cream shop. We followed behind him, keeping our mouths shut like he had warned. The delightful aroma that carried through the air brought back some of my most cherished childhood memories. As we passed the display cases, the lingering warmth of freshly baked waffle cones and their buttery scent mingled with the cool, sugary fragrance of frozen cream.
Gray, an ogre from the looks of it, led us behind the counter, through a set of double doors, and into the back of the shop, where darkness was replaced by bright fluorescent lights. To one side was a row of metal shelving that stored jugs of toppings, ice cream scoops, and serving bowls and spoons. To the other side were several large freezer chests used for storing additional tubs of ice cream along with a walk-in refrigerator. In the center of the room stood a long, stainless steel counter—spotless and gleaming, prepped for the next day's work—except for the end of the table where a mysterious man sat devouring a bowl of ice cream that dripped onto the shiny surface.
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “The Caramel Fudge Chunk isdivine! You two have to try it.” He thenshifted his focus to the man who seemed to be waiting on him. “Gray, let’s be friendly hosts and get our guests a snack.”
“Oh, I’m good—” Before I could finish my thought, Gray swiftly obeyed the man’s order, scampering through the double doors.
“Hello, Theodore Kingston. Pleasure to finally meet you. I see you’ve brought a … friend. I’m Caspian, although I go by Casper these days. Get it? I’m a friendly ghost. Well, when I want to be, anyway. I can’t believe no one’s picked up on that yet.” The man stood up from his stool, and although he was in his physical form, his skin was so pale he might as well have been a ghost. Otherwise … there was nothing remarkable about him. He could have walked right past me on the street and I would have never known who or what he was. His eyes were a plain, steady brown, his long black hair tied back into a low bun with a few loose wisps framing his angular face. He had a frame that carried just enough muscle to fill out his charcoal turtleneck and fitted black trousers, but not enough to really show off. His posture was easy, unbothered, like someone used to blending in. He held out his hand for me to shake.
“Um, hi. Thanks for meeting with me. Us, I mean.” His skin was unnaturally cold, but there was a sense of timelessness in his greeting, as if that simple gesture was holding far more history than any living person should have.
The swooshing of the double doors announced Gray’s return with two large paper cups of ice cream, complete with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and even a cherry on top. He shoved one into my hands, the other into Ren’s, then drifted off to the side, leaning against the wall and keeping watch but otherwise ignoring us.
“Please, have a seat! You are my guests.”
“I’m not eating that.” Ren dramatically dropped his paper cup onto the table, swatting at it as it slid across the metal counter.He refused to sit, standing between me and Caspian with his arms crossed and a glower on his face. I, on the other hand, was too nervous that my shaking knees might cause me to collapse, so I took the stool beside Caspian as he sat back down.
“Right. Well, no need to be rude. I supposed we should get straight to it, then. You have the grimoire, yes?”
I slipped the backpack off my shoulder, unzipped it, and removed the leather spell book. Caspian’s eyes gleamed with manic excitement as I placed the book in his hands. He traced the brown leather with his fingertips before opening the grimoire and thumbing through the pages.
“Nicely done, Theo.” He didn’t look up from the book when he continued. “You did well. You have my attention. Half hour. Clock’s ticking.”
“The Syndicate,” I started, and I could feel the sweat already forming on my forehead. “I assume you’ve heard of them?”
“Of course,” Caspian scoffed. “If they knew I existed, they’d be all over my magic. Phantoms are created unnaturally, of course. Obviously, that means I must be eliminated.”
“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you, but they know who you are and they’re coming after you. But they don’t want to kill you. They want to use you and your magic.”
Caspian slammed the book shut and searched my face for deceit. “Think carefully about how you answer this next question, kid. Did the Syndicate send you here for me?” The friendliness in his earlier banter vanished. His body shimmered, turning into a transparent figure that only I could see. His bodyguard stepped to his side, muscles flexing and itching for a fight.
“No! Of course not!” My hands flew up in defense. It wasn’t technically a lie, but not the truth either. My goal was to leverage Caspian to trick the Syndicate. Carry out my deal without actually giving them what they wanted.
Ren grunted next to me, hunching over slightly as he placed his hand against his stomach like this whole situation was making him nauseous. I discreetly lifted my hand behind him, offering a quick rub against his back and sending a quick jolt of my magic through him to settle his discomfort. “Look, the Syndicate is after you, but they’re also after me. They say that my magic is dark and filthy, but that there’s also light in it. They took my friend, ripped the magic right out of her body and they refuse to return it to her until I agree to work with them. Unless I can fight back against them, I’ll lose her. They know that with my magic I can find you. So I figured, if they’re coming after you too, we should work together. I need your help.”
Caspian in his phantom form had the air around him crackling with powerful energy as he seemed to draw life from the very shadows. “And what makes you think I’d agree to help you? The Syndicate are a sneaky bunch. How do I know I can trust you?”
I met Caspian's ghostly eyes, my words steady despite the unease swirling in my gut. “Trust goes both ways, you know,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You chose to trust me to bring you that grimoire and I chose to trust you that you weren’t going to do something stupid with the illegal magic that book contains. But regardless, I don’t need your trust. What I need is the power you can offer to take down a common enemy.” I stepped closer, the tension thick in the air. “I’m one of the rare few who can interact with ghosts. And I have a lot of friends. Ask around, if you want. But if we can’t come to an agreement to work together, it’s not going to end well for you.”
I had thought I was doing a good job at threatening him, but it simply just wasn’t in my nature. Caspian returned to his physical form, his lips twisted into a crooked smile and his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and menace. He held that serious stare for only a moment before he burst out laughing. “Your threats are pointless, Theo. I know you’d never act on them. You don’tthink I’d agree to meet you without doing a little research of my own, did you? I already know all about you.” His gaze flitted toward Ren, his playfulness dying. “Andyour friend. Warren Thorncrest.”
