Page 121 of Take You Home
“No,I’mgoing after Chester,” Obie cuts in. “We are. Send the Conspiracy Fam after Maggie.”
Roma hesitates with her fingers over her cell phone screen, already poised to text Naomi. “Obie,” she says quietly, “I really hate to askthis, but—but I was the first one to try and run a long con on you guys. Are youpositiveChester is on our side?”
Obie knows that her suspicion—thatallof their suspicions—are unfortunately valid, but that doesn’t stop the words from slicing through him like knives. “Yes. I’m positive.”I’d swear it on Ada’s grave.
Cass’s shoulders are tense. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because—” Obie’s hands start to tremble again. “Because the binding spellalsocreated a short-range telepathic link between us—one that doesn’t let us lie to each other. We’ve tested it. So when Chester tells me that he wants to burn the Sanctum to the ground, I know he’s telling the truth.”
Ez’s eyes sharpen. “What? That doesn’t make any sense. Nothing in that spell you gave us would’ve created a telepathic link, especially not one that’s enchanted like that. I mean, we treated it as a binding spell between twohumans,not a human and a demon, but that shouldn’t change the principles so drastically.”
Panic rises in Obie’s throat. He swallows it down hard.
They’re going to figure it out. Ez in particular is going to figure it out first, diving into the minutiae of binding spells and telepathic connections until she finds a solution.
Or, at least, until she deduces that Obie can’t be who he says he is. And then she and Cass are going to put that together with all the other signs they’ve been ignoring over the years and realize that their best friend in this dimension was their beloved god in their last one.
And Obie can handle that. Really, he can.
Just not right now. “Ez,” he says, “you are the smartest person I know, but Ineedyou to put that aside for now, okay? I need—” Pleadingly, he looks around at each of them in turn. “I needallof you to put that aside for now. I swear that I’ll explain everything later, but this—this just isn’t the time.”
Ez’s eyes narrow briefly before relaxing. “I’ll hold you to that, Smith.”
“Same,” Cass says, “but we’ll revisit it later. For now, though—” He meets Obie’s eyes. “Obie. Are you really about to risk everything for a Sanctum lackey?”
It’s the exact same question Obie asked Cass all those months ago when Cass was getting ready to break JJ out of the Sanctum’s prison. Now, though, Obie knows that what he’s really asking is something different, something hidden in the subtext.
So he answers the question the same way. “I’ve been alive for fifteen thousand years,” he says quietly, “and Chester Locke is one of the only humans I’ve ever met who I’d die for without hesitation.”
Cass’s eyes widen. JJ edges around his fiancé, nodding with approval. “Good. So the five of us are getting Chester. Roma?”
“Naomi just responded,” she says promptly, her fingers flying over her phone’s keyboard. “They want to know whether to meet us here or on the trail outside the Sanctum.”
“Trail outside the Sanctum would be better,” Ez says. “We don’t want to compromise each other’s safe houses any more than we already have. And can we actually get Gregorio on the phone before we leave? He hasn’t been in a conflict zone since the Hundred Years’ War, but he has more combat experience overall than me and Cass combined. He might have some tactical questions we wouldn’t think to ask.”
“On it,” Roma says, tapping a few buttons and pressing the phone to her ear. “Hey, Naomi? Yeah, can we brief you four over the phone? We want to make sure all our bases are covered, and…”
As Roma and Ez jump into a rapid-fire conversation with Naomi, Sawyer, Gregorio, and Micah, JJ glances down the hall, his eyes lingering on the door to Desi’s bedroom. Obie knows that Cass and JJ have left her home alone during dangerous missions before—sometimes, it’s just unavoidable—but neither of them likes it. “Please don’t ask me not to come, Cass,” JJ says softly.
Cass doesn’t hesitate. “I wouldn’t. Not for Chester. I know how much you love him.”
All at once, Obie’s throat feels tight. Chester’s voice wafts through his head like smoke off a match, as clear and precise as if Chester were standing right next to him, his fingers wrapped around Obie’s shoulder to push the words into Obie’s head.
I love you.
No. That willnotbe the only time Obie hears Chester say those words to him. Next time, he’s going to look Chester in the eye when he says them, and he’s going to say them back.
Next time.
Therehasto be a next time. Deliberately, he forces the thoughts from his mind. “All right. We’re on a time limit here. Let’s get moving.”
Councilwoman Nasir’s lips are pressed into a thin line. “You’ve disappointed us, Chester.”
Chester keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling. It’s unfortunately a very familiar view by now. “Thanks. I’m good at that.”
Nasir’s jaw twitches. Chester feels a perverse sense of satisfaction at that. “Do you realize the gravity of what you’ve done?”
“With all due respect, Nasir,” he says, “which, by the way, is exactly none—I’m an interrogator. And I’m a damn good one, too. I know how this game is played. You’re not going to get anything out of me, so how about we skip the villain monologue and head straight to the torture?”
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