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E z is ninety-nine percent sure that Roma Gutierrez had some sinister ulterior motive for telling her about the neophytes in the Sanctum’s prison. Ninety-nine percent sure.

Because there’s a nagging one percent of her that thinks Roma looked honestly shaken by the entire situation. It’s a one percent that Ez has been determinedly trying to ignore for the past three days.

She scowls down at her hot cocoa, prying off the lid to let it cool more quickly. Right now, she’s drowning her sorrows in the back corner of a cute little downtown café, and right now, she’s hoping and praying that she won’t get caught up in another stupid rift-closing escapade with Roma.

Or any other hunter, really. It’s just that Ez has started to think of Roma as her own personal annoyance. Her cross to bear. Her significant bother.

Her significant bother who is significantly bothering her right now, even though the hunter in question is nowhere in sight.

And there are a thousand potential explanations for Roma’s spicy piece of intel, of course. She could have mistaken the demons’ identities, or she could be actively lying to mislead Ez, or she could even be trying to run another long con, but??—

But there’s a little whisper of “what if?” in the back of Ez’s mind, obstinately refusing to go silent. Because if Roma is telling the truth, then this entire situation reeks of something nasty.

Something like corruption. Demons aren’t immune to bribery, after all. Some newer demons can try to take shortcuts to establish themselves on Earth once they realize they’re stuck here for good, hoarding money and power to pave their way, and some older demons can develop a taste for everything humans have to offer.

Like soul energy. Ez shudders at the thought. Creating the soul bond between JJ and Cass as a last-ditch attempt to save Cass’s life was bad enough; she doesn’t even want to think about a demon actively preying on humans to increase their own power.

But it’s not outside the realm of possibility that a Chain demon could’ve traded those neophytes to the Sanctum to advance their own agenda. The idea makes Ez feel sick to her stomach, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

And if the Sanctum is still trying to perfect their “testing”?—the spells they used to tear Cass’s soul into shreds?—then she could imagine a particularly sociopathic hunter trading human lives for demons to experiment on.

Ez needs to find out what’s going on, but she doesn’t have the resources. Cass isn’t an option, since he’s currently hiding from the Chain, and even though Obie has probably accumulated enough favors to get answers, she doesn’t want to put him in that position. Maggie Khan is out, too?—she wouldn’t stand for corruption like this, so if she knew anything, she would’ve acted already.

That leaves her with two last options?—two last options who she isn’t quite sure she can trust. Impulsively, she digs out her cell phone, swipes into Obie’s contact, and presses the button to call him.

He picks up within two rings. “What’s wrong?”

Ez sputters indignantly. “What? A demon can’t call just to say hello?”

“In general? Sure. But not you. You’re the most Gen Z–coded demon I’ve ever met, Ez. You’ll send a thousand-word text before you dial a number.”

“Touché.” Ez takes a deep breath. “So do you remember what I told you and Cass a few days ago about those neophytes from Lakeside allegedly being in the Sanctum’s prison?”

An edge of tension creeps into Obie’s voice. “Hard to forget. Why? Did something else happen?”

“Thankfully, no,” Ez says. “Or not yet, at least. There might be some developments occurring in the very near future.”

There’s a sudden clatter on the other end of the line?—almost like Obie stood up so quickly that he knocked over a chair. “Do not break into the Sanctum, Esmeralda,” he barks out. “Not without backup, at least. I can meet you there.”

Ez presses a hand to her heart, touched. “You’d help me with a jailbreak? That’s so sweet, Obie. I might just shed a tear.”

“I’m serious, Ez. Where are you?”

“Nowhere near the Sanctum,” she assures him. “But I might be a stone’s throw away from a certain demon’s Recordkeeping Outpost.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Wow. You’re worse than Cass.”

“Lies and slander,” Ez protests. “Cass wouldn’t have even called you for a second opinion. He would’ve just waltzed straight into Micah’s office and started interrogating him.”

“You’re not wrong. So you’re going to see if Micah knows anything?”

“It only makes sense. Most of the Redwater Chain’s paperwork crosses his desk at some point. If there were any anomalies in the neophytes’ documentation?—or if there was a lack of documentation?—then Micah would’ve noticed.”

“True.” Obie sighs. “Just be careful, okay? And try not to mention Roma’s name. We still don’t know what Micah and Gregorio are up to, and if they have connections in the Sanctum, then we don’t want them to know she was the leak.”

Grudgingly, Ez concedes the point. Much as she doesn’t want to care if Roma gets into trouble, the fact remains that she didn’t have to tell Ez about her suspicions in the first place. That counts for something.

A small something, but a something nonetheless. “Sounds good. I’ll keep you posted, okay?”

“Don’t do anything too stupid,” Obie says, and he disconnects the call.

Smiling to herself, Ez pops the lid back onto her hot cocoa, pushes herself to her feet, and strolls out of the café, making an immediate left to the next building over. She raps twice on the Outpost’s door before poking her head inside. “Hello?”

Micah Devereux instantly looks up from his work, eyes brightening. “Ezzie Laguerre!” he says cheerfully, standing up to greet her. “What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe the privilege of your esteemed company on this fine day?”

Ez blinks slowly back at him. “Do you talk to everyone like that?”

“Mostly,” Micah says. “I’m really trying to set people at ease, you see. Make them feel comfortable coming back to chat on a regular basis. You have no idea how boring it can get in this Outpost, Ez. No. Idea.”

“Why don’t you just quit, then? It’s not like you and Gregorio need the money.”

Micah looks scandalized at the very thought. “I can’t just quit! I’m the Keeper of the Forms! It’s a very important job!” He sweeps his arm meaningfully towards the wall, which is indeed covered in mounted containers holding a wide variety of forms. “See?”

“I do see,” Ez says obligingly, and she glances over her shoulder. No one in sight. “I actually, ah, need your help with something.”

“With a form?” Micah pulls open one of his desk drawers, digging around. “I heard that the Chain is contracting with some spellcasters?—did they reach out to you, too? It makes sense, since you’re indisputably Redwater’s best, but??—?”

“No,” Ez says. “I mean, yeah, they hired me, but no, I don’t need help with a form. It’s more of a… personal request.”

Micah goes still. After a moment, he snaps his fingers; the soft breeze of a soundproofing spell settles over the Outpost, closely followed by the clatter of the blinds falling over the windows and the click of the lock sliding into place. “Okay,” he says, planting his hands on his desk and leaning forward. “Is it about Cass?”

Ez doesn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned that Micah immediately went to such lengths to disguise their conversation. “Of course not. As you know, Cass is a fugitive from the Chain, and I have no idea where he is.”

“Of course.” Micah’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s up, then?”

“Did you hear about the rift that opened at Lakeside earlier this month?” Ez watches him carefully. “The first one, with the summoner and the three demons?”

Micah blinks at her. “Well, yeah. Mina from Bibimbap House told us all about it?—or told us about the parts she wasn’t cowering for, at least. Why?”

“Any chance you looked over the paperwork for those neophyte demons?”

Micah frowns. “Of course. Maggie Khan is one of the only demons from Public Safety who actually fills out her forms correctly.”

“And the paperwork was…” Ez hesitates. “Normal? Nothing suspicious?”

And now Micah just looks bewildered. “The demons were brought to the Chain’s Education Department for orientation, just like always. After that, Gregorio signed off on the forms to get them transferred to other states?—Illinois, Washington, and Texas, I think. Why?”

“Because?—?” Ez lets out her breath in a hiss. “Because I’ve been associating with a hunter a lot lately?—unfortunate side effect of the mega-rift situation?—and she claims that she saw all three of them in the Sanctum’s prison.”

Micah stops dead. “What?”

“Yeah.” Ez grimaces. “I don’t know if she was just trying to get in my head, but?—but if she was, then it worked. So I just wanted to check in and make sure that, you know, everything was in order.”

There’s an unnatural stillness to Micah that sets Ez’s instincts firing. Normally, he’s a whirlwind of barely restrained energy, always chatting and gesturing with reckless abandon, but right now??—

Right now, Ez can see every second of his two centuries reflected in his eyes. “You think the Chain gave those demons to the Sanctum,” he says, something like dawning horror on his face. “That the Chain gave them to the Sanctum to torture and?—and experiment on.”

He looks visibly shaken by the very idea. Hastily, Ez jumps in to talk him down. “No, of course not. At most, I think that we might have a corrupt higher-up in the Chain who could feasibly be working with a corrupt higher-up in the Sanctum, but that’s?—that’s just wild supposition, really. Not supported by evidence.”

“Right,” Micah says faintly. “Just, uh. Just wild supposition.”

“And you said that Gregorio himself signed off on the paperwork to get them transferred to other states, right?” Ez prompts. “So there’s my answer, then. Gutierrez was probably just mistaken or lying, and??—?”

Micah’s head jerks up. “Gutierrez? Roma Gutierrez?”

Damn it. You had one job, Laguerre! “Yes,” Ez says reluctantly. “That one. Gutierrez the Younger.”

Micah has the decency to look chagrined by the nickname?—the same nickname he used to describe Roma to Cass a few months ago. Not for the first time, Ez wonders if Micah and Gregorio ever met Naomi Gutierrez and Sawyer Solomon before they defected from the Sanctum and left Redwater behind.

But that’s a mystery for another day. Now, Micah is considering Ez with what can only be described as calculated interest, which she does not appreciate. “Oh. You’ve been… working with her?”

Ez fights back a scowl. “Not by choice. The mega-rifts need to be hit from multiple angles, and unfortunately, the Sanctum’s blocking spell is a solid complement for my disconnecting spell. Gutierrez just happens to be inexplicably available whenever any rifts open near me, which totally isn’t suspicious at all, but…” She shrugs one shoulder. “Them’s the breaks.”

“Right,” Micah says, and suddenly, he pulls open one of his desk drawers, grabbing a stack of folders?—photocopies, Ez realizes with a jolt, of previously submitted paperwork. Sometimes, Micah’s loyalty to his job is almost scary. “I’m going to look into this, okay? I’ll triple-check the paperwork and dig into those out-of-state Chains, too.”

“Micah, you really don’t need to??—?”

“Oh, believe me, I really do,” Micah says, and he gives her a strained smile. “Can I get back to you on this?”

Guilt gnaws at Ez’s stomach. She’s exceedingly grateful that Micah is taking this seriously and jumping on the task with his usual vigor, but??—

But he also looks utterly haunted by the possibility that they could have a crooked demon in the Chain. Ez’s chest twinges. She wouldn’t call Micah “innocent” by any means, but sometimes, he seems more hopeful than the rest of them. She hates taking that away from him. “Of course you can get back to me,” she says quietly. “No rush, okay? I really appreciate your help.”

“And I really appreciate you bringing this up to me,” Micah says, snapping his fingers. The soundproofing spell evaporates like it was never there in the first place, closely followed by the door unlocking itself and the blinds zipping back up. “Do you need anything else, Ez? You’re still taking a break from campaigns, right?”

With all the turmoil in Redwater right now, Ez almost forgot how desperate she was for some action a few short weeks ago. She almost laughs at the thought. “Still taking a break, yeah. And no, I don’t need anything else. Thanks again for the help, Micah.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Micah says, and without further ado, he sits back down in his chair, flips open the top folder on his pile, and starts reading.

Grimacing, Ez backs out of the Outpost and into the steadily warming April air, taking a long sip of her hot cocoa.

Somehow, she really doubts that she’s going to like the results of Micah’s deep dive.