Page 11 of Fool Me Twice (Redwater Demons #2)

11

I t’s been exactly four days since Roma told Ez about the neophyte demons in the Sanctum’s prison, and she’s been regretting that decision for exactly four days.

Gritting her teeth, she bursts towards her punching bag again, throwing a vicious combination of straight punches and elbows before finishing with a savage roundhouse kick. Her breathing feels ragged and her sweaty hair is frizzing out of her ponytail, but despite her best efforts, she just can’t seem to get into a rhythm. Usually, practicing her close combat skills on the training grounds is one of her favorite pastimes, something that really calms her down and centers her, the thin fabric of her boxing wraps the only barrier between her and the bag, but now??—

Now, she just can’t get those neophytes out of her head.

Much to her irritation, she can’t get Esmeralda Laguerre out of her head, either. Despite everything, Ez really seemed to take Roma at her word when she mentioned those demons, and Roma has the sneaking suspicion that Ez actually investigated further?—not that she’s said anything to Roma, of course.

But Bryant and Chester have opened two more mega-rifts since then, and both times, Ez was quieter while she and Roma closed them. Less antagonistic.

Like she was starting to view them as highly reluctant allies instead of active adversaries.

In principle, that’s a good thing. It’s a great thing, actually. Roma’s mission is to get close to JJ again, close enough to convince him to come back to the Sanctum?—or bring him back by force if she can’t. Earning the tenuous trust of one of his demon “friends” is hypothetically an excellent development.

Roma just wishes that development were fabricated, like it’s supposed to be. Not a case of her telling a demon, one of the monsters she’s supposed to hunt, about what could potentially be sensitive Sanctum information. If anyone found out, it could get her thrown in prison as a dissident?—or worse.

And, even though she knows it’s illogical, she can’t shake the feeling that everyone can see the truth written across her face. Like the more she thinks about it, the more danger she’s in. The anxiety keeps whipping around her brain on repeat, getting faster and faster and louder and louder until??—

“?—?earth to Roma? Hello?”

Roma’s heart jumps into her throat. She whirls around to see Bryant standing behind her, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Oh,” Roma says weakly, leaning against the punching bag to catch her breath. “Hey, Bry.”

“Hey.” Bryant squints at her. “You good? I called your name, like, three times.”

“Yes,” Roma says quickly. “Just, uh. Just got lost in thought. What’s up?”

“The Council is sending Kappa out on a job,” she says, and she motions for Roma to follow her. “Come on. I’ll give you the details on the way.”

The words jolt through Roma. Hastily, she grabs her workout bag and breaks into a jog to catch up. “Just Kappa? But they haven’t sent our strike team out alone since?—?” Since JJ defected. She bites back the words. “Are they giving us a third operative?”

Bryant shakes her head. “Nah, they figure we can handle it on our own. I think we can, too.”

A tendril of apprehension creeps down Roma’s spine. “But we always had Jackson as backup,” she says cautiously.

Bryant’s jaw twitches. “Well, we don’t anymore,” she says shortly, shouldering her way through the Sanctum’s imposing double doors. “And we already have you as our close-quarters fighter. Jackson was kind of superfluous, anyway.”

Roma stifles her instinctive argument. Yes, she and JJ were both used to close combat, and yes, they fulfilled some similar functions on the team, but??—

But their skill sets weren’t identical. JJ was undeniably their best combatant, almost always taking point during their missions, and Roma knew she could lean on him when she needed to fall back and focus on spellcasting?—or reevaluate their strategy altogether.

And, above all, JJ would always put himself between Roma and an attacker, no matter the cost to himself. The thought makes her chest hurt. “All right,” she says eventually. “Is it a summoner?”

“As usual,” Bryant confirms. “The site is about forty minutes from town. We should hopefully be back by tomorrow with the summoner dead and the neophyte demon in tow. I’ll drive, you plan?”

Normally, Roma would have JJ as her sounding board for their battle plans. She forces down the memories. “Sure. Just let me take a shower and grab my overnight bag. Meet you in the garage in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Bryant says, and she claps Roma on the shoulder before jogging down the hallway.

Roma waits until Bryant disappears around the corner before letting her shoulders slump. Fighting back a grimace, she adjusts her grip on her workout bag, turns in the direction of the staircase to the third floor, and trudges forward.

Having a strike team with only two people isn’t unprecedented. There have been plenty of times when Roma, Bryant, or JJ got injured during a mission, forcing the remaining members of Kappa to finish the job without them. It entails extra risk, but it’s certainly doable.

But that’s not what bothers Roma. What bothers her is how utterly dismissive Bryant seemed. If the Council told Roma that she and Bryant were being sent out alone, Roma would’ve requested another operative, even if it was a simple mission. Better to be overprepared than underprepared, after all.

Instead, though, Bryant just… accepted it. Immediately agreed and moved on, like she wanted to prove that they don’t need that third person?—that they never needed that third person.

But that’s just how Bryant handles loss: by convincing herself she never cared in the first place. She did it with Naomi and Sawyer six years ago, and she’s doing it again with JJ now.

Roma wishes she could turn off her memories that easily. Letting out a slow breath, she walks down the hall to her bedroom, battles the lock into submission, and shoulders her way inside, glancing around.

Neatly made bed, obsessively organized closet, and old desk?—the one her parents gave her when they left on their first of many long-term assignments overseas. Home sweet home. Roma starts undoing her boxing wraps as she strides towards the closet, mentally calculating the clothes and weapons she’ll need. Enough to last her an extra day if complications arise, but not enough to weigh her down if they need to hike to the location.

Especially now that they’re regularly bringing neophyte demons back for testing instead of killing them. Incapacitating one of them is hard enough, to say nothing of transporting them to the Sanctum’s prison. They’ll have to work quickly to avoid running into any Chain operatives, and??—

Roma stops dead, one of her wraps dropping out of her numb fingers.

The Chain took custody of those three neophytes from the Lakeside summoning, but that didn’t seem to matter?—they still ended up in the Sanctum’s prison. And Roma doesn’t audit other strike teams?—that’s a different job description altogether?—so she has no idea if this is the first time that’s happened.

Has this happened before? Have there been other neophyte demons under the Chain’s protection that still ended up in the Sanctum’s custody?

How much does it really matter who gets there first?

The thoughts feel dangerous in Roma’s head. Heretical. Treasonous.

More fitting for the likes of Naomi and her purebred maybe-girlfriend than the last loyal Gutierrez daughter. Swallowing hard, Roma grabs a haphazard pile of clothes, shoves them into her go bag, and swings the strap over her shoulder, compulsively double-checking the door’s lock before heading towards the showers.

Today, she’s going to do her job as a Sanctum hunter. She’s going to fight tooth and nail to take down this summoner and bring the neophyte back for testing, just like always. With Bryant beside her, it’s not like she can do anything different.

But what about the next time Roma has to close a mega-rift with Ez after a demon comes through? What about then? If Roma had to fight Ez for custody of a neophyte, what would happen if Roma just… lost? Just to test her theory?

It would be disgraceful, of course. The Council would be scathing, and Bryant and Chester would be disappointed. But no one could really suspect her?—or punish her?—for being bested by one of the East Coast’s most powerful demons.

Maybe she could even manufacture that scenario. Ez is clearly suspicious of how often the mega-rifts open around both herself and Roma, so Roma could pitch the idea of opening one late at night and far away from her?—with the understanding that the Chain’s Public Safety Department would probably call Ez to close it, anyway.

That gap between opening the mega-rift and Ez showing up might be just enough time for a neophyte demon to accidentally wander through.

And, despite Ez’s many failings, she’s not stupid. She’d understand Roma’s play and follow up with the Chain afterward, just like Roma would follow up in the Sanctum’s prison.

And then they’d both have the answers they’ve been looking for.

Roma takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly. Strides into the communal showers, drops her go bag by the door, and grabs a washcloth and towel, hoping the hot water can wash away the scent of treason before anyone else notices it.

It’s just past eleven p.m. when Ez gets a call from Maggie Khan, and that’s how she knows this is going to be a bad night. Cursing, she shoves herself to her feet and swipes into her phone, already braced to open a rift. “Khan? What’s going on?”

Maggie’s voice sounds strained. “Another mega-rift just opened in midtown, right on the corner of East and Mayfair. Public Safety is currently dealing with a violent summoner on the far side of the lake, so is there any chance you can handle it?”

Ez bites back a grimace. “How long has this rift been open?”

“At least half an hour.”

Ez swears under her breath. Much as she hates that these stupid mega-rifts seem to follow her every waking move outside of her house, there’s one important upside to the inconvenience: without a spellcaster actively summoning a neophyte to this dimension, Ez and her hunter du jour?—who, if she’s being honest, is mostly just Roma?—can usually close the rift before any demons accidentally wander through.

If it’s already been open for thirty minutes, though, then there’s a good chance that there’s a panicked neophyte demon crashing around Redwater as they speak. Maybe even two or three. “On it,” Ez says curtly, and she disconnects the call, snaps open a rift, and strides through.

When her feet land on the sidewalk, it’s to see the purple-gold of a mega-rift still sparking cheerfully in the middle of Mayfair. Roma’s silhouette is as familiar as ever right next to it, and if Ez isn’t mistaken, she’s currently trying to use her own spin on Ez’s disconnecting spell to close it.

“What are you doing?” Ez demands, jogging up to meet her.

For a split second, Roma looks almost relieved. Just as quickly, though, her expression shuts down. “Trying to do your job for you,” she snaps, turning back to the mega-rift with a scowl. “You ready?”

As an answer, Ez shifts into her spellcasting stance, feet shoulder-width apart and hands raised. “One, two, three?— in the name of Nostringvadha??—?”

“Ages upon ages??—?”

It’s almost eerie how in sync they’ve gotten within a few short weeks of these rifts becoming the bane of their existence. And Ez is under no illusions?—she knows that Roma would be more than happy to attack Ez in a real fight?—but lately, she’s started thinking of Roma less as her enemy and more as??—

Well, “friend” is definitely out. “Ally” is closer, but it doesn’t quite capture all the nuances.

Ez would describe it more like a situationship, honestly. A very bizarre situationship that mainly consists of them sniping at each other, working together with brutally efficient magic for a common cause, and then parting ways until the next time.

When they finish their dual incantations, the mega-rift immediately collapses in on itself and vanishes?—even faster than usual, Ez thinks with a note of pride. Unfortunately, the “parting ways until the next time” component of their normal routine is quickly derailed when Roma whirls around to face Ez, a grim set to her jaw. “A demon got through. We need to catch it before it goes on a rampage.”

Ez groans aloud. Without the distraction of the mega-rift, she can see flashing lights and hear muffled yelling from a few blocks away?—Redwater’s human police force, clearly trying and failing to contain the neophyte. “Seriously? Haven’t your good little hunters tracked it down by now?”

Roma’s eyes flash. “Oh, that’s rich. Why aren’t your Public Safety demons doing their job to, oh, I don’t know, preserve public safety?”

“They’re otherwise occupied with a rogue summoner,” Ez bites out. “You know, an actual threat.”

An unreadable expression flickers over Roma’s face. “Really? Our, uh, hunters went after that one, too.”

“Let’s hope they don’t kill each other,” Ez says flatly, and at that moment, she hears the distant sound of roaring?—and the even more distant sound of panicked shouting?—from the direction of the lights. Cursing, she turns around and starts running. “Come on!”

Roma stays hot on her heels as they sprint down the road, letting the police lights guide them. They bolt past closed shops and open bars, cut down a dim alleyway, emerge onto the next street over??—

Ez skids to a stop, blinking with surprise. “Huh. That’s, um. New. That’s??—?”

Roma finishes the thought. “That’s a giant cat,” she says decisively, taking a wary step forward. “Like, a six-foot-tall housecat.”

She’s not wrong. Some of the details are skewed, of course?—Ez has never seen a green cat with bright orange stripes, black fangs, and three tails?—but it looks more like a gargantuan kitten than an apex predator.

But that doesn’t make sense. Usually, a demon’s true form on Earth is based on their summoner’s worst nightmares, but what human’s worst nightmare is a cat? What human??—??

There’s a flash of movement in Ez’s peripheral vision. Frowning, she glances over to see??—

A stray tabby cat, peeking out at the chaos from underneath a parked car. All at once, sympathy stabs through Ez. “No summoner to give her a true form. She probably just panicked and copied the appearance of the first living creature she saw,” she says, and she raises her voice, ducking and weaving through the crowd. “Everybody, stand down! She’s just scared!”

“That’s why we’re not shooting,” one of the police officers?—Matthias, according to his nametag?—says, an edge to his voice. “The hell took you so long?”

I don’t even work here! “It’s a full moon,” Ez says flippantly, and she cautiously approaches the neophyte demon, hands outstretched. “Hey?—hey, you’re all right now, okay? You’re going to be just fine. This is Nostringvadha’s realm, yeah? Wanderer, Avenger, Memory-Keeper, Beloved?—Nostringvadha is here among us, and…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ez sees Roma start with surprise. She ignores her, focusing her attention on the demon. Tamaros doesn’t really have an audible language?—back in their home dimension, they’d communicate mostly with light and sound and color?—but neophyte demons tend to learn human languages fairly quickly.

And, even if they don’t completely understand the words at first, they can usually parse their meanings from tone and body language. So Ez keeps her voice soft and her movements gentle, invoking Nostringvadha’s name to convey what she really means.

You’re safe now. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.

You can trust me.

Eventually, the demon calms down enough for Ez to step close, placing a hand on her furry shoulder. “I’ve got this, Officer Matthias,” she says, nodding at him. “You guys can head back to the precinct.”

Matthias doesn’t budge, his gun still at the ready. “We’ll head back to the precinct once she’s off the street. Do you, uh, need any help?”

Ez shakes her head. “I’m just going to rift her to??—?”

“Gutierrez!” Without warning, three humans?—three hunters? —push their way through the crowd. With a jolt, Ez recognizes one of them as Bryant Nehemiah, the third member of JJ’s old strike team. Bryant gives Ez a distasteful look before her recurve bow appears out of thin air, an arrow already nocked and aimed. “What are you waiting for? We??—?”

The neophyte demon lets out a low, liquid growl. Hastily, Ez jumps back into her soothing nonsense. “Hey, hey?— you’re still safe, all right? You’re still safe with me, still safe here in Nostringvadha’s realm, still??—?”

“Stand down!” Unexpectedly, Roma grabs Bryant’s arrow and jerks it down, eyes narrowed at her strike team partner. “We’re outgunned this time.”

Ez gapes at her, stunned. Bryant looks almost outraged. “Outgunned? Roma, it’s four of us against Laguerre. We can take her. We??—?”

“Pardon me,” Officer Matthias cuts in, giving Bryant a very flat smile. “But Ms. Laguerre has this situation under control, and as an officer of the Redwater Police Department, I’m releasing the neophyte demon into her custody. You can head back to the Sanctum.”

Instantly, the tension on the street ratchets up. Ez steps closer to the neophyte, holding her breath as Bryant and Matthias size each other up. Most civilians in Redwater?—and especially the police?—usually don’t take sides in the ever-present demon versus hunter conflicts, but??—

But it can’t be denied that humans tend to trust the demons more than the hunters. After all, demons live among them in town, shop at all the same stores, run a few small businesses. They’re friends, neighbors, even food truck operators.

The hunters are just the cult on the hill.

Bryant’s voice is frosty. “I’m not sure what Tabitha Nasir will think of that decision. And I’ve been told she’s good friends with the sheriff.”

“Bryant,” Roma snaps, shooting her a glare. Bryant glares right back. “Just drop it, okay? We didn’t win this one. Let’s just?—let’s just go home.”

Ez squints at her, confused. Back at Lakeside a few weeks ago, Roma was ready to fight for custody of the three neophytes despite being at a similar disadvantage. Why is she giving up so easily now? Why would she??—??

Roma’s eyes flicker to Ez, dark and searching. Abruptly, Ez’s blood runs cold.

I saw all three of them in the Sanctum’s prison last week.

Roma isn’t letting Ez take this demon back to the Chain because the hunters are outnumbered. She’s letting Ez take her to see what happens to her.

To see if she ends up in the Sanctum’s prison, just like the others. Considering the fury on the other hunters’ faces, Roma is clearly risking the Sanctum’s wrath to figure out this little mystery that she pulled Ez into.

Their little mystery, maybe.

Ez’s throat feels strangely dry. She swallows hard to clear it out. “Well, on that note,” she says, and she snaps open a rift before anyone can argue. “I’ll be taking my leave with my new friend over here. Let’s not do this again.”

And she tries her hardest not to look back at Roma’s piercing gaze as she guides the neophyte demon through the rift to the Chain.