Page 33 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

I t was all Kyle,” Obie informs her, still bizarrely proud of his stupid hunter. “Only took him three tries, but…”

Chester throws him a mock scowl. “Hey.”

A small smile tugs on Maggie’s lips, but it looks strained. Frowning, Obie steps forward. “Mags? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looks away. “Well. Everything, I guess.”

Chester’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?” he asks, and the honest concern on his face makes Obie’s heart shiver. Chester has always been nervous around Maggie, but it’s obvious that he cares about her?—even if it’s only because Obie cares about her. “Did something happen at?—at work?”

“Kind of,” Maggie says, giving Chester a cautious look. “Can you actually give me and Obie a few minutes, Kyle? I need to talk with him about a work thing.” Her eyes cut to Obie. “A work thing we’ve been discussing for a while now.”

The words jolt through Obie. His eyes shoot down to the folder in her hand. “Proof? You actually found proof? ”

“I did.” Maggie hesitates, her eyes shifting back to Chester. “Could we discuss this, ah, somewhere private?”

“Oh?—?” Chester immediately steps away. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll go hang out with Trevor and Sasha, and??—?”

Impulsively, Obie reaches out and snags his hand. “Wait.”

Chester frowns at him. Maggie looks even more confused. And Obie??—

This is it.

Ever since late June, Maggie has been searching for proof that the Chain and the Sanctum are working together?—specifically, that the Chain is sending the neophyte demons that they allegedly “save” straight to the Sanctum.

It’s exactly what Obie has spent over a month trying to tell Chester, but without any evidence, he was never able to convince him.

Chester needs to know this. He deserves to know this. “I don’t keep many secrets from Kyle,” Obie says eventually, tugging Chester back towards him. “He knows my many theories about the Chain and the Sanctum. You can speak freely around him.”

Chester stiffens, his eyes snapping to Obie. “What?”

Maggie looks surprised, but she nods gamely.

“Allies are important,” she says, and she holds up the manila folder.

“Originally, the Chain was using Ricci’s name on neophytes’ transfer documents, but now that he’s officially a fugitive, they obviously can’t do that anymore.

That meant they needed to find a new scapegoat, and that meant room for error.

” Her smile is mirthless. “Luckily for us, they made an error.”

Obie glances at Chester’s frozen expression.

“Remember how I said the Chain was shipping neophyte demons to the Sanctum’s prison?

” he says pointedly. “They were forging the signature of a Personnel employee, Gregorio Ricci?—G. Ricci. But Gregorio and his husband, Micah Devereux, publicly resigned right around when Roma Gutierrez defected from the Sanctum. Remember?”

A faint tremor runs through Chester, and with a start, Obie realizes that he’s still holding Chester’s hand. Before he can let go, Chester’s fingers twitch tighter around Obie’s palm. “What kind of error?” he asks Maggie haltingly.

“They fabricated a demon from scratch instead of trying to use someone else’s signature,” Maggie says, handing the folder to Obie.

“They named her Teresa Rose. I started seeing her signature fairly soon after Ricci and Devereux bailed, but I didn’t think anything of it at first?—I just presumed she was a new employee.

” Her jaw tightens. “But when I looked more closely, I realized that not only was Teresa never in her Outpost, but it was impossible to contact her. No property records, not even on the human side. The Chain ‘registered’ her, but all of her personal information fell apart the moment I checked it. Eventually, I did a minor tracking spell and came up empty. Teresa Rose doesn’t exist, but her name has been all over transfer documents.

They’re using her as their new cover to send neophyte demons to the Sanctum. ”

Obie flips through the folder, excitement racing down his spine. Magdalena Khan never leaves any stone unturned, and it’s abundantly clear just how much time and effort she put into this investigation. Every result is meticulously cataloged, every anomaly is scrupulously examined??—

It’s not enough to unravel the entire conspiracy, but it’s a damn good place to start.

She even tracked down the demon who allegedly registered Teresa, and he’s not even from the Education or Registration departments?—no, he’s from Central Office, the Chain’s highest bureaucracy.

Obie taps the offending piece of information.

“They’re barely even trying to hide it.”

“Well, most of the Chain’s upper echelons never assimilated to Earth,” Maggie says. “They all just want to find a way back to Tamaros. And if they somehow think sending neophyte demons to their deaths will help them accomplish that, then I’m sure they’re all for it.”

“As long as the rest of us never found out,” Obie agrees grimly. “Do you have copies of these?”

Maggie nods. “I do. That folder is specifically for you?—I keep my own documents in a secure pocket dimension. And you have… connections that I don’t.”

Micah, Gregorio, Sawyer, and Naomi. Their own little Conspiracy Family. “They’re your connections, too,” Obie says quietly. “I promise I’ll get you in a room with them soon. I know they’d love to ask you more about your investigation?—and the Public Safety Department in general.”

Maggie’s smile is tight and vindictive, and with a stab of sympathy, Obie remembers that she’s brought countless neophyte demons to the Education Department over the decades.

All that time, she never even thought to question that she was helping, that she was doing something good, that she was saving their newly summoned brothers and sisters??—

Promising them that they’d be safe while unknowingly leading them straight into the lion’s den. Obie would want revenge, too.

He jumps when Chester grabs the edge of the folder, tugging gently. “Can I see?”

There’s the barest hint of a tremor in his voice. Steeling himself, Obie hands it over. “Sure. See if you can find any loopholes.”

Obie knows he won’t. Maggie does good work, and her case is rock solid. He watches Chester’s face as he skims the pages, his eyes flitting over the lines of text??—

All at once, he stops dead. “Teresa Rose,” he repeats, his voice very small. “T. Rose. ”

He doesn’t pronounce her surname like the flower?—instead, he almost pronounces it with a “z” sound. Frowning, Obie looks over Chester’s shoulder, following his gaze to the signature line that made him freeze??—

His blood runs cold.

T. Roz.

Chester has seen that signature before. Obie has, too. He’s probably seen it around the Sanctum’s prison a dozen times without even looking for it, seen it in chain-of-custody binders whenever Chester reorganizes them and computer screens whenever he reviews transfer records.

But the first time Obie saw it was a month ago, back when an alleged new-to-Redwater hunter appeared out of the blue to drop off some demons overnight. In a flash, Foxe’s cavalier voice flies through his mind.

Night shift forgot to make a digital profile for this hunter. You know how to do that, right?

This is the Chain’s new scapegoat. This is the pseudonym they’re using to avoid suspicion with the Sanctum’s mixed-breed interrogators. Hell, Chester made her digital profile himself.

This is their smoking gun.

Chester presses a hand to his mouth, his shoulders hunching. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Obie’s stomach plummets. Maggie’s eyes widen. “Kyle, what’s wrong? Are you??—??”

Hastily, Obie wraps an arm around Chester, pulling him against his side.

Unlike when Obie semi-playfully grabbed him earlier, Chester nearly leans half of his body weight on Obie now, like his legs are about to give way beneath him.

“He’ll be fine,” Obie assures Maggie, ignoring the frantic voice in his head telling him that no, you idiot, why would you give Chester proof that his entire life is a lie in the middle of a bowling alley?

“He’s just, um, always had his doubts about the conspiracy.

He hates thinking anyone could be that evil. ”

“Ah.” Maggie nods slowly, her eyes still fixed on Chester. “Do you want a cup of water? Come over to the sitting area?—you can relax for a few minutes, and??—?”

“I?—?” Chester’s voice chokes off. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Shit. “Actually, we should head out,” Obie says, thinking fast. “Tell the twins that, uh, something came up. You can take over for me for the rest of the night. Hopefully, you’ll have better luck now, yeah?”

Still looking at Chester with concern, Maggie nods again and steps back. “Of course. Get home safe.”

“We will.” Obie tightens his grip on Chester and drags him away without a backwards glance, steering him into the cool night air.

Guiding Chester through a rift back to his bedroom in the Sanctum, waving a precautionary soundproofing spell into place, briefly releasing him to make sure the door is locked??—

When he turns around, Chester is still standing frozen in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on the floor and his arms crossed tightly like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Guilt roiling through him, Obie strides over, putting his hands on Chester’s shoulders.

“Locke?—Locke, breathe, okay? Just breathe. Are you all right? Come on, Chester, look at me??—??”

Abruptly, Chester’s hand snaps up, wrapping tightly around Obie’s wrist. He looks up to meet Obie’s gaze, and his eyes are watery like he’s fighting back tears and his lips are pressed together like he’s barely maintaining his composure and??—

His voice twines through Obie’s head. Did the Sanctum kill my family?

Obie’s heart falls.

Of course. Chester was never even willing to believe that the Sanctum had any communication with the Chain?—with demons? —let alone that they were capable of doing something as heinous as targeting human families just to make more soldiers.

But Chester just saw hard evidence that the Sanctum’s recent influx of neophytes has been coming straight from the Chain. And he didn’t only see it in Maggie’s documents, either; he saw it with his own eyes in the prison itself, in every signature forged to look like “T. Roz.”

After all that, it’s no longer outside the realm of possibility that the Sanctum could’ve targeted his family.

It’s no longer unthinkable that the Council has been lying to him from the start, manipulating him from the start, using his trauma from his family’s deaths to groom and mold him into their perfect killing machine.

And Chester knows just as well as Obie does that they can only tell the truth through the telepathic link. Taking a deep breath, he meets Chester’s eyes. Yes. They did.

Part of Obie almost hopes the words won’t transmit, but he knows he’s right when Chester’s face suddenly crumples. He hunches in on himself, a strangled sob choking out of his throat, and Obie’s heart shatters right along with it.

“Oh, Chester,” he whispers, and he pushes into the bond again, needing his words to ring through as clearly and truly as possible. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves any of what you’ve had to go through. I wish?—I wish I could make it right for you.

For a split second, Chester goes rigid. Like he doesn’t know what to make of Obie’s words, like he doesn’t know how to react to someone honestly caring about him.

And then, with a pained noise, he lurches forward, stepping directly into Obie’s arms and burying his face in Obie’s shoulder. Obie wraps his arms around Chester immediately, pulling him close as sobs wrack through him, keeping him steady as his shoulders shake and his legs tremble .

Trying to hold him together as much as he can.

“I’ve got you,” Obie murmurs into Chester’s hair, and after a moment of hesitation, he pushes the same words through the bond. I’ve got you, okay? I promise I won’t let go.

They end up standing there for a long time.