Page 41 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

More than a good thing, actually. At this point, Obie is tempted to call Chester Locke one of his favorite things.

Not that he can ever tell Chester that.

Not without the risk of scaring him away for good.

Ez’s lips twitch. “Yeah, how is Kyle? You were pretty evasive the last time I asked you about him.”

“I was not!” Obie protests. “There’s just not much to tell. I still like him, and he still likes me. We’re on the same page. Always nice when that happens.”

Roma snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely nice when your romantic partner likes you,” she says, and her smile softens. “But I’m really glad you two are still going strong. JJ and I like him a lot. Keep bringing him to group hangouts, yeah?”

“I will,” Obie says. “He’s stuck with me, and that means he’s stuck with the rest of you, too.”

Until Obie and Chester use this counterspell, at least. Viciously, he shoves the thought away.

“No complaints here,” Ez says, resting her chin on her fist as she considers him. “I feel like he’s… good for you.”

Obie narrows his eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just seem happier now, is all.” Ez winks at him. “Whatever he’s doing in the bedroom, tell him to keep it up. It’s good for your blood pressure and general stress levels.”

“All right,” Obie says decisively, pushing himself to his feet. “This conversation is over. Thanks for the counterspell. I’ll see you both for lunch next week, right?”

Ez scoffs. “You couldn’t keep us away from Javier’s tortilla if you tried.”

“I actually prefer Viktor’s currywurst,” Roma says.

“Well, that’s because you’re a barbarian. ”

Obie rolls his eyes, peeling open a rift back to his house. “Later, guys.”

“Bye, Obie!”

“See you around!”

He waves over his shoulder as he steps back into his living room, absently closing the rift behind him. Letting out a slow breath, he unfolds the innocuous piece of paper with the counterspell again, skimming over the incantation without really seeing it.

This is it, then. Frankly, it’s almost anticlimactic. After all those hours of researching in the Sanctum’s library, after all those weeks of Obie and Chester trying to find a solution on their own??—

After all that, Ez and Roma managed to create a counterspell in less than two months. It would be insulting if it weren’t so impressive.

And now, Obie and Chester can break their binding spell. They won’t have to worry about counting the miles or hours when they’re apart, and they’ll be able to go wherever they want and do whatever they want without fear.

The idea is much less appealing than Obie thought it would be. Scowling, he crumples up the counterspell, shoves it into his pocket, and snaps open a rift back to the Sanctum.

Chester hates testing the limits of the binding spell.

Part of the reason, of course, is because of the looming threat of risking the bond’s wrath. He’s been lounging across his bed and poring over records for the entire day, but every time his stomach so much as rumbles, his entire body tenses with memories of excruciating pain and nausea.

Not that Obie would let it get that far.

Even at the beginning, the bond did give them some advance notice before traumatizing them, and nowadays, it’s much gentler with its early warnings.

Logically, Chester knows that Obie will rift back here the moment he gets even a hint of a headache, but he’s had absolutely no luck convincing his brain of that.

But the larger and more embarrassing reason why he hates testing the binding spell is because these tests, by definition, involve separating him from Obie.

And his current preoccupation with Obadiah Smith means that every second he’s not with his demon god is a second that he’s thinking about his demon god, which obviously isn’t conducive to getting any work done.

Chester flips over onto his back, scowling up at the ceiling.

Right now, he’s supposed to be scouring through documents from around the time of Strike Team Kappa’s final exam, but it’s a slow and painful process.

Slow, because Sawyer already found all the obvious discrepancies back when she defected, and??—

And painful, because reading about Kappa’s final exam brings back a lot of memories.

Memories of Sawyer and Naomi starting to train him and his friends together instead of separately, and of Chester being their “demon” adversary during drills, and of the anticipation in the air as they waited for their assignments.

Memories of wishing Kappa well before their exam, and of JJ pulling Chester aside afterward to tell him that he’d gotten their revenge, and of how proud Chester was of his friends during their commencement ceremony.

Memories of Sawyer and Naomi vanishing without a trace, and of Chester torturing JJ for his own final exam, and of everything that came afterward.

Even the fondest memories have gotten darker in hindsight.

And it doesn’t help that today is one of Chester’s precious few days off, so he’s had nothing else to distract him.

He understands why Obie wanted to test the time limit today?—he doesn’t like leaving Chester alone for long stretches at work, not when Nostrand or another interrogator could corner him?—but that doesn’t mean Chester has to like it. And also??—

Well. It is one of his precious few days off.

He really would’ve liked to spend it with Obie.

Abruptly, there’s a flash of purple-gold in the middle of the room.

Moments later, Obie himself strides through the rift, snaps it shut behind him with that casual grace Chester can’t get enough of, and squints over at Chester.

“Wow. You haven’t moved an inch since I left this morning.

I hope you at least took bathroom breaks. ”

Instantly, Chester’s bad mood starts to lift. “Obie! Hey!” he says, pushing himself to his feet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you yet. Were you starting to get a headache?”

Obie arches an eyebrow. “I can leave for another few hours, if you want.”

“No, that’s fine,” Chester says quickly. Probably too quickly, but Obie doesn’t seem to notice. “Were you, um, keeping track of the time? What’s our new record?”

“Nine hours, fifteen minutes, and five seconds,” Obie says immediately, and then he awkwardly taps his watch.

“I, uh, checked right before I opened the rift. So that’ll be more than enough time for me to snoop around the purebred-only wing, and it’ll also be more than enough time for me to take an actual shower in a place with actual water pressure and actual privacy. ”

Chester scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Communal showering isn’t that bad once you get used to it. If you get there early enough, there’s barely anyone else there.”

“Yeah, you see,” Obie says, “I feel like you’re going to change your tune once I introduce you to my shower. It’s glorious.”

“It’s cute how you keep trying to get me into your shower,” Chester drawls .

In a flash, mortification jolts through him.

Just because he wouldn’t mind sharing a shower with a naked and dripping-wet Obadiah Smith doesn’t mean that he actually wants Obie to know that?—or that he has any delusions of Obie feeling the same way.

“I?—I didn’t mean it like that,” Chester stammers, heat flaming into his face. “I didn’t??—?”

“I know you didn’t,” Obie cuts in. He looks a little flustered, too, and Chester curses himself for making him uncomfortable. “But, um, the shower in question ended a while ago. I actually just came from Ez and Roma’s place.”

A smile jumps onto Chester’s face. “Awesome. How are they?”

“They’re good. Still creating new spells and accidentally burning off their eyebrows. The usual.” He hesitates. “And they also figured out how to break our binding spell.”

All the blood rushes from Chester’s head at once. “What?”

“Yeah.” Obie pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, tilting it in Chester’s direction; reluctantly, Chester steps forward to read the incantation, his shoulder just brushing Obie’s.

“This particular reversal needs to be performed by the people who are bound together?—namely, us?—but the power and skill demands aren’t too extreme. Should be a fairly simple spell.”

Chester’s chest feels tight. He takes a deep breath to try and clear it out. “All right. So do we, uh, want to do it? Now, I mean?”

“I guess.” Obie’s face is unusually subdued. “No reason to wait, right?”

And this??—

This feels wrong. This feels really wrong, actually.

Even back when he and Obie hated each other, the one thing they always agreed about was that they wanted this binding spell gone?—to the point where Obie even risked tapping into the Deep and getting Ez involved.

That was their first shared goal, their first joint mission, their first grudging alliance that set the stage for everything that came afterward.

So why does Chester suddenly feel like he’s about to throw up? Why is he getting cold feet when their solution is right here? Why doesn’t he want to end this as quickly as possible, so they don’t have to count the hours or be mindful of their distance anymore?

Why isn’t he more excited?

But, if Chester is being honest with himself, he already knows those answers. Swallowing what’s left of his pride, he forces himself to meet Obie’s eyes. “And you’ll… you’ll come back, right?”

Obie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll still…” Chester’s throat feels like sandpaper. “You’ll still visit, right? We’ll still work together to get evidence and all that? You won’t just??—?”

You won’t just abandon me here like everyone else?

For a split second, Chester is afraid that he accidentally transmitted the thought telepathically, but from Obie’s bewildered expression, it’s clear that he didn’t hear it.

“I’m not going to ‘come back,’” Obie says, sketching air quotes around the words, “because I’m not going to leave in the first place, Chester.

We’re doing this together, remember? We’re burning the Sanctum down together. Nothing is really going to change.”

Some of the tension drains out of Chester’s shoulders. It might not be the current guarantee of Obie’s continued presence in his life, but at least it’s something. “Okay. Okay, good. Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.” Obie clears his throat. “I’ll just be able to shower in peace more often. That’s really the biggest upside.”

Chester snorts out a laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t want to deny you your showers,” he says, casting his eyes towards the ceiling to consider the other implications of breaking the binding spell. “There’ll be a few other issues to sort out, but… ”

Obie’s eyebrows furrow. “Issues?”

“Well, yeah.” Chester shrugs. “If we don’t have the telepathic link anymore, then we’ll have to use more soundproofing spells, and I won’t really be able to answer you if other people are around.

And we’ll have to be careful with the corrosion spell, too?—if the bond isn’t blocking it for you anymore, then we’ll have to make sure you don’t accidentally touch my skin. ”

“Those…” Unexpectedly, Obie’s shoulders relax. “Those are great points, actually. Maybe breaking the binding spell isn’t the best idea yet.”

Relief floods through Chester so hard and fast that he almost gets lightheaded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Obie says, nodding firmly. “Since I’m not planning on leaving for too long anyway, it doesn’t matter if the spell is technically still active or not.

Honestly, getting rid of it at this stage would be more trouble than it’s worth?—especially since we just proved that I can take my showers at home either way. It’s a win-win, at least for now.”

Chester can’t fight back a smile. “That makes sense. We’ll keep the counterspell on hand, of course, but?—but we can just use it after I defect, right?”

“Right,” Obie agrees, tucking the piece of paper back into his pocket. Out of sight and out of mind. “That’ll be our first order of business once we leave this godforsaken place for good.”

“And…” Distantly, Chester remembers Obie’s unsettled reaction when they found out about the telepathic connection?—and the fact that they can’t lie through it. “And there isn’t any risk to leaving the binding spell in place for longer, right? It won’t do any permanent damage?”

Obie shakes his head. “I doubt it. I mean, I’ve had the curse from the gods hanging off my shoulders for fifteen thousand years, and that hasn’t done much more than occasionally tickle.”

The words promptly derail Chester’s thoughts. “I’m sorry. You what?”

Obie blinks back at him, surprised. “Yeah. They put a curse over Earth to keep me from storming back to Tamaros?—the same curse that keeps every other demon trapped here?—but they also put one specifically on me, just to cover their bases. I think it was supposed to kill me, but since I’m more powerful than a regular demon, it’s just sort of…

there. And it’s not like I can ask Ez to break it for me?—not without revealing that I’m Nostringvadha, at least.”

“But that’s??—?”

They laid a curse upon him that would’ve destroyed a lesser demon on the spot.

Chester swallows hard. It’s been ages since he thought about the ominous words from that demon on Nostrand’s interrogation table, and now, they send a trickle of fear snaking through him. “That sounds dangerous, Obie.”

Obie arches an eyebrow. “Aw, are you worried about me?”

“Yes,” Chester says bluntly.

Something indecipherable flickers across Obie’s face before smoothing over. “Don’t worry, puppy. Like I said, it’s been attached to me for millennia?—and my god powers keep it from doing any damage. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Good. We still have to take down the Sanctum together, after all,” Chester says, and as Obie grins back at him and strolls towards his customary desk chair, it occurs to Chester that Obie didn’t seem terribly excited about breaking the binding spell, either.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much about why that might be.