Page 56 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

O bie wakes up.

That, in and of itself, is fairly unusual. Demons don’t need to sleep like humans do, and Obie in particular is paranoid enough that he usually doesn’t even let himself drift into the profound state of relaxation that some demons enjoy.

He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, and sleep is the epitome of vulnerability.

And it’s especially unusual for Obie to feel safe enough to sleep within the walls of the Sanctum itself. It’s especially unusual for him to feel safe enough to sleep with a Sanctum interrogator curled up in his arms, but??—

But Chester Locke has been upending Obie’s sense of normalcy from the start. He lets out a quiet hum of contentment, snuggling closer to his hunter and burying his face in Chester’s hair. Chester shifts the slightest bit in his sleep, unconsciously pressing against Obie, before relaxing again.

At least they’re back in Chester’s bedroom?—and in an actual bed. Obie was altogether thrilled with Chester’s location choice for their first time, but he’s hoping that subsequent episodes will feature more mattresses and less cold metal.

Specifically, he’s planning to get Chester on Obie’s mattress next time.

Obie smiles to himself at the thought, mentally rewriting their post-defection plans.

Obviously, he’s been daydreaming about bringing Chester back to his house, been daydreaming about giving him the tour and introducing him to the?—one more time, for the record?— non-communal shower and the king-size bed, but he never thought it would actually happen.

He always thought Chester would prefer to be on his own, to have that respectable distance, to live in a cozy apartment where they could politely ignore each other.

Apparently, though, the idea of separating was killing Chester just as much as it was killing Obie. Now that they both know where they stand, they can plan accordingly.

Plan to stay closer than ever.

And that’s not even factoring in all the other perks of Chester blurting out his feelings over that interrogation table.

Honestly, the entire night felt like a dream come true: finally being able to tell Chester everything he’s wanted to say for weeks, finally getting to coax Chester into turning off his brain and relaxing under Obie’s hands??—

Finally getting to feel the warmth of Chester’s fingers on Obie’s bare skin.

The only difficult part of last night was the aftermath, when Obie had to hastily wipe down the interrogation table to erase all evidence of their tryst and then invisibly steer a stumbling, blissed-out, and endearingly useless Chester up three flights of stairs to his bedroom.

Chester originally mumbled something about a round two shortly after Obie locked the door behind them, but he promptly proceeded to fall asleep the moment he collapsed onto his mattress, boneless and satiated and content.

Maybe they can have their round two this morning.

Potentially as soon as a few minutes from now, since Chester is finally starting to stir in Obie’s arms. He pulls back just enough to watch Chester’s face scrunch up as he slowly drifts into consciousness, his eyes eventually cracking open to squint sleepily at Obie.

“Oh, that bedhead is adorable,” Obie says. “I’m tempted to take photos for blackmail purposes.”

Chester’s eyes brighten a little. “Hi,” he mumbles drowsily, reaching out to brush his fingers against Obie’s cheek. With a start, Obie realizes that Chester is specifically tracing a spot where Obie’s light brown skin shifts into black snake scales. “You’re still here.”

Obie’s throat tightens. “Of course I’m still here. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“No, I mean…” Chester yawns, his fingers gliding up to trail over Obie’s horns. “You’re still here. Your true form. Your?—?” He yawns again, more explosively this time. “Sorry. It’s early. I’m not making any sense.”

I’ve been trying to find an excuse to ask you to show it to me again for weeks. I loved it.

Obie’s heart shivers. Chester’s overwhelming acceptance of Obie’s true form, that honest interest and curiosity and captivation, makes something feel like it’s slotting into place deep inside Obie’s chest.

Like Chester wants to know every part of Obie, not just the safe ones. “You’re making perfect sense,” he whispers, guiding Chester’s fingers to wrap tighter around his horn. “And you can touch it like this. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Hm…” Chester slides his hand from the pointed tip all the way down to the thick base, pressing his fingertips into Obie’s scalp. “You sa id you mimicked features from all the animals near you, right? So these are from… a ram?”

Obie’s lips twitch. “Yes.”

Chester’s fingers skim down to the patch of black scales on Obie’s left cheek. “Snake?”

“Mexican black kingsnake.”

Chester squints at him. “I thought you were in Canada.”

“Yeah, well, ‘near’ is a relative term for me.”

Chester’s smile looks more awake now. His hand drifts over to the patch of fur on Obie’s right shoulder. “Polar bear?”

“Mm-hm.”

His fingers trace along one of Obie’s wings. “Bat?”

“Correct.”

Chester pauses, giving Obie an unreadable look. “Sorry,” he says awkwardly, pulling his hand away. “Is?—is this annoying?”

He looks unbearably unsure. Obie’s heart cracks a little. “No, puppy, I love this,” he says, and he rests his hand on Chester’s hip, pushing the thought through their bond. I love this. Keep going.

The smile jumps back onto Chester’s face. His fingertips graze over one of Obie’s tentacles, a faint tremor running through him. “Octopus?”

Obie grins. “You really did like those, didn’t you?”

Color rises in Chester’s cheeks. “Shut up, Obadiah.”

“They have a lot of other uses beyond the ones I showed you last night.”

“Stop,” Chester complains, hiding his face against Obie’s chest. It’s such a casual gesture, such an intimate gesture, that Obie’s breath hitches.

The fact that Chester, who anxiously second-guesses every move he makes, feels secure enough to curl up against Obie when he’s embarrassed makes Obie feel just a bit lightheaded.

“You’ve gotta at least give me a chance to come to terms with the bondage thing before you start teasing me about the tentacle thing. ”

Obie presses a kiss to his hair. “All right, all right. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Chester peeks up at Obie with a grin before his gaze drifts to Obie’s forearms. “So how about the eyes? And?—?” He traces one of the mouths scattered across Obie’s torso. “And these?”

Obie lets the lips pucker up, kissing Chester’s knuckles.

Chester’s eyes crinkle in the corners when he grins.

“Those were a mistake, actually. It took me a while to figure out how anatomy works. I realized that eyes and mouths were both important to humans, and then I sort of, you know…” He smiles abashedly. “Overdid it.”

“I love that,” Chester murmurs, dancing his fingers between the mouths. “So beautiful.”

Obie’s chest feels warm. Outwardly, though, he just smirks. “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

Chester strokes his fingers down a patch of feathers on Obie’s hip. “Well, yeah, but…” He settles his palm over Obie’s side, his voice wafting through Obie’s head. You’re so beautiful, Obie.

Obie’s throat feels thick. “Thanks,” he says hoarsely.

Chester taps the feathers. “Eagle?”

“Falcon.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

Obie gapes at him. “They’re not even from the same family!”

Chester looks surprised. “Really?”

Obie groans theatrically, dropping his forehead against Chester’s. “Clearly, I have a lot to teach you.”

He can hear the grin in Chester’s voice.

“I look forward to learning,” he says, his hand shifting back up Obie’s side to stroke a patch of scales.

“And?—and in case it wasn’t already obvious, I really like your true form.

All the little details you picked up from animals, all the different ways you tried to put your tribe at ease…

” He trails off. “It’s like your body is a story. ”

Obie’s heart feels full. He pulls away just enough to meet Chester’s eyes, running his thumb over Chester’s cheek. “I want to take you home with me.”

A slow smile spreads across Chester’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Obie slides his hand down to Chester’s chest, tracing his collarbone. “We can go right now, actually. Whenever you’re ready.”

“And…” Chester’s voice drops to a purr. “And what are we going to do there?”

“Yes, we can have loud, raunchy sex on every piece of furniture in my house,” Obie says, and Chester throws back his head and laughs.

“But I want to start making it your home, too. Want to make it a place where you feel safe, where you feel like you belong. We can?—we can fall asleep together every night and wake up together every morning. I’ll make you coffee and cook you breakfast?—a real breakfast, not what passes for food in the dining hall.

And puppy, I guarantee you’ll love the shower. ”

Chester’s expression shifts. His eyebrows pull the slightest bit together, but he doesn’t say anything.

Obie keeps talking. “We can spend our days however we want. I have an entire safe house filled with books and subscribe to every streaming service in existence. We can travel the world, rift to every country, or?—or we can just walk into town, have lunch in the Courtyard.” He meets Chester’s wide eyes.

“I want to tell our friends about you?—about the real you. I promise they’ll trust you, even Cass and Ez?—they’ll trust you because I do.

And you can have JJ and Roma over at our house whenever you want, and you three can hang out and relax and just be people.

Not Sanctum lackeys, not ex-hunters, not fugitives. Just friends.