Page 67 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)
Hastily, Cass hustles after him. “Not that I don’t trust you,” he tells Roma, “but I just want to make sure my fiancé survived testing the experimental magic.”
“Understandable.” Roma waits until Cass sticks an arm back through the rift, giving them a thumbs-up from the other side, before motioning the rest of them forward. “Let’s move.”
A smirking Gregorio and a fondly exasperated Micah jog through next, followed by Naomi and Sawyer looking like proud parents. Obie slips through just before Ez, squinting as his eyes adjust to the dim indoor lighting.
And, even though he’s only been in this particular location once, a spark of recognition flashes through him. They’re in the Sanctum’s restricted spellcasting library?—the one that can only be accessed from within the prison itself.
Roma rifted them directly into the prison, something that not even Obie could do without his god powers before today. He waits until she carefully closes the rift behind them before clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Great work, Gutierrez.”
She gives him a shaky smile. “Thanks, Obie.”
Ez wraps an arm around Roma’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “So my incredibly sexy girlfriend got us through Phase One of our rescue mission. What’s Phase Two?”
“Figuring out where they are,” JJ says, stepping forward. “There are forty-two interrogation rooms in this prison, and Chester and Maggie could be in any one of them. Should we split up to check them all, or??—??”
If they’re setting up the spare interrogation rooms, they really are short-staffed?—we only use those when we literally don’t have any other space.
Obie tastes bile. “Actually, there were only two unoccupied rooms left last night. Odds are good that Chester and Maggie will be in those.”
“Let’s go, then,” Sawyer says, and she leads the way out of the specialty library.
The nine of them slip down the labyrinthine hallways, heading towards the break room.
An interrogator strides out just as they’re creeping up, and Obie supposes the universe just owes them the sheer dumb luck of her not even noticing that the door takes noticeably longer to click shut behind her than usual.
“All right,” JJ whispers, his shoulders tense and his eyes sweeping over the eight identical hallways leading off from the break room. “Where are we going, Obie?”
Obie’s throat feels dry. “The seventh and eighth hallways?—all the way at the end. I’m not sure who’s in which one, but…”
He’s praying that Chester isn’t in the spare room at the end of the eighth hallway. Not under these circumstances.
Not after everything they shared there last night.
“Either way, we’ll get both of them out,” Ez says, subtly bracing a hand on Obie’s arm. “I know you wanted to go after Chester, but??—?”
Abruptly, a scream cuts through the air. It’s high and panicked and excruciating, and even though it’s muffled by the prison’s soundproofing, Obie’s heart still stops with recognition.
Chester.
Obie is sprinting down the eighth hallway before his conscious mind even processes it, his god powers instinctively flaring out and sending the spare interrogation room’s door flying.
He registers the details in front of him like they’re in slow motion?—Chester strapped down to the table and thrashing in pain, Nostrand with a blowtorch singeing the side of Chester’s face??—
In a flash, Nostrand’s back is crashing into the wall and Obie’s hands are around his throat. He drops his human facade entirely, horns spiraling out from his head and wings whipping out to either side.
Letting Nostrand know that he just pissed off the wrong god.
Nostrand’s eyes bug out as he paws at Obie’s arms, staring at him in undisguised horror. “What?—the? ? —??”
Obie slams a hand over Nostrand’s mouth to muffle his inevitable screams and slices his way into Nostrand’s mind, ripping out the memories of the past few hours. Being assigned to interrogate Maggie, fighting with Chester in the break room, being reassigned to interrogate Chester??—
Relishing every second of pain he got to inflict on his former student. “I really hope you know how much I’m going to enjoy this,” Obie informs Nostrand, smiling with all his teeth.
And then he harnesses all of the godly wrath within him, lets his offensive magic tear into Nostrand’s body, and burns him alive from the inside out.
Not as slowly and painfully as Obie would’ve liked, but quickly and painfully will just have to suffice.
There’s a sharp intake of breath from behind him. “Obie?” Cass says uneasily. “Obie, is?—is that you?”
“I’m sorry,” Roma says. “Am I hallucinating, or does Obie have tentacles?”
“Obie?” The voice is softer than it should be, fainter than it should be, but it makes all the anger drain from Obie at once. “Obie…”
“Chester,” he whispers, letting his human facade bleed back into place as he drops Nostrand’s remains and races over to the interrogation table.
Chester’s entire face?—his entire body? —is sliced open and cut apart, lacerations and bruises and burns covering every inch of him, but his dazed eyes still try to find Obie’s.
Gently, Obie fits his palm against Chester’s cheek. “Chester, puppy, I’m here. ”
Chester’s eyes are bloodshot and shining with tears. “You came back,” he croaks.
Obie’s chest caves in. “I never should’ve left you in the first place,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Chester’s forehead and casting one of Ez and Roma’s neutral-base healing spells as he does. Chester lets out a shuddering breath as his body knits itself back together. “I’m so sorry, Chester.”
“It’s okay,” Chester says haltingly. “I would’ve left me after that fight, too.” Abruptly, he stiffens. “Obie?—Obie, they have Maggie. Maggie and??—?”
“We know they have Maggie,” Roma says, quickly unstrapping Chester’s restraints.
Obie is itching to help, but his hands are already burned raw from touching Nostrand’s skin, and right now, Roma is the only one who isn’t affected by the corrosion spell.
“The Conspiracy Fam is getting her out now, and??—?”
“And Bryant,” Chester chokes out. Obie’s heart drops. “They?—they have Bryant, too.”
“What?” In a flash, JJ is on Chester’s other side, looking down at him with wide eyes. “Bryant defected, too?’
Chester smiles weakly. “Hey, JJ.”
JJ’s shoulders relax minutely. “Hey, man. You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.” Chester’s face crumples. “I’m sorry. I did this to you. I did this to you twice, and??—?”
“Focus!” Roma snaps. “Focus now, apologies later.” She grabs Chester’s hand, squeezing tightly. “Chester, where’s Bryant?”
“I don’t know. I don’t?—?” Chester’s breath rattles in his chest, and fear spikes through Obie. Why does he still sound like death? Obie healed him already! “Nasir said that?—that they’re going to do a soul bond between her and Maggie?”
The words don’t make any sense. “A soul bond?” Obie repeats, running a hand over Chester’s hair. “But soul bonds are usually used to keep demons alive?— why would the Sanctum??—??”
“She?—?” Chester sucks in a ragged breath, struggling to push himself up to sitting.
Hastily, Obie and JJ help to pull him upright, and Obie tugs him forward, letting Chester’s head rest against Obie’s chest. Chester relaxes the slightest bit.
“She said they would?—would rip apart both of their souls. Not just Maggie’s. ”
“Both of them?” Ez asks sharply, her eyes flashing to Cass. “Have you ever heard of anything like that?”
Cass’s face is bloodless. “No. And JJ and I have been researching everything we can find about soul bonds since March. It’s dangerous even when one person’s soul is fully intact, much less when they’re both damaged.”
Cursing, Roma whips around to face Ez, pure fury in her eyes. “I’m getting Bryant. Come with me?”
“Always.” Ez nods at the rest of them. “Meet you outside.”
“Stay safe,” Cass orders, and Ez and Roma race out the door. “Locke, do you think you can walk?”
“I…” A tremor runs through Chester. “I don’t know.”
Obie’s stomach lurches. JJ stiffens. “But?—but Obie healed you. Why can’t??—??”
“JJ.” Cass’s voice is quiet. “Look at him the way I taught you a few weeks ago?— really look at him. You, too, Obie. Look at his soul.”
Obie’s blood runs cold. Slowly, shakily, he pulls away from Chester, letting his physical form drift out of focus and the warm glow of his soul come into view.
The usually smooth, sedate surface is shredded and torn even worse than Cass’s was. A horrified noise chokes its way out of Obie’s throat. “No.”
Chester’s eyes are wide with fear. He looks so small in Obie’s arms, small and vulnerable and younger than his twenty-two years. “What?” he stammers. “Am I dying?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Obie says curtly. “You’re not leaving me that easily, Locke. We still need to finish our argument from earlier.”
A weak smile twitches on Chester’s lips. “Aw, baby. Our love language.”
A strange calmness washes through Obie with the words. “Yeah, puppy,” he says, kissing Chester’s forehead again. “Our love language.”
“And I?—?” Chester’s voice breaks. “I want to come home with you this time. Can I come home with you this time?”
“Of course you can,” Obie murmurs, and he looks up at JJ. “You got Cass out last time. Think you can get Chester out this time?”
JJ is nodding before Obie even finishes the question.
“Of course,” he says, striding around to Obie’s side of the table.
Together, they help Chester to his feet, and Obie reluctantly steps away as JJ pulls Chester against his side, wrapping one of Chester’s arms around his shoulders to support his weight.
Cass flashes Obie a grateful smile?—grateful that Obie effortlessly put JJ on defense instead of on the frontlines. “Thank you,” he says, and he squares his shoulders, gesturing ahead of them. “Lead the way, Obie.”
And, with a feral smile, Obie does.