Page 71 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

And stumbles back with a strangled scream, clutching her arm to her chest. Chester’s eyes widen when he sees ragged, blackened burns engulfing her entire hand and traveling halfway up her forearm before shuddering to a halt.

A warning of what could’ve happened if she kept going.

Swearing, Roma huddles close in front of her, gently taking Ez’s charred arm in her hands. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, let me see, let me heal you, let me??—?”

Tears of pain are streaming down Ez’s face. “Okay, so,” she croaks, hastily wiping her eyes with her other hand. “We definitely can’t go back.”

Micah looks stricken. Gregorio steps up next to Roma, holding out a hand. “Here, let me help. You can use your neutral-base healing spell, and I’ll use the usual demon-magic one?—we’ll hit it from two directions. Ready?”

Panic gnaws at Chester as Obie shakes violently in his arms. Both of their best spellcasters are on the sidelines, Gregorio and Micah clearly don’t have any other ideas, all the humans in the room look lost, and Maggie??—

Maggie narrows her eyes at Cass. “Chin. You’re half-human now, right? And?—and so am I? ”

Cass’s gaze flickers to her. “Something like that, yeah. Why?”

Maggie nods at the rift. “Can we…?”

Cass’s eyes widen. “That’s?— maybe,” he says, and Chester’s heart leaps. “That’s a hard maybe, and?—?” After a split second of hesitation, he nods to himself, extends a hand towards the rift, brushes his fingertips against it??—

And snatches his hand back with a cry of pain, lurching away. The burns spread halfway up his palm before stopping, and Cass outright whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Cass?—?!” JJ is at his side immediately, wrapping Cass in a tight hug and pulling him close. “Just breathe, okay, Cass? You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re??—?”

JJ meets Chester’s eyes over Cass’s shoulder, dread in his expression. On the other side of the room, Roma looks up at Chester before jumping into her spell, guilt and anxiety warring across her face.

Numb horror settles into Chester’s bones.

That was it. That was their last shot at saving Obie. The only thing that could break the curse, the only thing that could heal him??—

Close enough to touch, but completely out of reach. Chester hugs Obie closer to his chest, trying to breathe past the fear choking up his throat. This can’t be the end, can it? Obie can’t die just because he chose to save Chester’s life. He can’t??—

There has to be another way. There’s always another way, right?

Even if it takes a little bit of finesse.

Across the room, Roma and Gregorio are quickly healing Ez’s burns while JJ and Micah work on Cass’s, all of them preoccupied; Sawyer, Naomi, and Maggie are engrossed in a rapid-fire conversation, debating their next moves; Bryant is standing by herself in the corner, her eyes flitting around in the calculating way that tells Chester that?—even though this wasn’t her battle until a few hours ago?—she’s still ready to fight it.

In the middle of the room, the self-sustaining rift is still shimmering softly, mocking them with the knowledge that none of the demons can go back to access the Fount of Blessings, and??—

All at once, the gears in Chester’s head grind to a halt.

None of the demons can go back.

None of the demons can go back.

Chester stares at the rift, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Tamaros. Color and light and sound is how he’s always heard neophyte demons describe it?—the utter freedom of not having a physical form, of simply existing as energy and vibration.

Right now, Chester can see a blur of colors through the rift. Hell, he even catches a flash of crimson that might be the fountain itself. It’s so damn close that he can almost taste it, but??—

But humans can’t go there, either.

Right?

Yeah, but what if that’s just because no one’s ever tried?

Chester licks his lips nervously. Carefully, he starts to untangle himself from Obie’s grip. “Obie,” he says, keeping his voice as low as possible, “I need to check something. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Obie’s hands twist tighter in Chester’s shirt. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t? ? —

Chester’s heart tears along the seams. I’ll be right back, he pushes through their telepathic link, and gently, he disentangles Obie’s fingers from his shirt.

It’s either a sign of how much Obie trusts Chester or how weak he is that he doesn’t fight back. Chester desperately hopes it’s the former as he edges up to the rift, braces himself for a world of pain, and taps one fingertip against the swirling surface.

Nothing happens.

That makes sense. He probably didn’t even reach far enough to actually touch Tamaros. Taking a deep breath, he sinks his finger a little farther this time, hoping he’ll still be able to pull away before the burns start radiating down his arm??—

Nothing. Cautiously, he opens his clenched fist, letting the rest of his finger splay through the swirling magic.

Nothing. He slides his entire hand in, all the way up to his wrist.

Nothing. His pulse roaring in his ears, he steps forward and sinks his entire arm through, all the way up past his elbow, all the way up towards his shoulder???—

Nothing. No burns. No pain.

No curse.

“Holy?—?” Chester looks over his shoulder to see Sawyer gaping at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Chester??—?”

Chester turns to Micah. “It’s a fountain, right? It looks like a fountain with crimson water?”

“I?—?” Micah’s thunderstruck gaze is fixed on Chester’s arm. “Yes, but??—?”

“Humans can’t just go into Tamaros,” Gregorio cuts in. He looks as shaky as Chester has ever seen him, shaky with shock and disbelief and what looks a little bit like awe. “It doesn’t?—it doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t??—?”

Chester fights back an unhinged laugh. “Only because no one’s ever been stupid enough to try, apparently,” he says, and this? ? —

This is it. All he has to do is run into the demon realm, find the ancient Fount of Blessings, and bring enough back to save Obie.

Three simple steps. He’s sure he can manage.

“It’s dangerous in there.” Maggie’s voice is low and concerned. “Maybe not for demons, but?—but for anything else, it’s dangerous. You could die. You could??—?”

“Don’t care. I’ve been living on borrowed time since I was ten years old. If anything is worth dying for, it’s this,” Chester says, glancing back at Micah. “How much do I need? Of the Blessings, I mean?”

Slowly, Micah nods. “As much as you can carry.”

“Chester.” Obie’s ragged voice makes Chester jump, whirling around to face him.

Obie is still curled up on the mattress like he’s physically trying to hold himself together, his face ashen and his body wracked with tremors, but his bloodshot eyes are fixed on Chester.

“Don’t you dare, Chester. Don’t you??—?”

“I’ll be right back,” Chester promises, and he bolts through the rift.