Oblivious to Chester’s emotional turmoil, Obie picks up his personal plate from the tray. “I’ll be back soon—just need to grab something from the lockers. Don’t kill each other.”
“No promises,” Sasha says, dodging a well-aimed smack from Trevor.
Shaking his head in amusement, Obie strides off across the alley. As Chester quickly learns, though, “soon” is averyrelative term with him, because he stops at what seems like every lane to say hello to his fellow bowlers.
And his fellow bowlers, for their part, seem genuinely happy to chat with him, too. Apparently, they don’t see him as a demon who could snap his fingers and raze this building to the ground; no, they see him as an integral part of the alley, as much of a permanent fixture as the thirty-six lanes or the neon sign that reads “Nack Bar” instead of “Snack Bar.”
They care about him. The ache behind Chester’s ribcage twinges harder, and he takes a deep breath to clear it out.
At long last, Obie and Chester transition from slick hardwood floors to gaudy old carpet, heading towards the lockers on the side wall. Even with the soundproofing spell, Chester waits until there’s no one else in earshot before speaking. “Did the entire alley just decide to collectively adopt you as their resident demon god?”
“It’s called ‘being polite,’ puppy.” Obie pops a curly fry into hismouth, looks both ways, and holds the paper plate to his chest, out of sight of everyone else. “Take some food, but make it snappy. I can hear your stomach growling halfway across the sitting area.”
Chester almost starts with surprise. “Oh. Uh, thanks,” he says, and he crowds in close next to Obie, hastily grabbing a handful of mozzarella sticks and boneless wings. “People won’t be able to see these floating in midair, right?”
Obie shrugs one shoulder, unconcerned. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you knowanythingabout the spells you cast?”
“I know that they work,” Obie says, his eyes sweeping around as Chester eats. “We’ll probably pack up in around in hour. We can head back to the Sanctum after that.”
It’s almost nine p.m. already. Chester’s chest tightens. “Curfew is at ten, Smith. If I’m not back in time?—”
“We rifted directly out of your room,” Obie cuts in, “and we’ll rift directly back in. There’s no paper trail, Locke. It’ll be fine.”
“But someone could come looking for me,” Chester snaps. “What then?”
“Then they’ll assume you’re in the showers or out cavorting with Nehemiah. Not my problem.” Obie’s eyes harden. “I’m already avoiding my best friends becauseyouscrewed up a spell you had no business casting. You’re not taking this away from me, too.”
Obie stalks back towards his team’s lane before Chester can respond, leaving him scrambling to catch up. And, as Obie argues with Trevor about the merits of bleu cheese dressing and cheers Sasha on while she botches her next frame, Chester can’t help but wonder if Obie’s commitment to this place is less about the bowling itself and more about having a community that can’t be taken away from him.
7
Andthen,”Bryant continues, stabbing her scrambled eggs with a spoon for emphasis, “we had literally just called in our preliminary report to Nasir when we got assignedanothermission! Like, we hadn’t even finished cleaning up from the second one yet! And, just to add insult to injury, it was right on the Redwater–Kingsborough border. I mean, really? I understand that it’s technically still our jurisdiction, but can’t Kingsborough ever, like, do us a solid and cover the area? Their Sanctum isn’t nearly as busy as ours. Frankly, they should be picking up those jobs and thanking us for the opportunity.”
Across the dining hall’s table, Chester looks like he’s fighting back a smile. Honestly, Obie is feeling more than a little amused by Bryant’s complaining himself. “I don’t think people in general make a habit of thanking each other for more labor, Bry.”
“Well, then they should just do it out of the goodness of their hearts,” Bryant grumbles. “I’ve barely even had the chance to shower for the past week.”
Chester wrinkles his nose. “Oh, sothat’swhat that smell is?”
“What? I knew I was going to work up a sweat kicking your ass anyway!”
Chester grins back at her. He mentioned to Obie last week that he and Bryant have taken to training together before breakfast every day, but this was actually the first morning Obie was dragged along to watch that in person—namely, because Bryant’s three back-to-back missions with Strike Team Zeta kept her away from the Sanctum for over a week.
Bryant’s stint with Zeta is a new development. According to Roma, she and Bryant were still sent out as a two-person strike team after JJ defected, albeit with fewer assignments than before. But now that Roma isalsoa dirty defector, Strike Team Kappa no longer exists. Bryant has officially been switched to Strike Team Zeta, where she’s covering for an operative who’s out on maternity leave.
And Zeta is inexplicably busier than Kappa ever was. If Obie were a betting man, he’d say that the Sanctum is probably trying to keep Chester and Bryant away from each other so they can’t discuss any treasonous plans to follow JJ and Roma, but that’s neither here nor there.
Right on cue, his cell phone buzzes in his pocket. Heart sinking, he fishes it out and taps into his messaging app.
ESMERALDA:Obadiah. OBADIAH. We have not seen you in ten thousand years
ESMERALDA:Or more like a week but whatever, where have you been???
ESMERALDA:In any case we require your presence at Yamamoto Sushi Restaurant tomorrow for lunch
ESMERALDA:The C-Fam will be there to discuss ~*~things~*~
