So far, though, she’s not giving him much to work with. He’s starting to worry that the only way he’ll be able to convince her to defect is with definitive physical proof, and that’s something they still don’t have. “I’ve just been thinking about Jackson’s situation a lot lately,” he lies, eating a forkful of spinach without really tasting it. “Gutierrez’s, too. So I—I guess I’m wondering if both ChinandDecember are manipulating Jackson, or if it’s mainly Chin. You know?”
“Hm…” Bryant idly mashes her meatloaf and potatoes together while she thinks, grinning when Chester wrinkles his nose at her. She knows how he feels about different foods touching. “To figure out how to break the demons’ hold on him, you mean?”
Not at all.“Right.”
After a long moment, Bryant looks away. “I’m not sure it matters,” she admits quietly. “I don’t think December is purposelybrainwashing him, though—not like Chin is. All of our research indicates that a demon’s developmental age usually correlates with its physical age, so December probably can’t pull off a con like that yet—not if she has the mindset of a toddler.” Her jaw twitches. “But that doesn’t matter, because JJ—becauseJacksonloves her. He considers her his… daughter. And he considers Chin his boyfriend or whatever. He won’t leave them behind without a fight—he’s loyal to a fault. Or we thought he was, at least,” she finishes briskly, tearing another aggressive bite out of her roll.
Chester’s chest hurts. “You’re probably right,” he says, looking down at his plate. “Sorry for bringing it up. I still just want to—to save them. You know?”
Without warning, warm fingers wrap around Chester’s shoulder. He almost starts with surprise.You could try asking how she thinks JJ and Roma are being treated,Obie suggests, his calming voice swirling through Chester’s head and instantly easing a tension just behind his sternum.Part of what convinced you that they weren’t being manipulated was seeing how well Cass and Ez treat them, right?
Affection surges through Chester. Weeks ago, he’s sure Obie would’ve jumped to conclusions after hearing the wrong half of that conversation, but now, he trusts Chester enough to know that he’s just trying to poke at Bryant’s defenses.
Just trying to figure out how to get her out of here with them.
Thank you,Chester pushes back through the bond. Out loud, he says, “And I’m still confused about how they’re being treated, too. Not all abuse is physical, obviously, but every time we’ve seen Jackson and Gutierrez, they’ve looked… pretty much fine. And the entire Redwater Food Truck Association seems to know them, right? So Chin and Laguerre clearly aren’t keeping them isolated. What else could they be doing to keep them away from us?”
Bryant frowns deeply, pondering Chester’s words, and Chesterinternally fist-pumps. The more he can make her consider the possibility that Cass and Ez truly love JJ and Roma, the easier it’ll be to convince her that not all demons are evil—and not all hunters are innocent.
“I don’t know, either,” Bryant says at last, her head tipping to one side with interest, “but we might be able to figure it out. You found all those records of demon–human relationships in the library right after Jackson defected, remember? About demons seducing humans for one reason or another?”
Chester’s heart sinks.She’s right,he says through the telepathic link,but all of those records are heavily biased against demons. The Sanctum picks and chooses the worst case studies to stock there—like, the ones with truly sociopathic demons manipulating and abusing humans.
Obie’s answering sigh winds through Chester’s head.Don’t worry, puppy. We’ll convince her eventually. We just need to find the right angle.
I sure hope so.Outwardly, Chester forces a smile. “Good idea, Bry. I’ll review them again, see if I find anything new,” he says, and he clears his throat, tapping the manila folder. “Also, with—with these documents you printed for me. You didn’t tell anyone I asked for them, right?”
Bryant pauses with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth, her eyes narrowing. “Uh, no. I didn’t see a need to. Why?”
Another wave of guilt wracks through Chester. He looks away. “Because I don’t want the Council to know that I asked for help,” he says, trying to sound as humiliated as possible. “But I read through this assignment three times, and—and I couldn’t find the access codes for the strike teams’ files. Frankly, I was too scared to ask for clarification—I don’t want them to think I’m even more incompetent than they already do.” He darts his eyes back to her. “Could you please keep it on the down low that I asked for help? Just for now?”
A quiet whistle whirls through Chester’s mind.That was slick, Locke. We’ll make an actor out of you yet.
Bryant’s lips twist in a rueful smile. “Of course I can,” she says, reaching across the table to punch his arm. “We need to get you back on the Council’s good side as quickly as possible, after all. I’m happy to do my part.”
“Thanks, Nehemiah,” Chester says, flashing her a grateful smile, and the two of them finish their meals in companionable silence, his shoulder comfortably warm under the weight of Obie’s palm.
25
It’s been exactly eight hours, forty-three minutes, and fifty-five seconds since Obie last saw Chester.
Not that he’s keeping track because he misses him or anything. Of course not. In fact, Obie is currently enjoying the last few minutes of his shower—hisnon-communalshower—in his own home, a luxury he’s been denied for the past two months.
Good water pressure is a fantastic thing. He doesn’t technically need to shower—there are spells he can use to keep himself clean—but nothing beats letting a steady stream of hot water melt his worries away.
Worries like all the trouble Chester could be getting into back at the Sanctum without him. Obie fights back a wince, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair. Right now, he and Chester are testing the time limit on the binding spell, seeing how long they can be apart without incident. It’ll be important to know if Obie gets stuck while sneaking through the purebred-only wing or needs to leave Chester’s side for another reason, but?—
But that doesn’t mean Obie has to like it. He hasn’t felt the slightest bit of a pull towards Chester for almost nine hours, not even a hint of a headache, and honestly, it’s making him anxious.
What if something happened to his stupid hunter? The two of them haven’t been apart for more than a few hours since this entire debacle began, and frankly, Obie has gotten used to Chester’s presence. He’s gotten used to Chester’s solid form and his shadow on the floor and the cadence of his voice and the rhythm of his breathing and?—
Obie shuts that train of thought down before he can follow it any further. No reason for him to think about his preoccupation with Chester Locke right now, not when he’s still enjoying the tail end of his—and he repeats—non-communalshower.
He’s looking forward to introducing Chester to the wonders of non-communal showering once he leaves the Sanctum. Chester obviously had a shower in his parents’ house before his family was killed, but that was over a decade ago. Obie wants to see how Chester reacts to having his own personal containers of body wash and shampoo, not to mention Obie’s fluffy towels.
He wants to see how Chester reacts to a lot of Obie’s creature comforts, really. He wants to cook good meals for him, introduce him to new books and TV shows, buy him new clothes and warm pajamas and a cozy robe that he can wear while he curls up on the couch with a mug of hot cocoa and?—
Honestly, Obie just wants to spoil him. It’s an impulse that he’s carefully not analyzing too deeply.
