Chapter 33
33
I t’s just past six p.m. on a warm mid-June day when Roma stalks up the stairs of an apartment building and shoulders her way into a particular studio. “How do you even still have my number?” she demands, shutting the door harder than necessary behind her.
Naomi looks duly unimpressed. She’s sitting at a small kitchen table with her chair popped back on two legs and her feet kicked up, a pose that Roma would associate more with overconfident Sawyer than straitlaced Naomi.
Just another thing that’s changed over the past six years.
“I memorized it, obviously,” Naomi says now. “And it’s not like you ever changed it. Which is a totally bad look from a hunting perspective, by the way?—the Sanctum should’ve given you an entirely new phone after Sawyer and I defected.”
Roma crosses her arms over her chest, scowling. Frankly, coming here today was the absolute last thing she wanted to do, but, well??—
When Naomi texted Roma for the first time in years to ask if she could look over the counterspell, Roma knew that she couldn’t exactly refuse. “I’ll take it up with the Council,” she says curtly, and she digs a copy of the reversal out of her pocket, holding it up. “You wanted to see this?”
Naomi brings all four chair legs back to the floor, extending a hand. “Yeah, give it here. I want to see how good your spellcasting really is.”
Grudgingly, Roma treads deeper into the apartment. This might not be Naomi’s actual safe house, but somehow, she still feels like she’s walking into the lion’s den. “Back in my life for less than a month and already nitpicking me again, huh?”
Naomi’s eyes narrow. “Well, you turned out all right, didn’t you?” she says briskly, and she grabs a pencil, places the counterspell on the table, and bows her head over it, lips moving silently as she reads.
You gave me anxiety. Roma bites back the words, leaning against the opposite end of the table.
Micah’s table, apparently. When Roma looked up this apartment, she found it registered to one Micah Devereux, demon. She’s presuming that Naomi and Sawyer have spent the past six years at other properties owned by their demonic allies, holed up tantalizingly close to the institution?—and the people?—they left behind.
And the fact that Naomi and Sawyer stayed in Redwater all this time is both infuriating and comforting. Infuriating, because they were right under the Sanctum’s nose all along, because they were close enough to reach out to their former students but chose not to??—
And comforting, because there’s a part deep inside Roma that believes that, if the situation had ever gotten bad enough, Naomi and Sawyer might’ve come out of hiding to help them.
Considering their silence during JJ’s defection, though, Roma doubts it. She’s just starting to get fed up with the grating scritch-scratch of pencil on paper when Naomi suddenly sits up, leaning back in her chair to meet Roma’s eyes. “It looks solid. Well done.”
Roma doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or happy about that little “well done.” She fought tooth and nail for years to get any scrap of approval from her sister, but hearing it now just reminds her of everything she’s lost. And??—
And it only took Naomi a few minutes to analyze the counterspell. No comments, no conversation.
Roma doesn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Disappointment and bitterness curl through her in equal measures. “Thanks,” she says curtly, grabbing the paper and shoving it into her pocket without even glancing at Naomi’s notes. “We’ll let you know after we cast it?—or, more likely, you’ll be able to figure it out yourself, because either the epidemic will be over or Ez and I will be dead. Later.”
She’s halfway back to the door when Naomi’s exasperated voice stops her. “For Nostringvadha’s sake, Roma, I didn’t actually text you just to check your stupid counterspell.”
Even after all these years, there’s still something immensely satisfying about pissing off her older sister. Roma turns around with raised eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah? Then what do you want?”
Naomi leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. “To talk, Roma. I’ve been told that sisters customarily do talk to each other on occasion.”
Roma’s hackles rise. “Yeah, well, sisters don’t normally run away with their conspiracy-theory girlfriends and go radio silent for six years, either. So we’re not exactly a model relationship.”
Naomi’s jaw twitches. “That’s fair,” she says, but her voice is quieter now. “And I’m?—I’m sorry about that. That I left without telling you. That wasn’t?—?” She shakes her head. “At the time, we thought it was the best option. That it would be safest if you knew as little as possible.”
“Oh, you thought it was safest to leave your students in the jaws of the massive conspiracy you’d unearthed?” Roma asks, sarcasm dripping off the words. “Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”
Naomi’s eyes narrow. “You still don’t believe us.”
A chord of dissonance twinges in Roma’s chest. At this point, she’s starting to think that she might believe Naomi, that she might think the Sanctum and the Chain are working together, that she might think their conspiracy theory holds water, because??—
Well. It’s not out of the question for the Sanctum she knows to be ruthless enough to murder innocent families and brainwash the sole survivors into a life driven by violence and revenge. That’s not necessarily something unthinkable, not something she would particularly doubt from them??—
Not something she thinks the Council would consider “going too far.” And as far as them working directly with demons, as far as them cooperating with humankind’s worst enemies??—
The problem there, Roma thinks bitterly, is that she doesn’t really see demons as humankind’s worst enemies anymore. Sure, they’re powerful, and sure, that can make them dangerous. She can’t argue with that.
But all those months ago, Obie made it a point to set her up with a safe house?—not because of anything she’d done for him, but just because she needed one. Cass clearly tried to support her as much as he could, too?—not just because she’d helped him rescue JJ, but because Cass knew that JJ cared about her, and Cass cared about JJ.
Nowadays, Ez has coffee and breakfast waiting for Roma every morning when she shows up for their shifts, even though Ez doesn’t need to eat. She stood toe to toe with Micah and Gregorio to argue that Roma was the only human spellcaster she trusted enough for a varsity-level spell, and she treats Roma’s thoughts and opinions with a level of respect that Roma has never gotten in the Sanctum.
Even though Ez is a demon and Roma is a hunter, Ez still tries to take care of her. Just like Obie and Cass did.
But none of that matters right now. Right now, Roma just wants to be angry at Naomi, to yell at her for leaving them behind and not coming back until it was convenient for her, so right now, she’s damn well going to rise to Naomi’s bait. “Of course I don’t believe you,” she snaps. “How can you expect me to turn my back on the Sanctum without any hard proof? How can you expect me to turn my back on Bryant, and Chester, and?—and Mom and Dad?”
Naomi snorts. “Oh, please. When was the last time you saw Mom and Dad? Or even talked to them on the phone?”
A prickle of unease creeps down Roma’s spine. In fact, she hasn’t talked to either of her parents for months and hasn’t seen them in almost a year?—they’ve been on assignment in Argentina?—but Naomi shouldn’t know that. “You’ve been keeping tabs on us.”
“Nope,” Naomi says. “I just know how the Sanctum works, and I know how our parents work. I was your age when I left, remember? I’d already lived through twenty-two years of them never being around. I didn’t expect them to change their ways after I defected.”
Roma scowls. Looks away.
“Listen, kiddo,” Naomi says quietly, and Roma fights back a flinch at the old nickname. “I want to try and mend things between us, all right? I want to try and have some semblance of a functional relationship. Now that you’re involved??—?”
“Not by choice,” Roma argues. “Ez and I didn’t sign up to join your conspiracy, remember? We signed up to learn a spell, and you and Sawyer ambushed us once we got there. And?—?” She sets her jaw. “And what kind of relationship would we even have? I’m in the Sanctum. You’re diametrically opposed to it. There’s no room for us to rebuild anything in the space in between.”
Naomi goes still. “You’re still planning to stay with the Sanctum?” she asks, disbelief bleeding through the words. “After everything?”
Roma scoffs. “After your half-baked conspiracy theories, you mean?”
“No, dumbass,” Naomi fires back. “You’re an idiot for ignoring our research, but fine. Whatever. I mean everything else. I mean JJ defecting, and your little spellcasting dates with Ez, and??—?”
Roma’s temper spikes. “My situation with Ez is none of your business,” she bites out. “And it’s an alliance, Naomi. A business relationship. Neither of us wants to be working together?—we just??—?”
Naomi sneers. “Bullshit. I may have only seen you and Ez together once, but that was all I needed. The two of you didn’t leave each other’s sides the entire time, and you basically spent the whole conversation defending each other. That looked like a hell of a lot more than an alliance to me.”
“Just because your last alliance ended with you hooking up with a purebred doesn’t mean I take after you!” Roma bursts out. “Just because you went against everything you ever taught me doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same, and just because you abandoned the people who needed you doesn’t mean I’m going to follow in your footsteps!”
“Roma?—?”
But Roma isn’t done. “You left us without a word,” she snarls. “And you keep saying that you didn’t have a choice, but you didn’t even try to talk to us. With all this evidence you allegedly had, did you really think you couldn’t have convinced Chester? Convinced JJ?” Convinced me?
Naomi’s jaw works. “The Council asked JJ to pretend to be a dissident for Chester’s final exam, and he still thought they were on his side. Still thought they were just trying to help him. So no, I didn’t think we could convince any of you.”
“I?—?” The words tangle on a sticking point in Roma’s brain. “Wait. How do you and Sawyer know about Chester’s final exam? It was after you bailed. Not even JJ knew until after our commencement ceremony.”
“That’s when I learned about it, too,” Naomi says tiredly, resting her forehead on her hand. “JJ found me that night to ask for acting advice. Wanted to make his ‘defection’ look convincing.”
Numb horror ripples through Roma. “You knew what they were going to make Chester do to him, and you still? ? —?”
“You didn’t see JJ’s face,” Naomi hisses. “He believed every lie the Council told him. There was no way I could convince him. And if I couldn’t convince him, then there wasn’t a chance I could convince you or Bryant.”
Something sharp twists through Roma’s chest. It’s not anger or bitterness this time, though?—it’s more like??—
More like a sensation of not being seen. Of never being seen.
You really thought you couldn’t convince me? You were all I had. Of course I would’ve believed you.
Did you ever even know me at all?
Roma swallows the words down. “You could’ve found a way. You could’ve??—?”
“And what if we were wrong?”
The words are so unexpected?—and so familiar?—that Roma starts with surprise. “What?”
Naomi’s eyes are blazing. “Look, I believed our evidence, okay? So did Sawyer. For the first time in years, everything made sense.” She leans forward. “But what if we were wrong, Roma? What if it really was a test of our loyalties from the Sanctum? What if Micah and Gregorio were playing us? What if our first act of rebellion was going to be our last?” She shakes her head sharply. “There was no way we were dragging you four into that. Not happening. Yes, we believed in our research, but God, Roma, what if we were wrong? What if we got all of you killed right along with us?”
Nausea licks up Roma’s throat. “Naomi??—?”
“There were a lot of reasons why we left without you four,” she cuts in, her voice hard and final, “but not one of them was because we didn’t care about you. Okay?”
Roma’s heart feels raw. “Yeah, okay,” she says curtly, and she looks away. “But the counterspell looks good to you?”
For a long moment, silence crackles between them. “Yeah,” Naomi says eventually. “Yeah, the counterspell looks good.”
“Great,” Roma says stiffly, and she takes a deep breath, forcing her eyes back to Naomi. Her posture is rigid and her face is impassive. Same goddamn hunter Roma always knew. “And I?—I want names. For those other families that you claim the Sanctum killed. The other neophyte hunters.”
Naomi’s eyes flicker. “Yeah, of course,” she says, and she motions Roma forward. “I have them memorized. I’ll write them on the back of your counterspell. Yeah?”
Roma’s throat feels dry. Reluctantly, she digs the paper out of her pocket, trudging back to Naomi. “Yeah.”
And, as her sister scribbles out an endless column of names and locations, Roma has the sick, sinking feeling that this is about to turn into her next nightmare.