Page 33 of Fool Me Twice

Ez almost laughs at the thought of going on a campaign right now. Between yesterday’s dramatic prison break and the mega-rifts opening all over town and Roma Gutierrez’s stupid scowl haunting Ez’s every waking moment, she has all the action she never wanted right here in Redwater. “Not exactly,” she says, strolling over to lean her hip against his desk. “Actually, it’s a happy coincidence that I ran into both of you here. I was going to stop by Micah’s Outpost later today, but…” She gestures at the demon himself sitting on the other side of the desk. “Here we are.”

“You totally knew I was going to be here,” Micah says. “But that’s on me. I’m exceedingly obvious with how often I flaunt my duties to visit my husband at work.”

Gregorio casts his eyes to the ceiling like he’s praying to Nostringvadha for patience. “You’re not supposed to tell people that, Micah.”

Micah scoffs. “What’s Central Recordkeeping going to do, fire me? Please. They can’t replace the Keeper of the Formsthateasily.” His eyes slide back to Ez, a note of seriousness dropping into his voice. “I haven’t forgotten what we talked about a few weeks ago, Ez. I’m still looking into it, but‍—but there are a lot of moving pieces right now. And it’s not like we can just break into the Sanctum to snoop around.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Ez says. “I’ve broken into the Sanctum numerous times to snoop around recently.”

“So we’ve heard,” Gregorio says, and he snaps a soundproofing spell into place over the Outpost. “How are the demons you and Obie rescued yesterday?”

Ez’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. News travels fast.”

“Mina from Bibimbap House heard a hunter mention it,” Micah says, and his eyebrows furrow. “Did you find the three neophytes from Lakeside?”

A pang twists through Ez. “No. I’m‍—I’m not sure if they’re still alive or not, but they weren’t in those holding cells.” She takes a deep breath. “But we saved a lot of other demons, so it was worth it.”

And it was. Getting nearly forty demons from the prison to an empty field across the country was a challenge‍—especially since hunters can reopen rifts for up to twenty-eight minutes after they’re closed‍—but Ez preemptively countered that by casting an anti-rifting zone over the area. After that, it was just a matter of Obie calling in every favor he had to get the demons sent to his old friends and colleagues, and their work was done within a few hours.

Kathleen ended up in Madrid instead of Portland. Personally, Ez thinks she got the better end of the deal.

Gregorio nods once. “Good. So what do you need? And, before you ask, we’re unavailable for any future jailbreaks.”

“Actually, funny story about that,” Ez says. “Not only did my contact in the Sanctum confirm that last week’s neophyte ended up in the Sanctum’s prison after I hand-delivered her to the Chain, but she also discovered the name of the extraordinary hunter who keeps diverting them there.”

Gregorio and Micah both straighten in their seats. “Well?” Micah asks, lowering his voice. “Who is it?”

“Goes by the name ‘G. Ricci,’ apparently,” Ez says, and she gives Gregorio her most charming smile.

For a moment, Gregorio looks honestly surprised.

And then his eyes darken. “I’m gettingrealtired of Central Office forging my signature,” he snaps, leaning back in his chair.

The words throw Ez for a loop. “You think Central Office is doing it?” she asks blankly, a trace of foreboding coiling down her spine. “Like,CentralCentral Office? The Chain’s actual administration?”

Gregorio’s jaw tightens. His eyes flicker to Micah.

Micah shrugs hopelessly back.

The unease twists even tighter. “Spill,” she demands, leaning forward. “What do you two bozos know that I don’t?”

“Loads of things,” Gregorio says. “I’m almost ten times older than you.”

Ez jabs a finger at him. “Youknowwhat I mean, Ricci. Why was your signature on those forms?”

Micah lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Wait. You don’t honestly think Gregorio was involved, do you?”

“I don’t knowwhatto think anymore!” Ez bursts out, frustrated. “According to Cass, both of you know a lot more about the Sanctum than you’re saying, and you apparently know a lot more aboutthisthan you’re saying, too. And to pin theblame directly on Central Office, not a corrupt Outpost demon? What the hell is going on?”

Gregorio leans forward, his eyes hard. “Just to be perfectly clear,” he says, his voice curt and precise, “I wasn’t involved in this. And it’s frankly insulting that you thought I would be.”

“Uh-huh,” Ez says dismissively. “Stop being a secretive bastard, and we’ll stopaccusingyou of being a secretive bastard.” She plants her hands on Gregorio’s desk, meeting his glower head-on. “My question still stands. What’s going on? Why is Central Office‍—or whoever this is‍—forgingyoursignature in particular?”

“Honestly? No idea,” Micah says. “The other forgeries were forms that could’ve feasibly crossed Gregorio’s desk, but this…” He shakes his head. “This is just bizarre. Maybe they’ve been getting away with it for so long that they got sloppy?”

Ez’s stomach lurches. “Theotherforgeries? How long has this been happening?”

Gregorio and Micah trade those same meaningful looks. Ez fights back a groan. She was happy for these two idiots when they finally got married, she really was, but their near-telepathic communication is infuriating. “A while,” Micah says at last, turning back to Ez. “About twelve years, actually.”

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