Page 94 of Fool Me Twice

Roma’s fingers close on empty air, the rift evaporating before she can bolt back through it. “No,” she stammers, desperately whipping her head around, trying to figure out how to get back to them‍?—

To get back to Ez. Ez and JJ and Naomi and‍?—

She just wants to get back to all of them. She wants to go back and start over, start fresh; wants to team up with them on her own terms, become friends with them on her own terms, fall in love with Ez on her own terms.

To not have the Sanctum‍—and its plans for her life‍—stalking her every footstep.

The Sanctum, she realizes with a jolt, that’s currently just behind her. Obie rifted her halfway up the path connecting the compound to the town, right next to the picnic tables.

Specifically, right next to the picnic table where Ez waited for Roma the week after Roma let Ez take the neophyte from midtown. She blinks back the burning behind her eyes at the memory.

Right now, though, she needs to think. Sheneedsto find a way back to them. She heard Obie say Naomi and Sawyer’saddress over the phone, but it’s halfway across town; even if she runs straight over there, everyone will probably be gone by the time she arrives.

The only way she can get there quickly enough is by reopening Obie’s rift. Roma’s heart leaps at the idea. Because that’s something shecando‍—something any spellcaster can do, as long as it’s been less than twenty-eight minutes since the rift closed. This particular spell isn’t her specialty, but she had to memorize it for spellcasting class, and she still remembers all the principles. Hastily, she drops into the proper stance, stumbles through the incantation, gestures outward with her hands like she’s opening a curtain‍?—

Nothing.

Roma sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force her mind to clear and her roaring pulse to slow. Strong emotions can affect spellcasting, and right now, “strong” is an understatement for the screaming hole in her chest. She resets her feet, repeats the incantation, redoes the gesture, rinse and repeat, panic and frustration mounting as she attempts the spell again and again‍?—

Abruptly, her heart drops.

An anti-rifting zone. Obie must’ve put an anti-rifting zone around the house after shoving Roma back to the Sanctum.

Back to where he thinks she belongs.

And if Roma can’t reopen that rift, then she has no way to find them again. She has phone numbers for a few of them, but she’s sure they’d ignore her calls‍—or just block her outright. And Ez used rifts so much that Roma never knew anyone else’s addresses.

Not that they’re going to be in those addresses for much longer. Roma swallows hard past the lump in her throat at the thought. Now, Ez is going to have to abandon the safe house where they researched spell work together and maybe even herrealhouse, the house that she trusted Roma enough to inviteher inside; Naomi and Sawyer are going to have to abandon the home they found after they defected, the one where they made a new life for themselves‍?—

All because of Roma.

The lump gets bigger. She squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her thumb and index finger against them.

She can’t break down here. Not when a hunter could walk down this path at any minute. Roma needs to get into the Sanctum, into her bedroom‍?—

Into the one place where she can sob in private and know that no one will hear her.

She just has to control her emotions for long enough to get there. She takes a few deep breaths, trying to block the past ten minutes from her mind, before dragging her feet up the hill.

In the past, the Sanctum was always a comforting presence, the fortress that kept her safe, herhome.Now, though, as she reluctantly approaches the imposing double doors, checks in with the overnight guards, and slips down the barren halls, she feels more alone and scared than ever.

And not just because of how she left things with Ez and the others. Over the past few weeks, she’s slowly started to accept the conspiracy that Naomi and Sawyer defected over, slowly started to accept that the Sanctum and the Chain are working together, slowly started to accept that the Council has been lying to her‍—toeveryone‍—from the start.

She might not understand all the details yet, but she doesn’t doubt that it’s true.

So where does that leave Roma? Where does that leave Bryant and Chester, for that matter? Bryant has always been at the very top of the bloodlines hierarchy, enjoying the privilege that comes from a characteristic no one can even measure‍—has that always been a lie, too? And Chester‍?—

“Roma?”

Roma’s eyes snap up. Chester himself is walking down the hallway towards her, his eyebrows furrowed and his interrogator uniform darker than ever underneath the harsh lights. “Chester,” she says hoarsely, attempting a smile. “Hey.”

And poor Chester, who only ever wanted his family back, who only ever wanted to take care of his friends, who only ever wanted a place to call his home‍?—

Were any of them supposed to make it out of this alive?

Whatever Chester sees in Roma’s face, it’s enough to make his eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” he asks sharply, striding forward. “Did something happen? Are you hurt? Roma‍?—‍”

And Chester’s always been like this. Always been sweet, always been caring, always been willing to drop everything to help someone. He’s always beengood,even when the Sanctum tried their hardest to make him feel expendable.

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