JJ fights back a flinch. Chester’s first instinct is always to blame the bloodlines hierarchy, but JJ has to admit that he’s usually not wrong. “I don’t know,” he repeats softly. “In the end, though, itwasmy fault. The demon escaped on my watch.”
Chester’s eyes narrow. “No, it wasn’t. The only reason it escaped on ‘your’ watch is because Roma and Bryant were sloppy enough to get banished. And you took down an entire militiaandthe summoner on your own. The Council should be giving you a medal, not reprimanding you.”
“I don’t want a medal for doing my job, Locke.”
“You know what I mean.” He arches an eyebrow. “But, since we’re serendipitously free at the same time, do you want to train for a bit? Just like old times?”
JJ’s heart feels warm. He knows perfectly well that Chester doesn’t usually take breaks—since the morning shift in the prison starts at eight a.m. and ends at two p.m., he just eats lunch afterward—so the fact that he specifically took one today to try and make JJ feel better is almost enough to erase the sting of Nasir’s disapproving eyes. “Sounds great,” he agrees, and he finally lets his shoulders relax as Chester leads the way out to the training grounds.
11
Cass turns in a slow circle, getting his bearings. The Sanctum’s training grounds, located just inside its notorious twelve-foot-high boundary wall, feature punching bags, targets, and sparring mats as far as the eye can see, giving the hunters everything they need to work out the delicate art of being soulless killing machines. It’s unseasonably warm for late January, so there are at least two dozen of them milling around like good little ants, sweat glistening on defined muscles and cursed weapons blasting through targets. If this were another place and time, Cass would be itching to take a look around, match weapons to faces and names, analyze everyone’s techniques?—
But he has a job to do. Scowling, he cautiously edges around the perimeter, staying far away from stray hunters and keeping his eyes peeled for JJ. Since escrima sticks are his weapon of choice, Cass would expect him to be drilling at the punching bags, but he’s nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s not here at all? He could very easily be in his bedroom, or the dining hall, or?—
Unbidden, JJ’s voice floats over on the breeze. “One more round?”
“One more round,” another voice agrees.
Finally.Cass homes in on the direction of the voice and jogs towards the very last sparring mat, one that was almost hidden around the corner of the building. The first person he spots is an unfamiliar man with dirty blond hair and pale skin, holding an escrima stick and clearly still catching his breath from a sparring match. From Cass’s baseline knowledge of the hunters’ weaponry and the little JJ has mentioned about his friends, he knows that it has to be Chester Locke, interrogator. And the second person he sees is?—
Cass stops dead.
It’s JJ, of course. The second person is Julian Jackson, his scowly hunter co-parent. Much as Cass hates to admit it, he could easily pick JJ’s voice out of a crowded room by this point, and right now, the man in question is dropping his own escrima into his jury-rigged pocket dimension and nodding in time with what Chester is saying.
Cass just wasn’t expecting the man in question to be shirtless. Or streaked with sweat and breathing heavily. Or that the multiple layers of clothes he wears to protect Desi from corrosion burns are hiding a shockingly toned, muscular body.
Damn.
Crying child at home, Cassius! Focus!Shaking his head sharply, Cass creeps forward, debating how to get JJ’s attention. Obviously, he needs to grab the hunter and get back to Desi as quickly as possible, but he also can’t risk revealing himself with a witness right there. Maybe he can whisper something in JJ’s ear? Or even just tap him on the shoulder? He’ll have to pull his sleeve over his hand to make sure he doesn’t burn himself on JJ’s bare skin, but?—
“But it’s actually been a while since I’ve worked on my ground technique,” Chester is saying now, and then, to Cass’s utter disbelief, heflutters his eyelashesat JJ. “Maybe I can get myfavoritestrike team hunter to refresh my memory?”
JJ rolls his eyes. “You know I will. You don’t have to be dramatic about it.”
“Mm…” Chester’s grin widens. “Maybe I’m just trying to see which tactics yourboyfriendcan use on you.”
The words jolt through Cass. JJ chokes on nothing.“Chester.”
“What? It’s a valid question! I just want to know…”
Cass quickly tunes out their bickering, staring at them in bewilderment. JJ looks a little embarrassed, but his shoulders are relaxed and his smile is easy, and Chester is crowded into JJ’s space like he spends all his time there, and?—
And are JJ and Chester… dating?
Cass feels queasy at the thought. Chester’s singsong comment almost made it sound like he and JJ in a newer relationship, one where they’re still testing each other’s boundaries?—
One where Chester, apparently, is trying to see if he can bat his eyes and get JJ to do whatever he wants. And one where, judging by the faint blush creeping up JJ’s neck, it’sworking.“All right, psycho,” JJ finally grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “What technique do you want to review?”
“Escape from the triangle choke?”
Interest flashes over JJ’s face. “My favorite,” he says, and he lets himself fall backward onto the mat, slapping his arms down to absorb the impact. “Here. Get in my guard.”
Chester obediently drops to his knees and crawls forward, situating himself between JJ’s legs. With a grace and fluidity that take Cass aback, JJ pins Chester’s hand down to his own shoulder, sweeps his opposite leg up and around the back of Chester’s neck, cinches his ankles together so Chester’s arm, shoulder, and head are caught between his legs?—
Chester smirks against JJ’s thigh. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man.”
Cass almost chokes. JJ blanches.“Chester!”
