Even with the glamour, JJ’s cheeks are noticeably darker than usual. Looks like Chester Locke isn’t the only one capable of making him blush. “That’s—that’s good,” he says haltingly. “I guess. Keeps them from getting suspicious.”
For some reason, a tendril of disappointment snakes through Cass’s chest at the words. Determinedly, he shoves it down. “Right,” he says, and he turns back to Desi, who’s somehow managed to smear ice cream all over her face and get sprinkles in her hair. “Is it good, Desi?”
“The best!” Desi says cheerfully, taking another huge spoonful. “I love it here. The Courtyard and Lakeside are so much fun! I want to be hereeveryday!”
Cass’s heart melts a little. JJ ruffles Desi’s hair affectionately. “I always loved the Courtyard and Lakeside when I was a kid, too,” he says softly. “I came here all the time with my family. My sister and I—” He cuts himself off, glancing behind him. “We’d, uh, always play tag on the shore, too.”
Cass’s chest hurts. “How old was she when…?”
JJ doesn’t look at him. “Six,” he says quietly. “Four years younger than me.” Clearing his throat, he grabs a napkin and turns to Desi. “Desi—Desi, you got ice cream in yourhair.How did you get ice cream in yourhair?”
And, as JJ sets about futilely trying to clean Desi’s face, Cass takes a deep breath to clear out his whirlwind of emotions and tries to remind himself that they’re just here for Desi. Just co-parents.
Nothing more.
14
All right,” Bryant says, rapidly spinning her desk chair in a circle as she speaks. “Operation Find The Wyvern, hereafter referred to as Operation FTW for obvious reasons. Any ideas?”
“Nope,” JJ lies.
“Same,” Bryant says, and she holds up her hand for a high five.
Gratefully, JJ complies. Roma shoots them a long-suffering look from across the kitchenette’s table, and JJ can’t help but grin back at her.
Right now, the three of them are holed up in Bryant’s suite, as they usually are when they need complete privacy—and sufficient space—to plan a mission. Unlike JJ and Roma, whose bedrooms consist of a single room and a small half-bath, purebreds like Bryant boast sizable one-bedroom suites with kitchenettes and full bathrooms.
JJ is pretty indifferent about the stovetop and refrigerator, but heisjealous of the private shower. Communal showers on the mixed-breed floors aren’t awful, but he usually has to go early in the morning or late at night to avoid other hunters.
Just one of the many little inconveniences that have been nagging at JJ recently.
“I don’t get why the Council is so preoccupied with this stupid demon,” Bryant continues, a scowl creeping onto her lips. “Hell, I didn’t even know that finding it was still our assignment. We’ve had demons escape on our watch before, remember? And we were never expected to track them down.”
“But those demons were located at neighboring Chains within a few days,” Roma counters quietly. “This one wasn’t. And letting an unregistered demon prowl around…” Her eyes briefly flicker to JJ before darting away. “That’s bad news.”
JJ’s heart hurts. He knows that Roma and Bryant have always taken unregistered demons particularly seriously because of the ones who murdered JJ’s and Chester’s families, but?—
But right now, he would really prefer for them to forget about Desi altogether. “It is,” he says carefully, “but I feel like the Council is overreacting this time. We took out the summoner and his militia, which posed a clear and present threat to civilians, but the demon hasn’t even resurfaced since then. This just seems like a waste of the Sanctum’s resources.”
Bryant’s eyebrows rocket up. Roma shoots a sharp glance at the door—closed and locked, as it always is—before turning narrowed eyes back on JJ. “Watch yourself, Jackson. You sound like Chester.”
JJ flinches at the reprimand, automatically snapping his mouth shut.
And then, just as quickly, an unfamiliar surge of bitterness roils through him.
Roma has always done that—“correcting” JJ whenever he does or says anything the Sanctum could perceive as disloyal. As a mixed-breed hunter, she’s particularly aware of the power plays and politics that go on behind the scenes, of the subtle ways mixed and purebred hunters put each other down?—
Of how swiftly an offhand remark could lead to public censure.
JJ knows that she means well. He knows that she’s just trying to keep him safe, and keeping him safe directly translates to keeping him off the Council’s radar. For over a decade, he’s been thankful for her warnings, trying to accept them as graciously as possible, but now?—
Does it ever bother you that they refer to you like you’re dogs?
And it’s not even the Council doing it. JJ distinctly remembers Naomi correcting Roma the same way when they were teenagers, ruthlessly keeping her little sister in line, and he knows for a fact that purebred Sawyer did it to Bryant, too.
The hunters enforce the systemic inequalities better than the Council ever could. Determinedly, he forces the thoughts away. “Okay,” he says reluctantly. “Forget I said anything.”
“I mean,” Bryant drawls, doing another twirl in her rolling chair for emphasis, “I don’t think either of usdisagreeswith you, Jayj. But, unfortunately, the Council decides which threats are worthy of our time and attention, not us.”
