Chapter 24
24
J J is going to die.
He’s resigned to that fate by now. Been resigned ever since the interrogator after Chester didn’t even bother asking questions before picking up her knife, ever since the spellcaster who healed his injuries afterward curtly informed him that he’ll be expected to walk to his execution??—
Ever since they officially stripped JJ’s powers away a few hours ago. He remembers the enchantments hurting when the Sanctum first burned them into his soul at ten years old, but the pain was nearly excruciating now.
He’s officially a regular human again. No stronger than a civilian. Probably weaker, actually?—concussion-induced unconsciousness aside, he’s barely slept for more than a few minutes at a time since they captured him, and they’ve only given him enough food and water to keep him alive. And even if this morning’s last healing spell made his body appear unbroken, he’s still shaky and threadbare from exhaustion and stale adrenaline.
But that doesn’t mean he’s going down without a fight. He’s spent the better part of the past few hours slowly prying a nail out of his bedframe with his fingernails, and he’s currently working on extracting a second. They might be paltry weapons, but he can still slide them between his pointer and middle fingers to punch the first interrogator he sees in the throat.
He’ll feel bad if it’s Chester. Otherwise, he’s stopped caring entirely.
Occasionally, he hears the low murmur of the interrogators’ voices outside, the sharp click of cell doors opening and closing. Muted screams that the soundproofing can’t contain. This is where Desi would’ve been if he’d delivered her for testing, and more than anything else, knowing she’s safe is the one thing that lets him feel at peace.
He doesn’t regret saving her. Doesn’t regret any of it, honestly. Even if Chester was right, even if she did use her human fa?ade to manipulate him, he can’t really blame her for it.
She did what she had to do to survive, just like JJ did. He can’t fault her for that. And he definitely doesn’t regret the time he spent with her afterward, showing her the world and watching her grow.
His list of regrets is surprisingly short, actually. He regrets not telling Roma and Bryant the truth, regrets betraying them, more than anything else. He regrets that Chester’s last memory of him is going to be from the wrong side of an interrogation table.
He regrets not hugging Desi goodbye, just one last time. And he regrets not telling Cass that??—
JJ’s eyes sting. He forces his fingernails harder under the head of the nail, trying to distract himself with the pain.
Don’t think about Cass. Don’t think about Desi. Don’t think about Roma and Bryant and Chester.
Just think about your next move.
And JJ’s next move is probably going to be his last. Even if he manages to take down the first interrogator, there’ll surely be more?—dozens more, once they sound the alarm. Maybe if he still had his powers, or if he hadn’t spent days on end being tortured, or??—
He cuts off that train of thought before he can follow it any further. No use dwelling on the what ifs, not now. So he keeps prying out the nail, keeps watching the door, keeps straining his ears to hear the muffled noises outside. Judging by the volume of footfalls in the hallway, he knows that change of shift passed a few hours ago, but it’s hard to gauge time without windows. He pries out the second nail at what he thinks is around ten in the morning and decides to push his luck for a third. At best, he’ll have three weapons.
At worst, he’s already scheduled to die at noon.
The footsteps in the hallway start to fade. Preparing for the execution, maybe? Distractedly, he wonders how much accelerant they’re going to need, if anyone besides the Council will be there to watch??—
If Roma and Bryant and Chester will be in the audience.
Don’t think about that. Just think about your next move.
He’s not going to be able to pull out the third nail in time. He abandons the attempt, sits in the very middle of his cot with his feet planted on the floor, and watches the door.
Counts his breaths. Tries to match them to seconds. Slides the nails between his fingers, spins them until the cold metal warms against his skin.
Waits for the door to open.
Waits for the end to come.
Waits for??—
A scream makes JJ bolt to his feet, heart slamming against his ribcage. That didn’t sound like it was coming from an interrogation room?—no, it sounded like it was coming from the hallway. Did a prisoner get loose? It’s possible if the interrogators are short-staffed for the execution, but JJ doesn’t think it’s ever happened before. Another scream, louder than before, closer than before??—
Screaming and racing footsteps and the clang of metal and a roaring, something deep and primeval and bone-chilling that sends liquid terror spiking through JJ’s veins.
That doesn’t sound like an escaped prisoner. Shaking, JJ drops into his fight stance. Close enough to the door to attack, far enough away to see his opponent. The shrieking and the roaring are getting louder, louder and closer and angrier? ? —
Without warning, thick black smoke starts oozing under the door, curling and undulating towards JJ. He fumbles the nails, bites out a curse, and slots them back into place. He can’t fight smoke, even if it seems to be billowing towards JJ with a mind of its own. Eyes fixed on the door, ears straining??—
Screaming. Roaring. Weapons clanging. Cacophony.
Abruptly, JJ’s door creaks open.
At first, he doesn’t see anyone there, the churning black smoke obscuring his vision. But then a figure appears in the doorway, and JJ’s eyes manage to adjust, and he realizes with mounting horror that the figure is a tiger.
Not a normal tiger, though. No, it’s more like an abstract artist tried to paint a tiger from someone else’s description and got all the details terrifyingly wrong. Dark blue coat, impossibly arched spine, jagged teeth and claws, glowing yellow eyes??—
It’s a demon. A demon’s true form. Every instinct in JJ’s body is screaming at once, impotent alarm bells clanging in his head. He wants to run and there’s nowhere to run, wants to hide and there’s nowhere to hide, wants to fight and??—
And it’s just him and two nails against a demonic tiger. Somehow, he doesn’t like his chances.
The demon prowls into his cell languidly, casually. Like it knows it has all the time in the world to rip JJ to pieces and is enjoying the anticipation. JJ’s chest clenches with fear as the tiger stalks closer, closer, the smoke swirling and whipping around it until its gleaming eyes are all JJ can see??—
All at once, the smoke disappears.
And Cassius Chin is standing in its place.
Relief and confusion and joy slam through JJ so fast that he sways on his feet, legs trembling and nails dropping from his numb fingers. “Cass?” he stammers.
Cass’s lips twitch. He reaches out a hand. “Let’s get out of here, Jackson.”
The hollow ache of resignation in JJ’s chest vanishes like it was never even there. It’s less of a run and more of a stumble towards Cass, reaching out to intertwine their fingers so Cass’s warm palm rests against his own.
And Cass’s half-smile morphs into a grin as he pulls JJ close, peels open a rift, and guides JJ through.
“I promise you can rest soon,” Cass says, pulling JJ forward onto a barren patch of tundra in Siberia and snapping the rift closed behind them. The cold wind bites into his bare skin?—manifesting clothes after a true form transformation is a waste of energy that he doesn’t have time for right now?—but with JJ next to him, he barely feels the chill. “Twenty minutes of rift-hopping to throw the Sanctum off the scent, ten minutes to let Desi hug you like her life depends on it. Can you hang in there for another thirty minutes, JJ?”
“Of course,” JJ says immediately. His hand is trembling in Cass’s and his voice is scratchy like he’s been screaming, and Cass forces down his white-hot fury at the humans who dared to hurt his hunter. The Sanctum’s spellcasters might have healed JJ’s physical injuries, just like Roma said they would, but Cass can still see the trauma of the past few days in JJ’s pale face and bloodshot eyes. “How is she? Desi?”
Deliberately, Cass decides to leave out the anxiety and the crying. “She’s been really sad,” he says carefully, pulling JJ through another rift to Peru, “and she really misses you. Having you back will be good for her.”
A small smile tugs on JJ’s lips. Some of the tension in Cass’s chest eases at the sight. “It’ll be good for me, too,” he says quietly. “And?—and how about you? How are you?”
How is Cass? Well, that’s a loaded question if he’s ever heard one, especially coming from the man who just spent three days being tortured to within an inch of his life. Honestly, it’s just like JJ to take care of everyone else before himself, to put the rest of the world first??—
To keep holding himself together when it’s so clear that he’s one wrong move away from falling apart. Cass has the nagging feeling that he’s going to have to coax JJ into being kinder to himself from now on.
Later, though. Right now, Cass still feels a little out of breath. Even though his demonic true form features claws, fangs, and enough nightmare fuel to make most humans cower in a corner, fighting his way through the hunters wasn’t easy. He and Roma got into the Sanctum easily enough?—Cass made them invisible for their trek through the halls and their brief detour to the weapons room for JJ’s escrima sticks?—but once she deactivated the anti-rifting spell work in the prison itself, all hell broke loose.
Not that Cass was complaining. He’s been a ball of pent-up rage for days now, and taking it out on the hunters who hurt JJ was beyond satisfying.
Roma is safe. They jury-rigged an alarm spell to let her signal Cass once she was safely away from the Sanctum, and he felt the low buzz of confirmation at the base of his neck shortly before he reached JJ’s cell. He already asked Obie to set up a safe house for her, and Obie should be meeting her with the key within the next hour.
And now, JJ is safe, too. He’s here and he’s safe and he’s smiling at Cass, and in this moment, that’s all that matters. “Me? Well, I’m still pretty high on adrenaline, so I’m splendid,” Cass says, and he tries out a smirk. “Thought you’d seen the last of me, didn’t you?”
JJ’s smile falters. “Actually, yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Cass’s heart twists. “Stupid human,” he says, shoving as much affection into the words as possible. “You thought imprisonment and impending execution could get rid of me?”
The grin comes back. It’s shaky and disbelieving, like JJ isn’t quite convinced this is real, but it still makes Cass feel lighter than he has in days. “I’ll never doubt you again,” JJ says softly, and his eyes dart up to meet Cass’s. “Thank you.”
Cass’s throat feels dry. “Entirely my pleasure,” he says, and hastily, he snaps open their next rift, pulling JJ through. “Any location requests? We’ve got another fifteen minutes of rifting ahead of us.”
JJ hesitates. “Somewhere warm?”
Cass tries not to think about how cold it was in that prison. “Tropics it is, then,” he says, and he tugs JJ twenty feet away before peeling open their next rift to an island in the Bahamas. “Eventually, we’re going to head back to the safe house where you always picked up Desi. Right now, it’s been compromised the least, so it’s our safest option.”
JJ nods slowly. “And Desi is already there?”
“She is,” Cass confirms. “She’s going to be really happy to see you. Ez and Obie are watching her?—I think they’ll be glad you’re alive, too.” He hesitates, debating how much to reveal right now. “And we had some unexpected help. Your friend Roma tracked us down to join the jailbreak.”
JJ’s eyes widen. “Roma?”
“Yep,” Cass says, guiding JJ through their next rift into an especially desolate stretch of the Sahara Desert. “Got us into the prison, pointed me straight to your cell, and deactivated the anti-rifting spell work. And she got out of the Sanctum in one piece?—I made sure of that before we left.”
“But…” The shaking in JJ’s hand gets more pronounced. “Are you sure we can trust her? She’s a mixed hunter, and she’s always been loyal to the Council, and??—?”
“JJ,” Cass says, and he lightly squeezes JJ’s palm as they walk. “Please just let me worry about that today. You can start worrying about it tomorrow, once you’ve had a good night’s sleep and a hot meal. Okay? I’ll handle all the little details for now.”
For a long moment, JJ stares at Cass, taken aback.
And then, slowly, he nods. “Okay. Thanks, Cass.”
Has anyone ever really taken care of JJ before? Cass’s heart hurts at the thought. “Of course. No problem.”
“Also, why?—??” Belatedly, JJ’s eyes flicker downward. “Why are you naked?”
Cass fights back a grin. He was starting to doubt JJ was even going to notice. “It’s surprisingly difficult to use magic to get clothes on properly. Ez and Obie can manage it, but it’s a weak point in my spellcasting?—the last time I tried, I ended up with my head stuck in a pair of sweatpants. For now, I’m saving my magic for the rift-hopping, and I don’t want to waste time fumbling around with jeans when we’re, you know, actively on the run from sociopathic hunters.”
“You could always make a toga out of a bedsheet,” JJ suggests. “Quick and easy. I used to do it all the time when I was a kid.” Almost instantly, he snaps his mouth shut, looking mortified. “Sorry. Stupid idea. I??—?”
With a pang, Cass realizes that JJ’s brain-to-mouth filter is probably nonexistent right now. Perks of sleep deprivation and adrenaline. “Actually, that’s a great idea,” he says adamantly, and he waves open one of his pocket dimensions, digging around for a bedsheet. “And I can even put it on while I walk. Good call, Jackson.”
JJ looks torn between embarrassed and pleased. Cass feels vindicated. “You know what you’re doing, Chin?”
“Of course. The Roman Empire might’ve been before my time, but I’ve crashed a frat party or two in my day.” Cass tucks one corner of the sheet between his chin and shoulder, wraps the fabric twice around his waist, and pulls the opposite corner up to meet the first. He hesitates on the knot, reluctantly slowing to a stop. “Help me tie it?”
JJ steps forward at once, pulling the edges taut and looping them around each other. Even sleep-deprived and shaky, he still works with his usual quick efficiency, securing the knot, checking that it’s tight enough??—
His fingers brush against Cass’s neck. Cass fights back a shiver.
Instantly, JJ snatches his hands away. “I’m sorry!” he blurts out, eyes wide with horror. “I’m so sorry, Cass, I didn’t mean to touch you, I??—?!”
Alarm jolts through Cass. “JJ?— Julian!” he says, grabbing JJ’s hand in both of his own. JJ freezes, his fingers twitching in Cass’s. “It’s okay. I’m okay, yeah? And so are you. I promise.”
JJ’s wild eyes are still locked on their joined hands, incredulous and disbelieving.
And then, abruptly, his shoulders slump. “Right,” he says weakly, and he takes a shuddering breath. “Right, they?—they took away my powers. No more corrosion spell. It just happened a few hours ago, so?—so I forgot. And you?—?” He laughs unsurely. “You’ve been holding my hand this entire time . I don’t know why I, um. Didn’t notice until now.”
Cass’s chest aches. Roma told him that the Sanctum was going to strip JJ’s powers away this morning, so Cass wasn’t necessarily worried about grabbing JJ’s hand, but he was still relieved when he was met by warm, smooth skin and not excruciating burns.
And, realistically, nothing was going to stop him from touching his hunter at this point. Even if it did burn him, he would’ve done it anyway.
He needed to convince himself that JJ was really safe. “The immediate danger might be over,” Cass says quietly, tugging JJ forward again, “but you’re still in crisis mode. Your brain isn’t processing extraneous details because you’re focused on survival.” He squeezes JJ’s hand again, and JJ relaxes the slightest bit more. “So no more Sanctum enchantments. But that’s good, right? They won’t be able to track you, and you won’t have to worry about hurting Desi anymore.”
Or hurting Cass. He hasn’t quite gone down the rabbit hole of all the things he can potentially do now that he can touch JJ freely, but he’s sure it’ll keep him up for the next few nights.
JJ gives him a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s definitely good. And this?—?” Unexpectedly, he squeezes Cass’s hand. “This is nice, too.”
Cass’s heart leaps, twirls, and promptly tries to beat its way out of his chest. Even if the words are mainly a product of JJ’s current sleep deprivation, the fact that he said them at all means that he’s thought about touching Cass, and that means??—
Yep. Definitely going to keep him up for the next few nights. “It is nice,” Cass says faintly, and he clears his throat, swiping open their next rift. “Come on. Another ten minutes, and then we’ll be back in Redwater.”
Ten minutes later, JJ’s feet find solid ground in an unexpected place?—a clearing in the middle of a forest. He stumbles the slightest bit with surprise, and Cass’s fingers tighten around his elbow, steadying him. “You okay?”
“Fine,” JJ says automatically, even though “fine” is probably the last word he would use to describe himself right now. “I just?—I thought we were going home? Back to your safe house?”
“In a minute,” Cass says, and he lets go of JJ’s arm, turning to face him directly. His eyebrows are pulled together with concern. “But you’ve been through a lot over the past few days?—a lot of loss, a lot of trauma. A lot of pain. So I just…” He hesitates. “Want to make sure you’re okay? And see if you need some time to decompress? Before you see Desi again?”
“I’m?—?”
I’m fine. JJ’s stock answer. It’s what he’s always said to his friends, to his strike team, to the Council?—how he always responds, even when he’s falling apart at the seams.
Deflecting attention. Denying weakness.
Not letting them think any less of him than they already do.
But the words stick in his throat when he looks at Cass. There’s such clear warmth in his eyes, such honest caring. Cass doesn’t want the stock answer, doesn’t want to brush JJ off, doesn’t want to dismiss JJ’s emotions or experiences.
He really wants to know. He really wants to help.
He really, truly cares.
The last fragile chains holding JJ’s composure in place snap into pieces. Suddenly, the endless limbo of the past few days is crashing down around him, torture and sleep deprivation and adrenaline that just won’t quit, and JJ is choking on it, drowning in it??—
“JJ?” Cass’s hands fly up to frame JJ’s face, his eyes sharp and worried. “JJ, breathe.”
“Sorry,” JJ manages to croak. “I’m sorry?—I??—?”
He feels shaky. Lightheaded. Impulsively, he stumbles forward into Cass’s arms, his legs going weak underneath him. Cass instantly pulls him close, holding him up.
Holding him together.
“My stupid human,” Cass mumbles into his hair, the words fond and affectionate. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe.”
So JJ does. Or he tries to, at least. Tries to breathe past the latent panic and anxiety and fear, past the grief of losing everything he knew in one fell swoop??—
Past the sickening hollowness of realizing he spent twelve years of his life upholding a cause that fell apart the moment he challenged it.
“Sorry,” he repeats uselessly. His voice comes out smaller and hoarser than he intended. “It’s just?—it’s just a lot.”
“I know it’s a lot.” Slowly, Cass starts to sway back and forth, resting his chin on JJ’s shoulder. “But you’re not facing it alone, okay? And you don’t have to face it all right now. One step at a time, Julian.”
That’s the second time Cass has called him “Julian” in the past few minutes. JJ’s heart shivers with it. “Thanks,” he says haltingly, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. “That?—that helps.”
“Of course.” Cass’s voice is soft. “We’re in this together now, yeah? Just?—just tell me what you want, JJ. Tell me what you need.”
“You.” The word tumbles out of JJ immediately, instinctively. In the timeline of his life, there have always been a few points that stand out from the rest: before and after his family was killed, before and after he passed his final exam for the Sanctum??—
Before and after Cassius Chin.
Cass. His cornerstone. The first person he thinks about in the morning and the last person he thinks about when he falls asleep, the one he relies on and trusts more than anyone else??—
The one who makes a deal with someone he barely knows to break JJ out of prison. The one who puts his own life at risk to claw his way through armed hunters.
The one who sees JJ breaking into pieces and tries his hardest to hold him together.
Cass’s breath hitches. For a split second, he goes rigid.
And then, just as quickly, his shoulders relax. “Me and Desi, you mean?”
Despite everything, JJ almost smiles.
Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect. Because if Cass is JJ’s cornerstone, the one who holds up his entire foundation, then Desi is the sun shining brightly above them, lighting up every shadowed corner of his life. “Yeah,” he whispers. “You and Desi. Us. The?—the three of us.”
“I can give you that,” Cass murmurs. “Whenever you’re ready, just say the word and we’ll go back to her, yeah? We’ll go home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere the rest of the world can’t get to us.” His arms tighten. “I promise.”
And right here, right now, in this clearing untouched by civilization with Cass’s arms firm and solid around him, JJ closes his eyes and lets himself believe the words.