Leaving the barracks, Jean was led by Will back out into the hall and into what seemed like a random direction. As Basker weaved around their legs, Will lowered to pet him.

"Never saw you as the Saluki type," he commented.

Jean's lips twitched. "He's a rescue dog, I suppose. He was in a police force that became infested with parasites. If they found some reason to have him, I feel he'll work well for us. He just needs training."

Will looked forward again, his expression contemplative. "Interesting. He might be one-of-a kind; that's always a good find." He shook his head and punched Jean's shoulder. "In any case, man. I haven't seen you in almost a year. Almost a year, and next I see you, you're sporting scars given by an infiltrator. Whatever happened to that bastard Celezar?"

With surprising ease, Jean responded, "I've no idea. None of us do. He saved my life and several of my men's lives, then disappeared. Haven't seen him since."

"That's damn uncanny." Will lowered his arm and glanced around. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it? What other inhumans might be lurking about?"

"I...truthfully try not to think about it. My group has had enough trouble since this increase in Infernal activity."

"Understandable."

Jean glanced at Basker, who was obedient and stayed close to his side. He found it incredible that he could now talk so easily about these topics. About Celezar, about Hobboilen and Domien. At least in the moment.

"Speaking of which, I don't suppose you have any idea what Celezar is, eh?"

"None. Not him nor the tall creature from Ridridge."

They walked towards an open area looking out from the side of the mountain. The tall rail prevented anyone from falling off, and Jean moved to lean against the near wall while Will placed his hands on the rail and leaned forward. The mass of buildings of the nearby city was clearly visible in the early light.

A short silence stretched between them, then Will glanced at him. "You really saw a devil?"

"Undoubtedly." Jean's eyes narrowed. He glanced off towards the city. "What other Infernal has hooves but a devil? A spaded tail?"

"True, that." Will made a small shudder. "I'm glad you didn't lose anyone or your own life."

Looking to the floor, Jean spotted Basker sniffing around out the corner of his eye. "Much as I hate to say it...we have Celezar to thank for that..."

Will scoffed but said nothing else.

Changing the conversation, Jean said, "I've to look for a new member to replace him. Been thinking I should give Tuomas a visit."

Moving off the rail, Will gave an understanding but somber nod. "Likewise."

Jean watched after his friend as Will moved back into the hall. A twinge of dread grew within him. Will must have lost a member of his group, but Jean didn't say anything. Perhaps not yet. Wordlessly, he followed Will on foot.

They reached a parallel entrance to a lounge area that looked somewhat similar to the barracks. It was even complete with its own operator's desk.

Upon entering the space, memories hit Jean of the last time he was in this particular area of the Memorraw. It was a barracks but for wandering hunters who went without their own permanent groups and temporarily resided in other outposts. Several hunters were about, resting in chairs, conversing, and moving to and fro.

This is where Jean met Celezar six years ago. His gaze drifted to the currently unoccupied corner where he could still see the lazing form leaning back in a chair in his mind. A wide-brimmed hat hid his face from view, and Jean remembered what it was like to finally see that face for the first time. Large gem-green eyes. Freckled face. Lopsided smile that said so little but knew so much...

"Jean!"

Looking to his right, he spotted an older man approaching him with a large smile. Further behind the man was Artie who wore a small smile of his own.

"Tuomas." Jean shook the man's hand. "How's life treating you?"

Scanning Jean's face, Tuomas winced. "I should be asking you that. First Augusus, then Ridridge...Something has it out for you, my friend. I'm sincerely sorry for what happened with Celezar." Before anything could be said, his shoulders rose and fell in a sad shrug. "But I know there was no way I would have known he was inhuman."

"Precisely why I still trust your advice," Jean assured, then beckoned to the space. "So, who can you recommend for me this time?"

Tuomas nodded at Will, who returned it before moving on to look around. Tuomas then nudged his head towards Artie. "I was just telling Artie about my number one suggestion. I think you'll like him." He motioned for them to follow him down a short hall leading into a larger seating space sparsely occupied. "He's an older fellow, well-traveled and definitely knows his stuff."

"A veteran?" Artie asked in surprise.

"Yes, actually."

"What's he doing without a group?" asked Jean.

They neared a man standing in front of a bookshelf, his head lowered as he read. He wore a long black coat with green decorations on it and visible riding boots underneath leather pants.

Tuomas smiled. "You can ask him, yourself." To the man, he called, "Sarkis!"

Turning, the man closed his book. His sharp eyes took all four of them in. "Tuomas," he greeted, replacing the book on the shelf.

"Sarkis, you remember me telling you about the Lowell Hunters." Tuomas held a hand towards Jean. "This is their leader, Jean-Luc Lowell."

Both hunters nodded at one another. "Tuomas tells me you're a veteran," Jean said, getting right to the point. "What is a veteran hunter doing as a wanderer?"

A small understanding smile spread on Sarkis' face. He slightly tilted his head side to side. "I am a nomadic hunter. That is, I used to be. I migrated from Ērān where I began my time as a hunter with the Armanjani Hunters. After over a decade, I've come to the decision I wish to settle into a group again."

"Interesting. Not many true nomadic hunters, nowadays." Jean nodded at Tuomas, who gave a smile before leaving. Jean then beckoned to a nearby table with just enough chairs for all of them. Wordlessly, they moved to sit down, and Basker obediently followed. Once settled, Jean knitted his fingers together. "Tell me more about the Armanjani Hunters."

"They're a fairly new group, maybe sixty years old, but have a good reputation. They reside mainly in the northwestern region and share territory with Hayk’."

"What brought you here?"

Sarkis' eyelids slightly twitched as he stared forward, as if recalling something possibly unpleasant. After a second, he focused back on Jean. "Qadir, their leader, was killed..." He glanced away, pain overtaking his features. "Rather brutally. Long story short, nearly everyone blamed themselves for his death, including myself. I left as a sort of...penance. Looking back, I probably shouldn't have. They're doing much better, now."

Jean slowly nodded. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Nothing but stability...and camaraderie."

"What are you most proficient in?"

Sarkis lifted his hand, revealing small black orbs with white symbols on them between his fingers. "Explosives. I'm also familiar with alchemy and use different concoctions for my bombs."

Without even looking, Jean knew Artie was impressed by this. He surely was.

"I also prefer close-quarter combat, when I can, and am proficient with guns."

"Do you have any stances on inhumans?" Jean's gaze didn't falter, staring directly at the other man. "We are not fond of inhumans. We kill them indiscriminately along with anyone who allows themselves to be swayed by them."

"Ah..." Sarkis glanced away, as if in thought.

Jean carefully watched the expressions that flitted across his face. The hazel-green eyes grew hard, and Jean knew what the answer would be.

Returning to look Jean in the eye, Sarkis made a dark smile. "I am not fond of inhumans, either."

Raising a brow, Jean scanned the man's face again. Such a simple answer was offset by his expression and his smile. It did not bode well for any inhuman who crossed his path, and Jean had an inkling from the unusually large scimitar he had dangling from his belt that the man was a brutal fighter.

While nodding with appreciation, Jean asked, "Anything you think I should know? Possible handicaps, comments...?"

"None."

Glancing at the table, Jean considered this opportunity. A veteran was a rare find. He felt Artie's expectant eyes on him, and he idly rubbed his thumbs together. It would be foolish not to jump at an opportunity like this. He looked up with a nod. "You are welcome with us."

A softer smile formed on Sarkis' face. "I know of the brutal Lowell Hunters. I believe we will get along well."

"Good," said Artie. He appeared to be completely satisfied.

"What is the layout?"

"Weekly pay, boarding in the barracks, three fresh meals a day...and fourteen comrades," Jean replied with a small lopsided smile.

Inclining his head with appreciation, Sarkis saluted.

Jean readied to stand. "We leave after the meeting."

"Yes, sir."

He stopped, staring off as he recalled the last time those words were spoken to him when he was at the Memorraw. "Not 'sir'," he said automatically. Like the arrangements, he was so accustomed to saying this. "Anything but 'sir' or my last name. Jean is also fine."

Sarkis blinked but nodded. "Understood."

Standing, Jean turned and pushed his chair in, then returned to the hall with Basker and Artie behind him. He stopped once he entered, softly exhaling.

"I like him," said Artie. He was smiling contentedly, his arms crossed. "He'll fit right in. Father, Butch, Hugh...They'll like him, too."

"Absolutely," Jean said absentmindedly. Giving his head a slight shake, he looked back, watching Will near them. "What will you do for the rest of the day?" he asked his cousin.

"Not sure. I had a feeling you would want to get this out of the way, so I came here."

Humming softly, Jean looked off at nothing in particular. "It was good to get this out the way..."

There was a brief silence, then Artie patted his shoulder. "Take it easy, cousin. Isn't that why we came early?" He began to walk away.

"Amongst other reasons," Jean agreed under his breath. The moment his cousin left, Will stood beside him.

"That was fast." Will motioned towards the other area with his head. "Chose that veteran?"

"Yes."

"Lucky catch. I'm looking for someone, too."

"Who was it?" Jean asked, his tone considerate. It was always hard to lose a fellow hunter. "It wasn't—"

"No, it wasn't Hauser, and you'd know if it was Tori," Will assured. He softly huffed, slipping his hands into his pockets, and glanced away. "It was Claude."

Jean closed his eyes, recalling a rather jovial young man. "Fuck...He was so young."

"Yeah. This damn outbreak is weighing on all of us."

"My condolences, Will." Jean placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Is everyone else alright?"

"They're fine." Will looked at him. He slightly shrugged. "Sporting new scars and prosthetics, but alive, otherwise..."

Eyes tightening, Jean's hand slid down. If it weren't for Celezar, more than a quarter of his men would have died already, including himself. His head slightly lowered as the realization somewhat dawned on him. Again.

He was suddenly nudged and looked into his friend's eyes. "As always, you can be a sensitive one, Jean," Will teased with a growing smile.

Shoving him, Jean scoffed. "Who wouldn't be?"

Holding up his hands, Will chuckled, "It's alright, it's a secret. Still, nothing to be ashamed of."

Blinking, Jean's brows furrowed. "The hell does that mean, man?"

Will nudged him again, harder, this time. He started walking away. "Figure it out. See you at the meeting!" He saluted.

Looking after him, Jean slightly tilted his head to the side with narrowed eyes. "Fucking William..." he muttered. After a moment, a small smile formed on his lips, and he shook his head.

Sudden pawing at his feet brought his attention to Basker. Green eyes looked up at him.

"Well, you've been good and patient..." He beckoned the dog to him as he walked towards the elevator. "What say we go to the city and roam a bit?"

The dog's tail wagged eagerly as he followed.

After arriving at the ground floor, Jean was greeted with the sight of open land from a large half-oval entrance further ahead. He caught the smell of horses and neared the stables to borrow one. Basker was much more excited upon seeing the greenery and Jean rode ahead, whistling for Basker to follow.

The open stretch of rolling land was enthralling to see in the early morning light. He couldn't hide the smile on his face if he wanted to as he rode the horse in a gallop across the open field. Basker, tongue hanging out and running around excitedly, seemed just as happy. The wind in their hair, the fresh, warm breeze of a spring day; it was idyllic and energizing.

Observing the dog run happily around, side-by-side with the horse or back and forth, Jean shook his head in private disbelief. If he didn't know the dog was Celezar in disguise, he would have been completely convinced he was an ordinary animal.

In the distance, other horse riders were visible, returning from the city or also taking advantage of the open land. From their distance, Jean couldn't tell who they were but didn't bother.

A distant bark brought him out of his observation. Basker was much further away, looking down at something in the ground. A rabbit hole, possibly. Bringing the horse into a light trot, Jean gradually approached. "Bask, stop torturing the rabbits."

Basker bounded away and ran off again. Jean whistled, and the dog stopped to look back at him. Turning toward the city in the distance, Jean beckoned his head for the dog to follow. He then brought the horse into a canter. Eventually, Basker ran past at high speed. Watching after him, Jean merely gave his head another shake.

Eventually, the land gave away to a lightly paved road, and Jean slowed the horse into a trot. He nodded at some other riders who were also hunters as they passed him by. The first indicator of their entering the city was the arches displaying the sign of the city's name, Bremen. There was a stable beside an inn, and he left the horse there for a small fee. He was looking forward to going around on foot.

It was then he noticed Basker was missing but didn't think too much of it. He did glance around for the multicolored Saluki yet saw nothing more than the somewhat empty roads and passing vehicles. Placing his hands in the pockets of his pants, he continued forward.

He initially stayed to the outskirts of the city where homes, some restaurants and small shops dotted streets. The shops and restaurants were experiencing their first wave of customers. As it was springtime, he knew shops would be selling spring fruits and produce, especially once he neared the center of the city. He considered taking the time to try some later.

As he neared the central districts, he observed his surroundings. He never understood cities. Why would one build a five-story building? In the downtowns of cities, they were everywhere, nearly every other block. He preferred towns with their lightly paved roads, three-story buildings, and charm. Better yet, in villages, there was dirt and grass everywhere. Most villages liked to build atop grass, and some towns purposely grew grass to replenish what was lost by the rare traffic.

Cities were harder and not as colorful. The pavement was sturdier, oil-based, to make up for the heavy traffic. He glanced down at his boots, listening to the sound as they hit the concrete. It wasn't good for hunting. It was hard to sneak, sometimes difficult to navigate, whereas in a village and some towns, all one had to do was jump atop a low building to fix one's bearings.

"Jean."

He glanced up and to his right. Standing across the way and leaning against a wall was Celezar, flashing a cheeky smile. Like the previous times, he wore his old hunting gear, though since the woods, Jean came to realize it was all superficial. Since Celezar didn't have his swords or gun with him, Jean considered those were real.

Jean's heart lightly fluttered upon seeing him with what he resignedly admitted was happiness. His lips quirked. Letting the hybrid approach, he glanced around and lowered his hands. The few people that were about were unfamiliar, but that didn't ease his anxiety. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Aw, don't you trust me, Jeanie-boy?" Celezar sauntered beside him, then tilted his head exaggeratedly to the side. "I know what I'm doing."

Jean exhaled, then focused on Celezar when the hybrid stood in front of him. He looked up into his eyes, which twinkled with mischief, and parted his lips as he was kissed. The possible danger of their situation made it feel unusually exciting, and he had a feeling that was Celezar's intention.

"You're a devil," he murmured.

"That I am, love." Celezar chuckled, lowering a hand to entwine it with Jean's and lead him through the city.

As they walked, Jean slowly began to relax. Being around Celezar did that to him. He wasn't sure if it was intensified by Celezar's encompassing presence, his promise to keep him safe or because he merely trusted his partner, but it was comforting regardless.

After a few minutes of what initially seemed like aimless walking, he moved to Celezar's side instead of letting the hybrid pull him along. He recalled moments like this in the past, the rare times when they would both manage to get to the mainland and be together. Somehow, during those times, it was always incredible how they managed to do the things they did and not get caught. He knew now it was possible because Celezar was looking out for him.

He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to lean against his partner. This. This was one of the things that always bothered him. Despite what the world thought, his family would consider him too feminine, if they truly knew about him. He was too weak, too feminine, too—

"Love, your thoughts are worrying me."

Blinking his eyes open, Jean cut them to the side to look at his partner. "I told you not to—"

"I'm not reading your thoughts." Celezar glanced at him. "I can sense it. You're berating yourself for something, something that probably isn't true or...well, I suppose it will take some time, if your thoughts are about that..."

Closing his mouth, Jean looked forward. Celezar was leading him to a park. He then muttered, "Why do you want to read my thoughts?"

Celezar squeezed his hand before looking off. "Many reasons. I want to be as close to you as possible, for one; it's an inhuman sort of thing. That's the mahre in me, I suppose. You could always block me out whenever you wanted. I'll respect that."

They received a few looks as they entered the park. It had hills and a few trees, pathways for walking and a nearby woods. Early morning walkers were about, and everyone gave them a considerable leeway.

Stares were the norm for hunters of any sort. Jean didn't really take notice, looking past the people as he contemplated. "I'll think about it."

"Alright..." Celezar paused. "But may I know what's on your mind, then?" His voice was tentative.

Cracking a small smile, Jean softly exhaled. This was going to be interesting. He didn't immediately answer, taking his time to observe their surroundings. There was a pond nearby. This time, he led the way to it. Celezar easily followed, and they stood before it, looking off to see what was on the other side.

He briefly closed his eyes. "For one, what do you think about Sarkis?"

"Oh." Celezar ran a hand through his hair. Some reddish locks tumbled back over his face. "He's...fine. Tuomas is good at what he does...but I'm afraid you are both in for yet another shocker..."

Jean's brows tightened as he braced himself. "What do you mean?"

"He's inhuman."

Staring forward, Jean's eye twitched. Not again.

"But he's legitimate. He hates inhumans to his core. The man has a head on his shoulders and is world-savvy. He has experience that none of the other men have, not even Nicholae."

Slowly, Jean deeply exhaled. He let go of Celezar's hand to rub his forehead with both. "Fine. Fine," he muttered. There was nothing he could do about it. "What is he?"

"He's a descendant of a Daeva."

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." Jean ran his hands down his face. "There are too many Infernals about."

Celezar slightly nodded. "Well...yes. They are one of the most prominent inhumans aside from fey, really."

"But he isn't a threat?"

"Not at all. He's only known a human life and his adoptive parents were killed by his biological family. Having him will be a great boon."

Huffing, Jean shook his head, but relented. He remained silent for a moment, taking everything in. This would be the second time his trip to the Memorraw brought an inhuman into his group. But, by the sound of it, it would again work in his favor. That didn't make anything easier.

He then focused on the second thing he wanted to talk about. Once he calmed down from the revelation, he said, "I'm thinking of Goshe. What does it mean to become inhuman? I've encountered many people so willing to lose their humanity, and I never understood it."

"Ah..." Celezar placed his hands on his hips. "Well, there's no simple answer, love. People become inhuman for many reasons: power, love, corruption, freedom."

"People who do it for love, then." Jean deliberately kept his gaze forward.

"That is fairly simple. For some breeds like mine, the only way to fully be with an inhuman lover is to become inhuman as well. It is a sign of trust, dedication; a true sign of love. Most to all inhumans understand what it is their future mates are giving up to be with them." Out the corner of his eye, Jean saw Celezar hook his thumbs on his pockets. "In those cases, there's really no difference from being human, more often than not.

"Take...for example, my sister-in-law. She became inhuman after mating with my brother. She still lives a perfectly human life, the only difference is that she's not human, anymore. She still prays, still eats the same foods—except when she's pregnant, but that's another topic—and still interacts with the same people. No one is wise to her inhumanity."

Jean raised a brow. "What about natural-born inhumans? What is it to be inhuman?" He saw Celezar scratch the back of his head and noticeably slump.

"That's...a tricky question. What does it mean to be a born inhuman? It means many things for different creatures. For me, it means the ability to do whatever I want, really, within very limited...well, limits. Absolute freedom. Boredom. Loneliness. Lack of major troubles." He made a minute, sad hum. "I've eaten humans. It's just natural, like how humans eat animal meat."

Jean shifted but didn't say anything.

Celezar moved just slightly away. "There are inhumans who have sworn off on directly attacking humans, getting their necessary nutrition in other ways. There are vampires who drink donated blood, for instance."

At the mention of vampires, Jean's expression slightly darkened.

Celezar obviously noticed this, quickly changing the subject. "You wouldn't be anything like that if you become inhuman. You would be extremely human, as far as appetite goes, if not just with a greater one. You'll probably be like my sister-in-law. You do want to remain a hunter, right?"

"Yes."

"There you go. There is a plethora of inhumans that are hunters as well. Take Sarkis...and me, for instance."

Jean glanced at him, then stared forward again. Silence ensued between them, and Jean could almost sense how it was making Celezar nervous, if he weren't already so. Clearly, he was uncomfortable to be talking about inhumans as one himself.

Morning was peaking, and the light of the sun began to beat upon the land below. Jean turned to the sunrise, then walked wordlessly to the top of a nearby hill beside the underpass of a bridge. Celezar followed, and both hunters stood atop the hill overlooking the park.

Jean squinted from the bright light. "I don't like vampires." When there wasn't a response, he continued, "I never did tell you about what happened seven years ago before you joined."

"No." Celezar softly cleared his throat. "But Nicholae told me. I think that vampiric creature you all came upon was a nosferatu, which are vampiric hallows. Rather, they are the 'true' vampires. The lesser, more common ones are derivatives of demonic influence."

That explained things. "I reckon it was equivalent to an upper-A-Class Infernal, but that doesn't sound right..."

"Because it isn't right. The class system you are familiar with is wrong. There are six classes of Infernals."

Eye widening, Jean's head snapped into Celezar's direction.

"The classes are E, D, C, B, A, and S. The three you call C, B and A are actually E, D and C, the weakest classes." As he caught Jean's expression of horror, Celezar managed a small, apologetic smile. "I am an S-Class Infernal through my devil blood. The Entity surpasses the classes, however. There is none to classify it by."

Massaging his forehead, Jean closed his eyes. Much as he hated to admit it, the discrepancy in the classes explained much of the recent problems. That didn't make it any easier to take in.

Abruptly, Celezar pulled him to the side, taking him by his hand and bringing him off the hill until they were safely hidden underneath the bridge. At first, Jean was going to ask what was wrong, then he figured someone he knew was nearby. His partner stood in front of him, seeming to be protecting him from familiar eyes as he looked up. Jean idly wondered if he could see the people walking overhead.

The tunnel was still darkened despite the sun. The trees provided just enough shade to darken the area around them, giving them a private moment, if only for a short while. Jean did nothing until Celezar was no longer stiff, then looked up at the hybrid's face. Something came to his attention, something he meant to address a while ago.

He stared, then looked into green eyes when Celezar turned his head to look down at him. "Celezar, are you alright?"

The hybrid raised a brow, which was just barely visible. "What do you mean, love?"

"I recall you looking rather sickly after the encounter with the Entity."

"Ah, yes. I'm fine..." Celezar went back to his sentry.

Jean narrowed an eye. He knew what he saw. "I don't believe you."

Celezar sighed, turning to gaze at him. He slowly reached up to take Jean by his chin, scanning his face with a pouty smile. "That hurts."

"You'll live."

"I will live. Didn't I say I'd protect you?" Celezar's smile lingered, but only for a while.

Watching, Jean braced himself.

Frowning, Celezar moved his other hand to feel at Jean's neck, over the scar there, and then massaged it gently. "I damaged your throat. I blinded you," he said with a soft, self-deprecating growl. "I say I want to protect you, yet I hurt you most."

Jean's brows furrowed. "I'm alive. I'm whole. I would've died if you hadn't risked your identity to save me. So, thank you."

"But I hurt you."

"I'm not angry about my eye."

"I can heal it, you know. You won't be blind anymore."

Blinking, Jean didn't initially know how to respond to that. He made peace with the fact that he was handicapped for life. To know his full vision could return was...jarring.

Then he realized something. He softly exhaled, shaking his head. "No, Zarryel. Thank you, but I cannot. What sort of story could I come up with?"

His expression worsening, Celezar took his hand back to gaze upon both. Before Jean's eyes, his nails turned black before becoming claws. "I...know what you're giving up and risking being with me. I can't imagine how much strife this has caused you...and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything." He clenched his jaw to angrily speak through his teeth, "I wish there was some way I could become human, or some way I could lessen your pain—"

"Enough of that." Jean's eyes went wide. "Where is this coming from? I made my decision and that is so. I just...need some time before I take the plunge."

Olive eyes looked into his, glassy with tears. What little light there was underneath the bridge made them shine even more. In that look alone, Jean could discern so much. His words struck a chord, astounding his partner with the knowledge he would be willing to give up his humanity for him.

Taking Jean's hands into his clawed ones, Celezar kissed them, then kissed the scarred, blind eye. His expression completely softening, Jean gently rubbed his head against his partner's and closed his eyes. He thought back on the previous hunt and knew what his fate could be. But in the moment, he wasn't thinking about that.

He inhaled the fragrant, familiar scent: earth and herbs. The awareness of who he was with—the smell, the warmth, the presence that now seemed to envelop him protectively; it was all Celezar. It all meant so much, now.

It meant everything.