"So. You are the famed Jean-Luc Lowell."

Jean focused his attention on a man, or what looked like one, sitting on clawed feet atop the long couch at the far end of the room. His red, spiked tail swayed in the air behind him, and eyes the same color flashed at Jean.

A long black tongue raked over a mouthful of sharp teeth, and the man nodded while scanning Jean's face. "There's an interesting power in you, alright. And, my. Don't you look like you've seen your share of inhuman encounters."

Another male inhuman huffed, "What do you want?" His voice was brusque, and he was visibly annoyed. "Out with it."

"We know why he's here," snapped a woman with a green tint to her skin and tusks. "I say this: Hell no."

"Say you get your way." Another woman sitting beside Celezar was glaring at him. She also had a tail as well as eyes with slanted pupils. She shrugged, lips briefly scrunching. "Then what? What happens to this inhuman who aids you?"

Before Jean could open his mouth to respond, a man hissed, "Does it matter?" He moved slowly, predatorily, to his feet, a soft snake-like hissing emitting from him as he did. "No sane inhuman would so much as consider aiding you fiends."

"Ewil," Majihl said, a clear warning in his voice.

Ignoring him, Ewil's glowing pale blue eyes bore into Jean's as he continued, "You Lowells are better off dead at this point, preferably given a fate like Domien's newest victims."

Jean's jaw locked.

Lips spreading into a knowing smile, Ewil tilted his head to the side. "What I have a problem with, Lowell, is that you don't seem to understand how your reputation precedes you. I know what would happen if one or even two of us decided to help you against the Entity. After all was said and done, once everything returned to the status quo, you would turn on us. That is, after all, the only thing your pathetic souls are known for: killing inhumans indiscriminately, murderously. Unthinkingly. With a wretched prejudice." He scoffed, his face twisting with disgust as he looked Jean over. "You have some fucking nerve sauntering in here asking for help from us."

Several heads nodded around the room before the myriad of eyes fell on Jean.

Ewil wasn't done. "So, to you, Jean-Luc Lowell, I speak for all of us when I say: Rot. Rot in the deepest depths of Inferno. You and your fucked-up ilk aren't welcomed here."

The second after the words left Ewil's mouth, he disappeared from sight, leaving only a gentle breeze and a small wispy strand of blackness behind. Not seconds after, several of the people in the room disappeared as well. Some took others with them, others left independently.

Jean somewhat lowered his gaze while making a soft internal sigh. He wasn't expecting it to be simple.

Too soon, the only inhumans left in the room were the red-eyed one crouched on the couch, a woman who appeared almost entirely human if not for her completely green eyes, and Celezar.

Majihl softly exhaled. "Well, you three?"

Sighing, the red-eyed man stood on the floor and approached. "I'll think about it."

Jean looked up at him in surprise, meeting his gaze.

"I can sense your sincerity. Maybe, just maybe, you will come to appreciate inhumans. But I'm not holding my breath." The man looked back at his two companions. "What about you two?"

"If you go, I'll go," said the woman. Her voice was soft, barely making it across the room so Jean could hear it.

Surprised by this, Jean stood. "Thank you, even if it's only a consideration."

An impassive red glance was given his way. The man then waited for the woman to stand and approach before leaving the room with her.

That left their main person of interest in the room. Celezar sat back against the couch, his arms crossed and a leg draped over the other. His eyes were closed.

Nothing was said for the longest time. Jean wondered curiously what Celezar would say or do, so he waited patiently.

Finally, the hybrid exhaled heavily and gracefully went to his feet. He raised his head to meet Jean's eyes. "Give me one reason why I should go back with you."

"Celezar..." Jean gathered his thoughts. "I...apologize. It has taken some time, but I understand now that you were helping us. You never stopped helping us, even after what we did."

"And? What makes it different now?" Celezar calmly approached with his hands in his pockets, his gait almost lazy, as was his expression. "What changed your mind? The deaths of Will and the others? Or maybe it's that you're backed into a corner and don't know what else to do. Fuck the others. I am your last option, Jean, and you know it."

Jean briefly closed his eyes, shoulders rising and falling. "All of that and more," he softly acknowledged.

Celezar laughed outright, head swaying and his eyes glancing to the wall. "So he admits it." His expression dropped and he passed Majihl to stand directly in front of Jean, looking down at him.

Their gazes locked. Jean couldn't see a shred of the familiar warmth in his mate's eyes, and it sparked an emotion within him he couldn't place.

Lowering his head so they were face-to-face, Celezar cracked a fanged smirk. "Go fuck yourself, Jean."

The words were spat, laced with venom, and Jean's expression hardened. Celezar practically rolled his eyes as he moved from Jean's view, his lip curled with disgust.

When Jean was certain Celezar had left, he exhaled a breath he hadn't known he held in, closing his eyes.

Damn, that was some good acting...

He turned to face Nicholae. His uncle met his eyes and said nothing, but his expression was clear. He understood why Celezar acted the way he did. There was nothing else Jean could read on the older man's face, but he slightly nodded in agreement.

Alister neared. His lips were slightly twisted in empathy. "It could have been worse," he softly reminded.

Jean managed to crack the smallest of smiles.

"If you want my advice..."

Glancing back, he watched Majihl come back into view. He was looking towards the door.

"You should stay for a little while." He turned to face them. His white irises and pupil-less gaze looked upon them with consideration and kindness. "I am certain Gallev will say no, and Joélt will undoubtedly follow him. Celezar, however, is...hurt. Certainly, you understand why."

Nodding, Jean's gaze went towards the door. "I will, if nothing else, continue talking to him. If he allows me to. But I can't stay for long."

Inclining his head, Majihl made a sound of understanding.

He led them out the room to return to the foyer. They followed in contemplative silence. As he walked, Jean considered where this act would go from here on. It was obvious enough that he had to find Celezar again, but he wondered if his mate would make it easy for him to do so. Personally, he hoped so. There wasn't much time to spend playing cat-and-mouse.

Jean excused himself from the group to look for said hybrid. He was told he could freely explore, so long as he remained within the building. He had no intentions to leave, not after the subtle warning he was given from Ewil. Now, if Celezar wasn't inside the building...that would require some aid.

He watched Nicholae walk away with Majihl and Alister, then focused ahead as he turned a corner. There were other people about, indistinguishable as inhuman or human. They gave him curt nods or ignored him completely. Either was fine with him.

Leaving the hall brought him back into the large foyer with the glossy, swirly black staircases. There was another hall similar to the one behind him parallel to it after the small seating space in-between. Said space was once more occupied, and the two people sitting were sporting tails and hooves. That wasn't what caught Jean's attention, however; both inhumans were wearing hunter garb.

His eyes lingered on them for only a moment, then he continued forward. He approached the left staircase and moved quickly to the second floor. Almost immediately, he sensed Celezar near. A small smile spread on his face.

Shortly, he spotted billowing curtains within an open, simple room in Celezar's direction. He tuned to and entered it to see a balcony outside the glass ceiling-high windows. There, on the rail outside, sat Celezar.

Thank Creation it didn't take long to find him. Jean entered the room and steadily approached. "Celezar?"

Auburn hair fluttered in the easy breeze as Celezar turned his head to look at him. His expression, initially empty, came to life with a beaming smile. "Jeanie-boy."

The deep purring of his pet name sent an involuntary shiver through Jean's body. It was noticed, as Celezar slanted his eyes and let his tongue slither from between his lips. Huffing, Jean came closer into an open embrace.

"You had me worried," he admitted. He recalled the expression that had been directed at him, reminded of the last time his mate's face had looked so darkly at him. He met the olive gaze. "I could feel your anger."

Painfully languid, Celezar chuckled. "Had to make it convincing. I guess it worked."

"Yes, but what is the point if other inhumans can hear us talking to each other now?"

Celezar turned to look out at the town. He waved a hand. "Anyone could see us from here, you know—except anyone I don't allow to. But they know what's going on. The act was primarily for Nicholae."

"What?" Jean recalled the other two inhumans. "What about that Ewil person?"

"Ah..." Celezar lowered his hand, his expression drooping. "Yes, well. Ewil was entirely sincere. His sentiments are also shared among some of the others..."

Jean pursed his lips and looked down off the balcony. His expression eased when a kiss was planted on his forehead. "Well, what happens, now?"

"There's plenty I have to show you, so we're not leaving yet, of course." Celezar slipped off the rail. "So, you'll be spending time with me."

Almost letting his eyes roll, Jean chuckled to himself. "Alright. And then what?"

"Then you get something to eat, disappear with me again, and then tell Nicholae in a day or two that you've managed to come to an accord with me."

"Will you show up with me?"

"No, I'll come around later, definitely before you leave to Isle Veni." A thoughtful look appeared on Celezar's face. He then smiled and ducked his head to give Jean a swift but passionate kiss. "Ask where the archive is. I'll meet you there."

"Alright." Jean smiled as his hand was taken and kissed. He knew it was an unsaid apology for worrying him earlier. He then watched his mate wink at him before disappearing in the blink of an eye. He sighed to himself, shaking his head while leaving the room.

Now he had to find Majihl, or Alister. Whomever came first.

Returning to the ground floor, he glanced around for a sign of a familiar face but saw none. The only people around were still ignoring him. A brief peek down the hallway parallel to the hall with the Commons showed more doors with signs above them. He imagined they were offices.

He frowned to himself. He had no idea where to start.

"Oh, Jean. How'd it go?"

He turned to see Alister coming from a room on the other side of the room. He was exiting a hall identical to the one Jean was just looking down. "Ah..." He paused as he considered something. It was possible Alister was also in on the façade. Instead of answering, he slightly tilt his head to the side with a curious expression on his face.

Alister approached in silence. Once he was close enough, he merely smiled in that knowing way of his.

Slanting an eye, Jean sighed, "Right, then. So, where is the archive?"

Chuckling, Alister beckoned him to follow, and he walked back towards the seating area at the far back of the building. Jean followed, watching as his friend turned to the right. He stopped in front of a blank wall, one that Jean was aware had magic hiding a door from sight.

Alister merely opened the door and beckoned down the dimly lit staircase.

"I should have figured," Jean hummed. He nodded before walking in. "Thanks."

"Take your time." Alister once more emitted a soft laugh before closing the door behind Jean as he descended.

The moment Jean's eyes adjusted to the darkness, something came at him swiftly. Before he could react, he was pressed back against the door with a tongue slithering into his mouth. He grunted, then groaned when a knee kept his legs spread open. "C-Celezar..."

"Mm hmm?" The olive eyes shone in the dim light.

"Damn you," he breathed as he was given a chance to. That only allowed the tongue to lick down his neck.

"Aw." Celezar slightly moved away but kept him pressed on the door. "Anyway, my dear love, I've something to show you."

"Uh huh..." Jean muttered to himself. He scoffed softly at the amused chuckle given to him. His hand was taken and he was led down the winding staircase.

As they descended, the light gradually disappeared. Shortly after the last of the dim lights were snuffed out by blackness, light roared to life before Celezar from a floating flame. Jean wasn't completely surprised, as he would have done something similar. He was, however, unaware Celezar could also use magic. He should have expected as much.

When they touched the ground, the fire spread into smaller flames that went to and lit the wicks of many candles in the immediate area. The light revealed a vast underground archive of handwritten books and papers. Most were on shelves, dusted over and discolored from age.

Despite it, they were all considerably organized; it wasn't the mess Jean half-heartedly expected to see. Stacks of papers were arranged in piles, dated by large stone paperweights with numbers etched into them. Books were lined with their spines on display, showing dates reading downward.

Celezar moved to a particular shelf within past the radius of the light. From what little Jean could see, the shelf had a lock on it. Celezar had some books in his hands before Jean could figure out how they ended up there. He passed his mate a strange look as he came over.

An incredulous, innocent one was returned to him. Celezar then softly laughed, placing the papers and books atop one of a handful of old wooden tables. "Now, love, this is what I've wanted to show you since we were at the Memorraw."

"What are they?" Jean briefly looked over them. The answer was given to him when he caught the name Lowell more than once. "Wait...Are these...?"

"Yes. They are journals and articles related to an...interesting side of your family you are unaware of." Celezar's expression slightly brightened. "I think you'll find it insightful."

Jean blinked at this statement. "What does that—?"

Celezar kissed his lips. "Just trust me."

Not unaware his mate was more amorous than he had been in a while, Jean slightly smiled. He sat at the table and rolled up his sleeves.

"Oh, and there's also this."

He looked at Celezar in time to see a large, deep blue tome appear in his hand. He held it reverently, sliding his free hand down its cover, then handed it to Jean.

Jean's eyes widened as he handled it. It was a heavy, thick book, its cover and make elaborate with real silver as corner covers and along the binding. A shockingly familiar silver emblem was embroidered onto its cover, the symbol of the Lowell family crest. His mouth opened, but he didn't speak right away. Beneath the motif was silver writing, but the text was not an ancient dialect of English, Greek, German, or any other typical language expected to be from an ancient book belonging to his family. Instead, he barely recognized the text as the same language used for spells his family used in current time.

"What is this?" he asked. "And how did you get it?"

Celezar smiled slyly. "A grimoire. Your family's grimoire. The 'how' is a very long story."

His eyes grew larger, but then Jean realized that couldn't be. "My family's grimoire is on Isle Veni, in the archive."

"This is the entirety of your family's grimoire—up until the past fifty years, anyway." Celezar motioned to it. "It also contains the other half of what you have now."

"Other half?" Jean didn't even let that settle in his mind before demanding, "Explain."

Celezar pulled a chair over from another table to sit beside him. "It's another long story, but for now, I'll just say this much. Roughly 200 years ago, inhumans were known to every human being. They were as normal as an ordinary person on the street. Your ancestor, Alan Lowell, was friends with many. They taught him many things, as did other, more powerful magic-users. Contained in this grimoire are spells that can help to not defeat the Entity but make it go away, at the very least."

That didn't answer Jean's questions, but he let it slide for the moment. "And is the whole book in this language?"

Celezar shrugged. "I don't know. I can't open it."

Eyes wide, Jean looked up at his mate, who merely shrugged again as if this was nothing spectacular.

"It's protected by powerful magic. It fights me when I try to open it, and I'd rather not risk destroying it."

The book had a lock that wasn't made for a key, or at the very least, not a typical key. It was a circular opening that lacked any embellishments other than having a belt-like appearance for a clasp. "Where is the key?"

"Your blood is the key." Celezar handed two smaller but still thick books to him that had also appeared out of nowhere. "Read these books, too. They're important family history for you."

Frowning, Jean blinked at them but placed the grimoire in his lap before taking the books. He opened the one with an old numeral for '1' on it and flipped through. It was all handwritten text, written in an old English dialect. Being an inhuman hunter, he could read this much. For a few minutes, he flipped through the pages, getting a feel of what it was about.

His eyes couldn't get any wider. "This is...my ancestor Alan's original journal. The copies we have back home are just that, copies. But this...!" He opened the other one and flipped through it. "Another one. How did you...?"

"There was this old archive your family once had before the Lowells split in two."

This time, Jean's head snapped up to look Celezar in the eye. "Split in two?" he repeated in disbelief.

Pursing his lips, Celezar slowly nodded. "Yes. Read, love. You'll learn everything of the matter."

Looking back down at the books, Jean shook his head. "How am I going to explain this to my family?"

Celezar's expression darkened. "You won't. You can't. They're not ready for the information that lies within these books. You are. Only you can read these."

Brows furrowing, Jean considered. If his ancestor worked with inhumans, perhaps his journals mentioned much of that.

Aware of what he was thinking, Celezar nodded. "The first one is by Alan. The second one has multiple entries from later descendants. Those have the more controversial entries."

Taking the books and stacking them, Jean considered placing them in his luggage later. Thank goodness he traveled light. "Alright. Thank you."

His eyes slanting, Celezar rubbed their heads together. "My pleasure," he rumbled.

Parroting his expression, Jean hummed. "You've been in a nice mood..."

"Well," his mate exhaled, "I worried you. I don't want you to fear me hating you..."

"I don't..." Jean went silent.

The expression given to him earlier, the darkened gaze lacking any and all affection from a face he loved, came to mind once more. There was something bothering him.

Gently, he took Celezar's head and nuzzled his nose. His eyes closed, and he softly, somberly, sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, love?" Celezar replied, evident confusion in his tone.

A warm hand caressed Jean's cheek, making his lips tighten. "I...I hurt you, didn't I? In Augusus."

The hand stopped, then slowly lowered. Silence lingered between them, and he slanted his eyes open to see Celezar wasn't looking at him.

He nodded a bit. "I did. And I'm sorry...so sorry for what I did," he whispered. "I lashed out. I was scared."

Briefly, Celezar closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was looking at him again. "I know, love." He returned the soft nuzzling, his voice lowering. "My dear love..."

Managing a smile, Jean let his eyes close once more.

He was thankful for Celezar, proud of himself. Thankful, because he knew in his heart that Celezar was sincere. No amount of inhuman influence or human proselytizing could convince him otherwise. That was also what had scared him. Proud, because he was brave enough to follow his instincts. His heart.

The low rumbling from his mate grew in intensity. A knowing little smile spread on his face, and he opened his eyes again to see his mate looking at him with the same shrewdness in darkening orbs.

"So," the hybrid murmured, lowering his hand to take Jean by his chin, "how are we going to do this, I wonder? If I fuck you on the floor, your clothes get dusty. If I fuck you on the wall, your clothes get dusty...and we might break or ruin something important in here."

As his mate spoke, heat was beginning to grow within Jean's body, melty heat from budding arousal. Each syllable coming out of Celezar's mouth was as if the offer of sex was dangled teasingly before him.

Tilting his head to the side, Celezar continued, "Hm, well. I suppose we might not be able to enjoy each other in here, then. Unless..." His eyes were completely swallowed up by black, but then they quickly bled back to greenish-black. He composed himself from some heightened emotion, and Jean noticed it. "Unless, perhaps, we do it—" His jaw locked as his eyes blackened again.

The anticipation was killing Jean. He quickly stood up, pushing his chair back, and took Celezar by his shirt to pull him into a kiss.

He felt Celezar's form change, and Jean was suddenly lifted, breaking the kiss. When he opened his eyes, he saw Celezar in his smaller inhuman form, though large black tentacles were emerging from the ground. One was around his waist, and it lifted him high enough that he could somewhat look Celezar in the eye. As the featureless, blackened orbs stared at him, smaller tendrils from Celezar's back unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. Breathing deeply, he watched the tentacles move him so he was on his back, and they held him in a suspended position. Smaller ones then unbuckled his pants, but they didn't lower them. Curious and needy, Jean bit his lower lip, grasping at a tentacle that curled around his hand. His legs were spread, and they, too, were held by tentacles, caressing him from his ankles to his thighs.

All the while, the dark eyes continued to stare at him, unblinking and intense.

Desire grew stronger within Jean from the stare alone, and his patience was already at a shockingly low, burning wick. Just when he was about to say something, a thick tendril moved to his mouth. Willingly, he let it in, and he coated it in his saliva, lathering it desperately. A strange taste was on his tongue, but it wasn't unpleasant.

Dripping with saliva and the strange secretions, the tendril moved out of his mouth and lowered before disappearing behind him. Something wet and slippery tickled his backside, then slithered into his pants, and he jolted. The movement only succeeded in pushing the tendril into him, and he tensed from the feeling before easing, his lips parting. Emitting a breathy sigh, he bucked his hips, pushing the tendril in deeper and deeper, and then he groaned when it tickled his insides, licking everything but his sweet spot.

The dark eyes continued to stare.

He gasped loudly, bucking hard when his prostate was nailed, at last. But after that, it didn't let up, hitting it over and over, and it was so unexpected, he could do little more than stare off, his mouth open as his breathing increased. His hips slightly bucked, and he stared at his erection, bobbing unattended before him, while emitting stifled grunts.

Smaller tendrils then moved over his cock, caressing it, teasing the tip. He bucked into a thick curl, exhaling deeply when it satisfied the desire that had been unmet. He then cried out when a small but still rather thick tendril slithered into his urethra. He shuddered, eyes fluttering, and saliva began to drip from the corner of his mouth, as he orgasmed. It wracked through him, but he was still, his body locked up and tingles running down his spine.

He came again when his prostate was nailed by the smaller tendril, and his eyes rolled back. Another thick tendril then slithered into his open mouth, caressing his insides before slowly moving down his throat. Somehow, this only urged his arousal back with a vengeance. His body rocked from the tendril's powerful thrusts, and his head was limp. He was too gone to the pleasure.

His breathing increased as he neared another spike, and he groaned loudly around the tendril down his throat when he came. The tendril down his cock pulled out, and he locked up violently as he ejaculated into it. He felt the gush of heat within him and the flood in his stomach from the tendrils as his mate also ejaculated.

His whole body went limp, shivering with the tide of his high. He stared off hazily between his eyelids, barely noticing he was being lowered by the tentacles and that the natural candlelight was returning to the archive.

What he did realize was when he was cradled in a warm embrace, looking up into Celezar's amorous, green-eyed smile.