The Complex

Blue was just entering the sky the next early morning, and Jean was already awake. Having awoken at the ripe time of five thirty-five, he entered the mess hall of the outpost to see a larger amount of people than there were yesterday. Evidently, a plethora of groups had arrived the night before or even a few hours prior.

The line for breakfast moved surprisingly fast, to Jean's continuous wonder. It wasn't because the others in line chose their meals quickly so much as it was because the outpost had an incredible amount of people serving. The outpost was famous for its size and efficient operation. It wasn't long before he stood at the sneeze guards and directly inhaling various breakfast foods.

Having eyed the food at a distance, he chose the familiar foods of waffles and jam, white sausages, and focaccia-like bread stuffed with ground beef. He was never one for pastries or cheese, skipping those entirely, and chose a sweet, freshly made fruit and vegetable smoothie that reminded him of the ones Celezar made at home. With a full tray, he moved from the steam tables and his gaze swept around the canteen.

Before he even looked for them, he sensed several inhumans there, the largest amount he had sensed in the past five years. Many of them were in small groups, eating together or with a few choice human companions. Jean didn't see anyone in particular who he wished to sit with, so he moved to the end of a long table that was occupied on much of the other side. He said a soft prayer, then began to eat.

While doing so, he observed the interactions of his fellow hunters.

For the first time he could recall, he spotted inhumans with visible inhuman traits. They either didn't have fully human forms or didn't care to hide their inhumanity. He saw some with long, pointed and curled ears, tails of all sorts that ranged from demonic to animalistic, flashes of colors from unusual eyes and hair colors and textures, and even some horns, though they were all rather small and unintimidating; that was intentional, he was certain. Lastly some had different textured skin and nothing more.

It was fascinating to see. Because of his children's powerful blood, they could maintain perfect human forms. Despite this, they were born with noticeable inhuman traits because of said blood such as tentacles and different colored eyes. Through observation and feathering at presences with his senses, he understood there were more part-inhumans present than pureblood ones.

When he first noticed the overwhelming inhumans that were present several meetings ago, it came as a complete shock. So many of the hunters whose faces he knew at a distance weren't human at all.

He glanced over towards two hunters who entered the mess hall. It was Rowan, leader of the Savage Hunters, someone who was long believed to be inhuman. Now that he had the ability to know the truth, it came as somewhat of a surprise to Jean to know the younger hunter wasn't inhuman in the slightest. Some members of their group were, however.

The one who hovered around them, their second-in-command and the person famously known to be protective of them, was one such creature. Jean eyed the tall, intimidating form walking at Rowan's lower side. Inhumans seemed to prefer larger human forms, something he wondered was a subconscious if not entirely conscious superiority complex.

Artie sat across from him. Instead of addressing him, Jean returned his gaze to his food.

"I swear, the amount of inhuman-born hunters grows every time we come here," his cousin griped.

He only nodded.

"Fucking hell. I daresay there are Infernals here. Infernals."

Again, he didn't respond.

Artie grumbled, muttering something to himself. He then said a prayer before eating. And he grumbled.

Jean softly sighed, closing his eyes. He reached up to turn on his microphone so he could be heard in the loud space. "Bellyaching about it isn't going to change anything. We're outnumbered."

"It's that damn Holloway's fault."

At the mention of Caden, Jean's eyes slightly slanted back open. He glanced at his cousin, who was glaring around.

"Where is that traitorous bastard, anyway?"

Privately, Jean wondered the same thing. He hadn't seen him once. He hadn't seen or sensed any of his uncanny band of men, either, which was a good thing--for the moment.

He focused back on his food. "And if you find him, exactly what do you plan on doing?"

"Giving him a piece of my mind."

"And that will do...what?" When blue eyes focused on him, he blinked patiently. "I imagine he gets complaints about the growing number of inhuman-born hunters all the time. That, or people have begun to calm down because of the new technology the government has been dishing out for non-magic-using groups..."

His gaze went to the entrance and he smiled upon seeing Alister and Clancy of the Crowley Hunters. It didn't take long before Alister looked his way and approached.

Remaining in his seat, Jean glanced at Artie, who was oblivious as he ate and frowned about. When Alister was close enough, he nodded. "Alister."

"Jean." Alister smiled amiably when Artie turned to frown at him too. "And Arther."

Artie huffed, then stood and left the table, presumably to get more food.

Alister looked after him for a moment, then moved around to sit beside Jean. "I see you have new scars."

"Yeah." Jean ran a finger over his scarred lower lip. "You've probably heard."

"I did, but I'd love to hear the details from you sometime."

"I'll talk about it during the meeting."

"Alright." Alister gave his shoulder a pat before parting. "I'll see you around."

Jean watched after him for a moment, then finished his drink.

After two more plates of food, he and Artie once more went their separate ways. It was still early, and unlike the time five years ago, the annual meetings now normally occurred around noontime. There were almost five hours until then.

He inevitably ended up hopping on the nearest transporter to bring him to the elevator. The ride was relatively quiet, as a great margin of the hunters had gone to eat breakfast. The other half were patrolling and making sure the outpost ran smoothly.

As he entered the elevator, his hair suddenly stood up on end. He almost spun around to see Deus standing at the closing doors, his thumbs hanging from his belt hooks.

"Why, hello, again!" he sang, red eyes flashing dangerously. The smile on his face widened until it was an impossible size. "It's been less than twenty-four hours since we last spoke!"

Jean's hand twitched to reach for Ringe, but he didn't want to risk it being destroyed when it couldn't harm the man, anyway. He didn't speak but did step away from him, his expression morphing into a pointed frown.

"Hmm?" Leaning forward, head tilting to the side, Deus' eyes slanted deeply. "I figure your throat's all fucked up, but you can at least greet me with a nod. A blink. Hm, something."

A blond brow cocked up, unimpressed.

Sighing, Deus leaned back against the doors. "In any case...Where are you going?" He suddenly looked eager. "Ooh, going to the city, eh?"

"Stay the fuck out of my head," Jean hissed.

Taken aback, or acting so, the inhuman frowned. "Why do people like you act so brazen around your superiors? It's asking for death."

"It takes a lot to phase someone who's faced the Eldest Child." Jean crossed his arms even as the reddish eyes widened.

Swirls slowly appeared in place of irises as reddish-brown eyes turned blood red. Wordlessly, Deus pushed himself off the doors and stared Jean down. Defiant blue eyes stared back. "So. You are the one who faced my King." The smooth, annoyingly playful voice had become low with a hint of sarcasm. "A mere tosser thinks highly of himself. How...incensing."

The growl attached to the last word made Jean's muscles tense, and he readied himself for the worst.

But nothing came.

The inhuman gave a smirk that seemed entirely out of place. "Don't worry...Didn't I say I wouldn't let anything happen to Zelezh'arryel's mate?"

Jean didn't dare lower his guard.

The atmosphere shifted. Shoulders relaxing, Deus slipped his hands into his pockets. His smirk changed to a lazy smile. After a moment of nothing, observing Jean's tense body, he waved a hand. "I'm surprised you haven't said anything about the elevator."

"How it's still moving?"

"Yeah."

"I know some inhumans can manipulate space and time." It was Jean's turn to scan the inhuman before him. "You're either a hallow...a devil...a mahre..."

The red eyes slanted with humor.

"Or an unfortunate mix of all three."

Deus frowned with a tut. "Now, that's not very nice. Your mate is all three."

Jean exhaled heavily through his nose. "If all you're going to do is talk to me, you can do it out in the open."

A return of the wide smile. "But I like seeing you freak out. It's so human."

Despite his words, the elevator came to a slow stop at what Jean suspected was his destination. Deus turned around as the doors opened, revealing the ground floor. He slipped out as people moved in, and a reddish eye turned back to look at Jean with a smile.

Relaxing by a small margin, Jean left the elevator and ignored Deus, walking through the wide passageways to the outpost's stables. The tall form, however, followed him. He truly didn't mind so much. It was being alone with the inhuman that made him uncomfortable. It gave him a feeling of vulnerability that was different from the possibility of being killed, eaten, maimed, or other. No...It was a feeling that made his skin crawl.

He glanced back at the long legs keeping up with his wide strides.

Upon arriving at the stables, Deus merely watched Jean borrow a horse and then ride out. The inhuman waved him off, giving a sly smile all the while.

Not so much as acknowledging Deus' presence, Jean repressed a shudder.

When he hit the field surrounding the mountain, he urged the horse into a gallop. Feeling the early morning wind in his hair steadily eased his mind. To and fro, he saw other hunters riding around in the brown grass, and they acknowledged him with friendly waves and nods. He returned the greetings, but kept his gaze forward. He wasn't feeling very amiable.

The path eventually gave away to a paved road. Jean slowed the horse into a trot, watching the large buildings grow larger in the distance. Cities. He would never appreciate them. After a few miles' run, Bremen was the closest location to the Memorraw. In the spring and summer, it was jarring to go from a sea of brown and changing colors and dirt roads to eventual concrete without a small settlement in-between. No town, no homestead. Just a jarring, loud city.

It would have to do.

Eventually, he let the horse rest in a stable at the edge of the city. Doing so brought back a sense of déjà vecu. Five years ago, he came to Bremen with Celezar in his dog form. With this thought, he relaxed further with a sense of sadness. Instead of dwelling on it, he began the casual walk through the city.

His destination was a park. It was the largest in the city, a modest distance from the tall buildings. He didn't have to go far from where he left the horse. It was roughly three miles away from the stables, a distance he walked to make time move faster. Sunrise was near when he left the stables.

By the time he arrived, the sun peeked over the horizon. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight, but it was cool. Unaware he had done so, he stood atop a small hill overlooking the park. He took in the sight of a lake where migrating geese swam. The quiet and stillness of the park was nice.

Hands in his pockets, he heard the distant barking of a dog. He didn't think anything of it until he spotted a large black form standing out among the colorful leaves in the corner of his eye. When he glanced over, it was gone. Again, he thought nothing of it, looking forward.

Then his head snapped back into the form's direction. A black dog trotted down a path. He took a step towards it, then thought against the idea to follow. But...

His expression steadily turned into one of suspicion. Quickly, he strode down the hill and followed. He was several paces behind the dog but kept it in his sights. The dog brought him further from the occupied, visible area of the park.

It was difficult to figure the dog's breed. Its tail was awfully long and feathered, its long coat dense and wavy. It reminded Jean of a mix of an Irish Setter and a Golden Retriever, though its long, floppy ears perked up every now and then in a somewhat unusual manner. There was furthermore an ethereal quality to it; it moved as if it wasn't truly there, gliding over the leaves and grass, leaving only a gentle wind.

There was a lower path down a grass slope above a bridge. Jean recognized the location immediately, and his suspicions were confirmed. Before he could say or do anything, the dog disappeared beneath the structure. He slowly moved down the slope until he spotted the familiar tall form leaning against the bridge's underpass.

Olive green eyes turned to him, flashing in the light. "Hey, Jeanie-boy."

His eyes slightly widened, then narrowed. He stepped onto the path and walked into his mate's embrace, pulling him down by the lapels of his shirt into a kiss. There was a chuckle in-between and muscular arms wrapped around his waist. He shivered, practically melting against his mate from the warmth that blossomed within him. His senses became enveloped by the familiar, protective presence, the smell of rain, herbs and musk...

...and something slightly sweet.

"What are you doing here?" he murmured between the kiss, his voice low and almost plaintive. "Where are the kids?"

Celezar gently pushed him against the wall. "They're fine." He deepened the kiss, smiling at the soft groan made in response.

As the long tongue roamed in his mouth, Jean lowered his hands, enjoying how Celezar was practically rubbing against his body. Gyrating. Steadily becoming more aggressive. He shivered again and gently broke the kiss, his mouth open while Celezar's tongue slowly retracted.

Staring with slanted eyes into burning black orbs, he shakily exhaled. "What...are you doing here?"

Celezar licked his lips. "I missed you. I wanted to see you...maybe play with you..."

Groaning louder, Jean fished for self-restraint within himself. "Zarryel..."

A hot mouth moved to his ear, licking and nipping at his earlobe. "Please?"

He shivered again, swallowing at the warm breath that tickled his neck and inner ear. The hands at his waist stroked him. "Not here."

"Oh? Where then, love? Tell me."

The mouth moved to suck and nip at his neck. He softly moaned. "My room..."

"Ooh...A whole room to ourselves..."

A few thrusts pressed him harder against the wall. "Yeah..." He emitted a grunt when he was bitten, followed by a deep sigh.

There were only two reasons that could explain why his mate was so excited. He could simply be in the mood; there were times he was aggressive about it.

Then there was the simple possibility that he was pregnant.

Celezar softly hummed, then pulled away. He looked down at Jean with a loving smile and green eyes that told him he was being silly.

Sighing, Jean pushed his mate away and cleared his throat. "For the third time...what are you doing here?"

The smile widened. "I'm here for the meeting."

He blinked. "But...why?"

"The Visce Hunters just arrived."

He slightly frowned. "How will you explain that...?" He took a moment to think about it. "Everyone thinks your family is oblivious to knowing you are--or were--inhuman."

"Yes." Celezar placed a hand gently around Jean's neck, caressing his scarred chin with a thumb. "The story is that I reunited with them and they accepted me..."

Looking into the sad green orbs, Jean stepped closer. Instead of commenting on the change in demeanor, he nuzzled against his mate's chest. Arms went around him, holding him protectively.

"Don't worry, love." Celezar brushed his fingers through the blond locks. "I'll keep my distance. Put on a good act for me, eh?"

"Done."

Chuckling, Celezar squeezed him. "You ate?"

"Yeah. Still hungry, though." At the reminder of the reason why he left the outpost, or at least one of them, Jean huffed. "Some asshole inhuman is also about. He reminds me of you...and Mackler. I hate that."

"Mackler? Caden's man?" Celezar's face scrunched up. "That's gross."

"Yeah."

"What's his name?"

Jean fumed at the very thought of saying the inhuman's name. "He told me to call him Deus." He paused when his mate stiffened. He was suddenly pulled away from the warm chest, hands on his shoulders and wide green eyes staring at him in alarm.

"You...you met Modeus?" Celezar spoke between his teeth.

Jean blinked. "If...we're talking about the same inhuman, then...yes?"

Anger pooled in Celezar's eyes. "Red eyes, curly dark reddish hair, standing taller than me?" At the nod, an abrupt and violent growl ripped from his throat. He glared around, holding Jean against him. "That...piece of shit..."

Jean placed a hand on Celezar's chest. "Who is he?"

Celezar's upper lip curled. "He's...Ugh, I hate saying it, even." He looked Jean in the eye. "He's my cousin. My mother's sister's son. A bad soul born from a good womb."

"I can see that."

He sniffed at Jean's body. "Did he touch you?"

"Not really--"

Celezar's eyes blazed with anger. "There's a hint of him on you."

"Well...we fought a bit..."

A dismissive sound emitted from the hybrid, and he took Jean by his hand to leave the underpass with him. "I'm going to murder him," he muttered. Louder, he asked, "What did he say to you?"

"You two grew up together."

A vehement scoff. "That is unfortunately true."

"I imagine the part about you two being 'dear' friends is untrue."

"In his fucked-up mind, we are."

"He's taken some kind of interest in me." When there wasn't an answer, only the tightening of the grasp around his hand, Jean asked, "Where are we going?"

"Antonio is near."

He blinked in surprise. "You know?"

"Well, Antonio is also my cousin...my older cousin...so, yeah. He told me you two were to meet."

"Good, I suppose..."

"There's still some time before the meeting, so it's best to get the conversation out of the way before it happens."

Celezar's irritation slightly eased as they went to a part of the city Jean was unfamiliar with. He never had reason to enter the livelier, busier sections, typically sticking with the park and the easternmost entrance.

Much to his confusion, his mate eventually calmed--or outwardly seemed to--and brought him to his side as they came to a downtown section of the city. Jean didn't think it was actually the city's downtown, but there was certainly enough activity about, and enough vehicles around, to mistake it for one.

Steadily, Jean sensed the presence of a familiar, powerful creature. Following his senses, Jean saw through the glare of the sun a white-haired man sitting within a coffee shop window. Still holding his hand, Celezar led him inside.

The potent smell of pastries and coffee hit Jean's olfactory, and he suddenly felt the desire for some. Antonio didn't seem to notice them yet, and he was currently looking out the window with what looked like a frappe in front of him on his table.

"Would you like some coffee, love?"

Jean looked up into his mate's green eyes. First, he made sure there weren't any traces of ire, and there didn't seem to be any within the twinkling, patient orbs. He smiled. "Yes. A sandwich would be nice, if they have one, too."

"Any particular kind?"

"No." He paused. "If you get me vegetable, I'll pinch you."

Celezar pouted, then chuckled and let go of Jean's hand to move towards the counter. "Go talk."

Turning forward, Jean approached Antonio's booth. Once a few steps away from him, the nephilim looked his way with an expectant, lazy smile and slanted eyes.

"May I sit?" Jean asked once he came to the booth.

"Of course, of course." Antonio motioned across from him. "I see you brought my big cousin."

"He told me you were here." Jean sat further in, aware Celezar would likely box him against the wall anyway.

"Ah, good." Antonio took a sip from his sweet drink, which had quite a bit of whipped cream in it, then exhaled, "Well, then. Jean-Luc--"

"Jean."

"Jean." The nephilim tilted his head to the side, licking his whipped cream mustache. "What to talk about first, hm?"

"I want to know what Patty's true story is," Jean said evenly, slanting his own eyes. "No bullshit, no half-truths. I want to know what happened the moment my sister died to present day."

"That's it?"

Shaking his head, Jean continued, "I also want to know what your motives are."

"You say that as if I have some." Another sip. Another lick of the white mustache.

Jean's eyes narrowed further. Before he could say anything more, Celezar slid into the booth at his side, placing a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of what smelled like a turkey sandwich in front of him.

For just a moment, his tense, foul mood alleviated when Celezar moved to lower and kiss him.

He softly grunted. "Devils," he muttered once Celezar moved away.

Grinning widely, his mate hummed suggestively before taking a mouthful of his own cup of hot chocolate. Lowering it, he then stared at his younger cousin across from him. "Antonio."

"Celezar." Antonio gave a nod.

Jean looked between them.

Leaning back and resting his arm around Jean's shoulders, Celezar sighed, "Start from the top."

"Very well." The nephilim lowered his head, moving his drink aside. He then raised his hands onto the table and laced his fingers together. "I'm not good at telling stories...especially sad ones..."

Unintentionally, Jean rested against Celezar, bracing himself as Antonio gathered the words needed to tell the story.

"It wasn't a demon that killed Nadelyn."

Eyes widening, Jean's hand clenched at his side. "What?"

"Yeah." The pale blue eyes, sad and weary, looked into his. "Cultists. Human cultists. They killed your sister."