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Harry swore viciously as he landed on his ass yet again, hard enough that the pain jolted up his spine. He'd landed wrong and Arielle knew that he was probably going to hear how, in thorough detail. Hand to hand practice days were the worst.
He scowled up at the Joker he was sparring with, silently daring him to say something. If it was offensive enough, he would be justified in bringing out his claws.
He very much wanted to use his claws.
The Joker opened his mouth. But before anything was actually said, a large hand clamped down on the Joker's shoulder.
"Let's change things up," Oleander said. He tipped his head at the two other Jokers in the room, who were paired together for that morning's sparring practice. "Two on one, I don't care who teams up and who."
"An order, ACE?" the Joker said, tone cold. His entire body bristled.
Harry watched in silent interest. Blades weren't allowed when it was a hand to hand practice, but he'd picked up enough over the past few months to realize that the way the Joker was moving meant he still had one on him, hidden away.
And it was about to be drawn.
The Joker moved. Oleander moved as well.
A split second later, Harry caught the scent of blood.
He glanced over at the wall, where an abnormally large cactus spine was embedded in it, smeared with blood. In a single move, Oleander had blocked the blow meant for him and thrown the spine at just the right angle to draw his opponent's blood.
A single strike fight to re-establish hierarchy and authority, the situation resolved in a blink of an eye.
Several months in a Military Circle and Harry still didn't completely understand Gheyos.
The Joker tucked his knife away wherever he'd originally hid it, acknowledging the defeat with a tilt of his head. Then he ambled away to join the others of his rank.
When Oleander took a step forward to peer down at him, Harry braced for the expected lecture. Most of his interactions with Oleander involved the ACE lecturing, after all.
Instead, Oleander sighed and held out a hand to Harry. The Submissive stared blankly at the green-veined hand for a minute, but he eventually took it and Oleander easily hauled him to his feet.
As he settled on his feet, Harry was immediately struck at how tall the Gheyo was. Everyone in the Circle was tall—their first Submissive had been taller than average and had compensated accordingly with taller Bonded—but he'd gotten so used to it he normally didn't notice it unless they were close enough he couldn't help it.
Too close, part of his instincts screamed at him. His breath caught, the protest rising in his throat.
But without him having to say anything, Oleander stepped away. And the other half of his instincts immediately mourned the man's close presence.
Such a headache, Harry grumbled internally. His claws itched with the urge to tear into something, to demonstrate just how much his instincts were tearing him apart.
Oleander ran a careful hand through his long, layered green hair. Each strand was tipped yellow-green, the same color as the cactus spine embedded in the wall. When he was finished, one of those strands was wrapped around his fingers, and Oleander deftly separated the spine from the strand of hair.
As always, Harry was tempted to ask how the Gheyo managed being covered in spikes from head to waist. Certainly, it was difficult to do anything with it because Harry never saw it tied back.
Oleander hold out the dull end of the spine to Harry and when he took it, a wordless spell had transfigured it into a standard knife. Harry idly wondered what was the point of banning blades in hand to hand when Oleander himself was never truly unarmed.
"Zebaker set, once through,” the ACE said quietly.
Harry's eyes flicked around the room to the others—the three Jokers together, then the rest of the Suite paired off, Prince vs. Princess, King vs. Queen. The Jokers' spar looked more like a brawl and the grappling between King and Queen was closer to almost indecent levels of groping. He was sure Oleander was aware of it, but for now, it seemed the ACE's attention was dedicated to him.
In the back of his mind, he recalled a conversation he'd had with his Queen a few days earlier.
“Which one is that again? It's hard to remember all the fancy names you have for everything."
"Do I have to show you again?" Oleander's voice was tight. Not with disapproval, as Harry was used to reading the tone. More like restraint, keeping eager anticipation at bay. The spark in Oleander's green eyes wasn't anger or frustration, but the gleam of a hunter waiting for his prey to walk willingly into his trap. He'd seen that look before, though usually it was directed to the ACE's beloved King. It was odd, having that look focused on him instead.
But his Queen had been right—Oleander was giving him openings. And now that he'd caught on, had been clued in. Harry was potentially ready to take things a few steps further.
"Yes," he said, mouth suddenly dry. "You should definitely show me again." As he turned his back on the ACE, he saw the green in his eyes take on a darker hue and heard the spines in his hair rustle together.
Too close, his instincts warned him again as he felt the ACE press against his back. Spiked green strands of hair pooled over his shoulders as Oleander towered over him, blocking the others from sight. A green-tinged arm pressed against his, a broad hand wrapped around the one holding the knife, and even though he was distantly aware of Oleander speaking, explaining each movement and how to best hold the knife, Harry was really only paying attention to the lingering touches and the warm scent that wrapped around him and the way his instincts shifted from "too close" to wanting the Gheyo closer.
Oh, he was starting to understand the appeal now.
"Focus," Oleander said, cool voice shifting to something Harry could only associate as warm affection.
He wasn't going to be able to focus at all now. Or actually, he would be focusing, just not on what Oleander wanted him to.