Damian and Little Jo lay side by side on the single bed that Little Jo usually had all to himself.
The edges of their blankets brushed lightly together, yet both boys lay stiffly, deliberately keeping even their breathing quiet. The room was so silent they could hear each other's heartbeats, but neither felt remotely sleepy. Both were visibly uncomfortable.
Little Jo wasn't used to sleeping beside someone else, and Damian found it even harder to bear.
He lay on the outside of the bed, facing away with his back to Little Jo, keeping as much distance as possible from the boy behind him. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his hand unconsciously slipped beneath his pillow, feeling around for the short blade he had secretly brought along.
How could an assassin possibly go without a weapon?
At any given moment, Damian always had some kind of weapon within reach-a short blade, a long sword, or a throwing star. Only then did he feel safe.
But he still couldn't sleep.
In the League of Assassins, his mother and grandfather would send assassins to ambush him at unpredictable times, even while he slept. If Damian failed to wake in time and subdue his attacker, what awaited him was actual death.
After training that hellish, never mind having another person beside him-just one unexpected breath in his room would wake Damian instantly and put him in combat mode.
After a year in Gotham and everyone's tireless efforts, Damian had only just managed to tolerate members of the Wayne Family without suddenly turning into "a cat on high alert."
Little Jo, however, had enormous potential but had never undergone any training. His breathing and heartbeat were like a booming drum placed right beside Damian's ear.
Damian kept his eyes closed, his brow furrowing more