When Jason had gotten told by Talia that she had an assignment for him, he was expecting a hired hit or more vigorous training exercises and brutal duels—the typical bloodshed of the League.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Now, he was sat in his quarters with a child. A child that was the grandchild of the Demon's Head, and the child he now had to protect with his life. He wasn't quite sure what to do. His hands were trained in combat. Trained to deliver deadly slashes with the katana on his back. This was unfamiliar territory, but he wasn't going to disobey orders.

No one was going to misplace a hair on your head, and he'd make sure of it.