Did demons ever date humans? More specifically, would a demon powerful enough to represent SERC at such a young age ever consider asking out an oracular lightweight like her?
Her common sense said no. But when he angled himself toface her more directly and his knee bumped hers, he didn’t move away. Neither did she. And even through his suit pants and her leggings, that bare inch of contact hitched her breath and sent pleasant tingles up her spine.
After several minutes, she began wrapping things up. “Anyway, all of us really like having individual rooms in our dorm, even if we have to share bathroom facilities.”
Gwen especially appreciated the lack of a roommate, given her sibling-packed, overcrowded bedroom back home…not to mention her utter failure to make friends at the academy.
Oracles were notoriously competitive—everyone wanted the best-paid, most perk-filled positions available after graduation—and standoffish. After all, too much camaraderie could persuade them to let down their guard and let critical, proprietary information slip. And shared information was wasted information, useless in building an oracle’s reputation or earning their keep with their eventual employer, who invariably preferred to be the sole entity benefiting from said information.
Besides, Gwen had long ago earned her reputation at the academy as an oracular dud. Having to share a room with someone who clearly—and accurately—considered her an inferior seer, too underpowered to bother befriending or even acknowledging, would have hurt even more than her current isolation.
“I’m so grateful to SERC for its generous funding, and I hope you pass that along to the councilors.” Exactly the sentiment her headmaster had urged students to share with the inspectors, and also her personal truth. “Is there anything specific you’d like to ask me?”
“Yes.” Head tilted, he regarded her solemnly. “Although I getthe sense you’re leaving out anything that might be considered unpleasant.”
She had to laugh. “You’re a SERC official, Hugh. Under the circumstances, can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t.” His eyes crinkled appealingly in answering amusement. “But…are you happy here at the academy? Is there anything you’d change?”
Other than the negligible amount of talent she possessed and her utter loneliness? Neither of which he nor SERC could remedy with increased funding or by fiat?
Her smile faltered. “Well…”
No matter how patiently he might wait for her answer, he didn’t care about her personal problems. Why would he? Why would anyone?
As long as he was asking, though, she shouldn’t lose this singular opportunity to argue for at least one important change at Delphi. Even though haranguing a SERC official required far more boldness than she typically possessed and wouldn’t please the headmaster either.
But it was important, so she gathered her nerve and did the right thing.
“I’m fine. Besides, I’m leaving the academy soon, so my happiness or lack thereof is unimportant.” When he frowned and opened his mouth to respond, she simply kept speaking. “I do have a suggestion for the Council, however.”
He didn’t look happy about her dodge, but he let it go. “Yes?”
“As you know, SERC prohibits outsiders from visiting the campus and disallows most travel to and from the academy for both students and faculty during the school year. For good reason.”
Everyone—government agencies, corporations, wealthy elites—wanted a seer of their own, since having an oracle’s predictive capabilities at one’s disposal generally led to big money. Many of those who couldn’t bid highly enough to claim the most talented Delphi Academy graduates would, if given the opportunity, gladly abduct those students instead. So would numerous criminal gangs, human or otherwise, both for profit reasons and to prevent prophecies of their future schemes.
Unlike most other Enhanced designations, oracles’ power didn’t give them any good means of self-defense. They couldn’t place wards on their dorm rooms or incinerate their enemies or even read the thoughts of would-be abductors. Before graduation, then, their protection lay almost entirely in Delphi’s strict protocols and careful guardianship of its students.
As the pitch-black joke at school went:What do you call a seer with a known address? Amber. Short for Amber Alert.
High walls and armed guards surrounded the Delphi Academy campus, and even students’ families weren’t told its exact location. When attendees left for winter or summer holidays, they did so in secrecy, using false names. And immediately after graduation, the vast majority of seers traveled straight from their successful verification tests to their new workplaces…and disappeared from public sight entirely. Their names might appear in eventual news articles about thwarted catastrophes or unlikely investments that made billions, but those stories would feature no information that could potentially lead to the responsible oracles’ locations.
“I fully understand the need for tight security. Here’s the thing, though.” When she laid a hand on Hugh’s forearm, hisdark suit’s sleeve was warmer than a blanket plucked fresh from the dryer. “I realize demons don’t get sick, but humans do.”
“Yes.” His dark brows had beetled again. “From what I understand, SERC funds an acute-care medical facility on this campus to address that very issue.”
She squeezed his arm soothingly. “Which I appreciate, but that’s not my point.”
His nod encouraged her to make that point, so she sucked in a deep breath and spoke plainly. “I don’t think you or most Supernaturals understand how unpleasant and frightening illness can be or the intense loneliness of feeling terrible without loved ones near. Even with a clinic close at hand.”
When Matilda’s cough had turned to pneumonia last month, Gwen had ventured into the infirmary, despite knowing that her presence might not be welcome. She’d found her classmate crying for her mother—whose petition to visit her daughter had just been denied.
“When students have anything more serious than a cold, either families should be allowed access or we should be sent to a secure medical facility outside Delphi where they can see us.” Gwen’s voice wobbled, but she laid out her opinions without apology. “Also, if our family or friends are seriously ill or injured, students and faculty should be able to leave campus. When Ms. Carr’s grandfather was dying a few years back, she couldn’t even say goodbye.”
Gwen’s own parents couldn’t have afforded either the time off needed to travel to Delphi or the expense required to bring her home. But the changes would help others, which was good enough for her.
Hugh didn’t withdraw in stiff affront at her temerity, as she’dhalf expected him to do. If anything, he leaned in even closer. So close that the faint brush of his minty breath against her face raised goose bumps.
