Prologue #2
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, his dark 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’d half 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.
“All right.” When his lips pursed in thought, her gaze lingered there. “What should SERC do about their legitimate safety concerns, then?”
It didn’t sound like a challenge. More an invitation to explain her thoughts further.
She foundered for a moment, unused to anyone actually soliciting her opinion and uncertain how security logistics actually worked. Only—hadn’t her civics class recently discussed the absurdly expensive new building that housed the Supernatural and Enhanced Ruling Council’s offices?
“I don’t know. But if SERC can figure out how to secure their own headquarters, they can figure out how to secure this campus and its inhabitants more humanely,” she told him. “If they care enough to try.”
“Fair enough.” His head dipped in a little nod. “I’ll raise the concern with my contacts on the Council and see what can be done.”
She blinked at him. “Really?”
He didn’t intend to question her ability to fully comprehend such fraught matters? Or simply make a show of listening before patting her on the head and dismissing her complaint as soon as he left this waiting room?
“I suspect you’re right.” His forehead creased as he considered the issue.
“Some of the councilors are functionally immortal. All the others have access to expensive, high-powered healing spells, so even the Enhanced humans within SERC may not recall how it felt to be sick and alone. And since there are no oracles presently on staff at SERC, no one there grapples with the sort of isolation that you and your classmates experience.”
His free hand settled over hers for a fleeting moment, so lightly it was more a hot breeze than actual weight. “I’m sorry that they—we—haven’t had the empathy to fully understand your position before now. I’m grateful for your willingness to share the issue with me.”
Would it be weird and embarrassing and creepy if she kissed him for saying all that?
Yeah. Probably. Darn it.
She nudged his knee with hers instead. “I’m grateful that you listened. Also that you did have enough empathy to care. As a thank-you, please accept the final two pieces of Brie from the cheese platter.”
He’d earned that Brie. He should have it.
When she plucked her plate from the side table and offered its contents to him, though, he lifted a hand in refusal.
“You should either eat it here or take it with you, Gwen. For that matter, you should bring the remaining food from the platter back to your dorm, since you’re the final student facing the panel tonight. Otherwise, it’ll simply go to waste.”
Well, who was she to argue? Especially when that’d been her plan all along?
After one final, happy squeeze of his slim, hot forearm, she leapt to her feet, returned to the refreshments table, and began loading up her first napkin.
“Um…” He hesitated. “So…what’s—what’s your favorite type of cheese?”
She beamed at him over her shoulder. “What an excellent question!”
“I…” His expression had turned a bit dazed. “Thank you?”
“I mean, the problem is that I’ve had so little exposure to the truly great cheeses of the world.
Right now, Brie is my favorite, although the cafeteria served French onion soup once and apparently put Gruyère on top, and that was incredible.
So maybe Gruyère?” She thought for another moment as she piled cheddar cubes into a second napkin.
“But it’s hard to know what I’d love most without experiencing all the types that exist. The book I’m reading right now, Curdled by Emme de Savoie, is set at a cheesemongers’ boarding school in Paris, and I’m learning about all sorts of different, delicious-sounding varieties. ”
“The novel’s title is Curdled?”
“It’s a cheese reference,” she offered helpfully, then wanted to smack herself. “As you no doubt realized. Anyway, it’s the first book in de Savoie’s epic Dark Cheesemonger Tales series.”
She hesitated, waiting for him to cut her off or change the subject.
When he simply waited for her to continue, a wash of pleased warmth brought another smile to her lips as she readied a final napkin.
“So…yeah. The story starts when the school’s top scholarship student, an American named Bree, is found dead in a pool of Velveeta.
Authorities say it was an accident, but Bree’s closest friend, Mimi, thinks someone murdered Bree because of academic or romantic jealousy.
Or even class-based resentment, since most of the other students are wealthy, and—”
“The Velveeta might be a taunting reference to Bree’s relative poverty.” He sounded intrigued. “Or her nationality. Perhaps that might incite resentment too.”
“Exactly.” Her smile growing, she snagged her tote from the floor by the couch and prepared to fill it with fromage.
“Mimi—short for Mimolette—is one of the few other Americans and scholarship students at the academy. Once she starts investigating, she finds out that Rémy, the guy Bree was dating, is actually a vampire, so that complicates things, as does her growing attraction to him. And the fact that she’s poised to become the killer’s next target. ”
“Because of her status as a scholarship student, her Americanness, her investigation, or her involvement with the vampire ex.” Hugh ticked off the possibilities on his pale fingers. “Depending on Mimi’s grades, academic jealousy could be a motive too.”
“Yes!” Gwen exclaimed, and opened her bag carefully.
The zipper tended to jump its tracks if she tugged too hard.
“In the chapter I’m reading now, she gets invited to a campus party and has a drink, then wakes up surrounded by masked kidnappers carrying Cheez Whiz containers, and I have no idea what’s going to happen next.
Suffocation by Whiz? Initiation into one of the fromage-based sororities?
Sordid sexual rituals involving processed cheese spread? ”
Honestly, Gwen was kind of rooting for the sordid rituals. The sex ed classes at Delphi Academy had been disappointingly clinical. Curdled, on the other hand, promised to contain a delightful amount of debauchery.
After making an odd sort of choking sound, Hugh had begun to cough behind her.
She tucked her napkins inside her tote and twisted to check on him. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine.” He waved off her concern. “Just, uh, allergies.”
“I’m sorry.” Her nose crinkled. “Maybe some water might help?”
“I certainly hope so,” he said fervently.
Maybe because she had the school library’s brick-like copy of Curdled in her bag right now, the zipper balked when she tried to secure it again.
“Crap.” Digging past spare tampons and hair elastics, a bottle of generic Tylenol, the book, the cheeses, and a foldable comb, she unearthed the main problem. “Here. Hold this, please?”
She shoved the item in his hand, and he stared down at it.
“One second.” Hastily, she reconfigured the contents of her tote. “Okay. I think everything will fit now.”
He didn’t seem to hear her.
“This is”—he ducked his dark head to peer more closely at the item cupped in his hand—“what appears to be wedges of Swiss and Brie driving a convertible.”
“Yup.” She plucked the plastic figurine from his palm. “It was a birthday present from my younger brother. You get the joke, right?”
Absolute mystification had creased Hugh’s forehead. “What joke?”
“ ‘Cheeses Take the Wheel’?”
If anything, his frown deepened.