“Never,” he told me.
“How fast do you dash, Escort Captain?” Stella asked London.
“Let me put it to you this way: I could pick Ada up and give you a three-second head start, and you still wouldn’t beat my time.”
London smiled at us and moved on.
“Is he lying?” Stella asked Melissa.
“No,” the mining foreman told her. “Combat Talents are on another level. We can’t keep up.”
London was sending out all sorts of interested signals. He was nice to look at, charming, and he’d clearly been around the block enough to know what he was doing. By now, he’d had enough experience not to fumble and enough patience to pay attention when it mattered. If I agreed to go on a date, it would go smoothly and end well.
However, the DDC forbade fraternization with guild members. I was supposed to stay neutral and refrain from forming any personal attachments. Even the work-hours friendships like the one with Melissa were frowned upon. Getting involved with a guild Talent would get me fired, and I had two kids and a mortgage. As fun as London would be in bed – and he would be very fun – he wasn’t worth losing my job.
My phone vibrated. Hino Academy. Please don’t be a problem, please don’t be a problem…
“Yes?”
“Ms. Moore?”
Gina Murray, the assistant principal. That wasn’t good.
“We have a problem.”
Of course, we do.
A woman emerged from the gate and waved. A scout the assault team had left behind. An hour had passed without incident, and it was time to go in.
“Alright people!” London called out. “You know the drill. Last gear check. Move out in two minutes.”
“What happened?”
I needed to fix this fast. Phones didn’t work inside the gate. There was no connection, and if you tried to take a picture or record audio, you only got static. London had to stick to schedule and account for any delay. If we went inside five minutes late and a disaster struck, even if it was completely unrelated, the Guild would drag him over hot coals for it.
“Tia left campus without permission.”
Melissa rolled her eyes.
“Okay.” What was that kid doing…
“Before she left, several students and a member of the faculty heard her make a self-harm threat.”
“What?”
“We are required to contact the police…”
“Please don’t do anything. Let me speak to her first. I’ll call you right back!”
I ended the call and stabbed Tia’s number in my contacts.
Beep.
She wouldn’t. Tia wouldn’t. Not in a million years.
Beep.
Beep.