by R.K. Ryals
Chapter 17
Conor
She's getting better at hiding her fear.
My eyes track Emma as she moves across the dining hall. All eyes are on her, but she moves forward. She isn't confident, but in my opinion, that makes her braver.
"She's going to fail," Tom Henry says from my right. He guards Lyre, a greedy she-Demon with a bad attitude.
"I'm betting she finishes ahead of your mark," Grace Withers says from farther down the wall. She guards Fiona, another she-Demon, no less greedy but potentially a good protector.
"She's too skittish," Tom argues.
Grace snorts.
"You are about as observant as a piece of toilet paper, Henry. Watch her eyes."
I watch Emma as she turns, taking a plate of food from a woman near the kitchen. Deidra Alexander is still clinging to her. The small imp hasn't had a good experience at the Acropolis. She has been attacked twice, her assailants no longer students. They have been exterminated. I suspect she's been attacked more than this, but there is no way to tell.
"She's scared shitless, and you think she'll come out ahead of Lyre," Tom says with a laugh.
I am watching Emma's eyes now. They are wide, searching. Her head cocks to one side, and she flinches. Her movements are almost spastic.
"Oh, she'll come out ahead," Grace says. "She's a sensitive. One of my past marks was a sensitive, but she was trained, aware."
Grace's words have garnered the gargoyles' attention. I push away from the wall, my thoughts scrambling over the new information. Emma's eccentric behavior, her fears, her need to lash out . . . it all makes sense now.
"A sensitive?" Will asks.
"No shit," Rachel swears. "I can't believe I didn't catch on to that sooner."
I agree with Rachel. Emma's eyes are narrowed as she follows Marion to a back table. It is mostly empty, and Marion waves at the surface before leaving Emma and Deidra alone. Gargoyles can only interfere so much. The rest is left up to the instructors and the Guardians. Guardians are security. We make sure no one is killed.
"What's a sensitive?" Will asks again.
"A sensitive has heightened senses. They can see and hear things no one else can hear. Some, but not all, even have a sixth sense. This means they are in tune, not only with their surroundings, but with emotions, with some thoughts. They feed off emotion. Untrained, this can lead to paranoia, fear," Grace answers.
We're all looking at Emma's table now.
"Wow," Will breathes. "That's our Emma, alright."
Rachel rolls her eyes as Tom laughs coldly.
"Our?"
I see Will's face redden as he realizes his mistake.
"Did you get assigned as her Guardian, Escort?" Tom sneers.
I feel my jaw tighten. Will is more tolerant than most. He didn't enter the Inner Circle until the new laws about Demons had passed. He doesn't understand the hatred the same way the rest of us do.
"No, he didn't," I say coldly, my eyes on Emma. "I did."
The entire wall of gargoyles goes quiet.
"Conor Reinhardt? A Guardian to a she-Demon?"
I don't know the gargoyle who utters the sarcastic question, but I know they all mirror his sentiment. The Acropolis is a fairly new idea. Rehabilitating Demons is something most gargoyles don't support. Those assigned to the school are usually there because they are being punished. Whatever their transgression, it isn't enough for a demotion, but it is enough to get them assigned to a Demon. No one ever volunteers.
I am the son of Paul Reinhardt. The Reinhardts are legendary. I am suddenly less in their eyes. Will stiffens next to me.
"He vo-"
I elbow Will in the ribs. He coughs. If he thinks a Reinhardt being assigned as a Demon Guardian is bad, he has no idea what it will do to our family's reputation if he lets it slip I volunteered.
I give him a look before focusing on Emma's table again. She's attempting to eat, but she's mostly just picking at the food, her shoulders taut. She looks on edge. A sensitive. An untrained sensitive. Damn.
"Reinhardt, I think I speak for all the Guardians here when I say we'd love to know how you got assigned to this hellhole," Sean Thomas says with a laugh. He's a burly man in his mid-twenties with russet hair and green eyes. He looks even bigger standing next to Grace who is average in height and skinny with brown hair and blonde highlights.
I shrug.
"We all make mistakes," I say simply while avoiding Rachel and Will's gazes. I'm thankful Roach isn't present.
"Well, I'm placing my bets on Conor's mark this year," Grace says indifferently.
Tom bets against her. This continues down the wall.
"You're betting on who will finish and who will die?" Will asks, shocked.
Tom leans forward, his eyes on Will's reddened face.
"What else do you expect us to do to pass the time? You think that's cold, Escort? Wait until you see a training class. Your Emma is going to have a hell of a time then."
Tom laughs, highly amused at himself. He looks down the row.
"Get it? Hell of a time," he spits.
The joke isn't funny. Rachel moves closer to Will and me and lowers her voice.
"I never even considered her being a sensitive."
I nod as I watch Emma's table. Watching her now, it's easy to discern. It also changes things. Her survival rate is higher.
"She is going to be fine," I say, the words confident. Rachel watches me.
"She might stand a chance, Con, but it doesn't mean she'll be fine."
I look down, my eyes hard.
"In two days, she's lost everything. And we've not only taken everything from her, we've taken who she thought she was. We have torn her apart. She has to start from scratch now. And she's still standing. Fearful, less than confident, but still standing. Could you say the same about yourself?" I ask. Rachel doesn't answer. "And you question whether or not she'll be fine."
"She's a Demon," Rachel whispers.
I know her hatred. I still fight it daily. But my perspective is changing. I'm not any more tolerant, but I'm beginning to see the promise in rehabilitating half-mortal Demons.
"Two days ago, she was just a girl."
