Page 54 of Facade

Jace and Clarke were able to meet in the basement for at least a few minutes every night. That made a big difference for both of them. Just being able to hold her, and drop the pretense of only being coworkers, had him feeling like everything was right in the world.

As long as they had this refuge, Jace could be patient, and manage the distance. The bond wasn’t complete yet. He and Clarke hadn’t had the freedom to feed it for that to happen.

But it wasn’t struggling, either. Colors had begun to fill in the design, showing a deepening of their connection. It was slow, but positive progress, and would have to do for now.

As frustrating as it was to pretend they barely knew each other in public, Jace was certain they would have a strong relationship. Every moment he and Clarke spent together was precious, and cherished. They wouldn’t take that, or each other, for granted.

Friday afternoon, a tall, lanky guy with bright red hair in a profusion of messy curls, and wired-rimmed glasses leaned against a wall in the training center at the end of Jace’s last class. He was watching the students with interest.

The focus of this period was not combat, but situational. Students enacted typical scenarios they would encounter on the job, some as officers, others as citizens.

A caster strutted past one of the powered students, hips swinging, and eyelashes fluttering. It was hilarious. The ‘officer’ struggled not to laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ma’am, do you have a current license for prostitution?”

The caster affected a look of outraged surprise, and spoke in a high falsetto, “Why, officer, what are you implying? Can’t a lady walk down a street in high heels without assumptions being made about what she does for a living?”

This performance was more dramatic and flamboyant than usual. Clearly, the guys were enjoying the day’s assignment. Their questions and dialogue were correct, even if they went a little overboard with it. Jace decided to let them have their fun.

When the buzzer rang at the end of the period, Jace dismissed his students. “Nice work guys, but I don’t recommend letting the ladies in town see that performance.” Laughter erupted from the students as they headed for the door. “I’ll see you next week,” Jace said as he walked over to greet the redhead.

“Jason Smith, I presume? Lane Matthews,” the young man said, extending his hand to grip Jace’s forearm just below the elbow, in spite of his bare skin. Jace returned the gesture. Hundreds of years ago, men shook hands when greeting each other. Most men didn’t want other males to think they were trying to detect a mate bond, making traditional handshakes obsolete. “That was entertaining. I’m glad I was early.”

Matthews had a firm grip, looked him in the eye, and had arrived early. He was also dressed appropriately, in slacks and a button-down, despite not being on duty yet. Those were all good signs.

“Law enforcement isn’t just about restraining suspects and fighting techniques. I try to cover most aspects of the job in my courses. It’s nice to meet you,” Jace said. “You’re saving our bacon here.”

“That’s mutual,” Lane responded. “I’m drowning in student loans, and was told I had enough credits for my master’s degree, only to realize that I didn’t after moving out.”

“Mars has a great master’s program, and as a monitor, you can whittle those loans down. Maybe that screw-up was a blessing in disguise, and all of this happened for a reason,” Jace said.

“I wondered that myself when I was called for an interview,” Lane said. “Mars was at the top of my list when I applied to schools, but since I came into my element early, and never struggled with it, I didn’t qualify for government grants.”

Jace nodded. For evolved courses, Mars and Venus had a similar status to venerated unevolved universities like Harvard. It was neither cheap, nor easy to get in unless you couldn’t control your power, and were considered a danger to society.

“Let’s walk around campus, so you can get a feel for it,” Jace said, and led the way to the front entrance. “I’ll introduce you to the other monitors, but think we should do that last. Were you told why the position was open?”

Lane shook his head. “All I know is that the previous elemental monitor wasn’t fulfilling his duties.”

Jace snorted at that. “I understand admin not wanting to air our dirty laundry, but think you should know what you’re walking into. It will probably be tense in the dorm for a bit, and take time for the students to be comfortable.”

At Lane’s inquisitive look, Jace gave a concise account of each issue, starting with the first emergency drill. He was honest in regard to which were facts, and what was circumstantial.

“While we have no concrete proof that Mitch was behind the classroom attack, the faculty unanimously believes that he was responsible for it,” Jace said. “Keeping him on staff is a risk none of us were willing to take. Having the documentation to terminate employment, we did so.”

Lane had stopped walking, and stared at Jace aghast. “Damn! I figured it had to be something serious, but this is beyond what I imagined.”

“Everyone has felt the strain. But with the exception of the monitor and students who were attacked in their classroom, the elementals have had the worst of it,” Jace said. “The reports can’t accurately portray the oppressive atmosphere in the dorm, and everything they were subjected to. Elementals in my classes are more at ease than they were last week, but it will take a while for them to recover.”

Lane nodded slowly. “And the underage students had the worst of it, being attacked in their classroom, confined to the dorm, and rehoused when they were barely settled in, on top of recently manifesting powers they can’t control,” he said with sympathy. “What a fucking mess. Those poor kids.”

Jace was relieved that Lane comprehended the nuances, and precisely how complicated the situation was.

“Exactly, they might not trust you at first,” Jace said. “Same with Logan Palmer, the student Mitch was accusing. I don’t want you to take it personally, if you get the cold shoulder.”

“I appreciate you explaining this,” Lane said. “Dean Stanhope said not to expect to have the rapport with my students that you and the other monitors have with the caster, powered, and shifter students immediately. As long as I fulfill the basic requirements over the next couple of weeks, he’ll be satisfied. Organizing dorm activities and participating in events can come later.”

“On the one hand, I see the logic in taking baby steps, and I know that Dean Stanhope doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed, since you’ll also be taking classes. He knows you’re being thrown into a steaming pile of shit created by someone else, and that it isn’t fair. But attending games with the rest of us will show the students that you aren’t like Mitch, and won’t try to prevent them from having friends of other classifications. Actions speak for themselves.”