"That could be an issue," Damian said, gaze returning to the door he'd just left. "I don't know shit about training Oracles."
"I don't think anyone living does, except maybe Czerno. He knew enough to find her and plot to bind her to him."
The idea of something so sweet in Czerno's depraved hold irked him. He wouldn't let someone like her get stuck in the middle of their war.
"Most Oracles don't live long enough to be of use," Han added. "Or they're terrible."
Not this one. He felt it in his bones, just as he'd felt a soul-deep connection to her the moment he'd touched her. He pulled out his cell to text his confidants.
U still online? he typed.
Both Dusty and Jule responded with smiley faces.
B on in a sec.
"Han, until I let you go back to war, you'll be her bodyguard. She knows Jake. If he doesn't drive her as crazy as he does me, divvy up shifts with him," he said. "She's gonna have a rough time ahead of her."
"Most Naturals get a little more notice before transforming. I think she's already started?"
"Yeah, and she knows shit about us or what she is." Damian felt the unusual urge to look in on her again, to feel her soft skin against him once more and make sure she was safe. Shaking his head, he retreated to his office. He picked up the headphone-mic combo. "Either of you know anything about Oracles?"
Fuck no, typed Dusty.
"Nope," Jule seconded. "We were just discussing HQ. You having any issues?"
"You mean, like an influx of vamps to Tucson?"
Bingo.
"Yeah. If Dusty doesn't object, I might reorganize the southwest sectors. Something is up."
Do whatever you want. You always do, Dusty typed with another string of angry emoticons.
"Damn, Dusty, you're a jackass today," Jule said, amused. "You sure you don't have a woman plaguing you?"
Damian smiled, waiting for Dusty's response. He could guess what Dusty was pissed about, and it didn't have anything to do with women or rearranging his sectors.
Today's my birthday, dick. You forgot again.
"Oooooooohhh," Jule breathed. "Another birthday? Not sure why you'd count at this point."
"I remembered," Damian said promptly. "You'd think after oh, a few thousand years, you'd remember, Jule."
"I'm sorry, Dusty. I owe you one," Jule said, chagrined.
No, you owe me about thirty. Thousand. It's not every day your little brother turns 300K.
"I forgot you're still a baby. I passed that mark a few hundred thousand years ago. I'll send you this video game I'm addicted to," Jule offered. "You might like it."