- Good time of the day, dear.

- And you, dear, and you.

A dozen men and women seated around a long table greeted me with a low murmur of restrained interest. In front of each small hill lay sheets with personal notes on graduates. Briefly, all our student life over the past four years: in grades, measurements of the mental level, feedback from teachers and practice reports.

- Miss Evangeline Nitaroka.

The dean, seated in the center of the table, gestured permission to a lone chair on my side of the tabletop.

- Is she the best in the class? - a tall vampire in a military tunic grunted vaguely. Sitting next to him, a large red-haired man with a hard face, obviously a werewolf, gave me an ironic look and leaned back in his chair, indifferently studying from top to bottom.

- In a sense, - the dean smiled softly, tapping his finger on the sheet in the column of numbers. It lined up in rows my well-deserved marks. The close to ideal overall score allowed me to study at the expense of the state. “Good, diligent girl. There are not enough stars from the sky, but in the end - the first on the list. Will you have proposals for Eva?

I twitched slightly to pay attention to my own application, but he stopped me with a look.

Our dean is a telepath, in other words, a third-level mentalist, capable of picking up thoughts. Not all, but separate, jerky ones. Especially if a person is worried and cannot control himself. So far, I've gotten along pretty well with him. The main thing to remember is that despite its benevolent plushness, our light follows the rules in principle and is far from being as simple as it looks.

The members of the commission rustled their papers, with a vengeance began to study the sheets with my data prepared by Mrs. Crowder.

"With your scores and a recommendation from the university, miss, we can offer an assistant position in the relaxation or human resources departments," one of the two formally dressed ladies offered, purring. A three-piece dressed man in horn-rimmed glasses on a long nose shook his head in agreement. Corporants.

In corporations, mentalists are checked not only regularly, but also suddenly, without an exact schedule. For me, this is a true death.

We mentalists are loved, groomed and raised, with one exception. If the ability suddenly starts jumping uncontrollably through the levels. In one period, a person shows the first level, and in another - for no reason, for no reason - the fifth or even the sixth. There is no strength and experience to control such power, emotions jump in a crazy dance, turning the owner into a bomb ready to explode at any moment. The mentalist begins to order, manage people. His offenders jump from the roofs, exemplary employees who are unfortunate enough to be his acquaintances take bags of money out of the bank, and when werewolves previously faithful to their husbands fall in love with an inconspicuous person, things take a very unpleasant turn.

Those jumping up and down the levels are called "grasshoppers". It is pointless to employ them, there is no benefit, but a bag full of problems with a cart, and the psyche from such jumps for the unfortunate is a disaster. Therefore, they are carefully searched for, they sift everyone through a fine sieve, and when they find them, they are locked in underground state laboratories. There was a man and no more.

So. I'm not a grasshopper!!!

I was "thrown" only once in my life, last summer, by a terrible accident, when my grandmother fell ill. One-time. Which is not serious at all.

Since then, my grandmother and I hide this fact, as if it never happened, we don’t even talk about what happened. But… my brain remembers. And neither in the official civil service, nor in the corporation, I can not in any way.

“Unfortunately, in large groups I get lost,” I said cautiously. And the corporants grimaced in disappointment, exactly the same, as if mirroring each other. - If you look in the comments column, there is a mark on the application for opening a private practice. This is my little dream.

The warm atmosphere in the room cooled somewhat. The dean cleared his throat and looked at me with paternal sadness.

- Miss Nitaroka. We have not announced yet openly, but from this year the practice is allowed to open only after six months or more of work experience in the profession. The installation of the Ministry came to us a week ago, and we did not have time to inform the students.

Like a battering ram hit me in the chest. Each new word hit backhand, shattering the reverently built plans into fragments. A mixture of disappointment, denial, confusion erupted like a fountain, splashing sparks around the room.

It's good that I sat on a chair and strengthened my mind with meditation. With a sharp, almost painful effort, I twisted the wave, wrapping it into a ball. She hit with shields, to the pain in her eyes, to the cold in her legs. Scoring an emotional outburst and clearing the room.

- Wow, - suddenly drawled a man in horn-rimmed glasses, - and we have you, girl, a box of surprises.

Demons! Depression in his soul! Did he catch something? Got my fear?

“What impressive self-control,” the man continued, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. - Can you still try a big organization?

- Or a service to help citizens, - a gray-haired old woman woke up, it seems from psychological support. The pointed ears, with a normal human face, hinted at a drop of faerie blood. - Of course, we would need it more strongly, but with such management, we can try to take you.

If only they knew I was in control.

- Is there anything temporary? I breathed. - Look, think. Understand mine.

In temporary positions, depth measurements were not carried out; telepathic checks were not done either. I would like to play for a little time, but without distribution, no one from the room will let go. If there are no temporary proposals, I'm all, even in the hole.

The dean raised an eyebrow in surprise, the silence dragging on. No one wanted to take on a first-tier girl for a short time.

- Maybe the police? I was told there are a lot of vacancies, but not everyone is hired immediately for a permanent job? I muttered, remembering Alex's words.

The vampire I was staring at shook his head and squinted at the werewolf.

- Oh, does the girl like tough guys? the big man murmured, moving closer to the table and folding his large hands in front of him. He breathed strength.

They obviously flirted with me, not seriously, playfully. Logically, it was necessary to respond with an interested reaction. To show a man that he is attractive, to please the pride of the beast. But something about his actions made me nervous.

Prior to this, the whole conversation, the redhead did not show me any attention at all. He did not look like a frivolous womanizer. It seems that they are trying to catch me, to test the resistance to their "charm".

Guys are of little interest to me now. Work first, then everything else.

His eyes narrowed, but no offer came. We urgently need to squeeze! This may be my only chance to receive a distribution and still not be subject to the official gift system checks. What can take him...

- They say that you have permanent vacancies for mentalists in your rapid reaction units. This means not everyone is pulling, not everyone is on the shoulder. And practice for a couple of months is a great way to understand if I am suitable, if I am worthy.

The man chuckled a little.

- Remind me what your name is? Evangeline? And you are a smart baby, you catch a chip. With such control, you must have a strong psyche, the very thing for our work. We do not give temporary work, but a mentalist fell ill in one of the Night Detachments. Occupational cold, bullets blew a little. But it is not important. How are you, Evangeline, by the way, with the night vigils?

“I’m an owl,” she exhaled soulfully, wide-eyed, “I can’t sleep at night at all. And I didn't sleep today.

"He's telling the truth," muttered the old woman with the pointy ears.

I managed to get scared, realizing my grandmother’s level, no matter how fifth or sixth, and that she could “count” me with her abilities, but the redhead did not give me time to be frightened, but slapped a copper seal that came from nowhere on my sheet.

- We take a couple of months, and then we'll see.

Yes Yes! I managed!

He extended a wide hand across the table for me to shake, and I grabbed it with relief.

Hot touch, calluses on fingers. This night I felt similar. The same ... confident, strong ...

For a second, I was interrupted by a flashing image from my memory. About other hands. I started. It was very difficult to keep a neutral expression on my face, but I think I succeeded. At least I calmly signed the distribution, said goodbye to the members of the commission, thanked the werewolf.

The redhead looked at me thoughtfully. For new learners. I hope he didn't mistake the sudden shudder at the involuntary memory for some special female reaction. According to rumors, the nuances of touch for werewolves meant too much, you have to be careful.

I went out into the corridor, where classmates crowded, quite cheerfully, I was even able to name the next one and close the door behind him.

And then my legs gave way, and I just slid down the wall.