Her eye just happened to fall on Daniel, who was working. He was very diligently using a wire brush to scrub some mold off the bronze inscription on a tomb. He'd even pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, and Luce could see his muscles straining as he went at it. She sighed, and—she couldn't help it—leaned her elbow against the stone angel to watch him.
He's always been such a hard worker.
Luce quickly shook her head. Where had that come from? She had no idea what it meant. And yet, she'd been the one who'd thought it. It was the kind of phrase that sometimes formed in her mind just before she drifted into sleep. Senseless babble she could never assign to anything outside her dreams. But here she was, wide-awake.
She needed to get a handle on this Daniel thing. She'd known him for one day, and already, she could feel herself slipping into a very strange and unfamiliar place.
"Probably best to stay away from him," a cold voice behind her said.
Luce whipped around to find Molly, in the same pose she'd found her in yesterday: hands on her hips, pierced nostrils flaring. Penn had told her that Sword & Cross's surprising ruling that allowed facial piercings came from the headmaster's own reluctance to remove the diamond stud in his ear.
"Who?" she asked Molly, knowing she sounded stupid.
Molly rolled her eyes. "Just trust me when I tell you that falling for Daniel would be a very, very bad idea."
Before Luce could answer, Molly was gone. But Daniel—it was almost as if he'd heard his name—was looking straight at her. Then walking straight at her.
She knew the sun had gone behind a cloud. If she could break his stare, she could look up and see it for herself. But she couldn't look up, she couldn't look away, and for some reason, she had to squint to see him. Almost like Daniel was creating his own light, like he was blinding her. A hollow ringing noise filled up her ears, and her knees began to tremble.
She wanted to pick up her rake and pretend she didn't see him coming. But it was too late to play it cool.
"What'd she say to you?" he asked.
"Um," she hedged, racking her brain for a sensible lie. Finding nothing. She cracked her knuckles.
Daniel cupped his hand over hers. "I hate it when you do that."
Luce jerked away instinctively. His hand on hers had been so fleeting, yet she felt her face flush. He meant it was a pet peeve of his, that knuckle cracking from anyone would bother him, right? Because to say that he hated it when she did that implied that he'd seen her do it before. And he couldn't have. He barely knew her.
Then why did this feel like a fight they'd had before?
"Molly told me to stay away from you," she said finally.
Daniel tilted his head from side to side, seeming to consider this. "She's probably right."
Luce shivered. A shadow drifted over them, darkening the angel's face just long enough for Luce to worry. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe, praying Daniel couldn't tell anything was strange.
But the panic was rising inside her. She wanted to run. She couldn't run. What if she got lost in the cemetery?
Daniel followed her gaze toward the sky. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"So are you going to do it?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, a dare.
"What?" she said. Run?
Daniel took a step toward her. He was now less than a foot away. She held her breath. She kept her body completely still. She waited.
"Are you going to stay away from me?"
It almost sounded like he was flirting.
But Luce was completely out of sorts. Her brow was damp with sweat, and she squeezed her temples between two fingers, trying to regain possession of her body, trying to take it back from his control. She was totally unprepared to flirt back. That was, if what he was doing was actually flirting.
She took a step back. "I guess so."
"Didn't hear you," he whispered, cocking an eyebrow and taking another step closer.
Luce backed up again, farther this time. She practically slammed into the base of the statue, and could feel the gritty stone foot of the angel scraping her back. A second, darker, colder shadow whooshed over them. She could have sworn Daniel shivered along with her.
And then the deep groan of something heavy startled them both. Luce gasped as the top of the marble statue teetered over them, like a tree branch swaying in the breeze. For a second, it seemed to hover in the air.
Luce and Daniel stood staring at the angel. Both of them knew it was on its way down. The angel's head bowed slowly toward them, like it was praying—and then the whole statue picked up speed as it started hurtling down. Luce felt Daniel's hand wrap around her waist instantly, tightly, like he knew exactly where she began and where she ended. His other hand covered her head and forced her down just as the statue toppled over them. Right where they'd been standing. It landed with a massive crash—headfirst in the mud, with its feet still resting on the plinth, leaving a little triangle underneath, where Daniel and Luce crouched.