in her class of almost-angels, waiting until her angel felt like swooping back in to save
her.
"Luce," Miles said, interrupting her thoughts. "The reason people stare at you is
because everyone's heard about you and Daniel, but no one knows the real story."
"So instead of just asking me--"
"What? Whether you two really do it on the clouds? Or whether his rampant, ya
know, 'glory' ever overwhelms your mortal"--he stopped, catching the horrified look on
Luce's face, then gulped. "Sorry. I mean, you're right, they let it blow up into some big
myth. Everyone else, that is. I try not to, um, speculate." Miles put down his tea and
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stared at his napkin. "Maybe it feels too personal to ask about."
Miles shifted his gaze and was now staring at her, but it didn't make Luce feel
nervous. Instead, his clear blue eyes and slightly lopsided smile felt like an open door, an
invitation to talk about some of the things she hadn't been able to tell anyone yet. As
much as it sucked, Luce understood why Daniel and Mr. Cole had forbidden her to reach
out to Callie or her parents. But Daniel and Mr. Cole were the ones who had enrolled her
at Shoreline. They were the ones who'd said she'd be okay here. So she couldn't see any
reason to keep her story a secret from someone like Miles. Especially since he already
knew some version of the truth.
"It's a long story," she said. "Literally. And I still don't know all of it. But
basically, Daniel is an important angel. I guess he was kind of a big deal before the Fall."
She swallowed, not wanting to meet Miles's eyes. She felt nervous. "At least, he was until
he fell in love with me."
It all began to pour out of her. Everything from her first day at Sword & Cross, to
how Arriane and Gabbe took care of her, to how Molly and Cam taunted her, to the gutwrenching feeling of seeing a photograph of herself in a former life. Penn's death and
how it devastated her. The surreal battle in the cemetery. Luce left out some of the Daniel
details, private moments they'd shared together ... but by the time she finished, she
thought she'd given Miles a pretty complete picture of what had happened--and hopefully
dispelled the myth of her intrigue for at least one person.
At the end, she felt lighter. "Wow. I've never actually told this stuff to anyone.
Feels really good to say it aloud. Like it's more real now that I've admitted it to someone
else."
"You can keep going if you want to," he said.
"I know I'm only here for a short time," she said. "And in a way, I think Shoreline
will help me to get used to people--I mean angels like Daniel. And Nephilim like you.
But I still can't help feeling out of place. Like I'm posing as something I'm not."
Miles had been nodding and agreeing with Luce the whole time she told her story,
but now he shook his head. "No way--the fact that you're mortal makes the whole thing
even more impressive."
Luce glanced around the terrace. For the first time, she noticed a clear line
dividing the tables of the Nephilim kids from the rest of the student body. The Nephilim
claimed all the tables on the west side, closest to the water. There were fewer of them, no
more than twenty, but they took up a lot more tables, sometimes with just one kid at a
table that could have seated six, while the rest of the kids had to cram into the remaining
east-side tables. Take Shelby, for example, who sat alone, battling the fierce wind over
the paper she was trying to read. There was a lot of musical chairs, but not one of the
non-Nephilim seemed to consider crossing over to sit with the "gifted" kids.
Luce had met some of the other non-gifted kids yesterday. After lunch, classes
were held in the main building, a much less architecturally impressive structure where
more traditional subjects were taught. Biology, geometry, European history. Some of
those students seemed nice, but Luce felt an unspoken distance--all because she was on
the gifted track--that thwarted the possibility of a conversation.
"Don't get me wrong, I've gotten to be friends with some of those guys." Miles
pointed to a crowded table. "I'd pick Connor or Eddie G. for a game of touch football any
day over any of the Nephilim. But seriously, do you think anyone over there could have
39
handled what you did, and lived to tell about it?"
Luce rubbed her neck and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Miss Sophia's
dagger was still fresh in her mind, and she could never think about that night without her
heart aching over Penn. Her death had been so senseless. None of it was fair. "I barely
lived," she said softly.
"Yeah," Miles said, wincing. "That part I heard about. It's weird: Francesca and