Fallen 2. Torment(20)

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

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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