Fallen 2. Torment(35)

see him?"

"Don't sound so shocked. We are together." It was like Cam still hadn't gotten

over that she'd picked Daniel instead of him.

Cam scratched his forehead, looking concerned. When he finally spoke, his words

were rushed. "Did he send for you? Luce?"

She winced, buckling under the pressure of his gaze. "I got a letter."

"Let me see it."

Now Luce stiffened, examining Cam's peculiar expression to try to understand

what he knew. He looked about as uneasy as she felt. She didn't budge.

"You were tricked. Grigori wouldn't send for you right now."

"You don't know what he would do for me." Luce turned away, wishing Cam had

never seen her, wishing herself far away. She felt a childish need to brag to Cam that

Daniel had visited her last night. But the bragging would end there. There wasn't much

glory in relaying the details of their argument.

"I know he would die if you died, Luce. If you want to live another day, you'd

better show me the letter."

"You would kill me over a piece of paper?"

"I wouldn't, but whoever sent you that note probably intends to."

"What?" Feeling it almost burning in her pocket, Luce resisted the urge to thrust

the letter into his hands. Cam didn't know what he was talking about. He couldn't. But the

longer he stared at her, the more she began to wonder about the strange letter she was

holding. That bus ticket, the directions. It had been weirdly technical and formulaic. Not

like Daniel at all. She fished it out of her pocket, fingers trembling.

Cam snatched it from her, grimacing as he read. He muttered something under his

breath as his eyes darted around the forest on the other side of the road. Luce looked

around too, but she could see nothing suspicious about the few remaining fishermen

loading their gear into rusty truck beds.

"Come on," he said finally, grabbing her by the elbow. "It's past time to get you

back to school."

She jerked away. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I hate you. What are you

even doing here?"

He stepped around her in a circle. "I'm hunting."

She sized him up, trying not to let on that he still made her nervous. Slim, punkrock-dressed, gunless Cam. "Really?" She cocked her head. "Hunting what?"

Cam stared past her, toward the dusk-swept forest. He nodded once. "Her."

Luce craned her neck to see who or what Cam was talking about, but before she

could see anything, he pushed her sharply. There was a weird huff of air, and something

silver zipped past her face.

"Get down!" Cam yelled, pressing hard on Luce's shoulders. She sank to the

porch floor, feeling his weight on top of her, smelling the dust on the wood planks.

62

"Get off me!" she shouted. As she writhed in disgust, cold fear pressed into her.

Whoever was out there must be really bad. Otherwise she'd never be in a situation where

Cam was the one protecting her.

A moment later, Cam was sprinting across the empty parking lot. He was racing

toward a girl. A very pretty girl about Luce's age, dressed in a long brown cloak. She had

delicate features and white-blond hair pulled high into a ponytail, but something was

strange about her eyes. They held a vacant expression that, even from this distance,

struck Luce rigid with fear.

There was more: The girl was armed. She held a silver bow and was hurriedly

nocking an arrow.

Cam barreled forward, his feet crunching on the gravel lot as he moved straight

toward the girl, whose bizarre silver bow gleamed even in the fog. Like it was not of this

earth.

Wresting her eyes away from the lunatic girl with the arrow, Luce rolled to her

knees and scanned the parking lot to see whether anyone else looked as panicked as she

felt. But the place was empty, eerily quiet.

Her lungs felt tight--she could hardly breathe. The girl moved almost like a

machine, with no hesitation. And Cam was unarmed. The girl was pulling back on the

bowstring and Cam was in point-blank range.

But it took her a split second too long. Cam plowed into her, knocking her onto

her back. He brutally wrestled the bow out of her hands, snapping his elbow against her

face until she let go. The girl yelped--a high, innocent sound--and recoiled on the ground

as Cam turned the bow on her. She raised her open hand in supplication.

Then Cam loosed the arrow straight into her heart.

Across the parking lot, Luce cried out and bit down on her fist. Though she

wanted to be far, far away, she found herself lumbering to her feet and jogging closer.

Something was wrong. Luce expected to find the girl lying there bleeding, but this girl

did not struggle, did not cry.

Because she was no longer there at all.

She, and the arrow that Cam had shot into her, had vanished.