about saving her life. Right after he told her not to leave campus again.
Such a weird thing to say. Almost like he and Daniel were in cahoots.
Stalling, Luce sat on the edge of her bed. "So we're all going?"
She'd never broken a promise to Daniel before. Even though she'd never really
promised not to go on the yacht. The restriction felt so harsh and out of line, her instinct
was to blow it off. But if she agreed to play by Daniel's rules, maybe she wouldn't have to
face someone else's getting killed. Though that was probably just her paranoia rearing up
again. That note had deliberately lured her off campus. A school yacht trip was
something else entirely. It wasn't as though the Outcasts were piloting the boat.
"Of course we're all going." Miles grabbed Luce's hand, pulling her to her feet and
toward the door. "Why wouldn't we?"
This was the moment of choice: Luce could stay safely on campus the way Daniel
(and Cam) had told her. Like a prisoner. Or she could walk out this door and prove to
herself that her life was her own.
Half an hour later, Luce was staring, along with half of Shoreline's student body,
at a shining white 130-foot Austal luxury yacht.
The air up at Shoreline had been clearer, but down on the water at the marina
adjacent to the docks, there was still a thin felt of fog left over from the day before. When
Francesca descended from the bus, she muttered, "Enough is enough," and raised her
palms in the air.
Very casually, as if she were pushing aside curtains from a window, she literally
parted the fog with her fingers, opening up a rich plane of clear sky directly over the
gleaming boat.
It was done so subtly, none of the non-Nephilim students or teachers could tell
that anything other than nature was at work. But Luce gaped, not sure she had just seen
what she thought she had seen until Dawn started clapping very quietly.
"Stunning, as usual."
Francesca smiled slightly. "Yes, that's better, isn't it?"
Luce was beginning to notice all the small touches that could have been the work
of an angel. The chartered coach ride had been so much smoother than the public bus
she'd taken in the rain the day before. The storefronts seemed refreshed, as if the whole
town had gotten a new coat of paint.
The students lined up to board the yacht, which was dazzling in the way very
68
expensive things were. Its sleek profile curved like a seashell, and each of its three levels
had its own broad white deck. From where they entered on the foredeck, Luce could see
through the enormous windows into three plushly furnished cabins. In the warm, still
sunshine down at the marina, Luce's worries about Cam and the Outcasts seemed
ridiculous. She was surprised to feel them melt away.
She followed Miles into the cabin on the second level of the yacht. The walls
were a sedate taupe, with long black-and-white banquettes hugging the curved walls. A
half dozen students had already thrown themselves down on the upholstered benches and
were picking at the huge array of food that covered the coffee tables.
At the bar, Miles popped open a can of Coke, split it between two plastic glasses,
and handed one to Luce. "So the demon says to the angel: ' Sueme? Where do you think
you're going to have to go to find a lawyer?' " He nudged her. "Get it? 'Cause lawyers are
supposed to all ..."
A punch line. Her mind had been elsewhere and she'd missed the fact that Miles
had even been telling a joke. She forced herself to crack up, laughing loudly, even
slapping the top of the bar. Miles looked relieved, if not a little suspicious of her
overblown reaction.
"Wow," Luce said, feeling crummy as she scaled back her fake laughter. "That
was a good one."
To their left, Lilith, the tall redheaded triplet Luce had met on the first day of
school, stopped the bite of tuna tartare on its way into her mouth. "What kind of lame
half-breed joke is that?" She was scowling mostly at Luce, her glossy lips set in a snarl.
"You actually think that's funny? Have you ever even been to the underworld? It's no
laughing matter. We expect that from Miles, but I would have thought you had better
taste."
Luce was taken aback. "I didn't realize it was a question of taste," she said. "In
that case, I'm definitely sticking with Miles."
"Shhhh." Francesca's manicured hands were suddenly on both Luce's and Lilith's
shoulders. "Whatever this is about, remember: You're on a ship with seventy-three nonNephilim students. The word of the day is discretion."
That was still one of the weirdest parts about Shoreline as far as Luce was
concerned. All the time they spent with the regular kids at the school, pretending they
weren't doing whatever it was they were actually doing inside the Nephilim lodge. Luce