rest of you will watch."
Luce was relieved her own name hadn't been called. The more she saw of
Francesca and Steven's teaching method, the less she understood it. One intimidating
demonstration took the place of any real instruction. Not watch and learn, but straight to
watch and excel. As the first six students took their places on the deck, Luce felt huge
pressure to pick up the entire art of fencing right away.
" En garde! " Shelby bellowed, lunging backward into a squat with the tip of her
110
sword just inches from Dawn, whose sword was still sheathed.
Dawn's fingers were zigzagging through her short black hair, pinning sections of
it back with a brimming handful of butterfly clips. "You can't en-garde me while I'm
prepping for battle, Shelby!" Her high voice got even higher when she was frustrated.
"What were you, raised by wolves?" she huffed through the last plastic barrette between
her teeth. "Okay," she said, drawing her sword. "Now I'm ready."
Shelby, who had been holding her deep lunge throughout Dawn's primp session,
now straightened up and looked down at her rough nail beds. "Wait, do I have time for a
manicure?" she said, psyching Dawn out just long enough to allow her to drop into an
offensive stance and swing her sword around.
"How uncouth!" Dawn barked, but to Luce's surprise, she instantly ratcheted up
her swordsmanship, swishing her blade skillfully through the air and knocking Shelby's
aside. Dawn was a fencing badass.
Next to Luce, Jasmine was doubled over laughing. "A match made in Hell."
A smile had crept onto Luce's face, too, because she'd never met anyone as
unshakably upbeat as Dawn. At first, Luce had suspected phoniness, a facade--where
Luce came from, the South, that always-happy bit wouldn't have been real. But Luce had
been impressed by how quickly Dawn rebounded after that day on the yacht. Dawn's
optimism seemed to know no limits. By now, it was hard for Luce to be around the girl
without chuckling. And it was especially hard when Dawn was focusing her girly cheer
on beating the crap out of someone as bleakly opposite as Shelby.
Things between Luce and Shelby were still a little weird. She knew it, Shelby
knew it, even the Buddha night-light in their room seemed to know it. The truth was,
Luce kind of enjoyed seeing Shelby fighting for her life while Dawn happily attacked
her.
Shelby was a steady, patient fighter. Where Dawn's technique was showy and
eye-catching, her limbs whirling in a virtual tango across the deck, Shelby was careful
with her lunges, almost as if she had only so many to ration out. She kept her knees bent
and never gave up anything.
Yet she'd said she had given up on Daniel after one night. Had been quick to say
it was because of Daniel's feelings for Luce--that they interfered with everything else. But
Luce didn't believe her. Something was weird about Shelby's confession; something
didn't match up with Daniel's reaction when Luce had almost-sort-of brought it up the
night before. He'd acted like there wasn't anything to tell.
A loud thump snapped Luce back to attention.
Across the deck, Miles had somehow landed on his back. Roland hovered over
him. Literally. He was flying.
The enormous wings that had unfurled from Roland's shoulders were as large as a
great cape and feathered like an eagle's, but with a beautiful golden marbling woven
through their dark pinions. He must have had the same slits cut into his fencing garb that
Daniel had in his T-shirt. Luce had never seen Roland's wings before, and like the other
Nephilim, she couldn't stop staring. Shelby had told her that only a very few Nephilim
had wings, and none of them went to Shoreline. Seeing Roland's come out in a battle,
even a practice swordfight, sent a ripple of nervous excitement through the crowd.
The wings commanded so much attention, it took Luce a moment to realize that
the tip of Roland's sword was hovering just over Miles's breastbone, pinning him to the
111
ground. Roland's bright white fencing suit and golden wings cut a stark silhouette against
the dark, lush trees bordering the deck. With his black mesh mask pulled down, Roland
looked even more intimidating, more menacing than if she'd been able to see his face.
She hoped his expression would look playful, because he really had Miles in a vulnerable
situation. Luce jumped to her feet to go to him, surprised to find her knees shaking.
"Ohmigod Miles!" Dawn called out from across the deck, forgetting her own battle
just long enough for Shelby to go in with a whip-over, touch Dawn's unshielded chest,
and score the winning point.
"Not the most sportsmanlike way to win," Shelby said, sheathing her sword. "But
sometimes that's the way it goes."