Torment (9 page)

It struck Luce that she’d been at Shoreline for three days, with the ocean always visible, the waves always audible, the salt air always coating everything, but she still hadn’t set foot on the beach. And it wasn’t like at Sword & Cross, where a laundry list of things were off-limits. She didn’t know why it hadn’t even occurred to her.

She shook her head.

“About all you can do with a beach that cold is build a bonfire.” Roland glanced at her. “You made any friends here yet?”

Luce shrugged. “A few.”

“Bring them by tonight, after dark.” He pointed to a narrow peninsula of sand at the foot of the rocky stairs. “Right down there.”

She peered at Roland sideways. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

Roland grinned devilishly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it innocent. But you know how it is. I’m new in town; I’d like to make my presence known.”

“
Dude
. Stomp down on my heel one more time, and I’m seriously going to have to break your ankle.”

“Maybe if you weren’t hogging the
entire
beam of the flashlight up there, Shel, the rest of us could see where we were going.”

Luce tried to stifle her laugh as she followed a bickering Miles and Shelby across campus in the dark. It was almost eleven, and Shoreline was pitch-black and silent, except for the hoot of an owl. An orange gibbous moon was low in the sky, cloaked by a veil of fog. Between the three of them, they’d only been able to come up with one flashlight (Shelby’s), so only one of them (Shelby) had a clear view of the path down to the water. For the other two, the grounds—which had seemed so lush and well tended in the daylight—were now booby-trapped with fallen bristlecones, thick-rooted ferns, and the backs of Shelby’s feet.

When Roland had asked her to bring some friends tonight, Luce had gotten a sinking feeling in her stomach. There were no hall monitors at Shoreline, no terrifying security cameras recording the students’ every move, so it wasn’t the threat of getting caught that made her nervous. In fact, sneaking out of the dorm had been relatively easy. It was drawing a crowd that was a bigger challenge.

Dawn and Jasmine seemed like the most likely candidates for a party on the beach, but when Luce went by their fifth-floor room, the hallway was dark and no one answered her knock. Back in her own room, Shelby had been tangled up in some sort of tantric yoga pose that hurt Luce just to look at. Luce hadn’t wanted to break her roommate’s fierce concentration by inviting her to some unknown party—but then a loud knock at their door had made Shelby fall crossly from her pose anyway.

Miles, asking Luce if she wanted to get some ice cream.

Luce looked back and forth between Miles and Shelby and smiled. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Ten minutes later, bundled up in hooded sweatshirts, a backward Dodgers cap (Miles), and wool socks with individual toe shapes sewn in so she could still wear her flip-flops (Shelby), and with a nervous feeling in the gut about mingling Roland with the Shoreline crew (Luce), the three of them tramped toward the bluff’s edge.

“So who is this guy again?” Miles asked, pointing out a dip in the rocky path just before Luce would have gone flying.

“He’s just … a guy from my last school.” Luce searched for a better description as the three of them started down the rocky stairs. Roland wasn’t exactly her friend. And even though kids at Shoreline seemed pretty open-minded, she wasn’t sure she should tell them which side of the fallen angel divide Roland fell on. “He was friends with Daniel,” she said finally. “It’ll probably be a pretty small party. I don’t think he knows anyone here but me.”

They could smell it before they could see it: the telltale hickory smoke of a good-sized bonfire. Then, when they were almost at the foot of the steep stairs, they wound around a bend in the rocks and froze as the sparks from a wild orange blaze finally came into view.

There must have been a hundred people gathered on the beach.

The wind was wild, like an untamed animal, but it was no match for the rowdiness of the partygoers. At one end of the gathering, closest to where Luce stood, a crowd of hippie guys with long, thick beards and ratty woven shirts had formed a makeshift drum circle. Their steady beat provided a nearby group of kids with a constantly changing groove to dance to. At the other end of the party was the bonfire itself, and when Luce stood on her toes, she recognized a lot of Shoreline kids crowded around the fire, hoping to beat out the cold. Everyone was holding a stick in the flames, jockeying for the best spot to roast their hot dogs and marshmallows, their cast-iron kettles full of beans. It was impossible to guess how they’d all found out about it, but it was clear that everyone was having a good time.

And in the middle of it all, Roland. He’d changed out of his pressed button-down shirt and expensive leather boots and was dressed, like everyone else there, in a hooded sweatshirt and shredded jeans. He was standing on a boulder, making riotous, exaggerated gestures, telling a story Luce couldn’t quite hear. Dawn and Jasmine were among the captivated listeners; their fire-lit faces looked pretty and alive.

“This is your idea of a small party?” Miles asked.

Luce was watching Roland, wondering what story he was telling. Something about the way he was taking charge made Luce think back to Cam’s room, to the first and only real party she’d ever gone to at Sword & Cross, and it made her miss Arriane. And, of course, Penn, who’d been nervous when she first arrived at the party but ended up having a better time than anyone. And Daniel, who would barely speak to Luce back then. Things were so different now.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys,” Shelby said, kicking off her flip-flops and padding onto the sand in her socks, “but I’m going to get myself a drink, then a hot dog, then maybe a lesson from one of those drum circle guys.”

“Me too,” Miles said. “Except for the drum circle part, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Luce.” Roland waved from his position on the boulder. “You made it.”

Miles and Shelby were already way ahead of her, heading toward the hot dog station, so Luce trekked over a dune of cool, damp sand toward Roland and the others.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to make your presence known. This is really something, Roland.”

Roland nodded graciously. “Something, huh? Something good, or something bad?”

It seemed like a loaded question, and what Luce wanted to say was that she couldn’t tell anymore. She thought about the heated conversation she’d overheard in the teacher’s office. How sharp Francesca’s voice had sounded. The line between what was good and what was bad felt incredibly blurry. Roland and Steven were fallen angels who’d gone over. Demons, right? Did she even know what that meant? But then there was Cam, and … what did Roland mean by that question? She squinted at him. Maybe he was really only asking whether Luce was having fun?

A myriad of colorful partygoers swirled around her, but Luce could feel the endless black waves nearby. The air near the water was whipping and cold, but the bonfire was hot on her skin. So many things seemed to be at odds right now, all shoving up against her at once.

“Who are all these people, Roland?”

“Let’s see.” Roland pointed at the hippie kids in the drum circle. “Townies.” To their right, he gestured at a big group of guys trying to impress a much smaller group of girls with a few very bad thrusting dance moves. “Those guys are marines stationed in Fort Bragg. From the way they’re partying, I hope they’re on leave for the weekend.” When Jasmine and Dawn sidled up next to him, Roland put one arm around each of their shoulders. “These two, I believe you know.”

“You didn’t tell us you were such big friends with the celestial social director, Luce,” Jasmine said.

“Seriously.” Dawn leaned in to whisper loudly to Luce, “Only my diary knows how many times I’ve wished to go to a Roland Sparks party. And my diary will never tell.”

“Oh, but I might,” Roland joked.

“Is there no relish at this party?” Shelby popped up behind Luce with Miles at her side. She was holding two hot dogs in one hand and stuck out her free one to Roland. “Shelby Sterris. Who are you?”

“Shelby Sterris,” Roland repeated. “I’m Roland Sparks. You ever live in East L.A.? Have we met before?”

“No.”

“She has a photographic memory,” Miles supplied, slipping Luce a veggie hot dog, which was not her favorite, but a nice gesture nonetheless. “I’m Miles. Cool party, by the way.”

“Very cool,” Dawn agreed, swaying with Roland to the drumbeat.

“What about Steven and Francesca?” Luce had to practically shout to Shelby. “Won’t they hear us down here?” It was one thing to sneak out under the radar. It was another to plant a sonic boom directly on that radar.

Jasmine glanced back toward the campus. “They’ll hear us, sure, but our leash is pretty long at Shoreline. At least for the Nephilim kids. As long as we stay on campus, under their umbrella of surveillance, we can pretty much do as we please.”

“Does that include a limbo contest?” Roland grinned impishly, producing a long, thick branch from behind him. “Miles, you going to hold the other end for me?”

Seconds later, the branch was raised, the drumbeat changed, and it seemed like the whole party had dropped what they were doing to form one long, animated limbo line.

“Luce,” Miles called to her. “You’re not just going to stand there, are you?”

She studied the crowd, feeling stiff and rooted to her spot in the sand. But Dawn and Jasmine were making an opening for her to squeeze into line between the two of them. Already in competition mode—probably born in competition mode—Shelby was stretching out her back. Even the buttoned-up marine guys were going to play.

“Fine.” Luce laughed and got in line.

Once the game began, the line moved quickly; for three rounds, Luce shimmied easily under the branch. The fourth time, she made it under with only a little trouble, having to tilt her chin back far enough to see the stars, and got a round of cheers for doing so. Soon she was cheering on the other kids too, only a little surprised to find herself jumping up and down when Shelby made it through. There was something amazing about arching out of the limbo stance after a successful turn—the whole party seemed to feed off it. Each time, it gave Luce a surprising rush of adrenaline.

Having fun wasn’t usually such a simple thing. For so long, laughter had usually been closely followed by guilt, some nagging feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be enjoying herself for one reason or another. But somehow tonight she felt lighter. Without even realizing it, she’d been able to shrug off the darkness.

By the time Luce looped around for her fifth turn, the line was significantly shorter. Half the kids at the party had already gotten out, and everyone was crowded around either Miles or Roland, watching the last kids standing. At the back of the line, Luce was giddy and a little light-headed, so the hard grip she felt on her arm almost made her lose her balance.

She started to scream, then felt fingers clamp over her mouth.

“Shhh.”

Daniel was tugging her out of line and away from the party. His strong, warm hand sliding down her neck, his lips brushing the side of her cheek. For just a moment, the touch of his skin on hers, coupled with the bright violet glow of his eyes, and her days-old rising need to grab hold of him and never let go—it all made Luce divinely dizzy.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. She meant to say
Thank God you’re here
or
It’s been so hard to be apart
or what she really meant,
I love you
. But there were also
You abandoned me
and
I thought it
wasn’t safe
and
What’s this about a truce?
all knocking around in her brain.

“I had to see you,” he said. As he led her behind a large volcanic rock on the beach, there was a conspiratorial smile on his face. The kind of smile that was contagious, finding its way onto Luce’s lips too. The kind of smile that acknowledged not just that they were breaking Daniel’s rule—but that they were enjoying doing it.

“When I got close enough to see this party, I noticed everyone dancing,” he said. “And I got a little jealous.”

“Jealous?” Luce asked. They were alone now. She threw her arms around his broad shoulders and looked deep into his violet eyes. “Why would you be jealous?”

“Because,” he said, rubbing his hands across her back. “Your dance card is full. For all eternity.”

Daniel held her right hand in his, wrapped her left around his shoulder, and started a slow two-step in the sand. They could still hear the music from the party, but from this side of the rock it felt like a private concert. Luce closed her eyes and melted against his chest, finding the place where her head fit into his shoulder like a puzzle piece.

“No, this isn’t quite right,” Daniel said after a moment. He pointed down at her feet. She noticed he was barefoot. “Take off your shoes,” he said, “and I’ll show you how angels dance.”

Luce slipped off her black flats and tossed them aside on the beach. The sand between her toes was soft and cool. When Daniel pulled her close, her toes overlapped with his and she almost lost her balance, but his arms held her steady. When she looked down, her feet were on top of his. And when she looked up: the sight she yearned for night and day. Daniel unfurling his silver-white wings.