"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 ngers, 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 expensive things were. Its sleek pro le 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 co ee 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: `Sue me? Where do you think you're going to have to go to nd 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 rst 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 de nitely 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 non-Nephilim 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 still wanted to talk to Francesca about the Announcers, to bring up what she had done earlier that week in the woods.
Francesca glided away and Shelby shoved up next to Luce and Miles. "Exactly how discreet do you think I need to be while giving seventy-three non-Nephilim swirlies in the cabin toilets?"
"You're bad." Luce laughed, then did a double take when Shelby held out her plate of antipasti. "Look who's sharing," Luce said. "And you call yourself an only child."
Shelby jerked the plate back after Luce had helped herself to one olive. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it or anything."
When the engine revved beneath their feet, the whole boatful of students cheered. Luce preferred moments like this at Shoreline, when she really couldn't tell who was Nephilim and who wasn't. A line of girls braved the cold outside, laughing as their hair tumbled in the wind. Some of the guys from her history class were getting a game of poker together in one corner of the main cabin. That table was where Luce would have expected to nd Roland, but he was conspicuously absent.
Near the bar, Jasmine was taking pictures of the whole scene while Dawn motioned to Luce, miming with a pen and paper in the air that they Near the bar, Jasmine was taking pictures of the whole scene while Dawn motioned to Luce, miming with a pen and paper in the air that they still had to write out their speech. Luce was heading over to join them when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Steven through the windows.
He was by himself, leaning against the railing in a long black trench coat, a fedora capping his salt-and-pepper hair. It still made her nervous to think of him as a demon, especially because she genuinely liked him--or at least, what she knew of him. His relationship with Francesca confused her even more. They were such a unit: It reminded her of what Cam had said the night before about him and Daniel not being all that di erent. The comparison was still nagging at her as she slid open the tinted-glass door and stepped out on the deck.
All she could see on the westward side of the yacht was the endless blue on blue of ocean and clear sky. The water was calm, but a brisk wind tore around the sides of the boat. Luce had to hold on to the railing, squinting in the bright sunlight, shielding her eyes with her hand as she approached Steven. She didn't see Francesca anywhere.