Lauren Kate: Torment

A pause. Luce inched a little closer along the Persian rug in the hall.

“But she was.”

“I won’t sacrifice all the progress an entire class has made just because some, some—”

“Don’t be shortsighted, Francesca. We came up with a beautiful curriculum. I know that as well as you. Our students outperform every other Nephilim program in the world. You did all that. You have a right to feel a sense of pride. But things are different now.”

“Steven’s right, Francesca.” A third voice. Male. Luce thought it sounded familiar. But who was it? “Might as well throw your academic calendar out the window. The truce between our sides is the only timeline that matters anymore.”

Francesca sighed. “You really think—”

The unknown voice said, “If I know Daniel, he’ll be right on time. He’s probably counting down the minutes already.”

“There’s something else,” Steven said.

A pause, then what sounded like a drawer sliding open, then a gasp. Luce would have killed to be on the other side of the wall, to see what they could see.

“Where did you get that?” the other male voice asked. “Are you trading?”

“Of course he’s not!” Francesca sounded stung. “Steven found it in the forest during one of his rounds the other night.”

“It’s authentic, isn’t it?” Steven asked.

A sigh. “Been too long for me to say,” the stranger hedged. “I haven’t seen a starshot in ages. Daniel will know. I’ll take it to him.”

“That’s all? What do you suggest we do in the meantime?” Francesca asked.

“Look, this isn’t my thing.” The familiarity of that male voice was like an itch at the back of Luce’s brain. “And it’s really not my style—”

“Please,” Francesca pleaded.

The office was silent. Luce’s heart was pounding.

“Okay. If I were you? Step things up around here. Tighten their supervision and do everything you can to get all of them ready. End Times aren’t supposed to be very pretty.”

End Times. That was what Arriane had said would happen if Cam and his army won that night at Sword & Cross. But they hadn’t won. Unless there’d already been another battle. But then, what would the Nephilim need to get ready for?

The sound of heavy chair legs scraping along the floor made Luce jump back. She knew she should not be caught eavesdropping on this conversation. Whatever it was about.

For once, she was glad of the endless supply of mysterious alcoves in the Shoreline architecture. She ducked under a decorative wood-shingled cornice between two bookshelves and pressed herself into the recess of the wall.

A single set of footsteps exited the office, and the door closed firmly. Luce held her breath and waited for the figure to descend the stairs.

At first, she could see only his feet. Brown European leather boots. Then a pair of dark-wash jeans came into view as he curved around the banister toward the second story of the lodge. A blue-and-white-striped button-down shirt. And finally, the distinctly recognizable mane of black-and-gold dreadlocks.

Roland Sparks had turned up at Shoreline.

Luce jumped out from her hidden perch. She might still be on nervous best behavior in front of Francesca and Steven, who were dauntingly gorgeous and powerful and mature … and her teachers. But Roland didn’t intimidate her—not much, anyway—not anymore. Besides, he was the closest to Daniel she had been in days.

She slunk down the interior steps as silently as she could, then burst through the lodge door to the deck. Roland was moseying toward the ocean like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Roland!” she shouted, thundering down the last flight of stairs to the ground and breaking into a jog. He stood where the path ended and the bluff dropped down to steep and craggy rocks.

He was standing so still, looking out at the water. Luce was surprised to feel butterflies in her stomach when, very slowly, he began to turn around.

“Well, well.” He smiled. “Lucinda Price discovers peroxide.”

“Oh.” She clutched at her hair. How stupid she must look to him.

“No, no,” he said, stepping toward her, fluffing her hair with his fingers. “It suits you. A hard edge for hard times.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Enrolling.” He shrugged. “I just picked up my class schedule, met the teachers. Seems like a pretty sweet place.”

A woven knapsack was slung over one of his shoulders with something long and narrow and silver sticking out of it. Following her eyes, Roland switched the bag to his other shoulder and tightened the top flap with a knot.

“Roland.” Her voice quaked. “You left Sword and Cross? Why? What are you doing here?”

“Just needed a change of pace,” he offered cryptically.

Luce was going to ask about the others—Arriane and Gabbe. Even Molly. Whether anyone had noticed or cared that she’d left. But when she opened her mouth, what came out was very different from what she had expected. “What were you talking about in there with Francesca and Steven?”

Roland’s face changed suddenly, hardened into something older, less carefree. “That depends. How much did you hear?”

“Daniel. I heard you say that he … You don’t have to lie to me, Roland. How much longer until he comes back? Because I don’t think I can—”

“Come take a walk with me, Luce.”

As awkward as it would have felt for Roland Sparks to put his arm around her shoulders back at Sword & Cross, that was how comforting it was when he did it that day at Shoreline. They were never really friends, but he was a reminder of her past—a bond she couldn’t help turning to now.

They walked along the bluff’s edge, around the breakfast terrace, and along the west side of the dorms, past a rose garden Luce had never seen before. It was dusk and the water to their right was alive with colors, reflecting the rose and orange and violet clouds gliding in front of the sun.

Roland led her to a bench facing the water, far away from all the campus buildings. Looking down, she could see a rugged set of stairs carved into the rock, starting just below where they were sitting, and leading all the way down to the beach.

“What do you know that you aren’t saying?” Luce asked when the silence began to get to her.

“That water is fifty-one degrees,” Roland said.

“Not what I meant,” she said, looking him right in the eyes. “Did he send you here to watch over me?”

Roland scratched his head. “Look. Daniel’s off doing his thing.” He made a flitting motion at the sky. “In the meantime”—and she thought he cocked his head toward the forest behind the dorm—“you got your own thing to take care of.”

“What? No, I don’t have a thing. I’m just here because—”

“Bullshit.” He laughed. “We all have our secrets, Luce. Mine brought me to Shoreline. Yours has been leading you out to those woods.”

She started to protest, but Roland waved her off, that ever-cryptic look in his eyes.

“I’m not going to get you in trouble. In fact, I’m rooting for you.” His eyes moved past her, out to sea. “Now, back to that water. It’s frigid. Have you been in it? I know you like to swim.”

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?”