Torment - Lauren Kate [100]
“Cam.” What else would he have been doing here?
But Daniel shook his head. “Whoever it is will regret it.”
Luce crossed her arms over her chest. Her face still felt hot from crying. “I guess this means I don’t get to go home for Thanksgiving?” She closed her eyes, trying not to picture her parents’ crestfallen faces. “Don’t answer that.”
“Please.” Daniel’s voice was so earnest. “It’s only for a little while longer.”
She nodded. “The truce timeline.”
“What?” His hands gripped her shoulders tightly. “How did you—”
“I know.” Luce hoped he couldn’t feel that her body had begun to tremble. It got worse when she tried to act more assured than she felt. “And I know that at some point soon, you will tip the balance between Heaven and Hell.”
“Who told you that?” Daniel was arching his shoulders back, which she knew meant he was trying to keep his wings from unfurling.
“I figured it out. A lot goes on here when you’re not around.”
A hint of envy flashed through Daniel’s eyes. At first, it felt almost good to be able to provoke that in him, but Luce didn’t want to make him jealous. Especially with so many bigger things at hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The last thing you need right now is me distracting you. What you’re doing … it sounds like a pretty big deal.”
She left it at that, hoping Daniel would feel comfortable enough to tell her more. This was the most open, honest, and mature conversation they’d had, maybe ever.
But then, too soon, the cloud she hadn’t even known she’d been dreading passed over Daniel’s face. “Put all of that out of your head. You don’t know what you think you know.”
Disappointment flooded through Luce’s body. He was still treating her like a child. One step forward, ten steps back.
She gathered her feet under her and stood up on the ledge.
“I know one thing, Daniel,” she said, staring down at him. “If it were me, there wouldn’t be a question. If it were me the whole universe was waiting on to tip the scales, I would just pick the side of good.”
Daniel’s violet eyes stared straight ahead, into the shadowy forest.
“You would just pick good,” he repeated. His voice sounded both numb and desperately sad. Sadder than she’d ever heard him sound before.
Luce had to resist the urge to crouch down and apologize. Instead, she turned, leaving Daniel behind her. Wasn’t it obvious that he was supposed to pick good? Wouldn’t anyone?
FOURTEEN
FIVE DAYS
Someone had ratted them out.
On Sunday morning, while the rest of the campus was still eerily calm, Shelby, Miles, and Luce sat in a row on one side of Francesca’s office, waiting to be interrogated. Her office was larger than Steven’s—brighter, too, with a high, sloping ceiling and three large windows facing the forest to the north, each with thick lavender velvet curtains, parted to show a shocking blue sky. A large framed photograph of a galaxy, hanging over the tall marble-topped desk, was the only piece of art in the room. The baroque chairs they sat on were chic but uncomfortable. Luce couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“ ‘Anonymous tip,’ my ass,” Shelby muttered, quoting the harsh email they’d each received from Francesca this morning. “This immature tattling reeks of Lilith.”
Luce didn’t think it was possible that Lilith—or any of the students, really—would have known they’d left campus. Someone else had looped their teachers in.
“What’s taking them so long?” Miles nodded toward Steven’s office on the other side of the wall, where they could hear their teachers arguing in low voices. “It’s like they’re coming up with a punishment before they’ve even heard our side of the story!” He bit his lower lip. “What is our side of the story, by the way?”
But Luce wasn’t listening. “I really don’t see what’s so difficult,” she said under her breath, more to herself than the others. “You just pick a side and move on.”
“Huh?” Miles and Shelby said in unison.
“Sorry,” Luce said. “It’s just … you know what Arriane was saying about tipping the scales