Torment - Lauren Kate [31]
“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