Luce thought back to the girl Cam had shot with the silver arrow, to the good-looking empty-eyed boy in the diner. "Because they're blind."
Daniel looked down at his hands, rubbing his ngers together. He looked as if he might be sick. "Blind but very brutal." He reached up and traced one of her blond curls with his nger. "You were smart to dye your hair. It kept you safe when I couldn't get there fast enough."
"Smart?" Luce was horri ed. "Dawn could have died because I got my hands on a cheap bottle of bleach. How is that smart? If ... if I dyed my hair black tomorrow, you mean the Outcasts would suddenly be able to nd me?"
Daniel shook his head roughly. "They shouldn't have found their way onto this campus at all. They should never have been able to get their hands on any of you. I am working night and day to keep them from you--from this whole school. Someone's aiding them, and I don't know who--"
"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 gured it out. A lot goes on here when you're not around."
A hint of envy ashed through Daniel's eyes. At rst, 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 ooded 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?
Chapter 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 o ce, waiting to be interrogated. Her o ce 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 stopdgeting.
" `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.