to the left of the steps, a trail led away. Daniel took her hand and moved to the cli 's edge.
"Where are we going?" Luce asked.
Daniel smiled at her, straightening his shoulders, and unfurled his wings.
Slowly, they extended up and out from his shoulders, unfolding with an almost inaudible series of soft snaps and creaks. Fully exed, they made a gentle, feathery fwump like a duvet being ung over a bed.
For the rst time, Luce noticed the back of Daniel's t-shirt. There were two tiny, otherwise invisible slits, which parted now to let his wings slip through. Did all of Daniel's clothes have these angelic alterations? Or did he have certain, special things he wore when he knew he planned on
ying?
Either way, his wings never failed to leave Luce speechless.
They were enormous, rising three times taller than Daniel, and curved up into the sky and to either side like broad white sails. Their broad expanse caught the light of the stars and re ected it more intensely, so that they glowed with an iridescent shimmer. Near his body they darkened, shading into a rich earthy cream color where they met his shoulder muscles. But along their tapered edges, they grew thin and glowed, becoming almost translucent at the tips.
Luce stared at them, rapt, trying to remember the line of every glorious feather, to hold all of it inside her for when he went away. He shone so bright, the sun could have borrowed light from him. The smile in his violet eyes told her how good it felt for him to let his wings out. As good as Luce felt when she was wrapped up in them.
"Fly with me," he whispered.
"What?"
"I'm not going to see you for a little while. I have to give you something to remember me by."
Luce kissed him before he could say anything else, lacing her ngers around his neck, holding him as tightly as she could, hoping to give him something to remember her by, too.
With her back pressed to his chest, and his head over her shoulder, Daniel traced a line of kisses down her neck. She held her breath, waiting. Then he bent his legs and gracefully pushed o the edge of the cli .
They were ying.
Away from the rocky ledge of the coastline, over the crashing silver waves below, arcing across the sky as if they were soaring for the moon. Daniel's embrace shielded her from every rough gust of wind, every brush of ocean chill. The night was absolutely quiet. As if they were the only two people left in the world.
"This is Heaven, isn't it?" she asked.
Daniel laughed. "I wish it were. Maybe one day soon."
When they had own out far enough that they couldn't see land on either side of them, Daniel banked gently north, and they swooped in a wide arc past the city of Mendocino, which glowed warmly on the horizon. They were far above the tallest building in town and moving incredibly fast. But Luce had never felt safer or more in love in her life.
And then, all too soon, they were descending, gradually nearing a di erent cli 's edge. The sounds of the ocean grew louder again. A dark single- lane road wound o the main highway. When their feet touched down lightly on a cool patch of thick grass, Luce sighed.
"Where are we?" she asked, though of course she already knew.
The Shoreline School. She could see a large building in the distance, but from here it looked completely dark, merely a shape on the horizon. Daniel held her pressed to him, as if they were still in the air. She craned her head around to look at his expression. His eyes were damp.
"The ones who damned me are still watching, Luce. They have been for millennia. And they don't want us to be together. They will do anything they can to stop us. That's why it isn't safe for me to stay here."
She nodded, her eyes stinging. "But why am I here?"
"Because I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, and this is the best place for you now. I love you, Luce. More than anything. I'll be back to you as soon as I can."
She wanted to protest, but stopped herself. He'd given up everything for her. When he let her out of his embrace, he opened his palm and a small red shape inside it began to grow. Her du el bag. He'd taken it from the back