remaining east- side tables. Take Shelby, for example, who sat alone, battling the erce wind over the paper she was trying to read. There was a lot of musical chairs, but not one of the non-Nephilim seemed to consider crossing over to sit with the "gifted" kids.
Luce had met some of the other non-gifted kids yesterday. After lunch, classes were held in the main building, a much less architecturally impressive structure where more traditional subjects were taught. Biology, geometry, European history. Some of those students seemed nice, but Luce felt an unspoken distance--all because she was on the gifted track--that thwarted the possibility of a conversation.
"Don't get me wrong, I've gotten to be friends with some of those guys." Miles pointed to a crowded table. "I'd pick Connor or Eddie G. for a game of touch football any day over any of the Nephilim. But seriously, do you think anyone over there could have handled what you did, and lived to tell about it?"
Luce rubbed her neck and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Miss Sophia's dagger was still fresh in her mind, and she could never think about that night without her heart aching over Penn. Her death had been so senseless. None of it was fair. "I barely lived," she said softly.
"Yeah," Miles said, wincing. "That part I heard about. It's weird: Francesca and Steven are big on teaching us about the present and the future, but not really the past. Something to do with empowering us." but not really the past. Something to do with empowering us."
"What do you mean?"
"Ask me anything about the great battle that's coming, and the role a strapping young Nephilim like myself might play in it. But the early stu you were talking about? None of the lessons here ever really go into that. Speaking of which"--Miles pointed at the terrace, which was emptying out--"we should go. You want to do this again sometime?"
"De nitely." And Luce meant it; she liked Miles. He was much easier to talk to than anyone else she'd met so far. He was friendly and had the kind of sense of humor that put Luce instantly at ease. But she was distracted by something he'd said. The battle that was coming. Daniel and Cam's battle. Or a battle with Miss Sophia's group of Elders? If even the Nephilim were preparing for it, where did that leave Luce?
Steven and Francesca had a way of dressing in complementary colors that made them look better out tted for a photo shoot than a lecture. On Luce's second day at Shoreline, Francesca was wearing three-inch golden gladiator heels and a mod pumpkin-colored A-line dress. It had a loose bow around her neck and matched, almost exactly, the orange tie that Steven wore with his ivory oxford shirt and navy blazer.
They were stunning to look at, and Luce was drawn to them, but not exactly in the couples-crush way Dawn had predicted the day before. Watching her teachers from her desk between Miles and Jasmine, Luce felt drawn to Francesca and Steven for reasons closer to her heart: They reminded her of her relationship with Daniel.
Though she'd never seen them actually touch, when they stood close together--which was almost always--the magnetism between them practically warped the walls. Of course that had something to do with their powers as fallen angels, but it must also have had to do with the unique way they connected. Luce couldn't help resenting them. They were constant reminders of what she couldn't have right now.
Most of the students had taken their seats. Dawn and Jasmine were going on to Luce about joining the steering committee so she could help them plan all these amazing social events. Luce had never been a big extracurricular girl. But these girls had been so nice to her, and Jasmine's face looked so bright when she talked about a yacht trip they were planning later that week that Luce decided to give the committee a chance. She was adding her name to the roster when Steven stepped forward, tossed his blazer on the table behind him, and wordlessly spread his arms out at his sides.
As if summoned, a shard of deep black shadow seemed to part from the shadows of one of the redwoods right outside the window. It peeled itself o the grass, then took substance and whipped into the room through the open window. It was quick, and where it went the day blackened and the room