Fallen (29 page)

“I’ve been trying to keep busy, but …” Miss Sophia trailed off.

Penn glanced nervously at Luce. “Well, we might be able to use some help with our research, if, that is, you—”

“I can help!” Miss Sophia tugged over a third chair. “I see you’re looking into the Watchers,” she said, reading over their shoulders. “The Grigoris were a very influential clan. And I just happen to know of a papal database. Let me see what I can pull up.”

Luce nearly choked on the pencil she’d been chewing. “I’m sorry, did you say Grigoris?”

“Oh yes, historians have traced them back to the Middle Ages. They were …” She paused, searching for the words. “A sort of research cluster, to put it in modern layperson’s terms. They specialized in a certain type of fallen-angel folklore.”

She reached between the girls again and Luce marveled as her fingers raced across the keyboard. The search engine struggled to keep up, pulling up article after article, primary source after primary source, all on the Grigoris. Daniel’s family name was everywhere, filling up the screen. Luce felt a bit light-headed.

The image from her dream came back to her: unfurling wings, her body heating up until she smoldered into ash.

“There are different kinds of angels to specialize in?” Penn asked.

“Oh, sure—it’s a wide body of literature,” Miss Sophia said while she typed. “There are those who became demons. And those who threw in with God. And there are even ones who consorted with mortal women.” At last her fingers were still. “Very dangerous habit.”

Penn said, “Are these Watcher dudes any relation to the Daniel Grigori here?”

Miss Sophia tapped her mauve lips. “Quite possible. I wondered that myself, but it is hardly our place to be digging into another student’s business, wouldn’t you agree?” Her pale face pinched into a frown as she looked down at her watch. “Well, I hope I’ve given you enough to get started on your project. I won’t hog any more of your time.” She pointed at a clock on the computer screen. “You’ve only got nine minutes left.”

As she walked back toward the front of the library, Luce watched Miss Sophia’s perfect posture. She could have balanced a book on her head. It did seem like it had cheered her up a little to help the girls with their research, but at the same time, Luce had no idea what to do with the information she’d just been given about Daniel.

Penn did. She’d already started scribbling furious notes.

“Eight and a half minutes,” she informed Luce, handing her a pen and a piece of paper. “There’s way too much here to make sense of in eight and a half minutes. Start writing.”

Luce sighed and did as she was told. It was a boringly designed academic Web page with a thin blue border framing a plain beige background. At the top, a header in a severe blocky font read:
THE GRIGORI CLAN
.

Just reading the name, Luce felt her skin warm.

Penn tapped the monitor with her pen, snapping Luce’s attention back to her task.

The Grigoris do not sleep
. Seemed possible; Daniel always did look tired.
They are generally silent
. Check. Sometimes talking to him was like pulling teeth.
In an eighth-century decree—

The screen went black. Their time was up.

“How much did you get?” Penn asked.

Luce held up her sheet of paper. Pathetic. What she had was something she didn’t even remember doodling: the feathered edges of wings.

Penn gave her a sideways glance. “Yes, I can see you’re going to be an excellent research assistant,” she said, but she was laughing. “Maybe later we can theorize a game of
MASH
.” She held up her own much more copious notes. “It’s okay, I’ve got enough to lead us to a few other sources.”

Luce stuffed the paper into her pocket right next to the crumpled master list she’d started of all her interactions with Daniel. She was beginning to turn into her father, who didn’t like to be anywhere too far away from his paper shredder. She bent down to look for a recycling bin and spotted a pair of legs walking down the aisle toward them.

The gait was as familiar as her own. She sat back up—or attempted to sit back up—and smacked her head on the underside of the computer table.

“Ow,” she moaned, rubbing the spot where she’d hit her head in the library fire.

Daniel stood still a few feet away. His expression said that the last thing in the world he’d wanted to do right now was run into her. At least he’d shown up after the computer had logged them off. He didn’t need to think she was stalking him any more actively than he already did.

But Daniel seemed to be looking through her; his violet-gray eyes were fixed over her shoulder, on something—or someone else.

Penn tapped Luce on the shoulder, then jerked her thumb toward the person standing behind her. Cam was leaning over Luce’s chair and grinning at her. A bolt of lightning outside sent Luce practically jumping into Penn’s arms.

“Just a storm,” Cam said, cocking his head. “It’ll blow over soon. Shame, because you look pretty cute when you’re scared.”

Cam reached forward. He started at her shoulder, then traced the edge of her arm with his fingers all the way down to her hand. Her eyes fluttered, it felt so good, and when she opened them, there was a small ruby velvet box in her hand. Cam flipped it open, just for a second, and Luce saw a flash of gold.

“Open it later,” he said. “When you’re alone.”

“Cam—”

“I went by your room.”

“Can we—” Luce looked over at Penn, who was blatantly staring at them with a front-row moviegoer’s captivation.

Finally snapping out of her trance, Penn waved her hands. “You want me to leave. I get it.”

“No, stay,” Cam said, sounding sweeter than Luce expected. He turned to Luce. “I’ll go. But later—you promise?”

“Sure.” She felt herself blush.

Cam took her hand and pushed it and the box down inside the front left pocket of her jeans. It was a tight fit, and it made her shiver to feel his fingers spread out on her hips. Then he winked and turned on his heel.

Before she’d even had a chance to catch her breath, he’d doubled back. “One last thing,” he said, gliding his arm behind her head and stepping close to her.

Her head tilted back and his tilted forward, and his mouth was on hers. His lips were as plush as they’d seemed all the times Luce had stared at them.

It wasn’t deep, just a peck, but Luce felt like it was much more. She couldn’t breathe for the shock and the thrill and the public viewing potential of this very long, very unexpected—

“What the—!”

Cam’s head had spun away, and then he was hunched over, clutching his jaw.

Daniel was standing behind him, rubbing his wrist. “Keep your hands off her.”

“Didn’t hear you,” Cam said, drawing himself up slowly.

Oh. My. God. They were fighting. In the library. Over her.

Then, in one clean movement, Cam lunged toward Luce. She screamed as his arms began to close around her.

But Daniel’s hands were quicker. He swatted Cam away hard, and shoved him against the computer table. Cam grunted as Daniel grabbed a fistful of his hair and pinned his head down flat.

“I said keep your filthy hands off her, you evil piece of shit.”

Penn squealed, picked up her pencil bag, and tiptoed over to the wall. Luce watched as she tossed her dingy yellow pencil bag once, twice, three times in the air. The fourth time, it went high enough to nail the small black camera screwed into the wall. The hit sent the camera’s lens swerving far to the left, toward a very still stack of nonfiction books.

By then, Cam had thrown Daniel off and they were circling each other, their feet squeaking on the polished floor.

Daniel started ducking before Luce even realized Cam was winding up. But Daniel still didn’t duck quickly enough. Cam landed what looked like a knockout punch
just below Daniel’s eye. Daniel wheeled back from the force of it, jostling Luce and Penn against the computer table. He turned and muttered a woozy apology before careening back around.

“Oh my God, stop!” Luce cried, just before he leaped at Cam’s head.

Daniel tackled Cam, throwing a messy flurry of punches at his shoulders and the sides of his face.

“That feels good,” Cam grunted, popping his neck from side to side like a boxer. Still hanging on, Daniel moved his hands around Cam’s neck. And squeezed.

Cam responded by throwing Daniel back against a tall shelf of books. The impact boomed out into the library, louder than the thunder outside.

Daniel grunted and let go. He dropped to the floor with a thud.

“What else you got, Grigori?”

Luce reeled, thinking he might not get up. But Daniel pulled himself up quickly.

“I’ll show you,” he hissed. “Outside.” He stepped toward Luce, then away. “You stay here.”

Then both boys thumped out of the library, through the back exit Luce had used the night of the fire. She and Penn stood frozen to their spots. They stared at each other, jaws dropped.

“Come on,” Penn said, dragging Luce over to a window that looked out on the commons. They pressed
their faces to the glass, rubbing away the fog of their breath.

The rain was coming down in sheets. The field outside was dark, except for the light that came through the library windows. It was so muddy and slick, it was hard to see anything at all.

Then two figures sprinted out to the center of the commons. Both of them were soaked instantly. They argued for a moment, then started circling each other. Their fists were raised again.

Luce gripped the windowsill and watched as Cam made the first move, running at Daniel and slamming into him with his shoulder. Then a quick spinning kick to his ribs.

Daniel keeled over, clutching his side.
Get up
. Luce willed him to move. She felt like she had been kicked herself. Every time Cam went at Daniel, she felt it in her bones.

She couldn’t stand to watch.

“Daniel stumbled for a second there,” Penn announced after Luce had turned away. “But he shot right up and totally clocked Cam in the face.
Nice!”

“You’re enjoying this?” Luce asked, horrified.

“My dad and I used to watch UFC,” Penn said. “Looks like both of these guys have had some serious mixed martial art training. Perfect cross, Daniel!” She groaned. “Aw, man.”

“What?” Luce peered out again. “Is he hurt?”

“Relax,” Penn said. “Someone’s coming to break up the fight. Just when Daniel was bouncing back.”

Penn was right. It looked like Mr. Cole jogging across the campus. When he got to where the guys were fighting, he stood still and watched them for a moment, almost hypnotized by the way they were going at it.

“Do something,” Luce whispered, feeling sick.

Finally, Mr. Cole grabbed each boy by the scruff of his neck. The three of them struggled for a moment until finally Daniel pulled away. He shook out his right hand, then paced in a circle and spat a few times into the mud.

“Very attractive, Daniel,” Luce said sarcastically. Except it was.

Now for a talking-to from Mr. Cole. He waved his hands madly at them and they stood with heads hung. Cam was first to be dismissed. He jogged off the field toward the dorm and disappeared.

Mr. Cole placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. Luce was dying to know what they were talking about, whether Daniel would be punished. She wanted to go to him, but Penn blocked her.

“All that over a piece of jewelry. What did Cam give you, anyway?”

Mr. Cole walked off and Daniel was alone, standing in the light from an overhead lamppost, looking up at the rain.

“I don’t know,” Luce told Penn, leaving the window. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it. Especially not after this.” She walked back to the computer table and pulled the box from her pocket.

“If you won’t, I will,” Penn said. She cracked the box open, then looked up at Luce, confused.

The flash of gold they’d seen had not been jewelry. There were only two things inside the box: another one of Cam’s green guitar picks, and a golden slip of paper.

I
t had been a long time since Luce had taken a good look in the mirror. She never used to mind her reflection—her clear hazel eyes; small, straight teeth; thick eyelashes; and tumble of dense black hair. That was then. Before last summer.

After her mom had chopped off all her hair, Luce had started avoiding mirrors. It wasn’t just because of her short cut; Luce didn’t think she liked who she
was
anymore, so she didn’t want to see any evidence. She started
looking down at her hands when she washed them in the bathroom. She kept her head forward when walking past tinted windows and eschewed face powder in mirrored compacts.

But twenty minutes before she was supposed to meet Cam, Luce stood before the mirror in the empty girls’ bathroom in Augustine. She guessed she looked all right. Her hair was finally growing out, and the weight was starting to loosen some of her curls. She checked her teeth, then squared her shoulders and stared into the mirror as if she were looking Cam in the eye. She had to tell him something, something important, and she wanted to make sure she could muster a look that demanded he take her seriously.