The Outcasts: a sect of spineless, waffling angels, shunned by both Heaven and Hell. Their one great strength was the reclusive angel Azazel, the only remaining starsmith, who still knew the art of producing starshots. When loosed from its silver bow, a starshot could do little more than bruise a mortal. But to angels and demons, it was the deadliest weapon of all.
Everyone wanted them, but none were willing to associate with Outcasts, so bartering for starshots was always done clandestinely, via messenger. Which meant the guy Daniel had killed was no hit man sent by the Elders. He was merely a barterer. The Outcast, the real enemy, had spirited away—probably at the first sight of Daniel and Cam. Daniel shivered. This was not good news.
“We killed the wrong guy.”
“What ‘wrong’?” Cam brushed him off. “Isn’t the world better off with one less predator? Isn’t Luce?” He stared at Daniel, then at the sea. “The only problem is—”
“The Outcasts.”
Cam nodded. “So now they want her too.”
Daniel could feel the tips of his wings bristling under his cashmere sweater and heavy coat, a burning itch that made him flinch. He stood still, with his eyes closed and his arms at his sides, straining to subdue himself before his wings burst forth like the violently unfurling sails of a ship and carried him up and off this island and over the bay and away. Straight toward her.
He closed his eyes and tried to picture Luce. He’d had to tear himself away from that cabin, from her peaceful sleep on the tiny island east of Tybee. It would be evening there by now. Would she be awake? Would she be hungry?
The battle at Sword & Cross, the revelations, and the death of her friend—it had taken quite a toll on Luce. The angels expected her to sleep all day and through the night. But by tomorrow morning, they would need to have a plan in place.
This was the first time Daniel had ever proposed a truce. To set the boundaries, make the rules, and draw up a system of consequences if either side transgressed—it was a huge responsibility to shoulder with Cam. Of course he would do it, he would do anything for her … he just wanted to make sure he did it right.
“We have to hide her somewhere safe,” he said. “There’s a school up north, near Fort Bragg—”
“The Shoreline School.” Cam nodded. “My side has looked into it as well. She’ll be happy there. And educated in a way that won’t endanger her. And, most importantly, she’ll be shielded.”
Gabbe had already explained to Daniel the type of camouflage Shoreline could provide. Soon enough, word would spread that Luce was hidden away there, but for a time at least, within the school’s perimeter, she would be nearly invisible. Inside, Francesca, the angel closest to Gabbe, would look after Luce. Outside, Daniel and Cam would hunt down and kill anyone who dared draw near the school’s boundaries.
Who would have told Cam about Shoreline? Daniel didn’t like the idea of their side knowing more than his. He was already cursing himself for not visiting the school before they made this choice, but it had been hard enough to leave Luce when he did.
“She can start as early as tomorrow. Assuming”—Cam’s eyes ran over Daniel’s face—“assuming you say yes.”
Daniel pressed a hand to the breast pocket of his shirt, where he kept a recent photograph. Luce on the lake at Sword & Cross. Wet hair shining. A rare grin on her face. Usually, by the time he had a chance to get a picture of her in one lifetime, he had lost her again. This time, she was still here.
“Come on, Daniel,” Cam was saying. “We both know what she needs. We enroll her—and then let her be. We can do nothing to hasten this part but leave her alone.”
“I can’t leave her alone that long.” Daniel had tossed out the words too quickly. He looked down at the arrow in his hands, feeling ill. He wanted to fling it into the ocean, but he couldn’t.
“So.” Cam squinted. “You haven’t told her.”
Daniel froze. “I can’t tell her anything. We could lose her.”
“You could lose her,” Cam sneered.
“You know what I mean.” Daniel stiffened. “It’s too risky to assume she could take it all in without …”
He closed his eyes to banish the image of the agonizing red-hot blaze. But it was always burning at the back of his mind, threatening to spread like wildfire. If he told her the truth and killed her, this time she would really be gone. And it would be his fault. Daniel couldn’t do anything—he could not exist—without her. His wings burned at the thought. Better to shelter her just a little longer.
“How convenient for you,” Cam muttered. “I just hope she isn’t disappointed.”
Daniel ignored him. “Do you really believe she’ll be able to learn at this school?”
“I do,” Cam answered slowly. “Assuming we agree she’ll have no external distractions. That means no Daniel, and no Cam. That has to be the cardinal rule.”
Not see her for eighteen days? Daniel couldn’t fathom it. More than that, he couldn’t fathom Luce’s ever agreeing to it. They had only just found each other in this lifetime and finally had a chance to be together. But, as usual, explaining the details could kill her. She couldn’t hear about her past lives from the mouths of angels. Luce didn’t know it yet, but very soon, she would be on her own to figure out … everything.
The buried truth—specifically what Luce would think of it—terrified Daniel. But Luce’s uncovering it by herself was the only way to break free from this horrible cycle. This was why her experience at Shoreline would be crucial. For eighteen days, Daniel could kill as many Outcasts as came his way. But when the truce was over, everything would be in Luce’s hands again. Luce’s hands alone.
The sun was setting over Mount Tamalpais and the evening fog was rolling in.
“Let me take her to Shoreline,” Daniel said. It would be his last chance to see her.
Cam looked at him strangely, wondering whether to concede. A second time, Daniel had to physically force his aching wings back into his skin.
“Fine,” Cam said at last. “In exchange for the starshot.”
Daniel handed over the weapon, and Cam slipped it inside his coat.
“Take her as far as the school and then find me. Don’t screw up; I’ll be watching.”
“And then?”
“You and I have hunting to do.”
Daniel nodded and unfurled his wings, feeling the deep pleasure of their release all through his body. He stood for a moment, gathering energy, sensing the wind’s rough resistance. Time to flee this cursed, ugly scene, to let his wings carry him back to a place where he could be his true self.
Back to Luce.
And back to the lie he would have to live a little while longer.
“The truce begins at midnight tomorrow,” Daniel called, kicking back a great spray of sand on the beach as he lifted off and soared across the sky.
ONE
EIGHTEEN DAYS
Luce planned on keeping her eyes closed all six hours of the cross-country flight from Georgia out to California, right up until the moment when the wheels of the plane touched down in San Francisco. Half asleep, she found it so much easier to pretend she was already reunited with Daniel.