Torment

"Really?" Miles's face lit up just long enough for him to take it as a compliment. Then it fell. "I know it must suck being grounded. If you ask me, Frankie and Steven are blowing this way out of proportion. Keeping you under their thumbs all night--"

"I know."

"Don't look now, I'm sure they're watching us. Oh, great." He groaned. "Is that my aunt Ginger?"

"I just had the pleasure." Luce laughed. "She wants to see you."

"I'm sure she does. Please don't think all my relatives are like her. When you meet the rest of the clan at Thanksgiving--"

Thanksgiving with Miles. Luce had completely forgotten about that.

"Oh." Miles was watching her face. "You don't think Frankie and Steven are going to make you stay here on Thanksgiving?"

Luce shrugged. "I gured that was what `until further notice' meant."

"So that's what's making you sad." He put a hand on Luce's bare shoulder. She'd been regretting the sleeveless dress until now, until his ngers lay across her skin. It was nothing like Daniel's touch--which was electrifying and magical every time--but it was comforting nonetheless.

Miles stepped closer, lowering his face to hers. "What is it?"

She looked up into his dark blue eyes. His hand was still on her shoulder. She felt her lips parting with the truth, or what she knew of the truth, ready to pour out from inside her.

That Daniel wasn't who she'd thought he was. Which maybe meant she wasn't who she'd thought she was. That everything she'd felt about Daniel at Sword & Cross was still there--it made her dizzy to think about it--but now everything was also so di erent. And that everyone kept saying that this lifetime was di erent, that it was time to break the cycle--but no one could tell her what that meant. That maybe it didn't end with Luce and Daniel together. That maybe she was supposed to shake herself free and do something on her own.

"It's hard to put it all into words," she said nally.

"I know," Miles said. "I have a hard time with that myself. Actually, there's something I've sort of been wanting to tell you--"

"Luce." Francesca was suddenly standing there, practically wedging herself between them. "It's time to go. I'll be escorting you back to your room now."

So much for doing something on her own.

"And Miles, your aunt Ginger and Steven would like to see you."

Miles tossed Luce one last sympathetic smile before trudging across the terrace toward his aunt.

The tables were clearing out, but Luce could see Arriane and Roland cracking up near the bar. A cluster of Nephilim girls crowded around Dawn. Shelby was standing beside a tall boy with bleached-blond hair and pale, almost white skin.

SAEB. It had to be. He was leaning into Shelby, clearly still interested, but she was clearly still pissed o . So pissed o , she didn't even notice Luce and Francesca walking nearby--but her ex-boyfriend did. His gaze hung on Luce. The pale not-quite-blue of his eyes was eerie.

Then someone shouted that the after-party was moving down to the beach, and Shelby snagged SAEB's attention by turning her back on him, saying he'd better not follow her to the party.

"Do you wish you could join them?" Francesca asked as they moved further from the commotion of the terrace. The noise and the wind both quieted as they walked along the gravel path back toward the dorm, passing rows of hot-pink bougainvillea. Luce began to wonder whether Francesca was responsible for the overriding tranquility.

"No." Luce liked all of them well enough, but if she were to attach the word wish to anything right now, it wouldn't be to go to some party on the beach. She would wish ... well, she wasn't sure for what. For something having to do with Daniel, that much she knew--but what? That he would tell her what was going on, perhaps. That instead of protecting her by withholding knowledge, he would ll her in on the truth. She still loved Daniel. Of course she did. He knew her better than anyone. Her heart raced every time she saw him. She yearned for him. But how well, really, did she know him?

Francesca xed her eyes on the grass lining the path to the dorm. Very subtly, her arms extended out at either side, like a ballet dancer at the barre.

"Not lilies and not roses," she murmured under her breath as her narrow ngertips started to tremble. "What was it, then?"

There came a soft thrashing sound, like the roots of a plant being pulled from a garden bed, and suddenly, miraculously, a border of moonbeam- white owers sprang up on either side of the path. Thick and lush and a foot tall, these weren't just any owers.

They were rare and delicate wild peonies, with buds as big as baseballs. The owers Daniel had brought Luce when she was in the hospital--and maybe other times before. Edging the path at Shoreline, they shimmered in the night like stars.

"What was that for?" Luce asked.

"For you," Francesca said.

"For what?"

Francesca touched her brie y on the cheek. "Sometimes beautiful things come into our lives out of nowhere. We can't always understand them, but we have to trust in them. I know you want to question everything, but sometimes it pays to just have a little faith."

She was talking about Daniel.

"You look at me and Steven," Francesca went on, "--and I know we can be confusing. Do I love him? Yes. But when the nal battle comes, I'll have to kill him. That's just our reality. We both know exactly where we stand."

"But you don't trust him?" "But you don't trust him?"

"I trust him to be true to his nature, which is a demon's. You need to trust that those around you will be true to their natures. Even when it may appear that they are betraying who they are."

"What if it's not that easy?"

"You're strong, Luce, independent of anything or anyone else. The way you responded yesterday in my o ce, I could see it in you. And it made me very ... glad."

Luce didn't feel strong. She felt foolish. Daniel was an angel, so his true nature had to be good. She was supposed to blindly accept that? And what about her true nature? Not as black-and-white. Was Luce the reason things between them were so complicated? Long after she'd stepped into her room and closed the door behind her, she couldn't get Francesca's words out of her head.

About an hour later, a knock on the window made Luce jump as she sat staring at the dwindling re in the hearth. Before she could even get up, there was a second knock on the pane, but this time it sounded more hesitant. Luce rose from the oor and went to the window. What was Daniel doing here again? After making such a huge deal about how unsafe it was to see each other, why did he keep turning up?

She didn't even know what Daniel wanted from her--other than to torment her, the way she'd seen him torment those other versions of her in the Announcers. Or, as he put it, loved so many versions of her. Tonight all she wanted from him was to be left alone.

She ung open the wooden shutters, then pushed up the pane, knocking over yet another one of Shelby's thousand plants. She braced her hands on the sill, then plunged her head into the night, ready to rip into Daniel.

But it wasn't Daniel standing on the ledge in the moonlight.

It was Miles.

He'd changed out of his fancy clothes, but he'd left o the Dodgers cap. Most of his body was in shadow, but the outline of his broad shoulders was clear against the deep blue night. His shy smile brought an answering smile to her face. He was holding a gold cornucopia full of orange lilies plucked from one of the Harvest Fest centerpieces.

"Miles," Luce said. The word felt funny in her mouth. It was tinged with pleasant surprise, when a moment ago she'd been so prepared to be nasty. Her heartbeat picked up, and she couldn't stop grinning.

"How crazy is it that I can walk from the ledge outside my window to yours?"

Luce shook her head, stunned too. She'd never even been to Miles's room on the boys' side of the dorm. She didn't even know where it was.

"See?" His smile broadened. "If you hadn't been grounded, we never would have known. It's really pretty out here, Luce; you should come out. You're not scared of heights or anything?"

Luce wanted to go out on the ledge with Miles. She just didn't want to be reminded of the times she'd been out there with Daniel. The two of them were so di erent. Miles--dependable, sweet, concerned. Daniel--the love of her life. If only it were that simple. It seemed unfair, and impossible, to compare them.

"How come you're not at the beach with everyone?" she asked.

"Not everyone's down at the beach." Miles smiled. "You're here." He waved the cornucopia of owers in the air. "I brought these for you from the dinner. Shelby's got all those plants on her side of the room. I thought you could put these on your desk."

Miles shoved the wicker horn through the window at her. It was brimming with the glossy orange owers. Their black stamens shivered in the wind. They weren't perfect, a few were even wilting, but they were so much lovelier than the larger-than-life peonies Francesca had made bloom. Sometimes beautiful things come into our lives out of nowhere.

This was maybe the nicest thing anyone had done for her at Shoreline--up there with the time Miles had broken into Steven's o ce to steal the book so he could help Luce learn how to step through a shadow. Or the time Miles had invited her to have breakfast, the very rst day he met her. Or how quick Miles had been to include her in his Thanksgiving plans. Or the utter absence of resentment on Miles's face when he'd been assigned garbage duty after she'd gotten him in trouble for sneaking out. Or the way Miles ...

She could go on, she realized, all night. She carried the owers across the room and set them on her desk.

When she came back, Miles was holding out a hand for her to step through the window. She could make up an excuse, something lame about not breaking Francesca's rules. Or she could just take his hand, warm and strong and safe, and let herself glide through. She could forget Daniel for just a moment.

Outside, the sky was an explosion of stars. They glittered in the black night like Ms. Fisher's diamonds--but clearer, brighter, even more beautiful. From here, the redwood canopy east of the school looked dense and dark and foreboding; to the west were the ceaselessly churning water and the distant glow of the bon re blazing down on the blustery beach. Luce had noticed these things before from the ledge. Ocean. Forest. Sky. But all the other times she'd been out here, Daniel had consumed her focus. Almost blinded her, to the point where she'd never really taken in the scene.

It truly was breathtaking.

"You're probably wondering why I came over," Miles said, which made Luce realize they'd both been silent for a while. "I started to tell you this earlier, but--I didn't--I'm not sure--"

"I'm glad you came by. It was getting a little boring in there, staring at the re." She gave him half a smile.

Miles stu ed his hands in his pockets. "Look, I know you and Daniel--"

Luce involuntarily groaned.

"You're right, I shouldn't even bring this up--"

"No, that wasn't why I groaned."

"It's just ... You know I like you, right?"

"Um."

Of course Miles liked her. They were friends. Good friends. Of course Miles liked her. They were friends. Good friends.

Luce chewed her lip. Now she was playing dumb with herself, which was never a good sign. The truth: Miles liked her. And she liked him, too. Look at the guy. With his ocean-blue eyes and the little chuckle he gave every time he broke into a smile. Plus, he was hands down the nicest person she had ever met.