His answer was a kiss. He kissed her softly at first. On her forehead, then on her
nose, then finally found his way to her lips.
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She kissed him back deeply and hungrily and a bit desperately, throwing her
whole body into it. This was how she came home to Daniel, how she touched that easy
love they'd shared for so long. For a moment, the whole world went quiet; then Luce
came up gasping for air. She hadn't even noticed they were back on the beach.
His hand cupped the back of her head, the ski cap she had tugged down over her
ears. The cap concealing her bleached-blond hair. He pulled it off and a blast of ocean
breeze hit her head. "What did you do to your hair?"
His voice was soft, but somehow it sounded like an accusation. Maybe it was
because the song had ended, and the dance and the kiss had too, and now they were just
two people standing on a beach. Daniel's wings were arched back behind his shoulders,
still visible but out of reach.
"Who cares about my hair?" All she cared about was holding him. Wasn't that all
he should care about too?
Luce reached to take back the ski cap. Her bare blond head felt too exposed, like a
glowing red flag warning Daniel that she might be falling apart. As soon as she started to
turn away, Daniel put his arms around her.
"Hey," he said, pulling her close again. "I'm sorry."
She exhaled, drew into him, and let his touch wash over her. She tipped her head
up to meet his eyes.
"Is it safe now?" she asked, wanting Daniel to be the one to bring up the truce.
Could they finally be together? But the worn look in his eyes gave her the answer before
he opened his mouth.
"I shouldn't be here, but I worry about you." He held her at arm's length. "And
from the looks of things, I'm right to worry." He fingered a lock of her hair. "I don't
understand why you did this, Luce. It isn't you."
She pushed him away. It had always bothered her when people said that. "Well,
I'm the one who dyed it, Daniel. So, technically, it is me. Maybe not the 'me' you want
me to be--"
"That's not fair. I don't want you to be anyone other than who you are."
"Which is who, Daniel? Because if you know the answer to that, feel free to clue
me in." Her voice grew louder as frustration overtook the passion slipping through her
fingers. "I'm on my own here, trying to figure out why. Trying to figure out what I'm
doing here with all these ... when I'm not even ..."
"When you're not what?"
How had they gone so quickly from dancing on air to this?
"I don't know. I'm just trying to take it day by day. Make friends, you know?
Yesterday I joined a club, and we're planning a yacht trip somewhere. Things like that."
What she really wanted to tell him about were the shadows. And especially what she'd
done in the woods. But Daniel had narrowed his eyes like she'd already done something
wrong.
"You're not going on a yacht trip anywhere."
"What?"
"You'll stay right here on this campus until I say so." He exhaled, sensing her
rising anger. "I hate giving you these rules, Luce, but ... I'm doing so much to keep you
safe. I won't let anything happen to you."
"Literally." Luce gritted her teeth. "Good or bad or otherwise. Seems like when
57
you're not around you don't want me doing anything at all."
"That's not true." He shook a finger at her. She'd never seen him lose his temper
so quickly. Then he looked up at the sky, and Luce followed his gaze. A shadow zipped
over their heads--like an all-black firework leaving a deadly, smoky tail. Daniel seemed
to be able to read it instantly.
"I have to go," he said.
"How shocking." She turned away. "Turn up out of nowhere, pick a fight, then
duck out. This must be real, true love."
He grabbed her shoulders and shook them until she met his eyes. "It is true love,"
he said, with such desperation that Luce couldn't tell whether it chipped away at or added
to the pain in her heart. "You know it is." His eyes burned violet--not with anger but with
intense desire. The kind of look that made you love a person so much, you missed him
even when he was standing right in front of you.
Daniel ducked his head to kiss her cheek, but she was too close to tears.
Embarrassed, she turned away. She heard his sigh, and then: the beat of wings.
No.
When she whipped her head around, Daniel was soaring across the sky, halfway
between the ocean and the moon. His wings were lit bright white under a moonbeam. A
moment later, it was hard to tell him apart from any of the stars in the sky.
58
FIVE
FOURTEEN DAYS
During the night, a windless layer of fog moved in like an army, settling over the