Fallen 2. Torment(5)

but the seat belt light went off and all she wanted to do was barrel past this guy and right

off the plane. He must have had the same idea, because he edged backward in the aisle

and swept his hand forward. As politely as she could, Luce pushed past and bounded

toward the exit.

Only to get caught in a bottleneck of agonizing slowness on the Jetway. Silently

cursing all the casual Californians shuffling in front of her, Luce stood on her toes and

shifted from foot to foot. By the time she stepped into the terminal, she'd driven herself

half insane with impatience.

Finally, she could move. She wove expertly through the crowd and forgot all

about the guy she'd just met on the plane. She forgot to feel nervous that she'd never been

to California in her life--never been further west than Branson, Missouri, that time when

her parents dragged her to see Yakov Smirnoff doing standup. And for the first time in

days, she even briefly forgot the horrible things she'd seen at Sword & Cross. She was

headed toward the only thing in the world that had the power to make her feel better. The

only thing that could make her feel that all the anguish she'd been through--all the

shadows, that unreal battle in the cemetery, and worst of all, the heartbreak of Penn's

15

death--might be worth surviving.

There he was.

Sitting exactly as she'd imagined he would, on the last in a block of sad gray

chairs, next to an automatic sliding door that kept opening and closing behind him. For a

second, Luce stood still and just enjoyed the view.

Daniel was wearing flip-flops and dark jeans she'd never seen before, and a

stretched-out red T-shirt that was ripped near the front pocket. He looked the same, yet

somehow different. More rested than he had when they'd said goodbye the other day.

And was it just that she'd missed him so much, or was his skin even more radiant than she

remembered? He looked up and finally saw her. His smile practically gleamed.

She took off running toward him. Within a second, his arms were around her, her

face buried in his chest, and Luce let out the longest, deepest breath. Her mouth found his

and they sank into a kiss. She went slack and happy in his arms.

She hadn't realized it until now, but a part of her had wondered whether she'd ever

see him again, whether the whole thing might have been a dream. The love she felt, the

love that Daniel reciprocated, all still felt so surreal.

Still caught up in his kiss, Luce lightly pinched his bicep. Not a dream. For the

first time in she didn't even know how long, she felt like she was home.

"You're here," he whispered into her ear.

" You're here."

"We're both here."

They laughed, still kissing, eating up every bit of the sweet awkwardness at

seeing each other again. But when Luce was least expecting it, her laugh turned into a

sniffle. She was looking for a way to say how hard the last few days had been for her-without him, without anyone, half asleep and groggily aware that everything had

changed--but in Daniel's arms now, she failed to find the words.

"I know," he said. "Let's get your bag and get out of here."

Luce turned toward the baggage carousel and found her neighbor from the plane

standing in front of her, the straps of her huge duffel gripped in his hands. "I saw this go

by," he said, a forced smile on his face, like he was hell-bent on proving his good

intentions. "It's yours, isn't it?"

Before Luce had time to answer, Daniel relieved the guy of the unwieldy bag,

using only one hand. "Thanks, man. I'll take it from here," he said, decisively enough to

end the conversation.

The guy watched as Daniel slid his other hand around Luce's waist and steered

her away. This was the first time since Sword & Cross that Luce had been able to see

Daniel as the world did, her first chance to wonder whether other people could tell, just

by looking, that there was something extraordinary about him.

Then they were through the sliding glass doors and she took her first real breath

of the West Coast. The early-November air felt fresh and brisk and somehow healthy, not

soggy and chilled like the Savannah air this afternoon when her plane had taken off. The

sky was a brilliant bright blue, no clouds on the horizon. Everything looked new-minted

and clean--even the parking lot held row after row of recently washed cars. A line of

mountains framed it all, tawny brown with scraggly dots of green trees, one hill rolling

into the next.

She was not in Georgia anymore.

16

"I can't decide whether to be surprised," Daniel teased. "I let you out from under

my wing for two days and another guy swoops in."

Luce rolled her eyes. "Come on. We barely spoke. Really, I slept the whole

flight." She nudged him. "Dreaming of you."