illuminated Miles, leaning over the next table to clear away some plates.
"Is that my grand-nephew-- waiting tables? " Ms. Fisher pressed a gloved hand to
her forehead.
"Actually," Shelby said, butting into the conversation, the torch lighter in one
hand, "he's the trash--"
"Shelby." Francesca cut her off. "I think that tiki torch near the Nephilim tables
has just burned out. Could you fix it? Now? "
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"You know what?" Luce said to Ms. Fisher. "I'll go get Miles and bring him over.
You must be eager to catch up."
Miles had traded in the Dodgers cap and sweatshirt for a pair of brown tweed
slacks and a bright orange button-down shirt. Kind of a bold choice, but it looked good.
"Hey!" He waved her over with the hand that wasn't balancing a stack of dirty
plates. Miles didn't seem to mind busing tables. He was grinning, in his element, chatting
with everyone at the banquet as he cleared their plates.
When Luce approached, he put the plates down and gave her a big hug, squeezing
her closer at the end.
"Are you okay?" he asked, tilting his head to one side so that his brown hair
flopped over his eyes. He didn't seem used to the way his hair moved without his cap on,
and he flicked it quickly back. "You don't look so good. I mean--you look great, that's not
what I meant. At all. I really like that dress. And your hair looks pretty. But you also look
kind of"--he frowned--"down."
"That's disturbing." Luce kicked the grass with the toe of her black high heel.
"Because this is the best I've felt all night."
"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 figured 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 fingers 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 different.
And that everyone kept saying that this lifetime was different, 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 finally.
"I know," Miles said. "I have a hard time with that myself. Actually, there's
157
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 off. So pissed off, she didn't even notice Luce and Francesca
walking nearby--but her ex-boyfriend did. His gaze hung on Luce. The pale not-quiteblue of his eyes was eerie.
Then someone shouted that the after-party was moving down to the beach, and