by Lauren Kate
Luce closed her eyes. “I missed you, too.” It was the first time in weeks she hadn’t lied to her parents.
The house was warm and full of intoxicating Thanksgiving scents. She inhaled and could instantly picture every foil-wrapped dish staying hot in the oven. Deep-fried turkey with mushroom stuffing—her dad’s specialty. Apple-cranberry sauce, light-as-air yeast rolls, and enough pumpkin-pecan pies—her mom’s—to feed the whole state. She must have been cooking all week.
Luce’s mom took hold of her wrists. Her hazel eyes were a little damp around the edges. “How are you, Luce?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
It was such a relief to be home. Luce could feel her eyes grow damp too. She nodded, folding into her mom for a hug.
Her mother’s chin-length dark hair was sculpted and sprayed, like she’d just been to the beauty parlor the day before. Which, knowing her, she probably had. She looked younger and prettier than Luce remembered. Compared to the elderly parents she’d tried to visit in Mount Shasta—even compared to Vera—Luce’s mom seemed happy and alive, untainted by sorrow.
It was because she’d never had to feel what the others had felt, losing a daughter. Losing Luce. Her parents had made their whole life around her. It would destroy them if she died.
She could not die the way she had in the past. She could not wreck her parents’ life this time around, now that she knew more about her past. She would do whatever it took to keep them happy.
Her mom gathered the coats and hats of the four other teenagers who were standing in her foyer. “I hope your friends brought their appetites.”
Shelby jerked her thumb at Miles. “Be careful what you wish for.”
It was just like Luce’s parents not to mind a carful of last-minute guests at their Thanksgiving table.
When her dad’s Chrysler New Yorker had rolled through Sword & Cross’s tall wrought iron gates just before noon, Luce had been waiting for him. She hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before. Between the strangeness of being back at Sword & Cross and her nerves about mingling such an odd Thanksgiving crew the next day—her mind would not settle down.
Luckily, the morning had passed without incident; after giving her dad the longest, tightest hug she’d ever given someone, she’d mentioned that she had a few friends without places to go for the holiday.
Five minutes later, they were all in the car.
Now they were milling around Luce’s childhood home, picking up framed pictures of her at different awkward ages, gazing out the same French windows she’d been gazing out over bowls of cereal for more than a decade. It was kind of surreal. As Arriane bounded into the kitchen to help her mom whip some cream, Miles peppered her dad with questions about the enormous piece-of-junk telescope in his office. Luce felt a swell of pride in her parents for making everyone feel welcome.
The sound of a car horn outside made her jump.
She perched on the sagging couch and lifted a slat of the window blind. Outside, a red-and-white taxi was idling in front of the house, coughing exhaust into the cold fall air. The windows were tinted, but the passenger could be only one person.
Callie.
One of Callie’s knee-high red leather boots extended from the back door, planting itself on the concrete sidewalk. A second later, Luce’s best friend’s heart-shaped face came into view. Callie’s porcelain skin was flushed, her auburn hair shorter, cut at a sleek angle close to her chin. Her pale blue eyes glittered. For some reason, she kept glancing back inside the cab.
“Whatcha looking at?” Shelby asked, pulling up another slat so she could see. Roland slid in on Luce’s other side and looked out too.
Just in time to see Daniel slide out of the taxi—
Followed by Cam, from the front seat.
Luce sucked in her breath at the sight of them.
Both guys were wearing long, dark coats, like the coats they’d worn on the shore in the scene she’d glimpsed. Their hair gleamed in the sunlight. And for a moment, just a moment, Luce remembered why she’d originally been intrigued by them both at Sword & Cross. They were beautiful. There was no getting around it. Surreally, unnaturally stunning.
But what the hell were they doing here?
“Right on time,” Roland murmured.
On her other side, Shelby asked, “Who invited them?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Luce said, but she couldn’t help swooning a little at the sight of Daniel. Even though things between them were a mess.
“Luce.” Roland was chuckling at her expression as she watched Daniel. “Don’t you think you should answer the door?”
The doorbell rang.
“Is that Callie?” Luce’s mom called from the kitchen over the whir of the stand mixer.
“Got it!” Luce shouted back, feeling a cold pain spread through her chest. Of course she wanted to see Callie. But more overwhelming than her joy at seeing her best friend, she realized, was her hunger to see Daniel. To touch him, to hold him and breathe him in. To introduce him to her parents.
They would be able to see, wouldn’t they? They’d be able to tell that Luce had found the person who had changed her life forever.
She opened the door.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” a high southern voice drawled. Luce had to blink a few times before her brain could connect with the sight before her eyes.
Gabbe, the most beautiful and the most perfectly mannered angel at Sword & Cross, was standing on Luce’s porch in a pink mohair sweater dress. Her blond hair was a gorgeous frenzy of braids, pinned up into little swirls on top of her head. Her skin had a soft, lovely shimmer—not unlike Francesca’s. She held a bouquet of white gladiolas in one hand and a frosty white plastic ice cream tub in the other.
Next to her, her bleached-blond hair grown brown at the roots, stood the demon Molly Zane. Her torn black jeans matched her frayed black sweater, like she was still following Sword & Cross’s dress code. Her facial piercings had multiplied since the last time Luce had seen her. She had a small black cast iron kettle balanced in the crook of her arm. She was glaring at Luce.
Luce could see the others walking up the long, curving walk. Daniel had Callie’s suitcase hoisted up over his shoulder, but it was Cam who was leaning in, smiling, his hand on Callie’s right forearm as he chatted with her. She didn’t seem to know whether to be slightly nervous or absolutely charmed.
“We were just in the neighborhood.” Gabbe beamed, holding out the flowers to Luce. “I made my homemade vanilla ice cream, and Molly brought an appetizer.”
“Shrimp Diablo.” Molly lifted up the lid of her kettle, and Luce breathed in a spicy garlic broth. “Family recipe.” Molly slapped the lid back down, then pushed past Luce into the foyer, stumbling over Shelby in her path.
“Excuse you,” they said gruffly at the same time, eyeing each other suspiciously.
“Oh, good.” Gabbe leaned in to give Luce a hug. “Molly’s made a friend.”
Roland took Gabbe into the kitchen, and Luce had her first clear view of Callie. When they locked eyes, they couldn’t help themselves: Both girls broke into involuntary grins and ran toward one another.
The impact of Callie’s body knocked the wind out of Luce, but it didn’t matter. Their arms were flung around each other, each girl’s face buried in the other’s hair; they were laughing the way you laugh only after too long a separation from a very good friend.
Reluctantly, Luce pulled away and turned to the two guys standing a few feet back. Cam looked as he always did: controlled and at ease, slick and handsome.
But Daniel looked uncomfortable—and he had good reason to be. They hadn’t spoken since he’d seen her kiss Miles, and now they were standing with Luce’s best friend and Daniel’s enemy-turned- … whatever Cam was to Daniel now.
But—
Daniel was in her home. Within shouting distance of her parents. Would they lose it if they knew who he really was? How did she introduce the guy who was responsible for a thousand of her deaths, whom
she was magnetically drawn to almost all the time, who was impossible and elusive and secretive and sometimes even mean, whose love she didn’t understand, who was working with the devil, for crying out loud, and who—if he thought showing up here uninvited with that demon was a good idea—maybe didn’t know her very well at all.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was bone-dry because she couldn’t talk to Daniel without talking to Cam, too, and she couldn’t talk to Cam without wanting to throw something heavy at him.
Cam spoke first. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. We heard your house was the place to be today.”
“We ran into your friend here at the airport,” Daniel added, using the flat tone he spoke in when he and Luce were in public. It was more formal, making her yearn to be alone with him so they could just be real. And so she could grab him by the lapels of his stupid coat and shake him until he explained everything. This had gone on long enough.
“Got to talking, shared a cab,” Cam picked up, winking at Callie.
Callie smiled at Luce. “Here I was picturing some intimate gathering at the Price household, but this is so much better. Now I can get the real scoop.”
Luce could feel her friend searching her face for clues about what the deal was with these two guys. Thanksgiving was about to get really awkward, really fast. This was not the way things were supposed to go.
“Turkey time!” her mother called from the doorway. Her smile changed into a confused grimace when she saw the crowd outside. “Luce? What’s going on?” Her old green-and-white-striped apron was tied around her waist.
“Mom,” Luce said, gesturing with her hand, “this is Callie, and Cam, and …” She wanted to reach out to put her hand on Daniel, something, anything to let her mom know that he was special, that this was the one. To let him know, too, that she still loved him, that everything between them was going to be okay. But she couldn’t. She just stood there. “ … Daniel.”
“Okay.” Her mom squinted at each of the newcomers. “Well, um, welcome. Luce, honey, can I have a word?”
Luce went to her mother at the front door, holding up a finger to let Callie know she’d be right back. She followed her mother through the foyer, through the dim hallway hung with framed pictures from Luce’s childhood, and into her parents’ cozy, lamplit bedroom. Her mom sat down on the white bedspread and crossed her arms. “Feel like telling me anything?”
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Luce said, sinking down on the bed.
“I don’t want to shut anyone out of a Thanksgiving meal, but don’t you think we need to draw the line somewhere? Wasn’t one unexpected carful of people enough?”
“Yes, of course you’re right,” Luce said. “I didn’t invite all these people. I’m as stunned as you are that they all showed up.”
“It’s just that we have so little time with you. We love to meet your friends,” Luce’s mom said, stroking her hair. “But we cherish our time with you more.”
“I know this is such a huge imposition, but Mom”—Luce turned her cheek into her mother’s open palm—“he is special. Daniel. I didn’t know he was going to come, but now that he’s here, I need this time with him as much as I need it with you and Dad. Does that make any sense?”
“Daniel?” her mom repeated. “That beautiful blond boy? You two are—”
“We’re in love.” For some reason, Luce was trembling. Even though she had her doubts about their relationship, saying out loud, to her mother, that she loved Daniel made it seem true—made her remember that she did, despite everything, truly love him.
“I see.” When her mom nodded, her sprayed brown curls stayed in place. She smiled. “Well, we can’t very well kick out everyone else but him, can we?”
“Thank you, Mom.”
“Thank your father, too. And honey? Next time, a little more advance notice, please. If I’d known you were bringing home ‘the one,’ I would have grabbed your baby album from the attic.” She winked, planting a kiss on Luce’s cheek.
Back in the living room, Luce ran into Daniel first.
“I’m glad you got to be with your family after all,” he said.
“I hope you’re not mad at Daniel for bringing me,” Cam put in, and Luce searched for haughtiness in his voice but found none. “I’m sure you’d both rather I weren’t here, but”—he looked at Daniel—“a deal’s a deal.”
“I’m sure,” Luce said coolly.
Daniel’s face gave nothing away. Until it darkened. Miles had come in from the dining room.
“Um, hey, your dad’s about to make a toast.” Miles’s eyes were fixed on Luce in a way that made her think he was trying hard not to meet Daniel’s stare. “Your mom told me to ask where you wanted to sit.”
“Oh, wherever. Maybe next to Callie?” A mild panic struck Luce as she thought about all the other guests and the need to keep them as far away from each other as possible. And Molly away from just about everyone. “I should have done a seating chart.”
Roland and Arriane had made quick work of setting up the card table at the edge of the dining room table, so the banquet now stretched into the living room. Someone had thrown down a gold-and-white tablecloth, and her parents had even busted out their wedding china. Candles were lit and goblets of water filled. And soon Shelby and Miles were carrying in steaming bowls of green beans and mashed potatoes while Luce took her seat between Callie and Arriane.
Their intimate Thanksgiving dinner was now serving twelve: four humans, two Nephilim, six fallen angels (three each on the side of Good and Evil), and one dog dressed as a turkey, with his bowl of scraps under the table.
Miles went for the seat directly across from Luce—until Daniel flashed him a menacing look. Miles backed off, and Daniel was just about to sit down when Shelby slid right in. Smiling with a little look of victory, Miles sat on Shelby’s left, across from Callie, while Daniel, looking vaguely annoyed, sat to her right, across from Arriane.
Someone was kicking Luce under the table, trying to get her attention, but she kept her eyes on her plate.
Once everyone was seated, Luce’s father stood up at the head of the table, facing her mother at the foot. He clanked his fork against his glass of red wine. “I’ve been known to make a long-winded speech or two this time of year.” He chuckled. “But we’ve never served so many hungry-looking kids before, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m thankful for my sweet wife, Doreen, my best kid, Lucie, and all of you for joining us.” He fixed on Luce, drawing his cheeks in the way he did when he was especially proud. “It’s wonderful to see you prospering, growing into a beautiful young lady with so many great friends. We hope they’ll all come again. Cheers, everyone. To friends.”
Luce forced a smile, avoiding the shifty glances all her “friends” were sharing.
“Hear, hear!” Daniel broke the exquisitely awkward silence, raising his glass. “What good is life without trusty, reliable friends?”
Miles barely looked at him, plunging a serving spoon deep into the mashed potatoes. “Coming from Mr. Reliable himself.”
The Prices were too busy passing dishes at opposite ends of the table to notice the dirty look Daniel directed at Miles.
Molly was spooning the Shrimp Diablo appetizer no one had yet touched in a growing heap on Miles’s plate. “Just say uncle when you’ve had enough.”
“Whoa, Mo. Save some heat for me.” Cam reached to take the kettle of shrimp. “Say, Miles. Roland told me you showed off some mad skills fencing the other day. I bet the girls went crazy.” He leaned forward. “You were there, right, Luce?”
Miles had his fork poised in midair. His large blue eyes looked confused about Cam’s intentions, and as if he was hoping to hear Luce say that yes, the girls—herself included—had indeed gone crazy.
“Roland also said Miles lost,” Daniel said placidly, and speared a piece of stuffing.
At the other end of the table, Gabbe cut the tension with a loud and satisfied purr. “Oh my God, Mrs. Price. These Brussels sprouts a
re a little taste of Heaven. Aren’t they, Roland?”
“Mmm,” Roland agreed. “They really bring me back to a simpler time.”
Luce’s mother began reciting the recipe while Luce’s dad went on about local produce. Luce was trying to enjoy this rare time with her family, and Callie leaning in to whisper that everyone seemed pretty cool, especially Arriane and Miles—but there were too many other situations to monitor. Luce felt like she might have to defuse a bomb at any moment.
A few minutes later, passing the stuffing around the table a second time, Luce’s mother said, “You know, your father and I met when we were right around your age.”
Luce had heard the story thirty-five hundred times before.
“He was the quarterback at Athens High.” Her mother winked at Miles. “The athletic ones drove the girls wild in those days, too.”
“Yep, the Trojans were twelve and two my varsity year.” Luce’s dad laughed, and she waited for his token line. “I just had to show Doreen I wasn’t as much of a tough guy off the field.”
“I think it’s great what a strong marriage you two have,” Miles said, grabbing yet another of Luce’s mother’s famous yeast rolls. “Luce is lucky to have parents who are so honest and open with her and each other.”
Luce’s mom beamed.
But before she could respond, Daniel butted in. “There’s much more to love than that, Miles. Wouldn’t you say, Mr. Price, that a real relationship is more than just easy fun and games? That it takes some effort?”
“Of course, of course.” Luce’s father patted his lips with his napkin. “Why else would they call marriage a commitment? Sure, love has its ups and downs. That’s life.”
“Well said, Mr. P.,” Roland said, with a soulfulness beyond his smooth seventeen-year-old-looking face. “God knows, I’ve seen some ups and downs.”
“Oh, come on,” Callie chimed in, to Luce’s surprise. Poor Callie, taking everyone here at face value. “You guys make it sound so heavy.”
“Callie’s right,” Luce’s mom said. “You kids are young and hopeful, and you really should just be having fun.”
