Torment (31 page)

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 are 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.”

Fun
. So that was the goal right now? Was fun even possible for Luce? She glanced at Miles. He was smiling. “I’m having fun,” he mouthed.

That made all the difference to Luce, who looked around the table again and realized that despite everything, she was having fun too. Roland was making a show of tonguing a shrimp at Molly, who laughed for possibly the first time in history. Cam tried doting on Callie, even offering to butter her roll, which she declined with raised eyebrows and a shy shake of her head. Shelby ate like she was training for a competition. And someone was still playing footsie with Luce underneath the table. She met Daniel’s violet eyes. He winked, giving her butterflies.

There was something remarkable about this gathering. It was the liveliest Thanksgiving they’d had since Luce’s grandmother died and the Prices stopped going to the Louisiana bayou for the holiday. So this was her family now: all these people, angels, demons, and whatever else they were. For better or worse, complicated, treacherous, full of ups and downs, and even at times fun. Just like her dad had said: That was life.

And for a girl who had had some experience with dying, life—period—was the thing for which Luce was suddenly overwhelmingly thankful.

“Well, I’ve had just about enough,” Shelby announced after a few more minutes. “You know. Food. Everyone else done? Let’s wrap this up.” She whistled and made a lasso gesture with her finger. “I’m eager to get back to that reform school we all go to—um—”

“I’ll help clear the table.” Gabbe jumped up and started stacking plates, dragging a reluctant Molly into the kitchen with her.

Luce’s mom was still shooting her furtive glances, trying to see the gathering through her daughter’s eyes. Which was impossible. She’d latched on to the Daniel idea pretty quickly and kept looking back and forth between the two of them. Luce wanted a chance to show her mom that what she and Daniel had was solid and wonderful and unlike anything else in the world, but there were too many other people around. Everything that should have been easy felt hard.

Then Andrew stopped chewing on the felt feathers around his neck and started yipping at the door. Luce’s dad stood up and reached for the dog’s leash. What a relief. “Somebody wants his after-dinner walk,” he announced.

Her mother stood up, too, and Luce followed her to the door and helped her into her pea coat. Luce handed her dad his scarf. “Thank you guys for being so cool tonight. We’ll do the dishes while you’re gone.”

Her mom smiled. “You make us proud, Luce. No matter what. Remember that.”

“I like that Miles,” Luce’s dad said, clipping Andrew’s leash to his collar.

“And Daniel is … just remarkable,” her mom said to her dad in a leading tone of voice.

Luce’s cheeks flushed and she glanced back at the table. She gave her parents a please-don’t-embarrass-me look. “Okay! Have a nice long walk!”

Luce held open the door and watched them walk out into the night with the eager dog practically choking on his leash. The cold air through the open door was refreshing. The house was hot, with so many people filling it up. Just before her parents disappeared down the street, Luce thought she saw a flash of something outside.

Something that looked like a wing.

“Did you see that?” she said, not sure who she was addressing.

“What?” her father called, turning back. He looked so full and happy that it almost broke Luce’s heart.

“Nothing.” Luce forced a smile as she closed the door. She could feel someone right behind her.

Daniel. The warmth that made her sway where she stood.

“What did you see?”

His voice was icy, not with anger but with fear. She looked up at him, reaching for his hands, but he had turned the other way.

“Cam,” he called. “Get your bow.”

Across the room, Cam’s head shot up. “Already?”

A whizzing sound outside the house silenced him. He moved away from the window and reached inside his blazer. Luce saw the flash of silver, and she remembered: the arrows he’d collected from the Outcast girl.

“Tell the others,” Daniel said before turning to face Luce. His lips parted and the desperate look on his face made her think that he might kiss her, but all he did was say, “Do you have a storm cellar?”

“Tell me what’s happening,” Luce said. She could hear water running in the kitchen, Arriane and Gabbe singing harmony on “Heart and Soul” with Callie while they did the dishes. She could see Molly’s and Roland’s skittish expressions as they cleared the table. And suddenly, Luce knew that this Thanksgiving dinner was all an act. A cover-up. Only, she didn’t know for what.

Miles appeared at Luce’s side. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned with,” Cam said. Not rudely, just stating the facts. “Molly. Roland.”

Molly put down her stack of dishes. “What do you need us to do?”

It was Daniel who answered, speaking to Molly as if they were suddenly on the same side. “Tell the others. And find shields. They’ll be armed.”

“Who?” Luce asked. “The Outcasts?”

Daniel’s eyes landed on her and his face fell. “They shouldn’t have found us tonight. We knew there was a chance, but I really didn’t want to bring this here. I’m sorry—”

“Daniel.” Cam interrupted him. “All that matters now is fighting back.”

A heavy knocking thudded through the house. Cam and Daniel moved instinctively toward the front door, but Luce shook her head. “Back door,” she whispered. “Through the kitchen.”

They all stood for a moment and listened to the creak of the back door opening. Then came a long and piercing scream.

“Callie!” Luce took off running through the living room, shuddering to imagine what scene her best friend was facing. If Luce had known the Outcasts would show up, she would not have let Callie come. She would never have come home at all. If anything bad happened, Luce would never forgive herself.

Swinging through her parents’ kitchen door, Luce saw Callie, shielded behind Gabbe’s narrow frame. She was safe, at least for now. Luce exhaled, almost collapsing backward into the wall of muscle that Daniel, Cam, Miles, and Roland had formed behind her.

Arriane stood in the whitewashed doorway, a giant butcher block raised high in her hands. She looked ready to bash someone Luce couldn’t quite see yet.

“Good evening.” A guy’s voice, stiff with formality.

When Arriane lowered the butcher’s block, there in the doorway stood a tall, lean boy in a brown trench coat. He was very pale, with a narrow face and a strong nose. He looked familiar. Cropped bleached-blond hair. Blank white eyes.

An Outcast.

But Luce had seen him somewhere else before.

“
Phil?
” Shelby cried. “What the hell are you doing here? And what happened to your eyes? They’re all—”

Daniel turned on Shelby. “You know this Outcast?”

“
Outcast?
” Shelby’s voice quaked. “He’s not a—He’s my sorry-ass ex—He’s—”

“He’s been using you,” Roland said, as if he knew something the rest of them didn’t. “I should have known. Should have recognized him for what he was.”

“But you didn’t,” the Outcast said, his voice eerily calm. He reached inside his trench coat and, from an inner pocket, pulled out a silver bow. From his other pocket came a silver arrow, which he swiftly nocked. He pointed it at Roland, then swept across the crowd, aiming at each of them in turn. “Please forgive my barging in. I’ve come to fetch Lucinda.”

Daniel stepped toward the Outcast. “You’ll
fetch
no one and nothing,” he said, “except a swift death unless you leave right now.”

“Sorry, no, can’t do that,” the boy responded, his muscled arms still holding the silver arrow taut. “We’ve had time to prepare for this night of blessed restitution. We will not leave empty-handed.”

“How could you, Phil?” Shelby whimpered, turning to Luce. “I didn’t know … Honestly, Luce, I didn’t. I just thought he was a creep.”

The boy’s lips curled up in a smile. His horrible, depthless white eyes were straight out of a nightmare. “Give her to me without a fight, or none of you will be spared.”