Fallen - Lauren Kate [88]
She’d been wandering through a dusty fog, someone holding her hand. She’d turned, thinking it would be Daniel. But while the lips she pressed against were comforting and tender, they weren’t his. They were Cam’s. He gave her innumerable soft kisses, and every time Luce peeked at him, his stormy green eyes were open, too, boring into her, questioning her about something she couldn’t answer.
Then Cam was gone, and the fog was gone, and Luce was wrapped tightly in Daniel’s arms, right where she wanted to be. He dipped her low and kissed her fiercely, as if he were angry, and each time his lips left hers, even just for half a second, the most parching thirst ran through her, making her cry out. This time, she knew they were wings, and she let them wrap around her body like a blanket. She wanted to touch them, to fold them around her and Daniel completely, but soon the brush of velvet was receding, folding back on itself. He stopped kissing her, watched her face, waited for a reaction. She didn’t understand the strange hot fear growing in the pit of her stomach. But there it was, making her uncomfortably warm, then blisteringly hot—until she could stand it no longer. That was when she jolted awake: In the dream’s last moment, Luce herself had seared and splintered—then had been obliterated into ash.
She’d woken up soaked with sweat—her hair, her pillow, her pajamas all wet and suddenly making her so, so cold. She’d lain there shivering and alone until the morning’s first light.
Luce rubbed her rain-soaked sleeves to warm up. Of course. The dream had left her with a fire in her heart and a chill in her bones she’d been unable to reconcile all day. Which was why she’d come here for a swim, to try to work it out of her system.
This time, her black Speedo actually fit, and she’d remembered to bring a pair of goggles. She pushed open the door to the pool and stood under the high-dive platform alone, breathing in the humid air with its dull tang of chlorine. Without the distraction of the other students, or the trill of Coach Diante’s whistle, Luce could feel the presence of something else in the church. Something almost holy. Maybe it was only that the natatorium was such a gorgeous room, even with the rain pelting in through the cracked stained-glass windows. Even with none of the candles lit in the red side altars. Luce tried to imagine what the place had looked like before the pool had replaced the pews, and she smiled. She liked the idea of swimming under all those praying heads.
She lowered her goggles and leaped in. The water was warm, much warmer than the rain outside, and the crash of thunder outside sounded harmless and far away when she ducked her head underwater.
She pushed off and began a slow warm-up crawl stroke.
Her body quickly loosened up, and a few laps later, Luce increased her speed and began the butterfly. She could feel the burn in her limbs, and she pushed through it. This was exactly the feeling she was after. Totally in the zone.
If she could just talk to Daniel. Really talk, without him interrupting or telling her to transfer schools or ducking out before she could get to her point. That might help. It also might require tying him up and taping his mouth shut just so he’d listen to her.
But what would she even say? All she had to go on was this feeling she got around him, which, if she thought about it, had nothing to do with any of their inter actions.
What if she could get him back to the lake? He was the one who’d implied it had become their place. This time, she could lead him there, and she’d be super-careful not to bring up anything that seemed to freak him out—
It wasn’t working.
Crap. She was doing it again. She was supposed to be swimming. Just swimming. She’d swim until she was too tired to think about anything else, especially Daniel. She’d swim until—
“Luce!”
Until she was interrupted. By Penn, who was standing at the side of the pool.
“What are you doing here?” Luce asked, spitting water.
“What are you doing here?” Penn returned. “Since when