Torment - Lauren Kate [99]
Now he held her, encasing her body in his warmth, drawing her into him and rocking her in his arms. She sobbed and hiccupped and wished for a tissue to blow her nose. She wondered how it was possible to feel so bad about so many things at once.
“Shhh,” Daniel whispered. “Shhh.”
A day ago, she’d been sick watching Daniel love her into oblivion in that Announcer. The inescapable violence sewn into their relationship had seemed insurmountable. But now, especially after talking with Arriane, Luce could feel something big coming on. Something shifting—maybe the whole world shifting—with Luce and Daniel hovering right on the edge. It was all around them, in the ether, and it affected the way she saw herself, and Daniel, too.
The helpless looks she’d seen in his eyes in those just-before-dying moments: Now they felt like—they were—the past. It reminded her of the way he’d looked at her after their first kiss in this life on the marshy beach near Sword & Cross. The taste of his lips on hers, the feel of his breath on her neck, his strong hands wrapped around her: It had all been so wonderful—except for the fear in his eyes.
But Daniel hadn’t looked at her like that in a while. The way he looked at her now surrendered nothing. He looked at her as if she were going to stick around, almost as if she had to. Things were different in this life. Everyone was saying it, and Luce could feel it, too: a revelation growing ever larger inside her. She’d watched herself die, and she’d survived it. Daniel didn’t have to shoulder his punishment alone anymore. It was something they could do together.
“I want to say something,” she said into his shirt, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I want to talk before you say anything.”
She could feel his chin brushing the top of her head. He was nodding.
“I know you have to be careful about what you tell me. I know I’ve died before. But I’m not going anywhere this time, Daniel, I can feel it. At least, not without a fight.” She tried to smile. “I think it will help us both to stop treating me like a fragile piece of glass. So I’m asking you, as your friend, as your girlfriend, as, you know, the love of your life, to let me in a little more. Otherwise I just feel isolated and anxious and—”
He caught her chin with his finger and tilted her head up. He was eyeing her curiously. She waited for him to interrupt, but he didn’t.
“I didn’t leave Shoreline to spite you,” she continued. “I left because I didn’t understand why it mattered. And I put my friends in danger because of it.”
Daniel held her face in front of his. The violet in his eyes practically glowed. “I have failed you too many times before,” he whispered. “And in this life maybe I’ve erred on the side of caution. I should have known you’d test whatever boundary you were given. You wouldn’t be … the girl I loved if you didn’t.” Luce waited for him to smile down at her. He didn’t. “There’s just so much at stake this time around. I’ve been so focused on—”
“The Outcasts?”
“They’re the ones who took your friend,” Daniel said. “They can barely identify right from left, let alone which side they’re working for.”
Luce thought back to the girl Cam had shot with the silver arrow, to the good-looking empty-eyed boy in the diner. “Because they’re blind.”
Daniel looked down at his hands, rubbing his fingers together. He looked as if he might be sick. “Blind but very brutal.” He reached up and traced one of her blond curls with his finger. “You were smart to dye your hair. It kept you safe when I couldn’t get there fast enough.”
“Smart?” Luce was horrified. “Dawn could have died because I got my hands on a cheap bottle of bleach. How is that smart? If … if I dyed my hair black tomorrow, you mean the Outcasts would suddenly be able to find me?”
Daniel shook his head roughly. “They shouldn’t have found their way onto this campus at all. They should never have been able to get their hands on any of you. I am working