Passion by Lauren Kate Page A

exited from a pub across the street.
    For a moment, Daniel churned with anger. He’d been clear enough that he wanted no help from the others. His hands bal ed into sts, and he took a step toward Cam, but then—
    Of course. This was Cam from the Helston era. And by the looks of it, Cam was having the time of his life in his fancy striped tapered slacks and Victorian smoking cap. His black hair was long, cascading just past his shoulders. He leaned against the pub’s door, joking with three other men.
    Cam slipped a gold-tipped cigar out of a square metal case. He hadn’t seen Daniel yet. As soon as he did, he would quit laughing. From the beginning, Cam had traveled through the Announcers more than any of the fal en angels. He was an expert in ways Daniel never could be: That was a gift of those who’d thrown in with Lucifer—they had a talent for traveling through the shadows of the past.
    One look at Daniel would tel this Victorian Cam that his rival was an Anachronism.
    A man out of time.
    Cam would realize that something big was going on. Then Daniel would never be able to shake him.
    Cam would realize that something big was going on. Then Daniel would never be able to shake him.
    “You’re so very generous, Mr. Grigori.” Mrs. Holcombe was stil nat ering, stil had Daniel gripped by his shirtsleeve.
    Cam’s head began to swivel in his direction.
    “Think nothing of it.” The words rushed out of Daniel. “Now, if you’l excuse me”—he pried her ngers loose—“I’ve just got to … buy some new clothes.”
    He made a speedy bow and rushed through the door of the nearest shop.
    “Mr. Grigori—” Mrs. Holcombe was practical y shouting his name.
    Silently, Daniel cursed her, pretending he was out of earshot, which only made her cal more loudly. “But that’s a dressmaker’s, Mr.
    Grigori!” she shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth.
    Daniel was already inside. The glass door of the shop slammed behind him, the bel that was tied to the hinge ringing. He could hide here, at least for a few minutes, in the hopes that Cam hadn’t seen him or heard Mrs. Holcombe’s shril voice.
    The shop was quiet and smel ed of lavender. Wel -heeled shoes had worn down its wooden oors, and the shelves along the wal s were stacked to the ceiling with bolts of colorful fabrics. Daniel lowered the lace curtain over the window so he’d be less visible from the street.
    When he turned, he caught a glimpse in the mirror of another person in the shop.
    He swal owed a moan of surprised relief.
    He’d found her.
    Luce was trying on a long white muslin dress. Its high neck fastened with a yel ow ribbon, bringing out the incredible hazel of her eyes.
    Her hair was tied back to one side, clipped with a beaded oral pin. She kept dgeting with the way the sleeves fel on her shoulders as she stood, examining herself from as many angles as she could in the mirror. Daniel adored al of them.
    He wanted to stand there, admiring her forever, but then he remembered himself. He strode toward her and grabbed her by the arm.
    “This has gone on long enough.” Even as he spoke, Daniel felt overcome by the delicious feel of her skin against his hand. The last time he’d touched her was the night he thought he’d lost her to the Outcasts. “Do you have any idea what a scare you gave me? You’re not safe here on your own,” he said.
    Luce didn’t start arguing with Daniel, as he’d expected. Instead, she screamed and slapped him smartly across the face.
    Because she wasn’t Luce. She was Lucinda.
    And, what was worse, they hadn’t even met yet in this lifetime. She must have just come back from London with her family. She and Daniel must have been about to meet at the Constances’ summer solstice party.
    He could see al of that now as the shock registered on Lucinda’s face.
    “What day is this?” he asked desperately.
    She would think he was insane. Across the room, he had been too love-struck to note the di erence between the