“How long has this been going on?” Luke asked, chest heaving with the effort to breathe, as everything seemed to be crumbling around him, burying him under the rubble. “How long?”

His sister notched her chin up, stubborn jaw he knew so well clenching in defiance. “None of your business.”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him. When he turned to Jay, his friend—his best friend, who was more like a brother to him—refused to look him in the eye. Luke stood motionless, staring at two of the most important people in his world, wondering how they’d suddenly become strangers. He turned back to his sister. “Where’s Julia?”

“What?” Penelope blinked at him in confusion. “She’s gone?”

“You didn’t see her leave, did you,” he bit out. An accusation, not a question. “Too busy letting my best friend shove his tongue down your throat.”

“That’s enough.” Jay seemed to have finally found his voice.

Luke glared at them, simmering with a rage he recognized was out of proportion to the current situation. His nerves were already frayed, and unexpectedly discovering the two of them together like that, he’d snapped.

Beyond the muffled quiet behind the curtain, he could hear Mrs. W. apologizing for the sudden cancellation of the final act of the evening. In a moment, the show would be over. The audience would be cheering, the gazebo filling with the happy buzz of people preparing to celebrate. Luke couldn’t handle that now. He couldn’t handle any of this. On impulse, and more to be spiteful than anything else, he grabbed Jay’s bag of popcorn and fled.

His mind a muddled mess, Luke let his feet take over, muscle memory and habit leading him down the path to the beach. This time of year, sunset was late, but since the resort was along the west coast of Lake Michigan, the sun rose in the east, over the lake, and set beyond the hotel, in the west. Which meant that although it was barely twilight, the beach was already shrouded in deep purples and dark blues of the coming night, the sky over the lake bruised.

Luke felt bruised. He kept walking, waiting for the waves to weave their spell, for the rhythmic pull of the tide to loosen the knots in his thoughts. Eventually, his pathetic legs demanded a rest and he hunkered down.

The evening air had turned chilly. Luckily, he was still wearing the ridiculous cape. He tucked it tighter around himself, laughing at the picture he must have made. Tall, awkward, skinny guy, glittery bloodred cape flapping in the wind as he roamed the empty beach. Maybe Kat was right. He was a vampire magician. Though that character sounded more like something from an angsty teen drama than a rom-com.