He moved toward her swiftly and lowered his lips to her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered closed. He kissed her right eyelid, then her left. Then there was a quiet moment when Eureka could not move, could not open her eyes because it might interrupt the feeling that Ander was closer to her than anyone had ever been before.
When he pressed his lips to hers, she was not surprised. It happened the way the sun rose, the way a flower blossomed, the way rain fell from the sky, the way the dead stopped breathing. Naturally. Inevitably. His lips were firm, slightly salty. They made her body flush with heat.
Their noses touched and Eureka opened her mouth to take in more of his kiss. She touched his hair, her fingers tracing the path his fingers followed when he was nervous. He didn’t seem nervous now. He was kissing her as if he’d been wanting to for a very long time, as if he’d been born to do it. His hands caressed her back, pressed her against his chest. His mouth folded hungrily on hers. The heat of his tongue made her dizzy.
Then she remembered Brooks was gone. This was the most insensitive moment to cash in on a crush. Only it didn’t feel like a crush. It felt life-altering and unstoppable.
She was out of breath but didn’t want to interrupt the kiss. Then she felt Ander’s breath inside her mouth. Her eyes shot open. She pulled away.
First kisses were about discovery, transformation, wonder.
Then why did his breath in her mouth feel familiar?
Somehow, Eureka remembered. After Diana’s accident, after the car was swept to the bottom of the Gulf and Eureka washed ashore, miraculous, alive—never before had she evoked this memory—someone had given her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
She closed her eyes and saw the halo of blond hair above her, blocking out the moon, and felt the life-giving air entering her lungs, the arms that carried her there.
“I thought it was a dream,” she whispered.
Ander sighed heavily, as if he knew exactly what she meant. He took her hand. “It happened.”
“You pulled me out of the car. You swam me ashore. You saved me.”
“Yes.”
“But why? How would you even know I was there?”
“I was in the right place at the right time.”
It seemed as impossible as all the other things Eureka knew were real. She stumbled to her bed and sat down. Her mind was spinning.
“You saved me and let her die.”
Ander closed his eyes as if in pain. “If I could have saved you both, I would have. I had to choose. I chose you. If you can’t forgive me, I understand.” His hands were shaking when he ran them through his hair. “Eureka, I am so sorry.”
He had said those same words, just like that, on the first day they met. The sincerity of his apology had surprised her then. It had seemed inappropriate to apologize so passionately for something so slight, but now Eureka understood. She felt Ander’s grief about Diana. Regret filled the space around him like his own thunderstone shield.
Eureka had long resented the fact that she’d lived and Diana hadn’t. Now here was the person responsible. Ander had made that decision. She could hate him for it. She could blame him for her crazy sorrow and attempted suicide. He seemed to know it. He hovered over her, waiting to see which direction she’d take. She buried her face in her hands.
“I miss her so much.”
He fell to his knees before her, his elbows on her thighs. “I know.”
Eureka’s hand closed around her necklace. She opened her fist to expose the thunderstone, the lapis lazuli locket.
“You were right,” she said. “About the thunderstone and water. It does more than not get wet. It’s the only reason the twins and I are alive. It saved us, and I would never have known how to use it if you hadn’t told me.”
“The thunderstone is very powerful. It belongs to you, Eureka. Always remember that. You must protect it.”
“I wish Brooks …,” she started to say, but her chest felt like it was being crushed. “I was so afraid. I couldn’t think. I should have saved him, too.”
“That would have been impossible.” Ander’s voice was cold.
“You mean the way you saving both me and Diana would have been impossible?” she asked.
“No, I don’t mean that. Whatever happened to Brooks—you wouldn’t have been able to find him in that storm.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ander looked away. He didn’t elaborate.
“You know where Brooks is?” Eureka asked.
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s complicated. I’ve been trying to tell you, he’s not who you think he is anymore —”
“Please, don’t say anything bad about him.” Eureka waved Ander off. “We don’t even know if he’s alive.”
Ander nodded, but he seemed tense.
“After Diana died,” Eureka said, “it never occurred to me that I could lose anyone else.”
“Why do you call your mother Diana?” Ander seemed eager to steer the subject away from Brooks.
No one except Rhoda had asked Eureka that question, so she’d never had to voice a real answer. “When she was alive I called her Mom, like most kids do. But death turned Diana into someone else. She isn’t my mother anymore. She’s more than that”—Eureka clutched the locket—“and less.”
Slowly Ander’s hand cupped her hand cupping the two pendants. He squinted at the locket. His thumb rolled over the clasp.
“It doesn’t open,” she said. Her fingers curled around his to still them. “Diana said it was rusted shut when she bought it. She liked the design so much she didn’t care. She wore it every day.”
Ander rose on his knees. His fingers crept around the back of Eureka’s neck. She leaned into his addictive touch. “May I?”
When she nodded, he unclasped the chain, kissed her softly on the lips, then sat next to her on the bed. He touched the gold-flecked blue of the stone. He flipped the locket over and touched the raised intersecting rings on the underside. He examined the locket’s profile on either side, fingered the hinges, then the clasp.
“The oxidation is cosmetic. That shouldn’t prevent the locket from opening.”
“Then why doesn’t it open?” Eureka asked.
“Because Diana had it sealed.” Ander slid the locket off the chain, handed the chain and thunderstone back to Eureka. He held the locket with both hands. “I think I can unseal it. In fact, I know I can.”
28
SELENE’S TEARLINE
A thunderclap shook the foundation of the house. Eureka scooted closer to Ander. “Why would my mother have sealed her own locket?”
“Maybe it contains something she didn’t want anyone to see.” He slipped an arm around her waist. It felt like an instinctive motion, but once his arm was there, Ander seemed nervous about it. The tops of his ears were flushed. He kept looking at his hand as it rested on her hip.
Eureka laid her hand over his to reassure him that she wanted it there, that she savored each new lesson on his body: the smoothness of his fingers, the heat inside his palm, the way his skin smelled like summer up close.
“I used to tell Diana everything,” Eureka said. “When she died, I learned how many secrets she kept from me.”
