first, but now the terrible possibilities were tumbling toward us in a rush.
At what I feared was the end of the story.
We’d sent the Hourglass contingent out to sightsee. I’d spent the day staring at my TV and tried to lose myself in a
“Off.” I closed the lid of his laptop, barely missing his fingers, and sending empty Jolly Rancher candy wrappers skittering to the floor. “All you’ve done is stare at that damn computer all day.”
He raised a brow. “Just trying to find answers.”
I dropped onto the bed. “Sit with me.”
He didn’t touch me when he did. I took it metaphorically.
“We aren’t going to do this, Dune.” I gestured to the empty space. “You’re removing yourself from the situation, and removing yourself from me.”
“This isn’t about distance. It’s about giving you room to breathe. Giving me time to research.”
“I want us in the same airspace right now, okay? I need it.”
Dune’s arms were around me in a second. “I need it, too.”
Relief eased my tension before his mouth on mine ratcheted it up again—gentle, insistent—not enough.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my body to his. Closing my eyes, I teased his mouth open to deepen the kiss. He tasted like candy. “Forgiven.”
“I’m still sorry. I didn’t think circling the same thing over and over again in conversation would be good for us, and I didn’t have any new answers.”
“I understand, but I don’t want to lose time with you now. What if I can’t get it back later?”
His thumb smoothed over my forehead and down my temple. “We’re going to figure out how to stop the rips from taking over.”
This was the capable Dune, the one everyone looked to for ideas and support. Totally solid, completely dependable. He thought he was nothing more than the strength behind the scenes. “As much as I’ve tried to avoid being trapped in one place my whole life, now I don’t want to move from this spot. I keep thinking,
“You’re as safe as I can make you.”
“I know.” Even though I hadn’t shed a tear, I felt like I’d been crying for days. Raw, achy, and emotionally spent.
“I want to make you happy,” he murmured into my hair. “Tell me how.”
I whispered in his ear.
Dune pulled away so he could look into my eyes.
“I could disappear,” I said. “Not exist, except as a full-time playground for dead people. I know the timing sucks, but right now is all we have.”
“No, it’s not, Hal. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’ll try. But you can’t guarantee it, and I don’t want to lose one more second. Do you?”
Instead of answering, he shut the bedroom door.
He hadn’t fallen asleep until dawn, and even then he’d only slept in snatches. This time, I was the one who watched him take every breath. When my phone rang, I picked it up to silence it, figuring it was Dad checking in.
My heart stopped cold when I saw the name on the caller ID.
I shook Dune awake and answered.
“Hello, Mother.”
She sounded cool and well rested. Wherever she’d been for the past few weeks, the living hadn’t been hard.
“Where have you been?” I asked, keeping my tone as bored as I could manage. “We thought you were dead.”
“Don’t you mean
“What do you think?”
Dune sat up beside me. The word
“Why are you calling?” I leaned back into Dune’s chest. “I know you want something. You always do.”
“That’s no way to talk to your mother, Little Miss.”
It was her childhood nickname for me, a passive-aggressive insult. Her specialty. “Whatever.”
“I’m your mother. That’s why I’m calling.” She took a deep sigh for dramatic effect. “I want to help you. I want to lift the burden of the Infinityglass from you. I can make that happen. I can help.”
I tensed, saying nothing. Waiting for the bomb to drop.
“I’m in New Orleans, and I need to see you.”
“Could she be telling the truth?” Dune asked. “What if she does have a way to help?”
“Everyone should try something new once in a while. Maybe truth is her latest hobby.”
Dune had insisted on neutral ground, and Audubon Park fit the bill. We took Dad’s town car down Saint Charles. It dropped us off across from Tulane’s Gibson Hall.
We didn’t go in too deep, staying far away from the Fly, the side of the park next to the river. Even so, I could still smell the Mississippi. I knew Dune could, too. A keen edge of panic sneaked out from underneath his mask of cool every time the wind blew.
“Are you okay?” I asked, “with the water?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Subject changer.” I turned to face him. We hadn’t recapped the events of the night before, but I couldn’t stop thinking about his skin, his mouth, his hands.
“I am not. I just wanted to say what was on my mind.” He pulled me down to sit beside him on a bench.
“I hope you’re having the same thought I am,” I said.
“Which is?”
“More.”
He caught the back of my head in his hand and brought me in for a kiss. “Don’t give up yet.”
I nodded, and then a shadow blocked the sun. The afterglow disappeared in a flash.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Hallie.” She looked down her nose at Dune. “Who is this?”
“We’ve never officially met.” He stood to shake her hand, which she did, with disdain. It didn’t faze him. “I’m Dune Ta’ala.”
He put his arm around me when he sat back down, keeping his body forward, as close in front of me as he could be. His eyes had gone from sweet to wary, and the scar through his eyebrow became menacing instead of intriguing.
It was the first time I’d seen him use his physicality to intimidate, like a peacock fluffing up his plumes. It was ridiculously hot, and from the visible tension in my mother’s body, it worked.
“Does your father know about this?” Mother slid her sunglasses off and put them in her purse.
“Yes,” I answered, keeping my eyes on Dune.
“And what does he think about it?”
I shrugged. Let her wonder. If she’d been on the run, it had been somewhere that provided French
