Starcrossed (36 page)

“Please be patient,” he begged as he stopped her hand from

reaching back to touch him.

She tried to sit up, to push him out of her bed, anything but suffer

lying next to someone who would play with her so terribly. They

wrestled a bit, but he was much better at it than she was and felt

even heavier than he looked. He easily blocked every attempt she

made to wrap her arms or legs or lips around him.

“Do you want me at all, or do you just think it’s fun to tease me

like this?” she asked, feeling rejected and humiliated. “Won’t you

even kiss me?” She finally struggled onto her back where she could

at least see his face.

“If I kiss you, I won’t stop,” he said in a desperate whisper as he

propped himself up on his elbows to look her in the eye.

She looked back at him, really seeing him for the first time that

night. His expression was vulnerable and uncertain. His mouth

was swollen with want. His body was shaking, and there was a fine

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layer of anxious sweat wilting his clothes. Helen relaxed back into

the bed with a sigh. For some reason that obviously had nothing to

do with desire, he wouldn’t allow himself to be with her.

“You’re not laughing at me, are you?” she asked warily, just as a

precaution.

“No. There’s nothing funny about this,” he answered. He shifted

himself off her and lay back down alongside her, still breathing

hard.

“But for some reason, you and I will never happen,” she said,

feeling calm.

“Never say never,” he said urgently, rolling back on top of her

and using all of his unusually heavy mass to press her deep into the

cocoon of her little-girl bed. “The gods love to toy with people who

use absolutes.”

Lucas ran his lips across her throat and let her put her arms

around him, but that was all. He kept her pinned under the

blankets, mummified in miserable chastity, allowing her to hold,

but not fully embrace him.

“Do you care for me? More than just in a life or death ‘we need to

stop the Hundred Cousins from starting a war with the gods’ type

of way?” she asked flippantly.

She knew that on some level she was being petty and insecure,

but she needed to know how he felt about her. He propped himself

up on his elbows so he could see her more clearly and so that she

could see him back.

“Of course I care for you,” he said intently. “The only thing I

wouldn’t do to be with you is cause innocent people to die. And

that’s pretty much it.” He moved on to his back again, jabbing a

hand in his hair. “But apparently that’s enough.”

Helen knew there was a lot more behind what he was saying than

he was letting on, but she couldn’t bear to ask any questions that

might have awful answers. She’d had enough awful for one day.

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She rolled on top of him and tucked herself into that spot on his

chest that she was convinced still held a Helen-shaped dent in it.

“Just so you know? Just so we’re clear. I care about you, too. And

if this hug is all I can have, I’d prefer it over anything else from

anyone else.”

“That’s because you’ve never been with a man,” Luke said as he

kissed the bit of skin on her forehead that was just about to be hair.

“Now go to sleep,” he ordered.

Helen would have argued, but she was too damn tired from fighting

for her life twice in one day to do more than blink contrarily.

Lucas’s arms wove a safe basket around her mending heart and she

relaxed completely into him. She listened to the particular resonance

of his breathing, a sound that she already knew so well, and

fell into a deep, nightmare-free sleep.

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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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Chapter Thirteen

Swathed in black shadows, Creon crouched outside Helen’s

house, his eyes glued to her bedroom window. He could

hear Hector four doors down, slipping through the neighbor’s

yard, searching for him. But Creon knew Hector

didn’t have a prayer. No one could find Creon at night if he

didn’t want to be found.

His little cousin Lucas was up there, in Helen’s bed, holding her

while she slept. Creon shook from head to toe, resisting the nearly

all-consuming urge to leap through the glass and fight his cousin

for her life. Or maybe just for her. Creon wasn’t sure what he

would do anymore, and he didn’t like this newfound uncertainty.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to get control. If he challenged

his cousin, it would be a fight to the death. Creon had no

doubt he would win, but in winning he would lose everything. He

would become an Outcast, and Atlantis would remain lost.

The choice was clear: immortality or Helen. So why was he

sweating with the effort to resist? He heard Helen sighing in her

sleep and Lucas shifting his body under hers, pulling her even

closer. Creon’s legs straightened as if of their own accord. He took

two steps toward the window, his head swimming in the red-lit

haze of bloodlust.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Alerted to the danger, Hector broke into a sprint and headed

straight for that slight sound. Creon had no choice but to run. He

couldn’t take both his cousins and Helen. He would have to come

back some other time.

It took him ten minutes to lose Hector in the center of the island.

His cousin was persistent, but eventually the suffocating darkness

of Creon’s shadows disoriented Hector enough so that Creon could

slip away.

Trotting up the eastern side of the beach, Creon finally checked

the ID on the call that had saved him from a terrible mistake. It

didn’t surprise him that it was from his mother. She may not be a

Scion, but she had uncanny timing. He called her back and told her

what he had found tucked away on that tiny island.

At first she didn’t believe him, though in her careful choice of

words, Creon sensed that her incredulity came not from a belief

that what he had described was impossible, but rather that she

doubted Helen herself was responsible for the phenomenon he had

witnessed. Somehow, his mother had seen or heard of a Scion being

able to break blades with his or her skin before, and Creon

pressed her to tell him who it was. Instead of answering, she asked

yet again for Creon to describe Helen. He did.

“Well, it must have been that your blade was defective. From how

you describe Helen, it can’t be her or her daughter,” Mildred said

quickly.

Creon continued to press his mother and she grew increasingly

frustrated, raising her voice and even swearing a bit. Creon was

shocked by her crass behavior. A lady never cheapened herself by

using foul language, and he hadn’t even considered his mother

capable of it until that moment. He asked her politely how she

could be so sure his blade was defective.

“Because if this girl truly was impervious to weapons, then you

would have also said she has the most beautiful face you’ve ever

seen. You wouldn’t be able to ignore that fact—it’s in your blood,”

she replied petulantly.

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“And if she does have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen?

What then?” Creon asked calmly, although a wonderful rush of adrenaline

was sending a chill across his skin. The line went silent for

a full five seconds.

“You need to come home now. We need to tell your father. This is

much bigger than you know,” Mildred finally choked out before

she abruptly ended the call.

The next morning Helen jerked herself awake, her entire body

snapping from sleep to high alert in a blink. Her hand flew to that

spot on her chest where Creon’s blade had broken, and she had to

press her fingers into her breastbone to convince herself that there

was no gaping hole there.

She heard faint whispers coming from across the room. Sitting

up, she saw Lucas standing in the window, talking to someone outside

in such a low voice that no human could hear. The clock by her

bed read 5:25, and the sky was barely gray with the dawn.

“She’s safe, that’s all that matters,” Lucas said out the window.

“Not all that matters,” came the whispered reply.

Helen got out of bed and joined Lucas at the window. She looked

down and saw Hector standing on the edge of her lawn. He looked

up at them, glancing back and forth from Helen to Lucas, an indignant

look on his face.

“You okay?” Hector asked Helen gruffly.

“Yeah. But you don’t look so hot,” she said. Even from one flight

up she could see that Hector’s eyes were bloodshot with fatigue

and worry. He grimaced sarcastically at her compassionate look,

and turned to Lucas with a warning.

“Stay high until we’re sure. She’s safer in the air.”

Hector ran off so fast that Helen could only make out his blur.

Lucas shut the window and leaned against it. His eyes were wide

and unblinking.

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“What was that about?” Helen asked in a nearly inaudible voice.

She could hear her dad’s deep breathing from his bedroom. Thankfully,

he was still asleep.

“My family went looking for Creon last night,” Lucas answered

with downturned eyes. “We think he caught a charter flight off the

island, but we aren’t sure yet.”

“He’s gone?” Helen asked, a little too hopefully.

“Maybe. But if he did leave, it won’t be forever.” Lucas stared at

Helen so intensely she had to reach out and touch him somehow

just to break the tension. She stepped forward and placed her hand

on his chest. He was shaking.

Straightening suddenly, Lucas crossed to the door. “Put on

something warm.”

“Why? Where are we going?” she whispered.

“Up.”

As soon as they were airborne, Lucas seemed to relax a little, but

not much. She asked for a flying lesson, partly because she wanted

to learn, but mostly just to distract him. They worked on Helen’s

air-pressure control for over an hour before they got a call from his

family. Castor had called from the airport, finally confirming that

Creon had left the island by private charter like they had suspected,

and it was safe for Lucas to bring Helen in.

Hector took the phone and insisted they come in right away—he

wanted her to resume her combat training that morning. The cousins

got into a heated exchange. Finally, Lucas agreed to land, but

he seemed put out by the request.

“What’s wrong?” Helen asked, confused that he wasn’t happier to

learn that Creon was gone.

“Hector has the wrong idea about us being up here alone. I’m not

keeping you aloft so we can . . . damn it, you need to learn this!” he

snapped, raking a hand through his hair. “I want you to be able to

fly away from trouble, rather than try to stand and fight.”

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“Me too,” she replied enthusiastically, grabbing on to Lucas’s

shoulders so she didn’t waft away. “Call your cousins back and tell

them we’re not done. I’d rather spend the day flying with you than

getting sweated on by Hector any time.”

Lucas gave Helen a sinking look, like he was thinking a painful

thought. “We’d better go in,” he finally decided, his face darkening.

“You need to learn both.”

Helen knew Lucas was worried, but after spending the morning

soaring weightless, she couldn’t feel anything but elated. She took

both his hands and swung him around her so they spun in a spiral

and tumbled in the air like they were on a roller coaster. The

swooping sensation in her stomach made Helen shriek, but it

worked. Lucas grinned and took the bait.

He seized on her arms and brought her into a dive that had her

screaming bloody murder. At the last moment he pulled up, holding

Helen cradled in his arms before allowing her to float to his

side. They hovered over the Delos lawn like that for a moment,

holding hands and laughing hysterically. They failed to notice the

worried stares they were getting from the rest of the Delos family

inside the house.

“Now, before you land I’m going to teach you another skill,” Lucas

said as he looped over her shoulder and put an arm around her

from behind. “I’m going to teach you how to transition into the

massive-state—turn up the gravity pulling on you. The best way to

get the hang of it is to do it while you’re landing.”

“Is that what you did when you landed on Hector the other day in

the tennis courts?” Helen guessed. “And last night?” She was

thinking of how heavy he’d made his body when they were wrestling

in her bed. She pinched her lips together to keep herself from

smiling.

“Exactly,” he said against her ear, letting his lower lip brush

against her skin. “It’s the third state of gravity for fliers, and it

could save your life in a fight.”

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With his arm around her waist and the two of them floating ten

feet above the ground, he taught her how to warp the way the

world pulled on her. Lucas guided her to reverse the impulse that

made her weightless and imagine her body becoming heavier. She