Starcrossed

by Josephine Angelini

  any longer tonight.”

  Helen couldn’t argue with that, so she let Lucas hold her

  shoulders and steer her down to the soft patch of grass they had

  taken off from. She hovered above him as he transitioned gracefully

  into the gravity-state.

  “What do I do?” she asked, suddenly frightened again.

  “It’s okay. I know landing is intimidating, but I’m right here,” Lucas

  said patiently as he stood on the ground, his arms stretched up

  to hold both her hands as she floated above him.

  “I think I’ve seen a painting like this,” Helen said, giddy with

  fear. “But the woman in the painting had wings.”

  “Demigods, and gods for that matter, have always been attracted

  to artists, and sometimes they’ve painted us. The wings are total

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  bull, of course, but they are pretty,” he said in a light tone. He was

  just giving her time to calm down, and she knew it.

  “Okay. What do I do?” she asked evenly.

  “I want you to pick the world back up again,” he answered.

  “What do you mean, pick up the world?” she sputtered.

  “Concentrate. You can feel what I mean, I know you can, but you

  have to trust me.”

  “I trust you,” Helen said for the hundredth time that day, but this

  time she looked him in the eyes as she said it, and he looked back

  at her with perfect faith. His face was glowing with it. Nothing

  could be impossible if Lucas had faith in her. So, she picked up the

  world . . . and fell, exactly like anyone else would have if they were

  trying to walk on six feet of air. Of course, Lucas knew what to expect,

  and caught her easily on her way to the ground. Snatching

  her out of the air, he eased her down until her feet lightly touched

  the grass.

  Finally standing on her legs after so long without using them,

  Helen felt a bit unsteady. Her vision was reeling, and she rested

  against Lucas for a moment, her arms wrapped around his neck.

  When the dizzy feeling passed, she kept her arms there still, hoping

  to feel some kind of invitation from him. He pulled away and

  forced a laugh.

  “See? Piece of cake. Next time, just swing your legs under you

  right before you change states, and you’ll be good to go,” he said

  breezily as he started walking back toward the house. “You’re

  learning much faster than I did, you know.”

  “Yeah, right. I would have hit the ground like a brick if you hadn’t

  caught me,” she said, shoving Lucas away from her as she walked,

  laughing with him even though her heart felt a bit twisted up in her

  chest.

  She wasn’t exactly expecting a kiss, but she certainly had been

  hoping for one. She suddenly felt really foolish, like she was being

  an idiot for even trying to kiss someone so much smarter, so much

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  more confident, so much more worldly than she was. She crossed

  her arms and sped up, but Lucas wouldn’t let her pass him. Instead,

  he unwound her arms and took her hand. She had just

  enough pride to be offended that he would insist on holding her

  hand after refusing to kiss her.

  “They can see us,” he said so quietly Helen could barely hear him.

  She saw him jerk his chin over toward the house.

  Following his gesture she saw that Pallas and Castor were sitting

  on the dark deck outside their shared study. They must have come

  outside to talk privately and been interrupted by Helen’s prolonged

  landing. They also must have seen her angling for a little nookie,

  which was so horrifying to Helen that she had to banish that

  thought from her mind forever or instantly explode from

  humiliation.

  “She’s learning fast, isn’t she, Dad?” Lucas called out.

  “Much better than her first landing,” Castor replied jovially, then

  turned to Helen. “Glad to see you’ve stopped trying to impersonate

  a comet.”

  “Yeah. I’ve also decided to do all my landings conscious from now

  on. Saves on food costs,” Helen returned amiably, glad that it was

  too dark for them to see her blush. She smiled at Pallas but he

  didn’t laugh, or even return her smile. He just watched.

  “Very wise of you,” Castor said. “By the way, you’d better not be

  planning any side trips, Lucas,” he added in warning. “Your mom’s

  almost done with dinner and she’s not in the mood to wait for anyone

  tonight.”

  “Duly noted. Thanks for the heads-up,” Lucas said as he led

  Helen back toward the house. By the way Lucas was rushing her

  along it seemed as if he was purposely avoiding his father and

  uncle. Either that or he was keeping Helen away from them.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” she asked as soon as they got into the

  dark garage and closed the door behind them. “Your uncle is really

  weird around me. What did he find out in Europe?”

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  “No one’s heard of you over there—or at least no one is talking

  about you. My uncle Pallas came home because he was following

  Creon here, but as far as we know Creon came to the States without

  telling his family. We think he just wants to keep an eye on us—on

  Hector, mostly,” Lucas said with a dark look on his face.

  “Did your uncle learn anything about those two women? The

  ones who attacked me?” Helen whispered tensely.

  “No, that’s still a mystery. None of Uncle Pallas’s contacts know

  anything about them. We don’t think Tantalus knows about you

  yet, but no one has seen Tantalus in years, so it’s difficult to say for

  sure what he’s got planned.”

  “No one’s seen Tantalus?” Helen asked, stunned. “How does he

  lead, then?”

  “Through his wife. She’s the one who gives all the orders to the

  Hundred Cousins, and has been for almost nineteen years now.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” Lucas said, frowning and looking down. Helen

  could tell that meant that it was an important story.

  “My favorite kind,” she said, angling her head so she could catch

  his downcast eyes. When she did, she smiled coaxingly at him until

  he gave in. Lucas took her hand absentmindedly and started playing

  with her fingers as he spoke.

  “My father had another brother. He was the youngest of the boys

  and everyone’s favorite. Even Tantalus loved him the most,” he

  said with a grimace, as if he had a hard time believing Tantalus

  loved much of anything. “His name was Ajax.”

  “What happened to him? Did he die?” Helen asked carefully. Lucas

  nodded.

  “He was murdered. By someone he couldn’t stay away from,” he

  said quickly. Frustrated, he brushed a hand over his face before he

  continued. “Anyway. When Ajax was killed, my uncle Tantalus

  went into hiding to protect himself. As head of the House, he

  feared being overthrown. After that, all of his orders either came in

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  writing or through his wife, Mildred. But no one has seen him in

  person since then.”

  “Mildred? That’s not a Greek name.”

  “She’s mortal, of course,” Lucas said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Scions from other Houses usually
send us into a murderous rage,

  remember? Not exactly good for a marriage. And the only other

  option would be for us to marry our cousins.”

  “Oh, right. Forgot about the Furies for a sec. And with just one

  House left the only Scions around are related to you. Gross,” Helen

  said, rolling her eyes at herself for missing such glaringly obvious

  points.

  “You’re not related to me,” he whispered, gently pulling on her

  hand to bring her closer to him. Then, abruptly, he turned and

  started leading her through the garage.

  They could have walked in a straight line around the edge, but instead

  Lucas chose to bring her through the maze of cars. Right before

  they got to the door that led into the kitchen he slowed and

  turned back around to face her with a smile. She could hear his elevated

  breathing and his hand felt light in hers. For just a moment

  he pulled toward her, as if he were looking for a way to scuff his

  chest across hers and fall against her mouth, but at the last moment

  he turned away and brought her inside the house as if nothing

  was going on.

  And maybe nothing was. Helen was so confused. But as soon as

  they entered the kitchen she had other things to worry about. Like

  tinnitus. In an instant, she understood why Castor and Pallas had

  gone outside to talk. It was really noisy in there.

  Noel was working her magic over the stove, and the rest of the

  family seemed to be collecting around her as inevitably as water

  running downhill. All the chairs were taken, and the standing room

  up against the counter was constantly changing as Noel whirled

  and bullied her way around her work space. Everyone was talking

  and laughing and arguing at the same time, and although Helen

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  couldn’t understand a word, somehow they all seemed to be understanding

  each other. It was a Delos symphony, and Noel was the

  maestro.

  As an outsider, Helen could see Noel for what she was—the center

  of the family, the beating heart that fed all that muscle she was

  tripping over while she was trying to cook. She was the personification

  of a warm fire and an open door, and she welcomed, even expected,

  strays like Helen to wander in and eat her food.

  “There you are,” she said without looking up from the stove. “I

  called your father and invited him over for dinner. I figured you’d

  be too worn out to do any cooking yourself.” She turned the vegetables

  she was sautéing with a deft flick of her wrist, just like Helen

  had seen celebrity chefs do on TV. Helen had always wanted to

  learn that move, and for a moment her slightly shell-shocked brain

  was distracted by it. Then she registered that Noel had been talking

  to her.

  “You invited my dad?” Helen asked shrilly.

  “I sure did. Pallas is finally home, and since you’re going to be

  spending a lot of time at our house to train I’ve decided it’s time

  our families met each other. I asked Jerry to bring your Kate as

  well, but she’s working the store tonight, so that will have to wait.

  Your dad’s going to be here in about fifteen minutes, so if there’s

  anything you need to brush or wash first,” she said, finally turning

  around to inspect the windswept girl standing in her kitchen wearing

  clothes that were about four sizes too big for her. “I’d do it

  quick,” she finished with a knowing smile.

  Helen looked down at her grass-stained feet. She tried to run a

  hand through her hair, and squeaked with pain when all the short

  hairs on the back of her neck got yanked out. Ariadne laughed.

  “You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backward. But

  I can fix that.” Ariadne stood up, pried Helen’s hand away from

  Lucas’s, and dragged her out of the kitchen.

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  Helen couldn’t believe how many knots were in her hair, but

  eventually Ariadne managed to tease them out with some anti-frizz

  lotion and a straight comb. Then Helen washed her feet, tied her

  hair back in a ponytail, and threw on some flip-flops that Ariadne

  loaned her so fast she was halfway down the steps before she realized

  that they were too big on her and she could break her neck.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” Jerry said as soon as he saw

  her. Helen burst out laughing, partly because her dad had said exactly

  what she was thinking, but mostly because of the dumb-ass

  look on his face.

  “It’s a loaner. My track uniform was all sweaty. Hey, they’re huge,

  but at least they’re clean,” Helen said, gesturing down to the

  gigantic T-shirt and the rolled-up sweatpants.

  “Oh. Well, you look . . . comfortable?” he said suspiciously.

  “Next time I’ll wear a ball gown,” Helen promised. Still laughing

  with her dad, she turned and noticed that half the Delos family was

  watching them, apparently amused.

  “I see what you mean,” Castor said to Lucas, and the two of them

  shared a look that Helen didn’t understand before he turned to

  Jerry and smiled warmly.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Jerry,” Castor said, coming forward

  with his hand extended for Jerry to shake.

  “And you, Castor. I intended to be the first to suggest we all sit

  down to a meal together, but your wife seems to be a step ahead of

  me,” Jerry said graciously.

  “Welcome to my world,” Castor replied with a laconic smile, the

  two men already enjoying each other’s company.

  The introductions were as brief as possible, considering they included

  so many people, and Jerry handled them like a pro. He’d

  run a local store for almost twenty years and he was accustomed to

  remembering people’s names and adjusting to even the most eccentric

  of personalities. Helen watched him respond in just the

  right way to make one person smile, another laugh, and yet

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  another stop and think. She was proud of her dad, not just because

  he was clever and funny, but because he knew when not to be.

  It also helped that Lucas’s family had similar tastes, both in conversation

  and in food. Jerry ate up a storm and gently leaned on

  Noel until she confessed that she had been a chef in her pre-mom

  life, years ago, when she lived in France. Noel even admitted that

  she had made a few stealth trips to the News Store. She generously

  declared Kate’s sea salt, rosemary, and créme fraîche croissants to

  be a work of crazy genius. Jerry beamed with pride, as if Kate was

  the buried treasure that he had been lucky enough to dig up. Helen

  elbowed him.

  “I see you blushing,” she whispered to her dad.

  “Yeah, and you’re not. Why is that?” he asked back.

  “No reason to,” she said, a traitorous glow starting to grow on her

  cheeks.

  “Uh-huh,” he said, not buying it. “Is this the part where I’m supposed

  to be the concerned parent and demand that you tell me exactly

  what’s going on between you and Mr. Superfantastic over

  there?”

  “No. This is the part where you mind your own business and eat

  your dinner,” Helen said, sounding exactly li
ke a mom.

  “Good! Another bullet dodged,” he said with a smile, and asked

  for seconds of Noel’s potatoes au gratin.

  The rest of the evening went along as well as Helen could have

  hoped, until the end. Helen chatted with Jason, joked around with

  Ariadne, and even spoke briefly with Pallas about his job as a museum

  curator. Up to that point, Pallas had seemed cold, even hostile

  toward her, but as soon as they started discussing painting, he

  seemed to open up a bit. Helen was no expert, but she knew

  enough about art to keep the conversation interesting. They were

  both surprised to find that they shared similar tastes, and they had

  a moment of mutual admiration while they discussed one of their

  favorite painters. Helen was beginning to think that she and Pallas

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  could get along, but after their exchange ended she saw him turn

  away from her with a deep, distrusting frown.

  Helen heard a merry jingling and turned when she felt a touch on

  her arm.

  “You can’t take it to heart,” Pandora said consolingly. “Look, I

  love all my brothers, but they can be huge jackasses sometimes.

  Especially Pallas.”

  “I just wish I knew what I did,” Helen said, frustrated.

  “No, it’s not you! You didn’t do anything. All of this Scion crap

  has been going on for a lot longer than you know.”

  “Since the dawn of time, right?” Helen asked, trying to be humorous

  even though she was still hurt by Pallas’s reaction.

  “Yeah, right. In a literal sense that’s true, but in this family

  there’s something more specific that I’m referring to. Something

  that goes back to just before you were born—that’s when

  everything started going to hell.”

  To Helen’s surprise, Pandora took her hand and led her to a

  corner where they could sit down next to each other and avoid the

  jumble of the rest of the room. Apparently, whatever Pandora had

  to tell her was something she wanted to keep between them.

  The Delos family was large enough to have cliques, and if Helen

  had to put their family into high school terms, Pandora was the

  artsy, mysterious girl that everyone wanted to hang out with, but

  only a few did on a regular basis.

  “Let me start by saying that it’s hardest for Pallas because he’s

  lost more than most of us,” Pandora said sadly, before she sat up

  straighter and smiled apologetically. “Don’t get me wrong, my