Dreamless (Starcrossed 2)

“So is Hades,” Cassandra said, almost as if she were talking about a long-lost friend. “Of all the gods, Hades is the most compassionate. After all, he’s said to be the one who’s watching with you when your life flashes before your eyes. Maybe it’s Orion’s compassion that makes him the right replacement for Hades.”

Helen didn’t have a clue how to argue with that, but she knew in her heart that it was wrong of Cassandra to compare Orion to Hades, or to call him a tyrant. Orion was so full of vitality and optimism—he’d even made her laugh in hell. How could a guy like that ever take the place of Hades and become the Scion version of the god of the dead? It didn’t fit.

“None of this is set in stone, Helen,” Ariadne said when she saw how upset Helen was getting. “If you say Orion is a good guy, I believe you.”

“Orion’s been through a lot because of the Furies, and he’s willing to risk his life to help me get rid of them, so that no one else suffers like he has. That’s not something a bad person would do,” Helen insisted.

“Sounds like you know him better than you’ve said,” Lucas said stiffly.

“I’ve only talked with him twice, but time is different down there. It was like days passed. I’m not saying I know everything about him, because I don’t. But I do trust him.”

Helen could feel waves of irritation radiating out from Lucas, but he didn’t say another word. In a way, she would have preferred it if he had starting shouting at her again. At least then she would know what he was thinking.

“Let’s hope you’re right, Helen. For all our sakes,” Cassandra said pensively. Then she stood up and went to the scrolls, essentially dismissing everyone. Taking the hint, they all filed out of the library and headed toward the kitchen.

Noel had prepared a mini-feast to celebrate the ordination of the first new priests and priestesses of Apollo in probably about a jillion years. Helen had to smile at the spread, appreciating the fact that the Delos family did pretty much everything with food. Fights, celebrations, convalescences—every major turning point and sometimes just Sunday mornings, merited a major sit-down. It made their house a home. Helen knew she was a cousin and that she was a part of this family, but she didn’t feel welcome anymore. If she stayed, she knew Lucas would go. Helen hung back, unwilling to enter the kitchen.

“Get in there and eat!” Claire ordered cheerfully, coming up behind her.

“Ha! Do I look that thin?”

“Thinner.”

“I can’t do it, Claire,” Helen said hoarsely.

“He’s already left, you know. He just took off. But I get it.” Claire shrugged. “It sucks you won’t stay and celebrate, but I can’t say I blame you. I wouldn’t feel comfortable, either.”

“This was really brave of you, you know,” Helen told her seriously. “It took a lot of guts to join the priesthood.”

“I should have done it sooner,” Claire said quietly. “I let you wander around down there without any help for too long, and . . . well, look at you. I’m so sorry, Lennie.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” Claire said bluntly. “You look really sad.”

Helen nodded acceptingly. She knew that her friend wasn’t being cruel, just honest. She gave Claire a hug and snuck out the back before anyone else could tell her to come in and sit down. Helen was just about to fly off when she heard someone approaching from the side, moving across the lawn toward her.

“Just tell me you’re not letting him call the shots down there,” Lucas said in a low voice. He stopped while he was about ten feet away from her, but she still edged away from him. There was something combative about his stance that Helen didn’t like.

“I’m not,” she said. “Orion isn’t what you think. I told you, he just wants to help me.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s all he wants.” Lucas kept his voice flat and cold. “You can fool around with him as much as you want, but you know you can’t really be with him, don’t you?”

Helen’s jaw dropped. “I’m not with him,” she huffed, nearly breathless with shock.

“The whole point is to keep the Houses separate,” Lucas said bitterly, ignoring her denial. “No matter how charming this Orion guy is or how many times he lends you his jacket, don’t forget that he is the Heir to two Houses and you are the Heir to another. You can never commit yourselves to each other.”

“Okay. I’ll try to resist marrying him at that cute little chapel in hell. You know, the one right next to the festering pit of dead bodies?” Helen seethed. She wanted to scream at him, but forced herself to keep her voice down. “This is ridiculous! Why are you even saying all this to me?”

“Because I don’t want you getting sidetracked by some trashy piece of Roman eye candy.”

“Don’t talk about Orion like that,” Helen said in a low, cautioning voice. “He’s my friend.”

Helen had seen Lucas get angry plenty of times before, but she’d never heard him put anyone down so callously. It was beneath him. He seemed to sense her disappointment and had to look away for a moment, like he was disappointed in himself, too.

“Fine. Have your friend,” Lucas said calmly, his face controlled again. “Just remember that this is your task. The Oracle said you were the one who has to complete it. Don’t get confused. What you’re attempting to do in the Underworld is so difficult that the Tyrant might not need to fight you to get you to fail. Maybe all he needs to do is distract you.”

Suddenly, Helen was sick of getting lectured by Lucas. He didn’t have the right to tell her how to behave, and he certainly didn’t have to remind her what her duty was. She took a step closer to him.