“Really!” he exclaimed, completely shocked. “Why?”
“I want to learn how to protect myself.”
Helen realized how true it was as she said it. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding behind other people. Eventually, she would run out of champions—especially if she kept stabbing them in the chest.
Orion should have texted her by now. Where was he?
“Oh. Okay.” Jerry scowled as he collected his thoughts. “Lennie, I give up. Are you and Lucas dating or not? Because I can’t figure it out, Kate can’t figure it out, and you look really miserable. I’m assuming you two broke up, but if you did, then why? Did he do something to you?”
“He didn’t do anything, Dad. It’s not like that at all,” Helen mumbled. She was still incapable of saying Lucas’s name. “We’re just friends.”
“Friends. Really? Lennie, you look like the walking dead.”
Helen stifled a bitter laugh and shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got the flu or something. Don’t worry. I’ll get over it.”
“Are we talking about the flu or Lucas?”
Helen’s phone buzzed. She dove for it—Orion!—but it was Claire, asking where she was.
“What’s wrong now?” Jerry asked.
“Huh? Nothing,” Helen responded, still staring at her phone. Why hadn’t Orion texted her yet?
“You look disappointed.”
“I g
otta go. Claire’s coming up the street,” she lied, ignoring her father’s comment about being disappointed—which she wasn’t, she told herself. She was worried, and that was different.
What had Orion done to her? She knew this wasn’t normal. She felt like her brain had been hijacked, and apparently, her skin had gone along for the ride, too. She could still feel his hands on her, and she knew she wasn’t just imagining it. She could feel points of pressure on the small of her back, like his fingers were pressing into her. She felt him tug on her hips, pulling her closer to him, even though she knew he was miles away on the mainland.
She put a hand out to steady herself and counted to three. The feeling that he was holding her hips in his hands receded, but it didn’t entirely go away. Rushing to get away from so many impossible sensations, she kissed her dad good-bye, put on her shoes and coat, and hurried out of the house.
The steps swam in front of her and a familiar scent lingered on the breeze. Helen spun on her heel and twisted her head around to find the source of it. Disoriented, she fell to her knees and held her arms out, groping around like she had been blindfolded. Something was terribly wrong with her eyes. The sky in front of her looked mismatched, as if it had been ripped apart and then hastily stitched back together a millimeter or two askew.
Helen felt heat—wonderful, comforting heat in a sea of cold. Some invisible sun was warming her ever so slightly. She closed her eyes and held out her hand to touch the warmth that hung a shadow’s width away, but as she reached out to touch it, it bled into the cold October air and disappeared.
Hot tears stung Helen’s out-of-focus eyes. She felt as if she had just been denied something she needed so desperately. Helen swatted at the empty air with her hands, but there was nothing there.
Come to me, Dreamless One. I miss holding you in my arms.
Helen froze and looked around. She had heard a man whisper—but from where?
The sound had come from inside her own mind, but the voice had definitely not been hers. It had sounded so soothing. Helen wanted to hear it again.
Getting up off her knees, Helen glanced around self-consciously at the neighbors’ windows, hoping none of them had seen her. She didn’t know how to explain her momentary freak-out to anyone, least of all to herself. A terrifying thought crossed her mind. Blurry vision, disrupted balance, and hot and cold flashes were all known side effects of sleep deprivation. So was dementia. It was possible that she had imagined the whole thing, including the voice.
Helen knew she couldn’t afford to panic. She shook off the fear. Jogging a ways down the street, she made sure no one was watching and then took to the air. Moments later, she landed in the Deloses’ arena, right next to Ariadne and Matt, who were already in the middle of a training session. Matt screamed like a little girl.
“What the hell, Lennie!” He scrambled through the sand to regain his lost footing. “You just fell out of the frigging sky!”
“Sorry! I didn’t think,” Helen apologized.
She’d forgotten that Matt had never really seen her fly, but she had been so surprised that Matt and Ariadne were practicing openly that she had forgotten to come in for an easy landing. She was about to ask if Matt had somehow convinced Ariadne’s father that he should be trained when she heard Claire cracking up in the corner.
“Jeez, Matt! I haven’t heard you hit a note that high since the fifth grade.” Claire cradled the leather-bound book she was reading to her chest as she shook with laughter.
“Ha. Ha.” Apparently, Matt was not up to being teased just then. He turned to Helen with a stern face. “What are you doing out here, Len? Aren’t you supposed to be in the library with Cassandra?”