Goddess (Starcrossed 3)

“Why? Why is this happening to me?” she asked fearfully. “The last thing I need are more powers.”

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out,” he promised.

“You figure out everything,” she murmured, adoring him.

“You figured out which river the Furies needed to drink from. Not me.”

“Yeah, but you helped. You always do.” Hating the inches of cold air between them, she slid closer to him, painfully aware that they were both in their underwear.

His bare shoulders curved toward her, and his chin tilted down to come level with her mouth. With her new talent, Helen could see gold clouds spilling out of his skin in puffy gusts and a warm fire flickering low in his belly. Lucas reached out for her, his lips parting, eyes closing.

He stopped. The glorious golden haze that was enveloping them froze in midair, solidified, and dropped to the ground in shards. Lucas’s bright blue eyes darkened as the shadow slipped in and snuffed out his inner light.

“That’s why you should come and talk to me when you’re confused, Helen,” Lucas said heavily, and pulled back. “No matter what happens between you and Orion, I’ll always be here to help you work out your problems. Even if it means I have to get my ass kicked first.” He turned away, wiping blood out of his eye and flicking it onto the mat.

“Does that hurt?” Helen swallowed and stopped herself from reaching out and touching his wound—stopped herself from leaning forward and throwing her arms around him, really.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not compared to the rest of it.”

Helen stayed in the ring long after Lucas left. She started to get cold sitting on the mat in nothing but her skivvies, and eventually forced herself to stand up and find her clothes. Jeans in one hand, she was hunting around for her shirt when she heard the door open.

“Why are you practically naked?” Hector yelled from the top of the stairs.

Helen didn’t even bother to jump or get embarrassed. It was only Hector, coming back at just the wrong moment to mess with her, as usual. She finally understood her contentious but still deeply caring relationship with Hector. It wasn’t exactly like brother and sister, and it never had been.

She’d been married to the guy once, and from the snippets that Helen could vaguely recall, neither of them had been too happy about that fact even though they had tried their best to make it work. Sort of like being permanently handcuffed to someone that you love, but who also really annoys you.

“Lucas and I had a fight

,” Helen said, figuring it was easier to just say it than make him wheedle it out of her. Hector came down the stairs while Helen yanked on her jeans.

“Uh-huh. And your clothes got so sick of all the bitching and moaning they jumped off your body and ran away?”

Helen had to laugh at that one. “No. We finally decided to smack each other around physically instead of just emotionally for a change.” She motioned to the ring with her chin while she zipped.

“Funny, but you don’t look beat up. Tousled, yeah. Beat up? No,” he said, raising an eyebrow and holding out her dark, V-neck sweater. She ignored his suggestive comment. Helen took her warm top and gladly pulled it on, and then looked at Hector carefully.

“How’re you doing?” she asked pointedly.

Hector shrugged and turned away, heading toward one of the heavy bags. “I’m fine. I don’t know why you and Orion are all worked up about Andy.”

“You are so full of it,” Helen snipped, but not unkindly, as she followed him. She stood on the other side of the bag and held it steady so he could hit. “You’re hiding down here. Same as me.”

Hector started to jab the bag, giving it halfhearted whacks at best. He slowly amped up the intensity. Moving her feet as he worked his way through a few combinations, Helen watched Hector’s face harden and take on the set of a real fighter.

No, more than that, she thought. He’s a warrior, right out of some legend.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she saw his demeanor lose all its ferocity, and something vulnerable and sad moved in and stilled his restless body.

“She can’t stand the sight of me, Helen. The one girl, the only girl who’s ever really shook me up—and I horrify her.” He dropped his fists and leaned into the bag, facing Helen. “I could take it if she thought I was an idiot or a pig. Eventually, I’d prove to her I wasn’t. But fear?” He shook his head. “I’ve got no chance. I can’t chase her because that’s what he did. The only thing I can do is stay away from her, like she told me to. The problem is . . . I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Helen said sadly, hugging the other side of the bag.

“Oh, the irony. Right?” he joked, and then frowned suddenly. “But you’ve got other possibilities.”

“And you don’t?” Helen laughed. “Or is it just that you’ve already slept with every other hot girl in the world, and there’s no one left?”

“I’m serious,” Hector said, no longer smiling. “Do you feel anything for Orion, or is it like you and Matt? He’s too much of a pal to you?”