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      “Your moves aren’t so hard to anticipate,” he sneered. “Now get

      your ass to my house.”

      230/395

      “I don’t want to practice anymore. It’s pointless,” Helen called

      over her shoulder as she turned on her heel to walk away. “I just

      want to be left alone.”

      “You want to be left alone, huh, Princess? Sorry, it doesn’t work

      that way,” he said as he grabbed her shoulders and spun her

      around. That did it for her. She gave one hysterical laugh—it was

      either that or start crying—and shoved Hector away from her.

      Hard.

      “What are you going to do? What? Are you going to beat me to

      death? You can’t! You’re not strong enough,” Helen said as she hit

      him repeatedly on the shoulders, trying to instigate a fight. “So go

      get a sword. Go ahead. Oh, wait, I forgot. That doesn’t hurt me,

      either. So what are you going to do, you big bully? What do you

      have to teach me?”

      “Humility,” he said quietly. He moved fast, but he was also bending

      the light funny the way Lucas did. While she was still trying to

      focus her eyes, pissed that she hadn’t even considered that Hector

      could have this talent as well, Hector grabbed her, threw her over

      his shoulder, and started walking toward the water.

      Enraged, Helen used her full strength against him for the first

      time. She didn’t care how much she hurt him. She pushed until she

      unlocked herself from Hector’s grip. She heard his arm break as

      she physically separated herself from him. Then she changed states

      to fly away. As she summoned a wind to take her away, he grabbed

      her with his other hand. His more dominant hand. Helen realized,

      a bit too late, that Hector had allowed her to break his left arm so

      that she would chose weightlessness—weightlessness and momentary

      weakness. Before she could digest what he was doing and shift

      back to the gravity-state to get enough purchase to push him off, he

      dragged her easily into the water where her weight mattered not at

      all.

      Hector walked right into the water and trudged down, down,

      down until they were both completely submerged under what

      231/395

      seemed to Helen like fathoms of dark water. She struggled uselessly.

      This was Hector’s element and he had complete control. He

      could even speak and be heard underwater.

      “You aren’t the only one with talents, Princess,” he said.

      There were no bubbles streaming out of his mouth, just clear

      speech. He could breathe, he could talk, he could walk on the

      seabed as if he was walking on firm ground. Helen finally understood

      why Hector terrified her so much. He was an ocean creature,

      and she was deathly afraid of the ocean.

      Ever since she’d almost drowned as a child, Helen had suspected

      that the ocean had it in for her, but she’d never told anyone that

      because she was pretty sure they would think she was crazy. Now,

      almost a decade later, as she looked into Hector’s blank blue eyes,

      she knew she had been right. Helen bucked and squirmed under

      Hector’s relentless grip. Great gouts of bubbles flew from her

      mouth as she screamed in soundless panic. She scratched at his

      face and kicked her feet, but there was nothing she could do to

      make him let her go. She was going to drown.

      Acid fizzed in her veins and the edges of her vision smudged as

      she started to black out. As her eyes closed, she felt him tug on her

      legs as he towed her back to shore. He hauled her out of the water

      by an ankle and swung her over his head and down onto the sand

      like a mallet, hard enough to dislodge the liquid from her lungs.

      She puked burning salt water and coughed until her inner ears

      stung and she could hear the blood thumping in her head.

      “If you had been training with me today, you would have known

      that you can use your bolts underwater,” he said, yanking on his

      broken arm to straighten out the bones with a sickening crack. He

      screamed and fell to his knees, panting for a moment before continuing

      through gritted teeth. “But you didn’t show up for

      practice.”

      They sat next to each other on the sand for a while, both of them

      too injured to move. As they healed, the setting sun seemed to give

      232/395

      up on the day and jump headlong into the water. The sky grew

      dark.

      “I thought you were descended from Apollo,” Helen rasped.

      Her vocal cords were still damaged, but she didn’t need to say

      anything more, anyway. Hector didn’t come off like the smartest

      member of the Delos clan, but Helen was starting to suspect that

      even if he didn’t spend as much time reading books as Cassandra

      did, he was every bit as clever as the rest of his family.

      “A minor sea goddess called a Nereid mixed with our House

      somewhere along the way. There are a lot of minor gods and spirits

      of the water or the woods still running around here and there, and

      things happen over thousands of years. None of the House lines

      are purely descended from one god or another anymore, and all

      the younger generation of Scions have more talents than their parents,”

      he answered.

      “Why is that?”

      “Cassandra thinks is has something to do with the Fates wanting

      the Scions to acquire more talents and become more powerful so

      they can rule Atlantis, but personally I just think it’s because we’re

      all mutts. My great-great-grandfather sleeps with a nymph, and I

      get to walk underwater. You don’t need the Fates to explain that

      one.”

      “Is that how you knew I can drown? Because you have power

      over water?”

      “That was common sense. And I don’t have power over water, I’m

      just at home in it,” he said. He turned to look her in the eye. When

      he continued speaking it was in a tone that was excruciatingly similar

      to the voice Lucas used when he’d taught her to fly, and it

      tugged at Helen. “You don’t think like a fighter yet. You have all

      these amazing talents—talents most Scions would trade half the

      years of their lives for—but you can’t use them because you don’t

      think tactically. Just stop and use your head for a second. The

      ocean isn’t a weapon, but it can kill. The air isn’t a weapon, but if I

      233/395

      were to deprive you of it, you would die. The earth isn’t a

      weapon . . .” he began.

      “But if I were to slam into it hard enough . . . I get it,” she finished

      for him, swallowing hard and staring out at the unforgiving

      waves.

      “Water is your Achilles’ heel. It’s the one element you fear because

      you have no control over it.”

      Helen didn’t know how he had figured that out, but she knew he

      was right. Somehow, even when she had been ignorant of her abilities,

      she had known deep down on an unconscious level that she

      had less to fear from three of the four elements. She could command

      the air and summon winds, she could manipulate the gravity

      of the earth, and she could easily tolerate the heat of fire because in

      order for her to create lightning she had to be able to w
    ithstand

      temperatures that were hotter than any flame. But water was the

      one element that rendered her completely helpless. Finally, she understood

      her own fear, even if she wasn’t any closer to conquering

      it.

      “How could you have known that about me?” Helen asked,

      slightly awed.

      “Because I’ve been trained to think tactically and find my opponent’s

      weaknesses since the day I was born. You haven’t. There are

      so many ways to kill a person, Helen. You think you’re safe because

      you passed Cassandra’s test with the sword, but you’re not,” Hector

      said, his voice thick with frustration and worry. “I know you’re still

      in shock, but I don’t have time to wait for you to get comfortable

      with what you are. People are coming for you. You have to grow up,

      and you have to do it now or a lot of people are going to die. So go

      home. Eat something and get some rest. You look sick and I don’t

      want Luke blaming that on me. But tomorrow you come to train.

      No more excuses.”

      Without waiting for a response, Hector stood up and left her

      alone on the dark beach. She fiddled with her heart necklace,

      234/395

      running the charm along her lower lip as she sat there feeling

      ashamed of how she had acted. Her clothes were heavy with water,

      but she didn’t wring them out. She felt like she deserved to be waterlogged

      and uncomfortable a little longer.

      Obviously, she had to keep training with Hector, but that meant

      she had to go to the Delos house. That meant she had to see Lucas,

      and she absolutely could not do that. No matter how she turned it

      over in her mind she felt like she was choking whenever she

      thought about having to see him every day, knowing that he was

      forcing himself to be nice to her, that he probably pitied her. She

      still couldn’t figure out how she could have been so wrong about

      Lucas in the first place, and it stuck inside her like a splinter that

      can’t be found and dug out. She didn’t expect him to fall at her feet

      or anything, but to go from holding her hand everywhere they went

      to saying her would never touch her? How could that be?

      Unable to sit still with these thoughts in her head, Helen jumped

      up into the air with a little cry and let an easterly wind take her out

      over the water. For a few heartbeats she hung in a calm envelope of

      air as the stars switched on, desperately sucking up the beauty of

      that experience like it was emotional Novocain.

      When she was calmer, she circled higher and hitched a ride on a

      steady westerly gust that brought her back over the island. She was

      not a graceful flyer yet—in fact she was barely competent—but if

      she didn’t think about it too much she knew what to do to move

      herself along. She had no clear idea where to go, but suddenly she

      was freezing cold and in need of comfort. Without making a conscious

      choice, she found herself circling over Claire’s house.

      Helen alit in Claire’s front yard, and then realized that in her condition

      she couldn’t just go up and ring the bell. She was soaking

      wet and shaking with cold. Mr. and Mrs. Aoki would call her father

      immediately if they laid eyes on her like this.

      Circling the house on foot, Helen peeked inside the windows, trying

      to figure out where Claire was. She fished her cell phone out of

      235/395

      her jeans to call Claire and get her to come outside, and then

      smacked herself on the forehead when she saw that her two-dayold

      phone had been ruined by the salt water. She heard Claire

      yelling at her mother in Japanese as she stomped upstairs to her

      room. Claire’s bedroom light switched on, and she slammed her

      door shut behind her.

      It was a terrible way to come out to Claire, and Helen was vaguely

      aware of that fact as she floated toward the window and saw her

      best friend sitting on her bed with her mouth hanging open. Helen

      waited for her to scream, but when Claire didn’t, she motioned to

      the locked window.

      “Let me in,” she said urgently through her chattering teeth.

      “Oh, damn it. You are a vampire,” Claire said. She had a disappointed,

      but completely unsurprised expression on her face.

      “What the hell? No! Just open the window, Gig, I’m freezing!”

      Helen said in a loud whisper. Claire dragged herself off her bed

      and walked to the window with her shoulders slumping dejectedly.

      “I know it’s popular and all that, but I really don’t want you to

      suck my blood. It’s just so unsanitary!” Claire whined pitifully as

      she opened the window.

      She put a protective hand over her bare throat, but she still let

      Helen inside despite the danger, and that fact was not lost on

      Helen.

      “Oh, for the love of Pete, I’m not a frigging vampire, Gig! See? No

      fangs! No crazy eyes.” Helen lifted up her upper lip to expose entirely

      normal incisors, and then opened her eyes extra wide to

      show a complete lack of bloodlust.

      “All right! But it was a valid question, considering the circumstances!”

      Claire replied defensively as Helen wafted through the

      window and then transitioned into the gravity-state in front of her.

      “All right! I agree, it’s a valid concern,” Helen conceded, but

      something was wrong. “I just flew in your window. Why aren’t you

      more surprised?”

      236/395

      “I’ve known you could fly since we were kids. I even pushed you

      off your roof once to make sure. Sorry about that, by the way,” she

      said sheepishly.

      “You did push me!” Helen breathed, suddenly remembering the

      whole incident in a flash.

      They had been maybe seven years old and goofing off on Helen’s

      widow’s walk. Helen fell, but she never hit the ground. She’d sort

      of settled to earth like a leaf falling from a tree. Claire swore up and

      down that Helen had slipped, but Helen never remembered losing

      her balance, and because of the way Claire looked at her for weeks

      afterward, Helen had suspected something fishy before putting it

      out of her mind. Now it all made sense. Helen stared at Claire,

      speechless.

      “What? I didn’t think you’d die or anything! Long story short—I

      saw you not fall down my stairs the day before when you actually

      did slip, so I needed to test my theory,” Claire said as if it all made

      perfect sense.

      “By pushing me off the roof?”

      “You have no idea how angry I’ve been with you since then for

      keeping it from me! You can fly, Lennie, and you never told me!”

      Claire yelled, completely shifting the argument away from herself,

      but Helen decided that she should allow it, considering Claire’s obvious

      hurt.

      “I didn’t know until a few weeks ago!” Helen insisted.

      “You are such a liar!” Claire said, jabbing a fist against her hip.

      “It’s true! My mom put a curse on me when I was a baby so I

      wouldn’t be able to use my . . . Aw, crap! It would be so much easier

      if I was a vampire. Then you’d just understand!” Helen huffed,

      frustrated and feeling misunderstood. She paced around for a bit,


      raking her fingers through her tangled hair, before she was able to

      put her thoughts in order.

      237/395

      “Hergie made you read the Iliad, right? You remember how all

      the heroes had superhuman strength and they could do all kinds of

      things that normal people can’t?” she asked.

      “Yeah. That’s because they were demigods. But that wasn’t real,”

      Claire said like it was obvious. Then she got it. “Oh, my . . .”

      “I’m one of those hero’s descendents. We’re called Scions, and I

      have a whole bunch of powers—stuff you wouldn’t believe. But I

      had no idea what I was or what I could do until just days ago. I

      wish I could tell you everything, but I don’t know what I can or

      can’t say. Please, Gig. I know it sounds insane, but I’ve never lied to

      you. You just have to believe me.”

      “Okay,” Claire said, nodding her head once and looking Helen

      directly in the eye, as if she finally felt like she was getting the respect

      she deserved. “I’ve had this mostly figured out for a while

      now, you know. You found out that you were a demigod—how cool

      is that by the way?—when the Delos family moved here. Because

      they’re like you. I knew that as soon as I saw them. I just didn’t

      know what you all were.”

      “See?” Helen said with a flustered smile. “That’s why I had to tell

      you, I need to be able to talk to you about all this so you can help

      me figure it all out. But you can’t tell the Delos family I told you

      until I find out if that’s okay or not.”

      “It doesn’t matter. I can bluff, or pretend I guessed on my own. I

      sort of did, anyway,” Claire said with a satisfied smile. Then

      something occurred to her and made her switch to a more serious

      attitude. “Where have you been, by the way? And why are you such

      a damn mess?”

      Helen was about to explain what happened between her and

      Hector when Claire’s phone buzzed. Claire checked the text and

      then started typing in a response.

      “It’s Jason. I have to tell him you’re here, he’s been looking for

      you all day,” Claire told Helen. The phone buzzed again.

      238/395

      “It’s him.” She read the screen. “He wants me to keep you here.

      He’s on his way over.”

      “No! I’m not ready to talk to any of them yet!” Helen exclaimed,

      backing away.

      “Len, he’s really worried about you, they all are.”

      “I gotta get out of here,” Helen stammered. She ran a hand over

     


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