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

  your ass to my house.”

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  “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

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  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

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  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

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  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,

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  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

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  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?”

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  “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.

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  “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.

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  “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