She was just in a house, an endless house with no exits.
These visits to the parts of the Underworld where she was in no immediate danger lasted the longest and ended up being the hardest in the long run. Thirst, hunger, and the crushing loneliness she suffered—these were the worst kind of punishment. Hell didn’t need lakes of fire to torment. Time and solitude were enough.
Helen sat down under the bricked-up window, thinking about having to spend the rest of her life in a House where she wasn’t welcome.
It started pouring rain right in the middle of football practice, and then everything went sideways. All the guys started throwing each other around, sliding in the mud, really tearing up the turf. Coach Brant finally gave up and sent everyone home. Lucas watched Coach as they all packed it in, and could tell he wasn’t really into the practice to begin with. His son, Zach, had quit the team the day before. From what everyone said, Coach hadn’t taken it well, and Lucas wondered how bad the fight had gotten. Zach hadn’t been in school that day.
Lucas sympathized with Zach. He knew what it was like to have a father who was disappointed in you.
“Luke! Let’s go! I’m freezing,” Jason hollered. He was already stripping off his gear on his way to the locker room, and Lucas ran to catch up.
They rushed to get home, both of them hungry and wet, and walked right into the kitchen. Helen and Claire were in there with Lucas’s mom. The girls’ track uniforms were soaked through, and they hovered expectantly by Noel with excited looks on their faces while they dabbed at themselves with towels. At first, all Lucas could see was Helen. Her hair was tangled and her long, bare legs glistened with rain.
Then he heard a whispering in his ear, and a flare of hate flashed through him. His mother was on the phone. The voice on the other end was Hector’s.
“No, Lucas. Don’t,” Helen said in a quavering voice. “Noel, hang up!”
Lucas and Jason rushed toward the source of the Outcast’s voice, compelled by the Furies. Helen stepped in front of Noel. All she did was hold out her hands in a “stop” gesture, and the cousins ran into her hands like they were running into a solid wall. They were thrown back onto the floor, gasping for air. Helen didn’t budge an inch.
“I’m so sorry!” Helen said, crouching over them with an anxious look on her face. “But I couldn’t let you tackle Noel.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lucas groaned, rubbing his chest. He had no idea Helen was that strong, but he couldn’t have been happier that she was. His mother had a shocked look on her face, but both she and Claire were fine. That was all that mattered.
“Uuuhh,” Jason added, agreeing with Lucas. Claire crouched down next to him and patted him sympathetically while he rolled around, trying to get his breath back.
“I wasn’t expecting you boys home so soon,” Noel stammered. “He usually calls when he knows you’ll be at practice. . . .”
“It’s not your fault, Mom,” Lucas said, cutting her off. He hauled Jason to his feet. “You okay, bro?”
“No,” Jason replied honestly. He took a few more breaths and finally stood all the way up, the blow to his chest no longer the thing hurting him. “I hate this.”
The cousins shared a pained look. They both missed Hector and couldn’t stand what the Furies did to them. Jason suddenly turned and walked out the door, out into the rain.
“Jason, wait,” Claire called, hurrying to follow him.
“I didn’t think you’d be home this early,” Noel repeated, more to herself than anyone else, like she couldn’t let it go. Lucas went to his mother and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” he told her in a choked voice.
He had to get out of there. Still wrestling with the knot in his throat, he went upstairs to change. Halfway down the hall to his room and half out of his clothes, he heard Helen’s voice behind him.
“I used to think you were a good liar,” she said softly. “But not even I bought it when you said ‘it’ll be fine.’”
Lucas dropped his sodden shirt on the floor and turned back to Helen, too wrung out to resist. He pulled her to him and let his face rest against her neck. She fitted herself against him, taking his weight as his big shoulders curved over and around her, and held him until he was calm enough to speak.
“A part of me wants to go find him. Hunt him down,” he confided, not able to tell this to anyone but Helen. “Every night I dream about how I tried to kill him with my bare hands on the steps of the library. I can see myself hitting him over and over, and I wake up thinking maybe this time I have killed him. And I feel relieved. . . .”
“Shh-shh.” Helen ran her hand across his wet hair, smoothing it down and gripping his neck, his shoulders, the bunched muscles of his back—tucking him closer to her. “I’ll fix it,” she vowed. “I swear to you, Lucas, I’ll find the Furies and stop them.”
Lucas pulled back so he could look at Helen, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t mean to put more pressure on you. It kills me that this is all on you.”
“I know.”
That was it. No blame, no “pity me.” Just acceptance. Lucas stared at her, running his fingers over her perfect face.
He loved her eyes. They were always changing, and Lucas liked to catalogue all their different colors in his mind. When she laughed, her eyes were pale amber, like honey sitting in a glass jar on a sunny window. When he kissed her, they darkened until they were the rich color of mahogany leather, but with strips of red and gold thread shot through. Right now they were turning dark—inviting him to lower his lips to hers.
“Lucas!” his father barked. Helen and Lucas sprang apart and turned to see Castor at the top of the stairs, his face white and his body stiff. “Put a shirt on and come to my study. Helen, go home.”
“Dad, she didn’t . . .”
“Now!” Castor yelled. Lucas couldn’t remember ever seeing his father this angry.
Helen fled. She squeezed past Castor with her head bowed and ran out of the house before Noel could ask what had happened.
“Sit.”
“It was my fault. She was worried about me,” Lucas began, his stance defiant.
“I don’t care,” Castor said, his eyes burning into Lucas’s. “I don’t care how innocently it started. It ended with you half naked, your arms around her, and the two of you just steps away from your bed.”
“I wasn’t going to—” Lucas couldn’t even finish that lie. He was going to kiss her, and he knew if he kissed her he would have kept going until either Helen or a cataclysm stopped him. The truth was, it didn’t really bother Lucas anymore that some uncle he never met was Helen’s father. He loved her, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how wrong everyone said it was.
“Let me explain something to you.”
“We’re cousins. I know,” Lucas interrupted. “Don’t you think I realize that she’s as closely related to me as Ariadne? It doesn’t feel like that.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Castor said darkly. “Scions have been plagued with incest since Oedipus. And there have been others in this House who have fallen in love with their first cousins, like you and Helen have.”