Helen opened her mouth to argue and immediately shut it again. Lucas was right. Seeing her father so ill made her feel helpless and useless. She had gotten accustomed to being the one who had to fight all the tough fights, but she wasn't the one caught up in this battle. Her father was, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

She needed to pummel something or someone-anything to release the infuriating tension she felt sitting on the sidelines while her father struggled. And Lucas knew that because he knew her. Helen let her arms relax. Her hips swayed slightly toward him, like a challenge.

"Let's go," she said, her voice humming deep in her chest.

A muscle in his jaw pumped as Lucas clenched his teeth. Heat rolled off his skin like his blood was boiling. Helen could smell him-baking bread and new snow, hot and cold, sunshine and darkness-all opposites that should cancel each other out, but that somehow managed to live next to each other inside Lucas. Helen shut her eyes and breathed him in shamelessly.

Lucas pulled away. He yanked hard on her arm and snapped her out of the spell. It really ticked her off when he bossed her around like that, and she had no doubt he knew it, too. She wrenched her wrist out of his grip and shoved him toward the stairs. His back stiff in front of her, Helen stormed after Lucas as he led her through the house and down to the fight cage.

As soon as they reached the steps to the bas.e.m.e.nt level, they started stripping off clothes. No shoes, no jewelry, no belts, no hard or sharp objects of any kind were allowed in the cage, but they couldn't be bothered to put on softer gear to replace what they shucked off so frantically. Every time Helen removed another article of clothing, all she could think about was how much she wanted to tear into him.

The jumble of "other" Helens inside her head made it worse. In most of her memories, he'd been forbidden to her, dangling just out of her reach over and over again. She was so frustrated, she didn't need the Furies to want to kill him anymore. And she could tell by the sound of ripping fabric as he wrenched his shirt off, and the slap of leather as he yanked his belt from the loops on his jeans, that Lucas was just as fed up with their impossible situation as she was.

By the time they got to the ring, they were so worked up they barely shut the door of the cage before they began to whale on each other.

Helen started it. She threw her right and punched Lucas in the face. At the last second he deflected most of the blow and swept her legs out from under her, trying to bring the fight immediately to the floor, which was his specialty.

She rolled and leapt up before he could capture her under him, taking another swing at him as she did so. He brought his arms up to block, ate a few more shots as he pulled her into a clinch, and then pushed Helen back against the chain-link fence. He leaned his shoulder into her sternum, pressing the air out of her lungs as he tied up her hands.

"What did you and Orion talk about in the hall after breakfast?" he hissed into her ear.

"Who said we were talking?" She said it on purpose to get to him, and it worked. A pained look crossed his face, and Helen took the opportunity to break one of her wrists from his hold and hit him in the gut.

Lucas grunted and lunged down to take her leg out. He slammed Helen into the mat and, wrenching her thighs apart, he took position between them. She pulled guard under him-wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and squeezing hard to cut off his air.

"I heard you talking," he growled through gritted teeth. He was using all his strength to try to pin her arms down. "And it's kinda hard to talk when your tongue's in someone else's mouth."

She glared up at him, not answering his question.

"Tell me what you told him, Helen!" he yelled into her face.

If this were an MMA fight, the guy on top would start hammering on the guy under him in a move called "ground and pound." But Lucas didn't hit her. In fact, Helen realized that although his cheek was bruised, and he was bleeding from a cut over his eye, he hadn't taken one swing at her. He was doing this for her, so she could work out her frustration. He was trying to help her.

When she realized this, Helen's anger evaporated and she went still. She didn't need to be able to see through his chest to know how much he loved her. He was constantly proving it by how much of her c.r.a.p he was willing to take.

"I can see emotions, like someone from the House of Rome can, and I have no idea why," she admitted with an exasperated sigh. Lucas stared down at her with a startled look as she struggled to continue. "And I didn't tell Orion this, but I think I can control other people's hearts, too."

"Keep going," he said when she paused again.

"I made the police officer who was guarding Andy let us into her room-and he didn't even ask us our names. At first, I just thought it was the whole 'face that launched a thousand ships' thing. It happens sometimes with men. But the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that wasn't it. I did something to his heart. It feels wrong to do that to someone."

"Huh." Lucas released her slowly and sat back on his heels, frowning.

Helen sat up and rubbed her sore wrists, waiting for him to be ready to share what was going on in his head.

"Look at me," he said suddenly, leaning close and locking eyes with her. "You're the only girl I've ever kissed."

"Liar," Helen said so fast she practically cut him off. He flashed a grin at her and quickly dropped it again, gazing at her levelly.

"How do you know I'm lying?"

"Apart from the fact that I'm pretty sure you've done a heck of a lot more than just kiss other girls? Something was wrong in your voice, I guess. Also a feeling, like . . ."

"Like you'd lost something. And you needed to find it." She nodded, agreeing with him. He stared at her for a moment, blank-faced. "You're a Falsefinder, Helen. You can hear lies."

"But how?"

"Our blood," he said, nodding his head as if he could hear the truth in his own words. "When you, Orion, and I became blood brothers, you absorbed some of our talents through our blood. I haven't noticed any new talents in myself, and I don't think Orion has either or he'd have mentioned it while we were healing together. But apparently, you got something from both of us. You took Orion's talent to control hearts, and my talent to recognize lies." He c.o.c.ked his head to the side. "Maybe you took even more than that," he whispered to himself, still mulling it over. Helen stared at him.

"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 a.s.s 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 embarra.s.sed. 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 b.i.t.c.hing 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?"

"No, that's definitely not it." She thought about what Morpheus had revealed to her-that in some ways she might want Orion even more than she wanted Lucas. "I'm really attracted to Orion."

"And do you care about him?"

"A lot."

"Then commit yourself to him." Hector regarded Helen with complete candor. "They're both waiting for you to make a choice. And none of you are going to move on until you do. You, Helen. You have to make this choice."

Helen wanted to shout "Lucas," but she pictured the disgusted look that she knew Hector would give her for preferring her cousin over Orion, and swallowed Lucas's name. "I have," she said with more conviction than she felt. "I have," she repeated.

Hector smirked at her. "The first time you said, 'I have' was pretty believable. The second? Not so much."

"What am I going to do?" she groaned in response, hitting her forehead against the bag. "I feel like a Ping-Pong ball."

"I think we both need to get out of here and do something useful." He caught her around the neck in a playful headlock and led her toward the stairs. "Come on, Princess. Let's go see if your father's store is still standing."

Hector and Helen loaded some spare lumber from the shed, a tool kit, and a box of nails into the back of Hector's truck. After a brief argument about whether or not Hector should take the chance of being seen, it became apparent that if he didn't get out of the house that currently sheltered Andy, he was going to run screaming through the streets, anyway, so Helen reluctantly agreed. She put her foot down about who drove, though. Helen took the wheel for the trip past her house to make sure it was okay, and then on to the News Store while Hector hid in the back.

Hector stayed out of sight inside the store, sweeping up gla.s.s and debris left over from the riot while Helen took the ladder from the storeroom out to the front and began nailing boards over the broken windows. It was depressing work. Every time she looked around, Helen was reminded that the store could be rebuilt, but it would never be the same again. Not really. As she climbed a ladder and started boarding up the smashed front windows, Helen realized that some things stay a little bit broken forever-even after they've been fixed.

Lost in her thoughts, Helen didn't notice that someone had come up behind her on the sidewalk.

"You know what? If that board was any more crooked, it'd come back 'round the other way and be straight as an arrow," Orion said from the ground behind her, like he was in awe of how rotten a job she'd done. "Are you drunk?"

Helen's shoulders started shaking with laughter. "No! I've never done this before!"

"Apparently." He grinned up at her and motioned for her to come down off the ladder. Laughing, she climbed down and stood next to him. "Still got both your thumbs?" he asked, inspecting her hands. He took the hammer away from her like it might bite her. "Better give this to the professional."

"Professional, huh?" Helen didn't doubt it. She'd taken a peek at his driver's license when she'd accidentally stolen his jacket and wallet, and she knew that he was cleared to operate heavy machinery.

"I've worked a couple of construction sites. Built some houses," he said, a cagey smile on his face, like he'd done more than just that.

"Jewelry maker, carpenter . . . you're a real jack-of-all-trades," she said, smiling up at him.

"Yeah. Of all trades that pay jack," he added with a shy chuckle.

"Hey, you're a son of Aphrodite. You could have taken the easy way out. Puckered up those pretty lips for some rich woman and made her fall so madly in love with you she just had to give you a diamond mine or something." Helen grinned up at him, loving how he always downplayed his talents-and not just the Scion ones. "But you didn't. You work for your money."

"All five dollars of it," he said, rolling his eyes.

"An honest buck may not buy any more groceries than a dishonest one, but it'll always be worth more. Especially to me," she replied seriously. He was a self-made man, just like her dad, and she respected that quality in him the most because his dignity was something he earned, not something he was born with.

"Hey, Orion? Put some pants on, toss her over your shoulder, and carry her off like a man, for the love of Pete!" Hector hollered from inside. Orion cringed and shared a pained look with Helen.

"The caveman approach," he whispered to Helen conspiratorially. "Not really my style."

"Ah, Hector. Our loveable lug," Helen replied quietly. Their heads leaned close as they shared a m.u.f.fled chuckle.

"Kiss. Kiss. Kiss," Hector chanted, peeking at them between the misaligned slats over the broken window.

"Can I bring you on all of my dates?" Orion asked Hector, clapping his hands together in mock excitement.

"Sure, buddy! I'll walk you through the whole thing," Hector replied with a wicked grin. "First, you take the girl and grab her by the . . ."

"And this is exactly why I'm so glad testosterone isn't contagious," Helen said loudly, cutting Hector off. She shoved Orion up the ladder to fix the mess she'd made, and went inside to help Hector finish cleaning up.

Somehow, between all the horsing around, they managed to get the whole store boarded up, swept, and emptied of all the rotting perishables. Every now and again Helen would run across something personal amidst the smashed debris-an ill-shaped macaroni "I LOVE MY DADDY" sculpture she'd made in elementary school, a b.u.t.t-ugly, heavy-as-a-horseshoe pot she'd made for Kate when she was trying to learn how to throw clay freshman year, and a bunch of second-place trophies from running track.

Worst of all were the photos. It killed her to see the broken frames and the smashed gla.s.s that nicked the pictures, ruining them. Some of the shots had been hanging in the store since she was a little girl. She'd seen them every day and, as she tossed most of them in the garbage, she was all-too aware that she'd never see them again.

Each time Helen came across one of these emotionally charged items, she noticed that either Hector or Orion would crack a joke or do something goofy to snap her out of it. She knew what they were up to, but that only made their lame attempts to cheer her up all the more touching.

They knew it wasn't really about losing a bunch of stuff. When Orion and Hector were goofing off to distract her, she couldn't think too much about what was really bothering her-that her father didn't seem to be getting better. Losing the pictures, the macaroni sculpture, and the hideous attempt at pottery were nothing compared to the fear she felt when she pictured her father lying unconscious in a bed. Why couldn't he wake up?

She wanted to say something to them both, to thank them for helping her get through this, but she knew enough about these two guys to keep her mouth shut. Hector would only tease her if she got all sincere on him, and Orion already knew how grateful she was because he could see right through her-literally. So Helen mentally filed away the hours they spent digging through her mugged childhood, knowing that she could never truly repay them for what they did for her.

"So . . . Hector's going to take the truck back," Orion said, interrupting Helen's sad thoughts. "By himself."

"Huh?" Helen said blankly. "No. Hector shouldn't drive. He can't be seen."

"I won't be. It's too dark now. No one will be able to recognize me," Hector said. "And I can blur myself a bit if I hit oncoming lights-which I probably won't."

Helen looked around and noticed that he was right. At some point when she wasn't paying attention, the sun had set. It was nighttime, and no one was on the streets to begin with. Not many people had ventured out of their houses since the riots. Nantucket Island had been like a ghost town for days now.

"Okay, I guess you're right. Thanks for helping me out today," Helen said to Hector, giving him a hug. She stopped herself before she got all mushy and said something he would find unforgivably sentimental.

"Have fun tonight, Princess." Hector replied, his voice uncommonly soft as he released her. He looked at Orion and nodded once, and then turned to leave without one joke or snide remark.

Helen took Orion's hand shyly, knowing that Hector had just given them the chaperone's equivalent of a Hergie hall pa.s.s. No matter what the two of them did that night, they could be a.s.sured that Hector wouldn't put them in detention for it.

"So," she said, looking up at Orion. Her throat was suddenly dry and she swallowed. "You said you wanted to show me something?"