Goddess (Starcrossed)

rejecting it vehemently enough. “It’s too much power.”
    Hades pushed back the cowl covering his head, removed the Helm of Darkness, and banished the shadows that clung to him. Staring back at Helen was a face she knew and loved dearly.
    “There will be many Scions who will agree with that statement. Many beings, both mortal and immortal, will stop at nothing to keep you from claiming your true power.” Hades’ bright green eyes were dimmed by sadness. “If you build a world, many forces will try to rip it down. You and your Scion alliance will have to fight to defend it, and many of you may die, just as the gods want.”
    “So I won’t build a world.”
    Hades took her hand. “The Fates will make sure you have no choice.”
    “No,” Helen said, shaking her head stubbornly. “I refuse to believe three crones run my life. I won’t build a world if the cost is that my friends and family must go to war. If I never build my own world, the gods won’t challenge us, and no one has to fight.”
    “You are brave and compassionate, as a Worldbuilder should be, and I am very proud of you. But a war is coming to your shores, niece,” Hades said sadly. “You, like your namesake before you, must decide how to meet it.”

SEVEN
    T he shrill chirp of a cell phone parted Helen’s reluctant eyelids. It was still dark out, and dawn was a long way off. Underneath her, Orion shook himself awake and reached for his jeans that were draped over Helen’s back like a shawl. His fingers fumbling with cold and sleepiness, he finally managed to dig his cell phone out of his pocket and answer before it stopped ringing.
    “’Lo?” he grumbled, his voice still half asleep. “Hey, bro. Yeah, she’s safe. She’s right here with me.”
    Helen focused her hearing so she could listen in.
    “Oh. Good,” Lucas said over the phone in a leaden tone. “Can you both come back to my house? Cassandra is about to make a prophecy. She’s been asking for you specifically, Orion. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
    Helen’s eyes met Orion’s as they flared in understanding.
    “We’re on our way now. Luke, wait. . . .” Orion said, but it was too late. Lucas had hung up. Orion gave Helen a sheepish look. “Sorry ’bout that.”
    “Why? Maybe it’s better if he thinks we slept together. Maybe he’ll . . .” She trailed off when she saw the doubtful look on Orion’s face.
    “He’s not going to get over you, Helen. Doesn’t matter how many men you spend the night with.”
    Helen nodded, accepting this. Orion looked Helen over and changed the subject.
    “Where’d you get the clothes?” he asked.
    “I sort of called them into existence in the Underworld.”
    “How long were you down there for?” he asked, starting to get concerned. “What happened?”
    Helen debated telling Orion everything that Hades told her. But after the night they’d just had, how was she supposed to tell Orion that his mother had fought in a war that drove her insane because of a misunderstood prophecy about a place that didn’t even frigging exist anymore? She didn’t know if she would ever be able to tell him that. Instead, she just shrugged.
    “Let me guess,” he said, turning away so he could shake the sand out of his jeans. “It’s another long story. You’re going to have to start telling me some of these long stories of yours at some point, you know.”
    “I know,” Helen said as she stood and brushed herself off. “I just need some time to sort through it all first.”
    Helen knew that Orion could see the confusion swirling around inside of her, but he didn’t push her to confide in him. Instead, he dressed and then turned to her with his arms out.
    “Can I get a lift?” he asked with a cheeky smile. Helen wrapped her arms around him and got them airborne, chuckling as she did so. Encouraged by her laughter, Orion kept joking. “Captain? Are there drinks on this flight? I think I have a fake ID here somewhere.”
    “A fake ID? Why would I serve you if you just admitted you were underage?”
    “So there are drinks,” he persisted in a mock-serious tone. “I’m not surprised. Look at all the pockets you conjured up for yourself.” He started frisking Helen, humorously cramming his hands into her cargo pants and digging around in her jacket like the nation’s security depended on it. “Of all the getups in the world you could have imagined for yourself and you pick something I’d go hunting in. Never