Starcrossed

Lucas said defiantly, still waiting for Helen to look at him, but she wouldn’t.
    “How? Are you ready to become a kin-killer? An Outcast?” Daphne asked harshly.
    Lucas snapped his head around to look at Daphne, responding to a phrase that he had been raised to abhor. For a moment he hated her, but only because she was right.
    “You can’t defend Helen against your own family—not to the death. I’m the only one who can protect her now,” Daphne continued, her tone suggesting that she was genuinely sorry for him. “And the best way for me to do that is to get her away from Creon.”
    “I won’t let him near her. I don’t care what I have to become,” Lucas said, preoccupied with Helen and troubled by the way she seemed to be avoiding him. He took her hands.
    “Lucas. Let me go,” Helen said quietly, pulling her hands out of his. He went silent, sensing something very wrong was about to happen. Again. “If you love me, you’ll let me go. Do you love me?” Her voice was so thin and papery it crackled.
    “You know I do,” he replied, confused. “If you’re frightened, run away with me , like we planned. You know we’re meant to be together, I know you can feel that, just like I do.”
    “I want you to let me go,” she said simply as she finally met his eyes and held them.
    Instead of thinking about the way Lucas’s face fell under the weight of his surprise and sadness, Helen imagined her heart as a giant tub full of water. Everything she had ever felt in her life, all the good and all bad, were just ribbons of food coloring in that water, and the whole beautiful mess was swirling down the drain. The only thing she needed to do was wait a few more seconds and the basin would be empty.
    “You can hear the truth in what I say, can’t you?” she continued mercilessly. “I want you to let me go.”
    Lucas caught his breath and held it for a long moment as he registered that Helen wasn’t lying to him. Then he nodded and breathed again, his face impassive.
    “I believe that you want to get away from me right now, but I also know what is going to happen , regardless of what anyone wants,” he said.
    “The Oracle!” Daphne exclaimed to herself, understanding Lucas’s meaning. “She survived her first prophecy? Is she still sane?” she asked breathlessly.
    He gave a curt nod in response to her insensitive questions.
    Daphne began to pace distractedly, as if a thousand thoughts had started elbowing around in her head. Suddenly, she stopped moving and stared at Lucas.
    “What did she say about us?” she asked.
    “That the beloved of Aphrodite were to find shelter in the House of Thebes,” Lucas replied, emotionless. “So you see, you will come back with me.”
    “Obviously,” Daphne said turning her palms up in acquiescence. “Helen, get your things.”
    Helen’s jaw dropped and she stared at her mother in disbelief. After everything Daphne had told her to get her away from the House of Thebes, this change didn’t make any sense.
    “But, we’ll miss the ferry. . . .” Helen stammered, still uncertain.
    “The Oracle has spoken,” Daphne said, shouldering her bag with a greedy look in her eyes. Helen had no idea what her mother was up to, but lacking any reason to object, she had no choice but to obey.
    Helen and Daphne assumed their disguises and the three of them went down to the lobby. Lucas asked them to wait a moment when they got to the front door. He pulled out his phone and called Hector, telling him to bring the car around to the entrance of the hotel.
    “Stay here,” he said, firmly. “Let me check the street before you go out there. Hector said that Creon was headed our way.”
    “That’s not necessary, Lucas. As long as you keep your distance from us, we’re well hidden,” Daphne said confidently as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, rolling her fancy leather suitcase behind her.
    As Helen watched her mother walk out the door, she happened to glance across the street. Creon was standing on the other side, staring up at the hotel windows with his reflection-defying vision. His eyes dropped down when he saw Daphne.
    As soon as she saw Creon, Helen’s senses rewound to her last encounter with him. She could still feel his humid breath on her neck as he whispered preciosa in her ear right before he stabbed her. Most of all, she remembered the suffocating darkness that had left her feeling like she was lost in space and utterly helpless. The terror-echo she