Under Attack

little sis, grow up. Alex is only after one thing. He’s a fallen angel. He’s no better than I am.

I clenched my fists, feeling my nails dig little half-moons into my palms. I felt the sting of sweat on my upper lip.

Alex put his hand on my thigh, leaned close. “Lawson, are you okay?”

“It’s Ophelia,” I whispered. “She’s in my head again.”

“Block her out. You have to.” Alex’s eyes were wide, insistent.

I pressed my palms against my ears. “I’m trying to.”

“She knows exactly where you are. She’s listening.”

Ophelia’s laughter came out hollow, reverberating through my head. Isn’t he cute? Trying to help you out—as though he can! Really, sis, I can’t blame you for falling for him—I mean, I did. I took one look at those glorious baby blues of his ...

“I am not your sister,” I muttered between clenched teeth.

Did he slip up? Call you his girlfriend? Did he whisper, “I love you” in the middle of the night?

My saliva went sour and my stomach lurched. I felt the tears beginning to pool behind my eyes, but I wouldn’t give Ophelia the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I breathed deeply, blinked away the tears.

Face it, Sophie. You’re second best. Again. First Daddy, and now Alex. Sorry, sis. Stings a little bit, I bet, huh? Poor thing. Really, it would be easier for everyone if you just ...

“No.” I gritted my teeth.

Ophelia started to hum softly, an eerie unnatural lullaby running through my mind.

“Sophie, don’t let her get to you. Alex, we have to do something. Sophie’s going crazy.”

Alex’s voice was even. “Ophelia is dangerous and as long as she can get into your head, Lawson, we’re at her mercy. You’ve got to try to block her out.”

“Great. So now we have to get Ophelia out of my head and the Vessel out from my ... wherever it is. Geez. What else is in me?” I had an image of my empty skin, heaped on the floor in front of me.

Alex took my hand. “Okay, Sophie, I need you to think. There is always something that we think about, sometimes when we concentrate hard enough or go somewhere where we can’t let anything else into our mind.”

“Like ... having a one-track mind?”

“I guess. Is there something you can think about that is all consuming?”

Nina raised her hand, grinning salaciously. “I’ve got mine.”

I clamped my eyes shut and was pleasantly surprised when my mind rolled out a blank, black canvas. But little by little, at the edge of my periphery, images rolled in. There was Ophelia, and when I saw her in my mind’s eye I felt myself stiffen sharply. I worked to push her out and focus on something else when I felt a tightness at my throat, a deep pressure ringing my neck. I coughed, feeling the prick of the individual hairs of rope as they scratched my skin, tightening, making it hard to breathe. I felt the rope as it rolled upward as though someone were—were— hanging it? Tears sprang to my eyes and I opened them, clawing at the imaginary rope around my neck, gasping. I blinked, feeling the stolid air in the car, Nina and Alex’s eyes on me, swimming with concern.

“Sophie?” Nina asked.

“I’m okay,” I lied, opening the back window and relishing the cool wind crashing over me. “I’m okay.”

Alex took my hand when we got back to the apartment. He squeezed it gently. “Are you sure you’re okay? In the car you were—”

“It was just a lot to take in,” I said with a calculated sigh. “I’m okay, really.”

Alex’s eyes were intent on mine and I could tell he wasn’t convinced. I threw in a smile filled with forced happiness. “Really.”

“Do you need me to stay? We could talk about this—make some coffee, figure out some sort of plan?”

“That’s very Dr. Oz of you, but, to be honest, I just want to go to sleep. Besides, the fate of the world might hang in the balance, but polyester pants wait for no one. I just want to go to sleep for a little while—just for a little while—before I have to face my new job.” And before I had to face my new family.

Chapter Nineteen

My new position at People’s Pants may not have offered a 401(k), but it did offer hour upon hour of mind- numbing, repetitive duty. I worked to keep my mind focused on the People’s Pants–approved tri-fold technique and not on the events of last night—particularly, that my family tree seemed to be getting bogged down with more and more rotten fruit. I had slunk into my bedroom last night feeling betrayed and alone. Ophelia had known about me, but I hadn’t known about her. Who else did?

I folded another pair of pants and the silver button fly caught my eye. Four shiny buttons. My mouth went dry and I quickly glanced around, then hunched closer to the pants. “Grandma?”

I heard the snap of gum behind me and a burst of grape-scented air. I whirled, and Avery was behind me, her lips dyed to match her gum, her eyebrows raised. “Were you talking to the pants?”

I wagged my head furiously. “Of course not.”

She gave me a look of skepticism and disbelief and turned on the platform heels of her black plastic boots, popping another bubble as she went.

My cell phone chirped and I gasped, clasping my hand over my heart. “Geez!” I slid it out of my People’s Pant blue smock pocket.

“’Lo?” I answered, dropping my voice and dipping my head behind a mammoth stack of painter’s pants.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” Alex said.

I dropped the pair of pants I was folding and peeked around, periscope style. I watched Avery unwrap another chunk of gum and stick it into her mouth, then settle at the register with a rock magazine. Aside from the two of us, the store was empty.

“Okay, but I only get a half hour. I wouldn’t want to upset my teenybop supervisor.”

I clicked my cell phone shut and hurried for the break room, peeling off my smock and fluffing my hair as I went. I yanked out my shoulder bag—excessively heavy due to my new Taser—and dumped the black plastic case back into my locker. No need for a stun gun with Officer Angel by my side. By the time I made it out to the main floor Alex was leaning against the front counter, examining a pair of god-awful one-off chinos while Avery swooned behind him.

“We have them in slate, charcoal, verbena, and cherry, too,” she cooed. “Or I can show you something in a soft-weave nylon.”

Alex’s eyes met mine and I watched Avery immediately stiffen. “I’m going to lunch now, okay?”

Avery’s dark eyes went from mine to Alex’s; she used her thumb and index finger to rub the bridge of her nose as she let out a long, aggravated sigh. “Fine. Just make sure you’re back on the floor by one. My moon is in the seventh house and I can already feel my chakras backing up—I really need to meditate. And you have that entire pile of side-zip capris to mark down.”

I pasted on a smile. “Can’t wait.”

Alex ushered me out the People’s Pants doorway and pointed to his white SUV, parked across the street. I looked at him, impressed. “Someone has parking karma.”

San Francisco, while loaded to the gills with gourmet restaurants, killer fashion boutiques, and the best donuts on the planet, is sadly sparse on parking spots. Last I heard there were six.

Alex grinned and opened his coat, his badge glinting in the sunlight. “This isn’t just a fancy piece of jewelry.”

I gaped. “You flashed your badge to get someone to move?”

He shrugged. “I consider this official police business.”

We pushed through the double glass doors of the diner. The V-shaped restaurant was fronted by big glass windows looking out on the city and the bay, and sported dark wood booths with tall dividers that made patrons feel cozy as the swirls of fog rolled in just beyond the glass. Inside the restaurant was slightly dark, reflecting the afternoon sky, and the homey scents of meatloaf and French fries greeted me and made my stomach growl. We