Under Attack

CSI style. I peeked through the slightly open door and slumped considerably when I saw an obsessively clean desktop, a plastic plant, and a flat-faced computer screen that looked like it was made out of cardboard. The entire office looked like the bland cardboard cutout of an office supply store.

I heard the far-off trill of laughter, the sound of footsteps creaking over hardwood. I silently prayed that the spastic fluttering of my heart wouldn’t give me away.

“Alex?” I tried, my voice barely audible. “Nina?” I looked around, suddenly feeling very alone in the darkness. The house had fallen into an ominous silence again, and I slunk against the wall and then slid the whole way down, sitting on my butt. I pressed my forehead to my knees, sucked in a deep breath, and tried to channel Ophelia.

Ophelia, I called out in my mind. I’m here. Let Nina go. Let Alex go. It’s me you want, right? I’m the Vessel; I’m what you want. So, if you’re so badassed, come out and get me. With no immediate answer, I started to feel bolder. Come on, sis—I hissed the word—come out, come out wherever you are ... I pushed myself to my feet and made my way back down the hallway to the broad, sunken living room right off the kitchen. I walked with a little more sass, holding my gun in one hand and tapping it against my thigh as I continued the baiting call in my head.

Ophelia ... I heard the creak of footsteps again and I snapped to attention, my whole body stiffening. I didn’t have time to react when I saw the flash of movement reflected in the sliding glass door in front of me. I thought I could make out a face and I heard the footsteps speed up as they came rushing toward me. I tried to turn around but was pushed back with a crushing, full-body blow. I felt arms tense around me, squeezing; I felt my breath leave me, felt my feet leave the ground and then the icy pricks of glass showering my shoulders, shredding my arms.

We went crashing through the sliding glass door and slid onto the grass below. I felt my ribs cracking, felt a fist clenching against my lung as the breath went out of me. I arched against the crunch of glass that pierced through my clothes. Once we stopped I dove for Ophelia’s neck. She slapped my hands away and brought my hands to my sides; I was amazed at how freakishly strong she seemed. I blinked at her.

She was Alex.

“What the hell?” I screamed.

Alex scrambled up from the ground and carried me with him, pulling me tightly against his chest. I squirmed and kicked out against him, tasting blood in my mouth, feeling the dampness of the earth that had seeped into my clothes.

“Stop it, stop it, Alex! You can have the Vessel! You can have it!”

Alex had carried me less than ten feet from the house and heaved me to the ground when we heard the explosion. He threw his body over me, but not before I was able to peek out and watch the fireball that was my father’s house mushroom up to the sky. Alex rolled off me and we both blinked at the black bones of the house as they were spat out from the flames.

“Thanks for offering me the Vessel,” he said with a lopsided, far-too-calm-for-the-situation grin.

“What happened?” I choked out a panicked sob. “Where’s Nina?” I tried to stand up but found that everything hurt. “We need to get in there!” The smoke from the fire was choking me and making my eyes sting. I started to cry and hiccup, kicking at the ground to get my feet to push the rest of my body up.

Alex pinned me down. “She wasn’t in there, Lawson, I promise. I checked every room. Ophelia set us up; it was another trap.”

I sniffed, feeling the energy drain out of my body as I slumped against Alex and cried. My tears made cold tracks down my cheeks and I wiped at my face with a hand that was caked with dirt and grass. “Then where is she?”

“I don’t know, but she wasn’t in there. I should have known. Ophelia wouldn’t give up that easily.”

I sunk back into the grass—and into Alex’s arms—and we watched the fire for a millisecond before the wails of the fire-engine sirens droned through the morning light.

“Can you stand?” Alex asked.

I nodded, and got up gingerly. Alex took my hand and led me to the front of the house, where firefighters and uniformed police officers were ushering pajama-wearing neighbors behind wooden barricades and dousing the flames.

I heard the sharp cut of Will’s words before I saw him. When we turned the corner he was there, standing in front of one of the fire trucks, barking orders at the firemen, who scattered in perfectly organized chaos, dragging fat hoses and lining up at the edge of the burning house. He was wearing his uniform and again his big yellow coat was streaked with black lines of soot and debris. His helmet had a nick in it and was almost totally blackened. He stopped midsentence when he saw me and strode toward Alex and me, nudging in just before the paramedic made his way toward us.

“Sophie?” The playful lilt he’d had when we talked the other day was gone from his voice.

I nodded, too stunned to speak.

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

I saw a glint—of what, jealousy?—in Alex’s eyes as he sized Will up. “You’re the guardian?” he asked finally.

Will straightened a bit and looked over his shoulder, then stepped closer to us. He nodded.

Alex used the end of his shirt to dab at a cut on my cheek. “Hell of a job you’re doing, buddy.”

I put my hand on Alex’s arm and stepped aside, just out of his reach. “It’s not his fault.”

Will and I exchanged glances and Alex put up his hands, palms out, and sucked in an exasperated breath. “Okay, fine, whatever. We need to find Nina. If your buddy here wants to come along, he can follow us.”

“I’m looking after Sophie,” Will said.

“So am I,” Alex replied.

The men exchanged staunch, tight-lipped glares and under any other circumstance I would be updating my Facebook status, letting the world know that two incredibly hot men were fighting over me. Instead, I stepped between them.

“We have to find Nina. Now.”

Another fireman ran up to us. He looked from Alex to me and then expectantly at Will. “Are you taking care of this, Sherman?”

Will nodded curtly. “The detective here was just telling me what happened.”

“Fire bomb,” Alex reported, his eyes focused on the second fireman, who wore a water-slicked yellow coat with the name ALLEN sewn on it. “Thrown from the outside when Ms. Lawson was inside.”

Allen nodded and Will raised a suspicious eyebrow. “And Ms. Lawson was inside because?”

Alex cleared his throat. “She was with me. I was escorting her back to her apartment after a second round of questioning when a call came in about a suspected burglar at this address. I asked her to stay in the car. It’s not like anyone was guarding her though.” Will’s eyes flashed as Alex continued. “She must have just slid in behind me.”

I watched the gold flecks in Will’s eyes glitter angrily at the bit of smile that hung on Alex’s lips. Allen looked at the three of us, oblivious to the volumes of subtext going on, and nodded. “Looks like you fellas have got this under control. Just make sure to escort the lady home.”

Will stepped toward me and Alex cut him off, blocking me with his body. He clamped a hand on my upper arm. “I’ve got this under control,” he told Will.

Will went eyebrows up but stepped back. Alex steered me away from the clutch of firemen and flashing lights, and when we were out of earshot, I shrugged him off.

“What was that? You’ve got this under control? Don’t you mean you’ve got me under control? And what was the stare-down for?”

“Really, Lawson? We’re going to do the woman’s lib thing here in the shadow of your father’s raging inferno?”

“I guess not,” I relented. “But that doesn’t mean it’s over!”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Alex said.

I glanced over my shoulder at the smoldering house, at the firefighters working to tame the huge flames that thrust out of windows and licked the tops of nearby trees. I felt an odd sense of loss; I had just found my father—I saw his collection of books, what he kept in the fridge (nothing), the way he decorated a room for his daughter—