Under Attack

Chapter Eighteen


I felt a coil of anger in my stomach. “Did you know?”

“No, Sophie, I swear. How would I have known?”

“You dated her, Alex! You dated her and you didn’t know where she came from before?”

I was spitting mad now, feeling the emotion roiling through my veins. I was standing up, cornering Alex. “How could you not have known?”

Alex put his hands on my arms, holding me at arm’s length. His eyes were hard, cold. “I didn’t know, Sophie. Angels in grace don’t have any knowledge of the circumstances of their death or anything that happened before it. Time moves differently there. There is no way I could have put this together.”

I knew he was right, but I balled my hands into fists anyway, felt the tears spring into my eyes. I looked around the room, looked at the sweet pink sheets on the still-made bed, at the photographs of Ophelia and my father sharing family moments—at the beach, under the Christmas tree.

“He knew me and he didn’t want me,” I sobbed. “He knew how to be a dad, he just didn’t want to be one to me.”

Alex put his arms around me and I crumbled into him, sobbing, hiccupping. “I don’t care, I swear,” I sobbed. “He never even tried to find me.”

I gathered myself and used the tail of my black evening gown to wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I sniffed.

Alex just squeezed my shoulder and led me out of Ophelia’s room. We picked our way down the stairs, peeking in rooms and thumbing through bookshelves until we came to my father’s den. Alex was rifling through the top desk drawer when he suddenly stopped and withdrew a large manila envelope. He dumped the contents on the desk.

“Uh, Lawson?”

I dropped the statuette I was holding and went to the desk, sucking in a gasp as I did. I stared down into my own eyes. Into my own face.

“What the—?” I pawed through the heap of photographs—they were all me, from every angle. I was a pudgy, round-eyed baby in some shots, then a toddler, gripping my mother’s hand. There was a long gap, and then the next few pictures were more recent.

“Maybe he was looking for you.”

But they weren’t the photographs of a father longing for his child. There weren’t shots of me grinning, shopping at the Farmer’s Market, snuggling the family dog. They were banal: shots of daily tasks, close-ups of my face, my hands, slipping into the doors above the UDA.

Four days after I was born ... I thought. He was seeking the Vessel; it consumed him... .

I put the photograph I was holding back on the desk. My saliva went sour, my face hot.

“Sophie?”

Alex’s voice sounded tinny, far away.

Now don’t you see? You’re the only one who didn’t know. Poor, dumb baby sister ...

It was Ophelia’s voice and it was happy, giggly.

You know the truth, she said. You know it’s there.... You’ve always known that you weren’t right, you never fit in.... But a prize? Nah. Just a thing. You were always just a thing, Sophie. We know it, Daddy knew it, and now Alex knows it, too.

She whispered the last part and her breath echoed in my mind, ran shivers up my spine.

“You.” The word caught in my throat, hung in the air.

“What?”

I took a step back. “You know ... about me. He knew. My dad knew.”

Alex looked at me, his eyes wide. “What are you talking about? Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down.” Alex reached out for my hand and his touch—usually warm and comforting—was icy and I pulled my hand away, stumbling.

“You know about me.”

Alex opened his mouth and then closed it, and I watched the flash of realization cross over his eyes. “You are the Vessel of Souls.”

I nodded, every inch of my body tense, on high alert. I was aware each time my heart beat, was certain of each pump of blood. I was ready to run but Alex just sat, stunned.

“You.”

I could feel the tears pooling behind my eyes. “You didn’t know?”

Alex wagged his head. “I had no idea. When did—did you always know?”

“No. Will told me.”

“Will? The guy from your apartment building?”

I nodded. “He told me after he bailed me out of jail. Yesterday.”

Alex’s eyes flashed. “Geez, Lawson. Jail?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

Alex rubbed his palm over his forehead. “Okay. So how does this Will guy know anything about you—about you being—”

“The Vessel.”

Alex just nodded, wouldn’t say the words.

“He’s the seventh guardian.”

Shock registered across Alex’s features. “Well, I’ll be... .”

I bit my lip. “So, you really didn’t know.”

“Know? Lawson, I’ve been chasing my tail around this my whole afterlife. If I knew it was you I’d—”

“You’d what?”

He looked me up and down, slowly, carefully choosing his words. “I—I don’t know. I don’t even know what this means for ...” He let the word trail off.

“For you. You don’t know what it means for you.”

“Come on, Lawson. This is a lot to process. You’ve got to give me a minute. I mean, first you’re Satan’s kid, then Ophelia’s sister, now this. Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

“As sure as I can be. I don’t know what any of this”—I flung my arms open wide—“means.”

Alex opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Plain sight,” he murmured.

“Plain sight,” I agreed.

“I don’t understand.”

I shook my head. “Neither do I. But I’m not wrong.”

“Okay,” Alex said with a monumental sigh. “Now what?”

“Now what? Now we throw a big welcome-home party for my dad. I don’t know! I’m a vessel. I’m a thing !”

“You’re not a thing, Lawson. You’re you.”

“Eloquent.”

There was a soft knock on the office door, and then Nina poked her head in. “Are we done spying? I’m bored.”

“Nina! You’re supposed to be standing watch!”

Nina looked over one narrow shoulder. “Clear,” she said.

I grabbed Alex by the sleeve of his shirt and hustled him toward Nina. “I want to get out of here. I need to get out of here.”

Nina followed behind us. “What’d you find out about dear ol’ dad? Cross-dresser? Closet masochist? Satan?”

“It wasn’t about Szabo,” Alex said, his voice steady as he carefully chose his words. “It was about Sophie.”

“And Ophelia,” I interjected. “Ophelia is my sister.”

Nina’s eyes widened. “Oh. Lord.”

“I need a milkshake.”

Nina and Alex nodded and followed me to the car, Nina chattering the whole way. “So, Ophelia, huh? Interesting.” She looked from me to Alex. “You’ve dated sisters. Major no-no in the Dater’s Compendium.”

“I think the afterlife version might be different,” I whispered. Alex reached out and squeezed my hand, and though the move was meant to be comforting, it wasn’t. “Wow. I have a sister.”

Nina bit her lip. “If Ophelia is your sister and Satan is your dad, who’s Ophelia’s mom?”

My eyebrows went up, and Nina and I both swung to look at Alex, who shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Never got that serious, huh?” Nina said.

I thought of my own mother, her eyes warm, her touch so soft. My throat tightened. “Milkshake. Please.”

We slid into the car and drove in silence, until Alex found an In-N-Out Burger. He ran us through the drive-through, handing a chocolate milkshake back to me and balancing a basket of fries on his lap. I snatched a few, pried the lid off my shake, and dipped.

Alex looked at me. “That’s gross.”

I swallowed a chocolaty, salty mouthful. “I’ve had a bad night.”

“So,” Nina said as we coasted back onto the highway, “did you find out if Pops is Satan?”

Alex wagged his head, sipped at his shake. “It didn’t seem important anymore.”

“Because of the Ophelia thing?”

I took another handful of fries and a big gulp of chocolate shake. I could feel the soul-soothing triumvirate of salt, grease, and fat begin to work through my system.

“And because of the Vessel,” Alex said.

Nina’s eyes were wide and she tossed me a panicked look, sitting up straighter in the car seat. “What do you know about the Vessel?” she asked Alex.

“It’s okay, Nina. I told him.”

Nina’s shoulders fell a millimeter, but her eyes narrowed angrily. “You might know her secret, angel, but if you lay one hand on Sophie just because she’s this tank thing, I swear you’ll regret it for all your lives to come.”

I watched Alex’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Noted.”

I reached across the seat and squeezed Nina’s hand. My dad might be Satan, I was thrown in the slammer for a disappearing murder, and I might be some kind of supernatural Tupperware, but I had the best best friend in the world.

I stole a glance over at Alex. His eyes were icicle blue and fiery. He was focused straight ahead on the dark road before us, and the muscle in his jaw was twitching the way it did when he was concentrating. I didn’t want to consider what he was thinking, so I sunk down in my seat and tried to close my eyes.

I thought about us lying in bed together, our naked shoulders touching, and him telling me about Heaven. I thought about the way he had talked about being restored to grace—about “going home.” And I thought about how I was the only way he was going to get there. I swallowed a sob.

The truth hurts, doesn’t it? My eyes flashed open. He doesn’t want you. He wants the Vessel....

I clamped my hands over my ears, trying to silence Ophelia’s singsongy voice.

Do us all a favor ... .

I gritted my teeth. Did you like seeing photos of Daddy and me? Maybe we can all get together some day ... go out for ice cream. Doesn’t that sound like the perfect family outing? He used to take me out for ice cream all the time....

Shut up, I thought, closing my eyes, clenching my fists, and going rigid. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

There was a faint, echoing giggle, and then she was gone.

I opened my eyes and saw Nina bite her lip, thinking. “So, if Sophie is the Vessel, then ... how do we get to it?”

Alex was silent, avoiding my gaze. “Alex?” I asked.

“The only way to possess the Vessel in this”—Alex’s eyes wandered over me, met mine—“form, is to release it.”

“Release it? What does that mean?” Nina asked.

I swallowed, the truth washing over me. “Death,” I said, my eyes fixing on Alex’s. “He has to kill me.”

Now you know what Alex was thinking this whole time.... He gets close to you, you fall in love with him, trust him ... and he kills you.

“No,” I murmured under my breath.

“Sophie?” Alex asked.

“That’s not true,” I whispered.

You think he really cares, don’t you? You don’t think he knew what you were all along? Come on, 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.