Under Attack (27 page)

Read Under Attack Online

Authors: Hannah Jayne

“She's not here,” I said, my mouth going dry.
I jumped—and so did my heart—when the phone rang again. I dove into my pocket.
“Hello? Nina?”
There was laughter on the other end of the line and then a piercing, primitive scream. “Hey there, sis,” Ophelia said. “I think I've got something of yours.”
Ophelia continued to giggle and I heard the wailing scream again. Then heaving tears. Then the phone went dead.
“Who was that?” Alex asked.
I turned to him, suddenly feeling leaden. “That was Ophelia. And she's got Nina.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
I shook the phone as if an explanation would fall out. “Ophelia has Nina. She's hurting her.” I slapped my palm to my forehead. “That's why she sent the Nephilim. She wasn't trying to scare me, she was trying to distract me, get me all wrapped up in the fire at People's Pants.” I swallowed a sob. “And it worked.”
Alex took both my hands and led me to the couch, trying to get me to sit down.
“No,” I said, dodging him. “We have to go. Now. We have to save Nina.”
“Where is she?”
I frowned down at the phone, my vision blurred with a fresh wave of tears. “I don't know.”
“It'll be okay. Nina's an immortal; there's not much that Ophelia can do to her, right?”
I gaped. “Except drive a stake through her heart, cut off her head, light her on fire, send her out in the sunshine, shoot her with a silver bullet ...”
“I thought that only worked with werewolves.”
“Oh, now you're paying attention to legendry?”
“Lawson—”
“No, now.” I peeled off my bathrobe and yanked yesterday's (pre-Pants fire) clothes off the floor. I was hopping on one foot, trying to get into a pair of jeans, when Alex stopped me.
“Calm down, Lawson, you're going to give yourself a heart attack.”
“Better me than Nina!” I shrieked, finally getting the blasted pants over my hips.
“Let's sit down and figure something out first.”
I yanked a semi-clean sweatshirt over my head. “Why can't you see how serious this is?”
A giggle roiled through my head. Ophelia's ghostly laughter.
Alex has a secret... .
she sang.
I stepped back. “What are you hiding?”
“What?”
“Why don't you want me to find Nina?”
Alex's brows drew together. “I'm not hiding anything and I do want you to find Nina. I want to help you find Nina, but you just can't go off half-cocked like this. Ophelia is dangerous and—and—for all we know, this could be a trap. You could be walking right into a trap.”
“I don't care, Alex. I don't care. I'm not going to risk Nina. I'm not going to put anyone else's life at risk because of me, especially not my best friend's.”
“I'm just saying we need a plan.”
I stood nose to nose with Alex, the fury rolling off me in waves. “And I'm saying we have to look for Nina, now.”
“You have to know that out of any of us, Nina is the one best prepared to take care of herself,” Alex said as he followed me out the door.
“Yeah,” I said, taking the stairs two at a time. “But that doesn't mean she should have to.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My mind was racing as I sat in the front seat of Alex's car. “Why Nina?”
“Ophelia wants to get to you.”
“That's fine, but she wants me, right? She wants the Vessel. We don't even know where she took Nina. Wouldn't it be easier for her to have left a note or something?”
“Like what? ‘I've got Nina tied to the train tracks, come get her'? I don't think this kind of thing works like that.”
I gulped. “Tie her to the train tracks? You don't really think she'd do that, do you?”
“Not unless she has a cartoon hat and a handlebar mustache.”
“This is not a time to joke!”
Alex stretched his arm along the backrest, his hand gently massaging my neck. I squirmed away.
“I know. But going into hysterics isn't going to help Nina, either.”
I glowered in cross-armed silence until we made it to the police station—which we did in record time. Alex was shrugging out of his jacket when I pressed him down in his desk chair and handed him Nina's cell phone. He stared at the phone in his palm as though he had never seen a pink Swarovski Crystal–bedazzled Motorola.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Trace the call!” I screamed. “Dust it for fingerprints. There was obviously a struggle. Nina would never leave her phone under the couch—”
“And she wouldn't leave it behind,” Alex said, taking the phone.
“Yeah. So go all
CSI
on that phone's ass.”
Alex clicked the phone shut and turned on his computer. “Okay, first of all, this is SFPD, not
CSI
. Tracing takes a little longer than a commercial break.”
I slumped into the red pleather guest chair, defeated. The reality of Nina's disappearance—and the realization that she was with Ophelia—finally began to sink in. I sniffed, then started to cry. “We're never going to find her, are we?”
“Okay, got it,” Alex said, clicking shut his laptop and grinning.
“Got what?”
“Come on, Lawson, get moving.” He stood up, shook me out of the chair. “The call came from an address up north.”
I abruptly stopped crying and sprang up. “You were able to trace it? Did you triangulate the cell phone towers to pinpoint their location?”
Alex snatched his coat from the back of his chair. “No. I Googled the phone number.”
Alex peeled out of the police department parking lot with sirens blaring. The few cars on the city roads eased to the side to let us pass, and Alex kept the gas pedal flush with the floor of the car the second we hit the freeway on-ramp. He gestured to the flashing lights and sirens above us as we overtook a Yellow Cab, slow with wide-eyed tourists and their world of luggage.
“These things are so convenient.”
“Let me guess—another perk they didn't have when you were here last?”
“Something like that.”
We sped down the freeway in silence; Alex hadn't mentioned the exact address from which Ophelia's call originated—he didn't have to. We both knew it had come from my father's house in Marin County. My heart started to thunder in my throat as we took the Sir Francis Drake exit and wound through the quaint city of Marin, most of its residents barely roused, despite the sunny morning.
“She'd better not hurt her,” I muttered, gritting my teeth until my temples hurt.
“It's you that Ophelia wants,” Alex said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “She's just using Nina to get to you.”
“Does that mean she won't hurt her?” I asked hopefully.
“No.”
We turned down the tree-lined street to my father's house. Alex parked skewed in the driveway and leaned over me in the front seat.
“What are you—”
He popped open the glove box and pulled out a handgun, slipping it into his waistband. He slipped a short-handled knife with a fat blade into a leather sheaf wrapped around his ankle. Then he looked at me.
“Do you still have the stun gun?”
I shook my head miserably. “No. I lost it in the fire.”
He sucked in a breath and then ducked between my legs. I had heard that life-and-death situations made people randy, but personally, I really wasn't in the mood. “Alex! Now?”
But Alex came up with a small black gun in his hand.
“I always keep a spare,” he said, checking the magazine. He handed the gun to me and pushed the black metal gun box back under my seat.
“Remind me not to use the vanity mirror,” I said as we crept out of the car. “What does it do—launch a hand grenade?”
“No, cyanide powder.”
I wasn't sure if he was joking, but I made a mental note not to check.
I tried to tuck my small loaner gun in my waistband like Alex had done, but one too many donuts prevented that. Besides, I had the kind of luck that meant I would be shooting off my privates halfway through our daring rescue. Instead, I slipped the gun into my sweatshirt pocket. The butt of the gun was already damp from my sweating palms.
“What are we going to do?” I whispered to Alex as he steered me flat against the garage. “Do we knock?”
Alex's brows rose. “Really? You ask me if I triangulated a cell phone call to pinpoint Ophelia's location, and then you ask if we knock?”
“Right. We barrel roll through the front window.”
“No more cop shows for you. I go check it out, you stay right here.” Alex put both hands on my shoulders, pushed me down about four inches so I was mostly ducked into a pittosporum bush, and then repeated himself. “Stay right here. Got it?”
I nodded, though I had no intention of hanging back. Nina was my best friend, and her afterlife was in my hands. She would have happily been sucking on a blood bag and reading an
InStyle
magazine if I hadn't come along. I sniffed, feeling the tears start again.
Alex looked at me and softened. “Just stay here. We're going to get Nina.”
He tiptoed out across the driveway, hugging as close to the shadows cast from the house as possible. He disappeared around a clutch of flowering bushes and I assumed he had gotten onto the front porch, but there was no sound.
I counted to twenty-five and then tiptoed from my pittosporum hiding place, picking my way along the shadows of the driveway, following in Alex's footsteps. I held the butt of my gun in both my hands, arms outstretched. I couldn't remember if that was the way Alex told me to hold the gun or if I saw it on
Cops
, but either seemed good enough so I took a few more tentative steps, letting my gun lead the way. When I reached the front porch it was empty.
“Alex?” I whispered, lowering my gun a half inch. “Alex?”
I scanned the surrounding landscaping for any sign of Alex, and then I noticed the front door was slightly ajar. I gently shouldered it open just enough to squeeze through, and promised myself that should I get out of this alive, donuts were strictly off-limits. Well, off-limits right after my “I survived this rescue attempt” donut party.
The lights were off in the foyer; all the curtains were drawn, casting the room into shadows. The house was ungodly still, and the only sound anywhere was the thunderous beating of my heart, the ridiculously loud rush of my blood through my veins. I held my breath and paused before blinking, certain that both would come out as loud as a snare drum, causing Ophelia to rouse from her hiding place and slit all of our throats. When nothing happened for a thirty count I tiptoed farther into the house, calling out for Alex in my mind.
If I was going to get any additional powers
, I prayed,
now would be the time.
I had to stop and get my bearings.
Okay.
I thought to myself,
if I had kidnapped a vampire and was holding her hostage, where would I take her?
I blinked in the near darkness, letting my arms and my gun fall to my sides as my arms started to ache. I prowled farther down the hallway, using one palm against the wall to guide myself through the relative dark. When my fingers stumbled on the cold plastic of a light switch cover I instinctively went to flick on the light and then paused—Ophelia would come toward the light. Or, she had the whole house wired to this very light switch, and when I flicked it on we would all go up like a powder keg. I jammed my hand in my sweatshirt pocket and moved on.
I found my way to my father's office and pressed my back against the wall, holding my gun
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.

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