Under Attack by Hannah Jayne

And Ophelia—all in the same day? Heck, all in the same lunch hour. That’s not weird?”
    Alex put his hand on mine, his thumb stroking my skin. “Ophelia is trying to get to you.”
    â€œWell, she did.”
    Alex wagged his head, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “This isn’t good. She could have hurt you. Ophelia’s intentions are never good.”
    â€œIf she was so into me, why didn’t she attack me just now at the café?”
    â€œShe did. Your father, the maggots—she can make you see things. She can get in your head—if you let her.”
    I pulled my hand away from Alex’s, squeezing my fingers into fists, feeling my nails digging into my palms. “The maggots, maybe. But my father? You think that was Ophelia playing with my head? That he wasn’t really”—I swallowed a sob that I had no reason to have—“here?”
    â€œNo, Lawson, I don’t think your father was really there. I don’t think he was walking down the street in the middle of the day.”
    I tried to blink back the sting of tears. “What?”
    Alex swallowed; his voice was soft. “You haven’t seen him in more than thirty years—and suddenly you see him walking down the street? I’m not saying it’s impossible, I just think it’s unlikely.”
    â€œBut it was him. I know it was. How would Ophelia know what my father looks like?”
    â€œAngels draw strong influence. And with Ophelia—if you let her—she’ll get in your mind and show you anything you want to see. And probably a lot of things you don’t want to see, too.”
    I paused, considering. “Why do you keep saying that, ‘if I let her’?”
    Alex shrugged. “Relax, Lawson. I’m not trying to attack you.”
    â€œWell, you seem to be pretty sure of your ex-girlfriend’s skill set.”
    â€œYou know that’s not what I’m saying.”
    â€œNo, it kind of is. You think Ophelia is stronger than me.”
    Alex inched away from me and drew in a breath. “All I am saying is that the human mind is very easily influenced. You react well to suggestion. It’s not a dig, it’s a fact.”
    I stood up. “Easily influenced? React to suggestion? I am not making this up, Alex. I saw what I saw. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was maggots. Fat, creepy, crawly maggots on my plate, on my French fries, everywhere. I don’t see things, remember? I am magically immune.”
    Alex bit his lip. “It’s not magic. It’s powers. We have powers. Angels and demons, we’re ... it’s different.”
    I shook my head, working to block out Alex’s words “It was my father. I saw him, and I just knew it was him—your angelic superpowers or not.”
    â€œLawson.” Alex’s voice was low, his eyes scanning the police station, where people had started to notice us, to drop their papers and swing their heads to the girl with the fire-engine-red hair stomping and screaming in the waiting room.
    â€œI don’t know how she did it or why she did it, but your girlfriend”—I spat the word—“tried to poison me. Or freak me out. Or whatever.”
    Alex rolled his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. And could you keep your voice down?”
    I growled, turned on my heel, and jabbed at the elevator’s down button. “I have to get back to work.”
    The elevator bell dinged and the heavy metal doors slid open. I jumped inside and kicked the CLOSE DOOR button, Alex’s face with its mix of anger and concern getting narrower and narrower as the doors eeked shut.
    When I got downstairs, the UDA was buzzing. Demons stood hoof-to-hoof in long lines, mildly held in place by swooping velvet ropes. I tried to keep my head down and my eyes low, but I wasn’t two feet into the office when Mrs. Henderson—our resident busybody and fire-breathing