Ophelia (8 page)

“No. No, I’m not ready! Don’t make me!”

Ophelia’s eyes drifted toward the rack of ampoules.
“That?”

He was staring soundlessly at his father’s picture, as if
waiting for some pronouncement of mercy.

“I see,”
said Ophelia slowly, as if
answering her own question.

She strolled over to the rack.

“You are no
deartháir
of mine.”

“
What?
” Harry had heard her properly for the first
time.

“I have no cowards in my family,”
his
sister replied.
“By not honouring our father’s wishes, you are
disgracing House Osborn.”

Harry looked at Ophelia as if she had suddenly sprouted
antlers. Unperturbed by his reaction, she selected an ampoule and smashed the
top on the nearest shelf.

“
Slainté, deartháir!
”

Ophelia drank the glowing fluid in one draft. Her brother, on
the other hand, had begun to look very nervous.

“That…that was supposed to be
inhaled
!”

Ophelia glanced between the chamber and the remaining
ampoules a few times before she finally made the connection.

“That can be arranged.”

Ophelia selected another ampoule and made her way toward the
chamber.

“
NO!
I…I…” Harry couldn’t find the words. “I heard
some of the scientists say after Dad passed away that the human performance
enhancers have been known to cause…
insanity
.”

His sister’s response was to place one hand on the chamber’s
socket and shoot the ampoule home. Ophelia removed the dust cover from the
computer before she added,

“Are you a
fear
, or a…”
She
said something foul in what Harry could only presume was Irish.

His anger spurred, Harry sprinted toward the other side of
the room.

“Take off your shirt,”
Ophelia
instructed as she hauled open the chamber door.

Harry looked askance, but she pushed him in without another
word.

March 2007

“We
need to talk.”

Ophelia glanced up from the report she was reading.
“I thought you did not discuss personal matters at work?”

“I don’t have a choice,” David replied, slipping into Irish
as easily as he slipped into his chair. “I never see you at home anymore; if
you’re not off to some ‘fundraiser’, you’re spending time on some project in
one of the laboratories, all of which have not given me clearance to enter.
Some nights, you hardly say three words to the mansion staff because you’ve
spent all day at work and want to go straight to bed!

“Speaking of work, why are you spending so much time going
back and forth between the lab and research and development?”

Ophelia shrugged.
“New ideas, new things to
work on.”

“You’ve never concerned yourself with research and
development unless it was for a meeting or inspection! Every time they ask for
you, you send Harry—or Dr. Welker, if your brother is already assigned
elsewhere.”

She didn’t respond.

“I don’t like you spending so much time in places where I’m
not allowed, Ophelia. That’s not safe.”

“I minored in chemistry. I run a
science-based company. Why should I not spend time in the laboratories?”

“Just two days ago, you were in a red level lab for three and
a half hours,” David argued. “I had to slip a fifty to a technician to find out
that she had
just
seen you strip out of a hazmat suit and step into a
decontamination shower!”

“I have owned this company for nearly four
and a half years,”
she said. “
You should be used to
this sort of thing.”

“I’m
used
to guarding your office and sitting in the
back of boardrooms while you attend meetings and presentations all day; not
anxiously hovering outside of various labs while you perform tasks that you
used to assign to Dr. Welker and everyone below him!”

Ophelia offered no response.

“What about Eduardo? You’re suddenly treating him like your
concubine instead of your husband!”

“I beg your pardon
if you are uncomfortable with the amount of time my husband and I
spend in the bedroom; however, it has been three years since our handfasting.
Eduardo and I agree that it is time to attempt conception.”

“Care to explain why I saw
you
carrying
him
up
the stairs a few days ago?”

Ophelia gave her bodyguard a small smile as she went back to
the report.

“What happened to our relationship?” David persisted. “You
used to tell me
everything
!”

After a moment, she dropped her pen and met his gaze.

“I am twenty-eight. If I cannot handle my
own problems now, when will I ever learn? I cannot rely on you my entire life!”

David was tempted to make a derisive comment, but held back
as he headed for the door.

“If you ever care to explain yourself, I’ll be here.”

~*~

Scarcely
six weeks later, Ophelia’s visions returned.

She hadn’t seen much of her father since the incident in the
Goblin Chamber and naturally assumed that she and Harry were following their
destinies at last. Occasionally, Ophelia thought she saw her father leering at
her from various reflective surfaces, but he hadn’t spoken ‘til now.

“Your brother is in the hospital.”

“I am aware of that, thank you.”

She stretched languidly on the divan and was annoyed when
Norman sought to interrupt her once again.

“He was injured fulfilling my mission.”

“Is that supposed to surprise me?”
Ophelia reached for her glass of vodka.

“I need you to finish the job before Harry gets out of the
hospital and gets his memory back.”

“I am already halfway through my decade-long
tenure at Osborn Scientific. What more do you desire?”

“Kill Peter Parker.”

Ophelia’s laughter was warm and rich.
“Now I
know where my brother gets his ridiculousness from!”

“I’m
serious
,” Norman growled. “Parker was there when
I died.”

She sat up a little straighter
. “So
that
is why Harry maintains that Peter murdered you!”

“Not quite.” Her father was silent for a few minutes, the
apparition fading, as if the secret he held was draining his energies. “
I
attempted to kill Parker because he wouldn’t join me. My plan backfired—I
didn’t realize that his powers would allow him to sense my glider. I wasn’t
able to jump out of the way in time.”

“Good!”
Ophelia smiled into her
glass.
“Karma got you immediately.”

The lights flickered.

“‘Karma’?” Norman echoed. “Since when are you a goody
two-shoes? When you persuaded your brother, you signed yourself up for the long
run.”

“I ‘signed myself up’ for
nothing!
”
she snapped.
“That was naught but a stunt. I could not have
paid my brother half my fortune to go into the vaporization chamber! I knew
that if I drank the serum, Harry would think that I was calling his manhood
into question and he would not refuse!”

The apparition solidified as her father raised his eyebrow,
but Norman said nothing more on the subject.

“When can I expect you to kill Parker?”

“Not in this lifetime, nor the next! I will
not murder my brother’s best friend just because he refused to join in some
half-witted scheme of yours!”

Her father disappeared and the lights flashed again.

“You think you can scare me with a stupid
poltergeist trick?”
Ophelia demanded.
“How little you
know me!”

She drew breath to make a declamation just as her world grew
dark.

~*~

“…claimed
that she was disagreeing with her father, but I didn’t see any evidence that
Dr. Osborn’s ghost was anywhere near there.”

“Did he cause the damage?”

“It’s possible.” There was a lengthy pause. “I don’t know why
you’re asking me, though…weren’t you a member of the Temple at the time we left
Brisbane?”

“He was oathbound as High Priest,”
Ophelia said faintly.

She opened her eyes to find her husband sitting beside her,
her bodyguard reclining in a nearby chair.

“Do you recall blacking out?” asked David.

Ophelia nodded.

“Do you know
why
?” Eduardo interrupted.

“
I was about to banish
Athair
’s
shade,”
she whispered. Ophelia paused to regain her strength.
“I did not want to do an assignment for him. You said there was damage?”

“Half the library was destroyed,” said David.

“He retaliated when I refused.”

The gentlemen shot each other looks.

“We were going to call an ambulance about the time you
started breathing again,” her bodyguard explained.

“I think
Athair
…t…tried to strangle
me…to s…show he meant…”
Ophelia’s eyes closed.
“…business.”

She missed her husband and her bodyguard staring at each
other as if they were telepathic.

“I…need…to see Harry.”

“We’ll go when you’re feeling better,” Eduardo murmured.

“No!”
Ophelia’s eyes sprang open.
“This cannot wait! I will go…when I have a bit more energy.”

“Visiting hours are over.”

“They will understand!”
she snarled.

“We need to have a discussion before you leave,” David
interrupted. “The hospital called this morning while you were preparing for the
day.”

“I am uninterested in this conversation.”

“They said they had news about Harry, so I…claimed I was your
stepfather.”

Ophelia struggled to sit up. “
I told you
that I did
not
want to hear this!”

“Harry suffered a setback,
corazón
,” David plunged on,
recklessly using her husband’s endearment. “The doctor said that your brother
recalls your father’s death, but doesn’t remember the details. He draws a blank
when they ask about your mother. The doctor says that they have been tactfully
avoiding the subject of your existence, but he expects that Harry won’t
remember you.”

The woman gestured imperiously for her husband to help her
off the divan.

“I will keep that in mind.”
She
turned to Eduardo.
“After you get me into bed, make sure that Mr
Westbrooke leaves immediately, then contact Mr Whitaker. Have Bernard do it if
you pass him in the hall.”

As Ophelia and her husband left the library, he learned down
to murmur in her ear.

“I thought you fired Whitaker for being too overprotective?”

“That is something I will deal with when the
time comes.”

“Hello, little
deartháir
.”

Harry’s eyes did not open, but the corners of his mouth
turned up at the sound of such a lovely voice. “I’m an only child!”

The owner of the voice had a throaty, musical laugh.
“In what alternate universe?”

And all the attitude of a native New Yorker.

Harry sighed wistfully and allowed his eyes to flutter open.
A woman stood smirking at the foot of his hospital bed as he took in the fact
that she was artfully poured into a black catsuit and that her décolletage
nearly popped. He tried to seem like he wasn’t staring as he admired the gleam
of her violet eyes and the way her auburn hair fell in waves over her
shoulders. A silver hoop gleamed in each ear and her nails shined like the
garnet studs inserted above the hoops.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

“What gave it away?”

He waved off her sarcasm. “Don’t mind me. I’m just a
stumblebum who barely remembers his father and can’t seem to recall his
mother!” Harry hesitated, his smile subsiding. “Were you there? At my accident,
I mean?”

“No, Harry; I was not.”

“Can you at least tell me how my father died?”

The woman’s features softened and she found a chair.
“A grievous error in judgment, I am told.”

“And my mother?”

“Very much alive.”
Before he could
speak again, she added,
“If you are meant to remember these
things, Harry, you will in time. It is not my place to tell you your life
story.”

“Are you one of those cousins I once found a birthday card
from? I saw a piece of an envelope in the fireplace one time when I was
five….all I could read was ‘Harrison’ and ‘County Wicklow’. That’s in Ireland,
right?”

“I am not Rose,”
the woman replied.
“Though Aunt Catherine passed away when you were fourteen. Uncle
James lives near Glendalough still.”

“I have other cousins, though, right?”

“Nor am I Romy, daughter of Nora and
Edward.”

Harry’s eyes searched hers for answers.

“I am your elder sister, Ophelia Rhiannon
Osborn.
Athair
sent me.”

“Ah-hir?” he echoed.

“Irish is my first language,”
Ophelia
explained.
“‘
Athair
’ means ‘father’.”

His eyes closed briefly.

“I am not here to visit.
Athair
sent
me here to inform you that you have been relieved of your duties.”