Columbine

In all my life, I’d never been hugged quite as much as I was when Valentin and I timidly walked back into the lab, Charlie complaining behind us. The way Sarah and Scarlett had wrapped their tentacle-like arms around me, it felt as if I might burst from the pressure. But, all in all, I loved them for it.

They’d been utterly horrified at the sight of the slash-mark that was on my arm, courtesy of a sadistic Doc who’d been showing my value to Damien. Sarah had managed to heal it, but a pale scar was still visible. I didn’t care -- at least I was alive.

After I took a long, cool shower and washed the crusted blood off my skin and out of my hair, I felt relatively normal. Sarah and Scarlett insisted on staying with me through the cleansing process, brushing my hair and doing my nails. I didn’t dare complain this time. At least they weren’t painting my face, which I could only be grateful for.

Sarah and Scarlett filled me in on how they’d managed to track down my kidnappers. After the FFH leader had confessed to having less control over his organization than he’d have liked, not wanting a valuable commodity such as me to fall into the wrong hands, they’d joined forces with a few rogue Demataxt agents to help track me down. Apparently the spell to locate people was one that required both mage and witch magic -- a concept I couldn’t ever fully grasp. I knew that mages and witches had their specialties, but I’d never bothered finding out what they were.

They also explained how we now had people inside the Demataxt who would be our safety net if the worst were to happen. Damien and his partner, as well as one other girl named Elizabeth Durham, who was apparently very famous, were our double agents.

“You poor girl.” Scarlett said as she ran a hairbrush through my hair for the thousandth time in the last hour. “I’m surprised you’re not traumatized for life. God knows the rest of us are.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll crack soon enough.” I assured her.

“Can you believe those jerks won’t let you rest up before another opening?” Sarah huffed, with the jerks signifying the great human public which had taken a liking to the Blood Bank.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” I said.

“Well, you should.” Sarah said, flinging dresses from the closet out onto the bed. “If your own fans are willing to walk all over you, who knows what your enemies will do?”

“Fans?” I blinked. “I have fans?”

“Of course you do!” Scarlett exclaimed.

“Your name is starting to become pretty famous. Not on the higher levels of the grapevine, of course, but definitely getting there.” Sarah said.

“It can’t get too famous.” I bit my lip. “If it does, we’re done for. As long as the Demataxt doesn’t know about the music, we should be pretty low on their list of priorities.”

Having heard Damien describe my crimes so condescendingly to the kidnappers, I practically believed that the Demataxt wouldn’t be bothered with anyone but Sarah.

“You should have heard how outraged people were when they found out you’d been kidnapped.” Scarlett said.

“I think it may have been the only reason Charles Harvard cooperated. It got out that he had a few rogue members, and he didn’t want to lose public support.” Sarah said, finally picking out two dresses out of the pile she’d made on my bed. She held both of them up in front of her, as if weighing the choices in a mental balance.

“Which one do you want?” She asked me.

“Red one.” I drawled automatically.

“None of the dresses are red, Columbine.” She smiled. “Why don’t you actually look at them?”

I did look at them. They both looked equally over-feminine, pricey, and more unlike me than an article of clothing could possibly be. I knew there was no way for me to ever feel comfortable in either dress.

“The long one.” I finally sighed. At least that way if I was thrown into a dark cellar this time, I’d have more skin covered.

“The long one it is.” Sarah smiled, throwing the other dress into the pile with the rest of the rejects.

Being back in the lab, other than being a relief after almost getting sold for reward money, was proving to be a continuation of the routine that it had clicked into after the Blood Bank had been opened.

I didn’t know what everyone else did in between openings, but I used a lot of my free time for sleeping. If I found myself awake, I used that time to fill some sort of bottomless pit in my stomach that had been growing larger with the years.

Valentin had given me what food had been in the kitchen earlier, and had promised that he’d make something just for me. He hadn’t told me what that something was going to be, but I knew it was coming any minute. I felt my stomach churn hungrily.

“So are you absolutely sure you’re ready for another opening night?” Sarah asked. “You don’t have to make an appearance if you aren’t ready. We’ll understand.”

“I’ve told you, I’m fine.” I said, tired of reassuring them. But I knew that I’d just have to keep on at it, if I ever expected them to stop asking.

The truth was, I was freaked out. Who wouldn’t be after being a hostage for a bit less than a week? But I knew from experience that putting off real life would only make the trauma worse. The only way I’d ever feel normal was if I stayed strong, faced my fears, and did what I’d grown to love, which was sit and watch Blood Bank nights. I never actually participated in the fun, but then again, I liked it that way.

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Sarah called.

“Me.” Valentin’s voice answered.

The door opened, and I was greeted by the sight of Valentin holding a paper bag. I was more interested in what was in the bag than about anything else. He placed it in my hand. It was warm and smelled like something from a dream. It was the warm smell of vanilla and baked dough. I looked inside, and saw that it was as I’d suspected: chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven.

“How did you--?” I didn’t bother finishing the sentence, I was too busy shoving one of the ambrosial cookies into my mouth.

“You’re like every girl’s dream, you know that?” Sarah said. “You can cook, and you look great in a tux.”

Valentin didn’t really answer to that, other than with a trademark shrug.

“Columbine, we need to talk.” He suddenly announced.

“About what?” I asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me.

I swallowed what was in my mouth and licked the crumbs from the corners of my mouth before answering.

“I keep telling everyone I’m fine.” I shrugged, reaching into the bag for another cookie.

“That’s what you tell everyone, but how are you, really?” He leaned forward.

There was still a good chunk of polite distance between us, but I could almost feel him near me, the way you feel heat waft through an open door.

“Should we step outside?” Scarlett asked. I shook my head.

“No, you can stay if you want.” I told her.

“You know what?” Sarah said. “We’ll just go get some more stuff from upstairs.”

“I just told you you don’t have to go.” I said through gritted teeth.

But it was too late -- she and Scarlett were already making a dash to some anonymous location, leaving me alone with Valentin to fend for myself. The door closed after them, and silence filled the room. I hadn’t realized that so much noise had been coming from the two of them until they’d left.

“Idiots.” I muttered, reaching for another cookie.

“They’re just worried about you.” Valentin explained.

“I just wish they’d shut up about it. I can’t exactly calm down if they keep reminding me what happened.” I said.

“We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, Columbine.” He said. “If we’d been even a day too late, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“But you were just in time.” I set the bag of cookies down, suddenly not very hungry.

“Don’t you ever think about your own safety?” He frowned. “You seem awfully calm for someone who was kidnapped not a week ago.”

“And what would you have me do? Bawl my head off in front of everyone?” I asked.

“I’d suggest you take some precautions.” I said.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “Like what?”

“For one, you can’t just run off unsupervised anymore. The only reason you were kidnapped in the first place is because you were alone.” He crossed his arms. “From now on, you’ll need supervision.” He said. “Charlie said he’d be up for it.”

I couldn’t even answer him. I just sat there, gaping like an idiot, half-chewed bits of cookie still sitting on my tongue. The sugary taste had turned unappetizingly sour.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He said.

I closed my mouth, still at a loss for words.

“I can’t believe this!” I finally exclaimed.

“You’d better get used to it.” Valentin said. “We shouldn’t have let you become so vulnerable in the first place. There will be no more trips to the surface from now on. You need something -- tell someone. Under no circumstances are you to be out in the open.”

I felt anger pusating in the pit of my stomach, but there were still no words coming out. I guess it was because deep down I knew Valentin was probably right. As much as I would have wished to prove him wrong, I knew that it was not going to be now. Finding nothing else to do, I reached for another cookie.

“So you’re alright with this?” Valentin asked when I didn’t say anything.

“Not exactly, but it’s not like I have a choice, do it?” I snapped.

“That’s right.” He nodded.

It was then that Sarah and Scarlett came back, their arms overflowing with water bottles and other items meant to enhance my appearance. I spied an eyelash curler and pair of tweezers, among other things. I knew I was going to have to have a nice long chat with the two of them later about the more painful area of cosmetics.

“You two okay?” Sarah asked.

Even though she didn’t say it, I knew what that question really meant: had we had yet another in a long, winding line of arguments, most of which were more my fault than anything? I was almost proud to be able to sincerely say that this conversation had not escalated to insults.

“We’re fine.” Valentin said. “I actually have to be leaving now. There a few things I need to do before it gets late.”

“Well, you take care.” Scarlett waved at him with a single high-heeled shoe in her hand. It was no doubt going to be an instrument used to torture me under the guise of being a toy in a game of dress-up.

As soon as Valentin was out of earshot, the concert of girlish squeals began on behalf of the fact that there had been no cursing on my part during the discussion I’d had with him. I merely rolled my eyes at this, somehow still too shaken-up by the previous week to mind.

“I do believe our little ice queen is warming up!” Sarah gave my shoulder a much-deserved pat. I didn’t bother explaining that this little ice queen had almost been fed to the Demataxt, and couldn’t bring herself to aruge with anyone at the moment, no matter what provocations might be put into play.

Had I not been through hell, I’d have made on hell of a scene just then. Even with my surrendered attitude, I could still tell that I’d be outraged in a day or two. The fact that Charlie, the stalker king, was going to be my bodyguard from then on was definitely something I would regret.

“You should have seen how mad Valentin was when we found out you were missing.” Scarlett told me. “He would have killed Dennis if Charlie hadn’t stopped him.”

“Dennis!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering that he was probably fortunate to be alive at this point. “What’s happened to him? I didn’t see him on the way in.”

“Valentin didn’t murder him, if that’s what you mean.” Sarah said. “When we found out the FFH was involved, Dennis received most of the blame for dragging you into their business.”

“But it wasn’t really the FFH that kidnapped me… It was just some creeps that wanted the money.” I shrugged.

“Do you think we cared at the time?” Sarah asked. “Finding out the FFH was involved was bad enough. Finding out they were unstable was almost too much.”

I had to say, if the FFH hadn’t gotten so interested in the Blood Bank when it did, we’d have had that many problems less to deal with. I didn’t know much about terrorist cells and rebel organizations, but they’d always seemed to consist of thugs with a cause. None of them wanted to negotiate anything, or even consider talking to the Demataxt formally. It was always guns and bombs. Not exactly what you would want in the people who allegedly represent the human population as a whole, as they so proudly claimed with names like “Front for Humanity”.

“But one thing is clear.” Sarah smiled. “If Valentin wasn’t in love with you before, he sure is now.”

“Oh, shut up.” I grumbled.

This time the words ‘Valentin’ and ‘in love’ didn’t make a single nerve tingle or make my stomach clench as if I were in a doctor’s office. I stayed blissfully unaffected by the combination, and found that I liked it very much. If I’d finally grown immune to Sarah baiting me with stupid things like this, it was more than enough cause to be glad.

But unfortunately, I didn’t turn out to be immune to the torture of trying on countless outfits for three straight hours. There really is nothing like a girls’ night in to make you forget you were ever kidnapped.

The third opening of the Blood Bank approached rapidly. I’d barely woken up when Sarah forced me to get into my dress and smothered me with the usual makeup that always made my face feel heavy. To my relief, she allowed me a pair of flat shoes, albeit still extremely uncomfortable.

“This opening is going to be special.” Sarah squeaked as she herself got dolled up.

“Aren’t they all special?” I asked.

“Well, yes, but this is the first one since you were kidnapped. People were worried about you.” She said.

“So I’ve heard.” I said.

It was still incomprehensible to me how complete strangers would worry about me. Maybe I really did matter to them as much as I’d been told I did. The feeling of being adored was so alien, it hardly felt real. A history of being generally hated by my peers might have been at fault, so I tried to reassure myself that my present social status was nothing unnatural, all things considered.

“Have I told you that your name is famous now?” Sarah asked.

“Only a million times.” I shrugged. I still didn’t believe her. The Blood Bank had been open a mere two times -- when the hell had my name had time to become famous?

“Well, I’m ready to go.” Sarah announced, turning around in front of the mirror, smoothing her dress and her hair. She looked more comfortable in her skin than I could ever hope to be.

“Let’s go, then.” I said, and stood up. I was happy not to have to wobble as I walked this time, but still didn’t take too kindly to the fact that these shoes had not yet been broken into.

As we went upstairs, I could hear someone yelling.

“What the hell’s going on up there?” I asked, and quickened my pace.

When I finally did reach the great hall, I could finally discern who was doing all the yelling. Dennis and Valentin’s voices came into focus, and I could see them practically at each other’s throats with rage.

“I have a right to see her!” Dennis yelled.

“And I have a right to kill you where you stand.” Valentin snarled. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to come here after what you dragged us into.”

“Either you let me talk to her, or I’ll--.”

“You’ll what?” Valentin cut him off. “We already told you you can’t ever come back here.”

“Just let me see her, and I’ll never darken your doorstep again.” Dennis promised.

“That’s it. I’m giving you until the count of three. If you’re not walking out of here by then, I’ll be happy to help you.” Valentin threatned, his face grim.

“I’m not leaving.” Dennis said stubbornly. “Not until I see her.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Valentin said, and grabbed him by the collar. “Because you’re leaving.”

“Wait!” I yelled before he could get carried away.

The two of them immediately looked in my direction. Dennis’ face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw me.

“Columbine!” He exclaimed. “You’re okay!”

“Valentin, just let him talk to me.” I said.

Valentin looked like he’d have loved to strangle Dennis then and there, but somehow managed to hold himself back on my behalf.

“I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.” Dennis said as he ran up to me.

“Don’t mention it.” I said, ushering him into the kitchen, closing the door for better privacy.

“No. This is my fault. I’m the one who put the FFH on your tail. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d
never have been kidnapped.” Dennis said, hanging his head in apology.

His black eye wasn’t as bad as it had been, but you could still see traces of it. I briefly wondered if Valentin would have renewed Dennis’ subscription to bodily harm if I hadn’t intervened.

“Look,” I sighed, “if you hadn’t put the FFH onto the Blood Bank, someone else would have. It would have been just a matter of time.”

Dennis stared at me, as if to ascertain that I really was fine. Not particularly wanting to have a staring contest, I found the remains of last night’s dinner and helped myself. I hadn’t gotten to enjoy a full breakfast, so I was still pretty hungry. The days I’d spent in the cellar without food hadn’t helped much, either.

“I just can’t believe you’re really okay.” Dennis said.

“Neither can I.” I admitted. “It feels almost unreal.”

“How can I ever make it up to you?” Dennis asked.

“I’ll just take a rain check on that offer.” I said, shoveling as much food as I could. It occurred to me that I’d probably ruined my lipstick, but it was too late to worry about it then.

I could hear people filtering into the Blood Bank, their footsteps and voices mingling in the enormous room.

It was then that Charlie burst into the kitchen, almost making me choke on a piece of chicken.

“What in the hell are you doing in here?” He snapped. “You know you’re not supposed to be by yourself!”

“Which I’m not.” I snapped right back at him.

Charlie assessed Dennis’ presence for all of two seconds before snorting most rudely in his direction.

“You must be joking.” He crossed his arms. “This is even worse than you being alone. This is you alone with the very punk who got you into that mess.”

“Hey!” Dennis yelled. “You watch your mouth!”

“Anyway, you have to greet the guests, sweetie-pie.” Charlie reminded me.

The food, as always, suddenly didn’t sit too well in my stomach. The notion of going up on the stage again was one that I’d taken every possible effort to put out of my mind while I’d had the opportunity. Now it was time to face my fear.

“Lets go.” Charlie held out his hand for me to take.

Not particularly thinking of the implications of his gesture, I let him lead me out of the kitchen and into the great hall, where there were more people converging than I could ever hope to count. My legs were practically jelly by the time the two of us had made our way to the top of the stage.

I could see everyone from there. Every expectant face was turned in my direction, and everyone was dolled up for the occasion. I felt my heart flutter in my chest at the sight of them, eyes bright and holding no traces of the weariness and miserable countenance that had become epidemic over the past few years.

“Good evening.” Charlie’s voice boomed. It sounded as if he might have been speaking through a microphone, were it possible. “As you can see, we have found Columbine Wells, safe and sound.”

It was when the audience took their time to applaud the announcement when he slipped something into my hand. It was a small satchel filled with something hard.

“It’s to make your voice louder.” He told me. “Sarah concocted it for me.”

“What in the hell do you want me to say?” I whispered back, but was shocked to find that my voice was as loud as Charlie’s had been not a moment ago.

A low wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. I winced at my screwup, trying hard to ignore the fool I’d just made of myself.

“Uh…hi.” I finally said, and waved to the crowd a little. A chorus of “hi” greeted me back, as well as another small ripple of laughter.

“Do you guys like it here?” I asked, still utterly petrified. I got all the answer I needed when the entire room cheered in response.

“Good.” I said. “Because we worked a hell of a lot to set all this up.”

Another ripple, some whistling, some applause.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting to have a nice time, so I’ll just let you enjoy yourselves.” I said awkwardly, and stalked off the stage before Charlie could tell me how moronically I’d addressed the crowd.

There was an explosion of cheering as I descended from the stage, Charlie at my heels. The music was brought out of hybernation a short moment later, and the familiar rhythm of the Blood Bank was discovered again.

I found Sarah, Scarlett, and Valentin and joined them as quickly as I could, so as not to get trampled.

“Columbine, that was really good.” Sarah gave me a squeeze.

“Don’t bring it up.” I warned her. “I know I sucked.”

“No, I think you did brilliantly.” Scarlett said.

“Yeah?” I groaned. “How so?”

“Well, you were modest. Pretty likeable, if you ask me.” She shrugged. “Anyway, even if you
did mess anything up, nobody cares now.”

She did have a point. Everyone was long lost in a world of fun, dance, and music. My heart sapped a little bit at the sight of it, as always. I’d long since given up trying to avoid tearing up at our accomplishment. If my eyes got a bit watery at such a beautiful vision, then it was my god-given right to be teary-eyed.

It continued on like that for two more hours, during which Steve, the bartender, found his place at our table, crate of complimentary beverages in tow. He convinced Sarah, Scarlett, and Charlie to accept a small token of his appreciation in the form of a bottled beer each. Valentin and I were the only ones not drinking, although probably for different reasons.

He and I exchanged several glances over the course of the evening, and it occurred to me that our relationship had probably changed status. Not only had he rescued me from an early grave as someone’s bounty, but then I had to go and hug him, being the stupid person that I was. Looking back, I wasn’t even sure why I’d done it. Maybe I was simply too overwhelmed with emotion that I had to hug somebody -- anybody, regardless of who, as long as they weren’t my kidnappers.

Suddenly Valentin looked up, as if he’d just seen something odd. I looked in the same direction, and saw that the subject of his attention had been a petite, busty blonde running in our direction. She was glistening with sweat. As she approached us, I leaned over and asked him who she was.

“That’s Elizabeth Durham.” He explained. “She’s one of the people who helped rescue you.”

“You mean she’s one of the double agents?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m not sure she’d be here if it wasn’t important.” He stood up as Elizabeth Durham finally completed the distance and grabbed the table, as if not to fall over.

“Val!” She finally said, her voice hoarse as hell. “There’s not much time, so you have to listen to me!”

By then, it wasn’t just Valentin who was listening. It was all of us.

“We have a situation.” She announced. “The Demataxt knows where you are, Val. They know about everything, and they’re going to be here very soon.”

I could feel myself shut down.

“Now listen to me very carefully.” She swallowed. “You are not to resist arrest, do you understand? You are to let them take you. No matter what you do, do not fight back. We’re going to get you out of there, but no matter what you do, do not resist arrest!”

…And so the shit had hit the fan.