Vain exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Roman was close; close enough to point at, even without being able to see him. Only a few miles away, and again like a stable rock in her head. She sagged with relief.
She and Emma had followed the slow, steady pull from Roman for about a half a day. Vain had expected to find him with the Wyatts. Instead, the highway signs pointed them towards Minneapolis. He'd run to the twins. If he was there, it meant he had escaped.
How, though? She ran through scenarios in her mind. After she fell, everyone probably stopped for a moment to admire how awesome she was. The Wyatts must have talked about how she beat them and how they were dumb, stupid losers. Roman used that time to ninja-roll away. Maybe he shimmied down a rain gutter, or something.
It made sense. The Wyatts would have been like, "even though Vain kicked our asses and we're total morons, she's also the best." Roman, agile gymnast that he was, would have scaled down the side of a five-story building. Once he realized she wasn't a squishy corpse on the sidewalk, he'd understand what the Padlock did. Roman was so smart. Knowing she was safe, he came to Minneapolis to wait for her and maybe say hi to the twins and Charm. It was literally the only scenario that made sense.
"Is this it?"
Vain blinked. Beside her, Emma was a pale, exhausted mess, her skin the color of expired yogurt. The past few days had been difficult for her. She fell into that world without asking for it; but then again, none of them had asked for it. As far as Vain figured, life represented a non-stop series of problems that needed solving. Some required a subtle approach, but for most, punching did the trick. Either way, when the problems stopped, it meant you were dead.
"This is it." Vain motioned towards the restaurant. The name on the front read 'HBC Bar and Grill'. Cute. Emma parked a couple of spots down and they hopped out of the car. She'd have to figure out what to do with it later; they couldn't keep driving around in a stolen Wyatt vehicle.
"We'll find help here?" Emma asked. "Your friends?"
"Yep." Vain ignored the nervous flutter in her stomach. "Great friends. Chums. Real buddies. Certainly not a shred of unresolved animosity, if that's what you think, Emma. That's quite forward of you, why would you say that?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Don't worry about a thing." Vain couldn't take her eyes from the restaurant. Roman was in there. She felt him. Charm would be in there, too. "I like Charm," she said, in case Emma had doubts.
"Like, the cereal? Lucky Charms? What?"
"Okay." Vain clapped her hands. Her voice was too loud. "Let's go visit my good friends who will be happy to see me."
Emma sighed at her, but Vain was getting used to that. She suspected Emma had undiagnosed asthma and made a mental note to talk to her about it.
They shuffled through the front door into the din of the crowded restaurant. Cheery faces filled the tables; families with kids who drew on placemats with worn-down crayons. These were people who seemed happy and relaxed, as if they were not being chased by psychopathic rejects from an alternate earth. She couldn't relate.
"Table for two?" An aggressively cheerful young girl with a brown ponytail approached them, holding out two menus.
Vain flinched. "Charm, Blunt or Hush. Get one of them. Now."
The young frowned. "Is that a reservation? Under Charm Bluntenhush? Am I spelling that with a 'C' or a 'K'?" She looked at her reservation sheet. "Is that, um... Orthodox?" She smiled helpfully at them.
"Get the owners of the bar," Vain enunciated. "And tell them Vain is here."
"Are you with the health inspector? Should I get the chef?" A look of concern crossed her face.
Vain's head pulsed with an oncoming headache. Roman was only fifty feet away; she sensed him in the building. He was so close, and this dumb idiot stood in her way. She should knock her silly. Vain's nerves were all over the place, which was odd. She had nothing to be nervous about.
"We're meeting friends." Emma pushed in front of Vain wearing a big friendly smile. "We're the first ones here, we'll wait."
"No problem," said the hostess, visibly more comfortable dealing with Emma. "We have a bar around the corner. You can grab a table there and order appetizers while you're waiting."
The hostess gestured, and Emma plucked at Vain's shoulder, pulling her along. The noise of the restaurant surrounded Vain, smothering her. Trapping her. Everywhere she looked, people. The constant rumble from conversation made it difficult to hear anything, and as they got further in, she lost sight of the exit. Although not that warm, her clothes stuck to her body and she couldn't work saliva into her mouth.
Emma and the stupid hostess led her through the crowd, and Vain concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. They slid into a booth and, as soon as she sat down, Vain's shoulders climbed up into her ears.
Emma tilted her head. "Are you okay? Your face is flushed."
Vain tried to say, "I'm fine" but no words came out. Her mouth flopped open and her breath exhaled in a puff. She felt like she was choking.
"Vain?"
"Perfect." The word out dribbled out. A heaving gasp followed, her heart beating a mile a minute. It was nothing unusual though, she was only eager to reunite with Roman. That's all. Perfectly normal. No need to worry that her heart was being crushed in an invisible vice.
"I need..." she said, but couldn't get any further. The booth was shrinking, pressing in around her shoulders. Why did stupid Emma pick a stupid booth? Her breathing increased to a pant.
"Vain, you don't look good. Should we find a place to lie down?"
Vain gaped at her.
"Wait," said Emma. "Are you... you're not enochlophobic, are you?"
"No, I like Mexican food," Vain gasped. She had picked up a paper napkin and ripped it into tiny pieces. She didn't remember picking it up.
"It appears you're having a panic attack," Emma said.
"I'm super-duper." She took deep breaths. It helped a little. "I don't like crowds, and I'm excited to see Roman."
"Yes, that's what enochlophobia is."
"There's a word for being excited to see Roman?"
Emma shook her head. "It means 'fear of crowds'."
"Why wouldn't you say it that way, then? Do you use big words to make people confused with your secret, multi-syllable language?" Vain talked faster, the anxiety escaping out. Breathing exercises weren't working. She wanted to punch Emma in her smug, non-terrified, pretty face. It probably wouldn't alleviate her panic, but then again, punching never made anything worse.
Emma flagged down a passing server. "Can we get a glass of water?" She tapped her chin, thinking. "You know what else? Two shots of whiskey, and a paper bag."
"Panic attack?" he asked. On Emma's nod, he continued, "My boyfriend gets them all the time. The paper bag might help, but if it doesn't, I can round up a sedative, if you think she needs it."
"We should be alright," replied Emma.
"I'll be quick." The server skipped off without missing a beat. Apparently, he was no stranger to dehydrated, alcoholic, bag-needing women.
The fist clutching Vain's heart gave a quick squeeze, and she gasped.
Emma put her hands on the table and leaned forward. "Vain, I need you to listen. You'll get through this, but you need to do what I say. Can you take some deep breaths for me?"
Vain nodded, but the rumbling noise overwhelmed her. There were people everywhere, all laughing; and the jarring and broken sound came from every direction. It pierced her skull like a cold headache. Somewhere behind her a child wailed, and she jumped. Was there a Wyatt hiding in the crowd? From the table next to them, a man looked at her strangely. He wasn't a Wyatt, but he had a mustache, which was almost as bad. Never trust men with mustaches: that was practically rule number one.
"I have to get out of here," she whispered. She wanted to move but couldn't. If she ran, she'd be further away from Roman, but if she stayed, they'd get her.
"Vain, look at me," Emma spoke in a slow, measured cadence, and Vain tried to pay attention. "Take one deep breath. Stop thinking. Breathe."
Vain didn't love the condescending way Emma was talking to her and she didn't like being told what to do, but the hand clutching her heart had a tight grip and oxygen sounded like a good idea. She took a giant breath and her panic diminished from a frantic yell to a persistent lecture. It wasn't exactly peaceful, but it was progress. She took another, and another. The room swam back into focus.
At some point, Emma had taken hold of her hands to stop her from tearing at the napkin. Touching. Yuck. She tried to pull away, but Emma had a firm grip. "That's good, Vain. Keep breathing. You're doing awesome. Is your friend close? Roman?"
Vain hated the way Emma looked at her—like she needed help—and for a moment, anger bubbled up and took over from the panic. Where was Roman? She concentrated. There.
"Above us," she said. "Above the restaurant" She pointed toward the kitchen, not looking up from the table.
The waiter returned with their drinks along with the paper bag.
"Thanks," Emma said. "We'll be okay. Can you do us a favor? We're here to meet old friends, and I believe one of them is with the owners. I think they're upstairs, there's a separate space up there?" The waiter nodded. "His name is Roman. If you get a moment, can you run up and let him know that Vain is here?" She gave that big, winning smile again, and the waiter smiled back.
"Yeah, you got it. Can you say that name again?"
"Vain," replied Vain through clenched teeth. "Vee ay eye enn. Vain."
"Neat. Are you, like, a magician?"
"Thanks very much," said Emma, smiling again. "Can you let him know we're here?"
The waiter walked off and Emma turned back to Vain. "Drink your water and whiskey. Once that's done, breathe into the bag. If Roman isn't here in five minutes, I'll go upstairs myself."
Roman. He would come down and see her like this, a flustered mess. That terrified her more than the crowd. She clutched the water with a trembling hand and drank half of it in a gulp. The whiskey came next, burning an angry path down her throat and settling like fire in her stomach. She took deep breaths into the paper bag.
"You don't do anything halfway, do you?" Emma gave a rueful chuckle. She sipped her water and made a face. "Nothing goes down right anymore. Not since I've gotten this thing."
Vain took the bag away. "Roman said eating and drinking were the two of the things he missed the most. Well, that, and having a memory and a life, but a close second was eating and drinking. You don't need to do it anymore."
Emma pushed the glass away. "I hope your friends can help me get rid of it so I can get back to my life."
Vain wasn't sure they could turn the power off, but she said nothing. Numbness spread through her nose and cheeks. The whiskey was getting to work. The hand clutching her heart relaxed its grip a little. The chatter faded, and, after a few seconds, became background noise.
The sensation of Roman grew in her mind. His presence came closer and her nerves spiked for different reasons. The doors to the kitchen swung open and there he was, looking around the restaurant.
His eyes were red and tired, and he had a little stubble on his chin, but he looked like he had recently cleaned up. His brown hair was combed and washed, and someone had gotten him a beige wool knit sweater that made him appear quite responsible. She approved and decided Roman should only wear wool knit sweaters from now on.
A faded red welt also marked his face. Someone had hit him. Motherfucker. Someone had hit her Roman. She clenched her teeth and made a mental note. 'Someone' needed to be punched in the face with a tire iron.
He frantically scanned the restaurant before settling on her. His mouth dropped and his eyes tried to erupt from his head. Why was he surprised? He broke into a huge smile and the grip released her heart. She sagged with relief. He pushed his way through the crowd towards her and she stood up from the booth. She needed to do something with everything inside her, so she wrapped her arms around her body. He stopped in front of her.
"Vain." Was he crying? "How are you alive?"
"I'm aces." She smiled. He was crying. "Why are you sad? Are you watching Field of Dreams?" That movie always made him cry at the end.
"I thought you were dead."
"Why would I be dead?"
"You fell off a five-story building."
"Oh, that. The Padlock doesn't keep a thing safe, it keeps a person safe. You figured that out, good for you."
"Wait, you fell off a building?" Emma interrupted. "You never told me that."
"How would I have figured that out?" replied Roman. "The Padlock saved you? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right. When I pulled the Wyatt off the building, the Padlock opened and exploded me to Boston. Then you shimmied down the side of the building."
"Shimmy? What? You exploded?" Roman appeared to be getting frustrated, which was weird because he knew all of this already.
"How else would you have gotten away from the Wyatts?"
"I didn't get away. They took me to a house and Trick was there."
"Trick?" Her chest constricted with fear. "When did you see that piece of garbage?"
"It's a long story." He considered it for a moment. "Actually, it's incredibly short. Trick captured me, but I escaped and took a bus here. The bus had inadequate foot space and smelled like ham. The end."
"You saw him?"
He nodded. "Yeah, the Wyatts took me to a safe house. I head-butted him and broke his nose."
"Good," said Vain, trying to process this information. "I told you to stay close, why didn't you?"
"You fell off the top of a building."
"Did the Wyatts at least mention how cool it was?"
"No," Roman replied, now obviously irritated. "No one thought it was cool when we all thought you were dead. I've been in misery for the past week. I thought I had lost you forever."
"Well, I'm not dead, I'm alive and I have the Padlock and I brought along this Emma."
He looked over at 'this Emma', who rang her finger around the lip of her water glass. "And she is?"
"She's like us, but everyone is her Conduit. She let the stupid Wyatts kidnap her, even though I warned her about it." Emma objected, but Vain knew she'd mess up the story, so she kept going. "I saved her by hitting them with a tire iron, like, a bunch of times. It was great. A cab driver ran over one and she energy-shot another into space. Then we blew up a gas station, but that's not related to the main story, I just thought it was cool. I'm sure Arthur will keep coming after her, so we have to help." Now that she was in front of Roman and talking, her panic disappeared. She waved her hands around her head while she talked, increasingly excited. It was so great to be with him again.
Roman shook his head and looked back and forth between Emma and Vain. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Vain fidgeted. Was she in trouble? Was he mad at her? That worried her more than the Wyatts. Eventually, he took a deep breath.
"Vain," he said. "I'm glad you're okay. I missed you. A lot."
"I'm sorry the Wyatts captured you," she said, happy he wasn't angry. "I'm glad you're okay, too. But honestly, Roman, you should have escaped when they talked about my awesome disappearance and how kick-ass I am. You could have ninja-rolled."
"They didn't..." he started to say, but then shook his head. "Emma, it's wonderful to meet you. I'm sorry you've been dragged into this." He held out his hand and Emma took it and smiled sweetly.
"I've heard a lot about you, Roman," Emma said. "Vain didn't tell me the full story, but she spoke highly of you. It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry I've been dragged into this too, I only want my life to go back to normal so I can go home. Vain said you'd be able to help me."
Roman gave her a sideways glance Vain recognized as his 'oh-god-what-did-you-say-now?' look. "We'll figure this all out together. Why don't we head upstairs and meet the rest of the group?"
Vain's stomach flipped over, once, for good measure. Yes. Good. Nothing stressful about that at all.
Time to say hello to the group.