07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

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Bonnie decided, with seconds precious and seeming to stretch for hours, that what was going to
happen was going to happen no matter what she did. And there was a matter of pride here. She knew
that there were people who would laugh at that, but it was true. Despite Elena’s new Powers, Bonnie
was the one most used to confronting stark darkness. She was somehow alive after all that. And very
soon she would not be. And the way she went was the only thing left up to her.
She heard a glissando of screams and then she heard them come to a halt. Well, that was
all she could do for the moment. Stop screaming. The choice was made. Bonnie would go out,
unbroken, defiant—and silent.
The moment she stopped shrieking Shinichi made a gesture and the ogre who had hold of
her stopped carrying her to the window.
She’d known it. He was a bully. Bullies wanted to hear that things hurt or that people
were miserable. The ogre lifted her so her face was level with Shinichi’s. “Excited about your oneway
trip?”
“Thrilled,” she said expressionlessly. Hey, she thought, I’m not so bad at this brave thing.
But everything inside her was shaking at double time in order to make up for her stony face.
Shinichi opened the window. “Still thrilled?”
Now that had done something, opening the window had. She was not going to be
smashed against glass until she broke it with her face and went sailing through the jagged bits. There
wasn’t going to be pain until she hit the ground and nobody would know about that, not even her.
Just do it and get it over with, Bonnie thought. The warm breeze from the window told
her that this—place—this slave-selling place—where customers were allowed to sift through the
slaves until they found just the right one—was too highly air-conditioned.
I’ll be warm, even if it’s just for a second or so, she thought.
When a door near them banged, Bonnie nearly jumped out of the ogre’s arms, and when
the door to their own room banged open, she nearly jumped through her own skin.
You see? Something surged wildly through her. I’m saved! It only took a little of that
brave stuff and now…
But it was Shinichi’s sister, Misao. Misao, looking gravely ill, her skin ashen, holding on
to the door to hold herself up. The only thing about her that wasn’t grayed-out was her brilliant black
hair, tipped with scarlet at the ends, just like Shinichi’s.
“Wait!” she said to Shinichi. “You never even asked about—”
“You think a little airhead like her would know? But have it your own way.” Shinichi