Nerve

by Kirsten Krueger

  “Did you really think that was me?” he asked, clear and blunt. “Did you really think I would want to return to this life, even if I could? I murdered my own mother. Did you think you could change that? Did you really think you could ever make me happy?”

  Frustration bled into his words, but the shell of Hastings standing at her door was cool, steady, and emotionless. Eliana wanted to study him—wanted to draw the angles and lines of his body, to sculpt him back to life—but her eyes darted frantically instead, searching for the voice’s source, the true Hastings.

  “Where were you when I almost murdered again? Why didn’t you help me when she took over my mind? You were the only weed that could kill the root of my anger, a beautiful weed—”

  “What are you talking about?” Eliana cried as her voice broke free from her throat. “Weed? Are you…talking about Ackerly? The flowers he grew at your grave…”

  “You’re missing the point, Eliana.”

  “Are you blaming me? I never wanted you to die. And I’m not—I’m not replacing you with Ackerly now that you’re gone!”

  “The point is you don’t know why I’m gone. You don’t know the reason behind my death.”

  “Angor! Angor is the reason behind your death!”

  A laugh echoed through the room, more prominent that Hastings’s typical snorts. “You were always so jealous of him—of the time I spent with him. It’s only logical you assume he’s evil.”

  “He is! He was the one controlling your mind and—”

  “He?” the voice repeated, now much too sinister to belong to Hastings. “But didn’t you hear me? Didn’t you hear me say she?”

  Eliana scrambled to decipher his thoughts and find an explanation for this, but the walls closed in around her mind and body. Before she could think to scream, her awareness was sucked from the dream and inserted back to her rightful body, where it lay in bed.

  “I’ll get it, since you’re so lazy.” That voice belonged to Kiki, who’d rolled out of bed to stomp toward the door. Apparently, someone had knocked.

  It took a moment for Eliana to reorient herself in this reality—the one in which Hastings was dead and not a talking phantom. A full day had passed since the funeral, two full days since his death, and classes had been canceled, leaving the students to roam aimlessly around town. Kiki had spent the majority of the day organizing her excess belongings while Eliana reluctantly accompanied Seth, Tray, and Ackerly in their attempt to visit Adara. It wasn’t that Eliana missed her old roommate; she didn’t, really, especially not since Adara had been so insensitive about Hastings’s death. Then again, she had tried to avenge him by attacking Angor as a ball of fire.

  The former principal was who Eliana had hoped to see—to pry into his mind and gauge the truth of his guiltlessness. Aethelred had admitted to the Stark twins that he didn’t believe Angor’s ability was mind controlling; now, after this dream, her need to invade his mind was more vital than ever. It had been a dream, yes, but if, in that dream, Hastings confessed he had been possessed by a she, and if, in real life, Angor denied the ability to possess minds at all…

  “What do you want?” Kiki snapped when she opened the door. Her annoyance immediately dwindled into disbelief, and she gawked through the crack at their visitor.

  “Who is it?” Eliana asked, sitting up.

  With a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder, Kiki hastily said, “No one,” before disappearing into the hall.

  Her unguarded thoughts made her hysteria evident to Eliana, even with the door closed between them. Upon approaching it, she heard panicked panting on the other side. When she finally dug into the visual cortex of Kiki’s mind and saw through her, Eliana’s own alarm spiked to the point of paralysis; Kiki, somehow, stared into familiar living blood red eyes.

  It was thoroughly impossible, but every inch of him was distinctly Hastings, from the messy hair and bronze skin to the nubby fingernails and expressionless face. He was more vivid now than in the dream, but she was still certain he couldn’t be real. She must have read Kiki’s vision incorrectly—something must have been amiss in the connection between their brains.

  “What is happening?” the blonde exploded in a whisper, confirming that she indeed saw Hastings as well. “Explain to me exactly how you are here while I focus on not thinking about the fact that you’re here so Eliana doesn’t find out.” Moaning, she rubbed her fingers over her forehead and strained to think other thoughts. Eliana wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for her new roommate’s atrocious control. “God, this is awful. I thought my Affinity was predicting the future, but now I’m seeing dead people again. Tell me this is a dream.”

  When he didn’t answer, she touched his hard jawbone and soft cheeks. Eliana closed her burning eyes as she felt the warmth of his flesh beneath Kiki’s fingertips, real and tangible and alive. The way his lips curled in response, though, forming a smirk too sly for Hastings, provoked Eliana’s eyes to spring open with newfound caution.

  “I didn’t know you could predict the future,” Hastings mused in a voice unlike his own. It was less raspy but still familiar. “That makes you a prophetess, doesn’t it?”

  Kiki’s small nostrils flared as she crossed her arms. “Only I can call myself prophetess, creep. How aren’t you dead? Everyone saw it, and I saw it.”

  Hastings’s eyes raked over her half-exposed body, and Eliana almost blushed—until she remembered she was seeing through Kiki’s vision. Then she couldn’t decide what disturbed her more: that Hastings was looking at Kiki like that, or that anyone was looking at Kiki like that. “Did you, now? Tell me more, Prophetess.”

  Perhaps it was Kiki’s irritation or perhaps it was her own, but either way, Eliana had had enough of idly watching this scene unfold. With a burst of indignation, she yanked the door open, clearing the threshold to witness Hastings with her own eyes. As soon as she did, she recognized it was not him—not her Hastings. The dramatic shock on his face never would have been displayed by the real Hastings, nor would his thoughts have been so exposed and vulnerable.

  “I just dreamt that Hastings came to our door,” Eliana said slowly, absorbing every detail of his appearance to find some flaw. In the dream, his pants had been purple, but they were now orange—the burnt orange of the Physicals. “And now he’s here.”

  Kiki tightened her folded arms. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I do know this isn’t Hastings.”

  “I’m…sorry,” said the boy before them as his deep red eyes flickered into a stormy gray. “I…didn’t think you would come out here. I was just—”

  “Trying to frazzle Kiki,” Eliana finished for him, her voice soft but her smile wry. “You succeeded.”

  “What is happening?” the blonde girl repeated as the boy’s physical features morphed.

  His skin darkened to the hue of midnight, his lengthy limbs condensed into toned muscle, and his hair shortened to black stubble. It was the boy who was Lavisa’s brother but who didn’t look like he should have been.

  “You!” Kiki gasped, as if he had committed the most heinous crime. “You’re that bitch’s brother!”

  “Well, no, I’m not Avner, but I could look like him, if you wanted me—”

  “I’m talking about Lavisa! Adara is old news, and she’s in prison, so she’s basically dead!”

  “While on the subject of dead people, I’m sorry again,” Ruse said to Eliana, his composure restored. Even if his tone had not been sincere, she would have believed him simply because the thoughts in his mind confirmed the truth of his statement. “About pretending to be Hastings and about the fact that Hastings is dead… I have news that’ll cheer you both up, though.”

  Kiki smiled, sarcastically sweet. “You’re leaving now?”

  “Yeah, actually. I’m heading down to JAMZ,” Ruse explained, glancing at his little sister’s door beside theirs. “Since the founders left, Nero decided to run it tonight. I heard him talking about it up on our fl
oor, and he said he doesn’t want any primies showing up, so I figured I’d ruin his night by specifically ensuring all the primies come.”

  Eliana gnawed on her lip. “I’m…not sure I want to see what JAMZ looks like with Nero in charge.”

  With a nod of understanding, Ruse turned back to Kiki, an invitation in his cool gray eyes. She examined him with distaste.

  “What happened to the blue eyes?”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t like the blue eyes; figured I’d try something a little different. Lavisa still seems to dislike me, no matter what form I take, of course, but—”

  “Hm, my enemy and I have something in common,” was Kiki’s only comment before she spun on her heel and vanished into room 305.

  Eliana eyed the new door, now closed, for a moment before looking at Ruse. “I’ll come.”

  “Really? You’re not too depressed?”

  Flattening some of the creases in her purple flannel pants, Eliana inhaled and said, “I’m not going to let…what happened affect me.”

  “Right…” Ruse eyed her, unconvinced. “Well, it affected me. Not Hastings’s death, but…other deaths…of people important to me. So, it’s okay to mourn.”

  Eliana knew exactly what this referred to, based on his unhindered thoughts, but she didn’t acknowledge it, knowing he would have specified if he’d wanted to. It wasn’t her place to leech off the emotions of strangers, but it calmed her—this reassurance that someone else understood the war of denial, anger, and sorrow raging in her mind.

  “Let’s go wake my sister, shall we?” Ruse prompted, slicing through what he perceived to be an awkward silence.

  Eliana gave him a polite smirk before following him to room 304, Lavisa’s dorm. “Why did you choose this as your default form?” she asked before he could rap his knuckles on the door. “It’s clearly not what you actually look like, unless Lavisa’s not your biological sister.”

  “She is. If you want the truth—which you could definitely discover by reading my mind, so I’ll just tell you—I was in Kiki’s dorm once, when she shared it with my sister, and saw some posters of a famous guy who looks just like this.” He motioned to the defined muscles and richly-colored skin. “Figured she thought he was hot, so here we are.”

  Eliana masked her budding protectiveness and quietly asked, “Why the interest in Kiki?”

  His expression darkened as his thoughts descended to the past. “I see the way she ogles Nero during training. Not many girls do, once they realize he’s with Nixie—or once they realize he’s a barbarian. I figured, if I distracted her enough, she’d be less preoccupied with him—wouldn’t wanna get involved. I’ve seen primies get ensnared in Nero’s posse, and it’s never a good position to get stuck in.”

  “You don’t have…a crush on her?”

  “She’s physically attractive, obviously, but…is it even possible to have a crush on someone with such an attitude?”

  Eliana recalled Seth’s infatuated thoughts of Kiki when they’d been dating; even then, the sentiments had been shallow because Kiki’s outward demeanor was shallow. The only reason Eliana hadn’t begged someone else to become her new roommate was because she could see past the surface, and the depths implied a potential no one else could comprehend.

  By the time Lavisa answered the door wearing tight, black clothes that looked more like fighting gear than pajamas, Ruse had morphed his appearance once more. Blinking, Eliana found one of the Stark twins at her side. With his styled hair and aura of agitation, he resembled Tray perfectly.

  Lowering the knife she’d pointed at them, Lavisa glanced between the pair. “If you’re going to ask me if I can leave my room so you can use it for sex, the answer is no.”

  Eliana gaped while Ruse tried his hardest not to giggle, as it would have been very un-Tray-like. Lavisa noticed the unnatural response from the boy who should have been appalled and, with the sniff of her nose, narrowed her eyes. “Brother. Have you finally decided to stop evading me?”

  The resulting transformation of Ruse’s physical attributes—the darkening of his skin to the shade of Lavisa’s, the brightening of his hair to a warmer brown, and the shift of his eyes to a shimmering bronze—didn’t alter his sister’s dry look.

  “I don’t remember you being this handsome.” His sister’s jab didn’t dent his cocky grin. “You’re being a bit generous, don’t you think?”

  “Is this…what you really look like?” Eliana asked.

  Lavisa rolled her eyes. “We had much darker hair as kids—and darker eyes. The rest is…close enough.” With a pause, she glanced between them again. “You two aren’t…”

  Eliana shook her head violently. Unfazed, Ruse drawled, “We’re going to JAMZ, sister. If Nero decides to continue with the team idea Avner started, you and I could partner up.”

  “What use would you be in combat? Can you shift into anything deadly?” Her brother opened his mouth, but she continued before he could speak. “Are the others coming?” Eliana nodded. “And Nero’s in charge?” Another nod. “And does he want us to be there?” She shook her head this time, and Lavisa’s dull eyes flashed at the implication. “Then let’s go.”

  The chilly basement of the Physicals Building had warmed substantially since all of Periculand’s students trickled in—all except the primaries.

  Nero’s other followers had been ecstatic to hear his plans to revamp JAMZ with his own violent edge. Nixie had even convinced the core group to wear dark gray bands of cloth around their foreheads, a tribute to the might of their leader. Calder found the hype a bit ridiculous. He did wear the gray cloth and he did stand on Nero’s right, like the intimidating groupie he was supposed to be, but his mind had been elsewhere the entire day.

  Even Nero announcing the JAMZ session this morning at breakfast hadn’t been able to regenerate a sense of normalcy in Calder’s gut. He could personally attest to the fact that students had been placed in Periculand’s jail before, but never had they kept students there for more than a few hours of punishment. Adara had been there two days now, and the principal was there with her. Never had anyone challenged Angor’s authority—and if he truly had a mind controlling Affinity, no one should have been able to.

  But the Reggs had.

  Calder had heard what Tray Stark mumbled at the funeral yesterday—his doubts that Periculy had a mind controlling Affinity at all. The principal had claimed his innocence as well, and the strangest part was that Adara Stromer believed him. Though he sincerely hoped the Fire Demoness never escaped that prison cell, part of him wished she were here, so he could at least hear why she believed Angor’s story—so he could determine how much of a threat these Regg ambassadors were.

  The two Reggs had no clue that most of the school was huddled in this basement, but the primaries did. As Nero quieted the crowd, his least favorites stalked into the room, invoking absolute silence.

  “Tray Stark,” he greeted, cordial but aggressive, as the twins and their group of primies marched up to the opposite side of the orange mats. An extra boy was among them, but even with his unfamiliar features, Calder recognized him as the shapeshifting prick, Ruse. Judging by the self-satisfied smirk on his lips, he’d informed the primies of this event; even without looking at his leader, Calder felt the agitation seeping from his pores.

  “Nero,” was Tray’s curt response. Wearing his school uniform, he was the only one of the group other than Lavisa not clothed in pajamas. As his brown eyes surveyed the crowd of upperclassmen, any who were loyal to Nero, including Calder, bared their teeth in feral grins. Those who had been Avner’s friends shifted with discomfort. “No invite for us tonight? Were you too scared to fight Lavisa again?”

  Nero snarled as his granite eyes settled on the yellow-haired girl. “I’ll gladly pummel her again, right after I explain tonight’s rules.”

  “Rules?” his stepbrother questioned with the raise of his orange eyebrows. “Didn’t realize you were so civilized now, big bro.”

  “Tough words for
such a small boy.” Nixie swirled water through her ringed fingers in a threat. “Why don’t you teleport over here and say that to his face?”

  It was impossible to tell if Hartman’s answering vibration was a result of his Affinity or his fear.

  “We won’t mind destroying you all, so please, stay.” With a gesture too gentle to suit him, Nero motioned for them to join the crowd. Obediently, the primaries and Ruse blended into the throng, where all oddly-colored eyes watched Nero step onto the mats. “It’s no secret that douchebag Stromer and his little friends ditched town to join the Wackos, so this isn’t JAMZ anymore; it’s Nero’s Dominion now.

  “The rules are simple—much simpler than the long list of don’ts Stromer always had us conform to. There will be no intentional murder. Accidental killing…” His lips slid into a devilish grin. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about that. As for maiming, no one’s allowed to hurt anyone beyond the point of Jason Pane’s repair. Since Dr. Pain can cure practically anything besides death… Who wants to fight first?”

  Calder almost wished the rest of the students would walk out in fear, but then Seth Stark strode onto the mats, and Calder decided he was the stupidest primie of them all.

  “I do.” His proclamation quenched the murmurs of trepidation. Based on his brown hair and blue eyes, this Stark twin hadn’t learned his Affinity, but his muscles filled out his t-shirt enough to indicate that his strength might last a few seconds longer against Nero than Lavisa’s Affinity had. “I challenge you, and I want to raise the stakes. If I win the fight, you have to break Adara out of prison—by punching the walls down with your fists.”

  Out of Nero’s minions, Nixie’s cackles rang the loudest. The only silent two were Nero, stone-faced and contemplative, and Calder, attempting to conceal his dread.

  “No!” Seth’s brother hissed, stomping onto the mats. “Adara needs to stay in prison!”

  Lavisa joined the twins with far less dramatics. “That’s what you’re worried about? Not that your brother’s about to be pulverized? How about”—she paused, twirling on her heel to face Nero—“we do teams? Primaries vs. Nero’s friends.”