The front door banged open again, halting the girl mid-sentence. Although they’d expected the Reggs, Mitt’s eyes widened at the sight, probably remembering that Tray was here when he shouldn’t have been—and that there was a basket of booze in the middle of the corridor. Suppressing a chuckle was nearly impossible for Adara.
“Stark, take the basket to the bathro—”
Mitt’s attempts at concealment were futile, though, for the Reggs had already stomped into the hall—with Big Boy and the Pixie Prince at their backs.
“Oh no,” Tray moaned as soon as Nero’s burly body filled the doorway.
A reptilian grin cracked over the brute’s face at the sight of his small rival. “Tray Stark. Breaking school rules? Should I punish him?”
“Not now,” Artemis snapped, her focus trained on the three apprehended girls.
Her husband scanned the entire hall until he noticed the incriminating basket. “Has Mr. Stark been drinking alcohol in here?” Sniffing the air around Mitt, his ire increased. “Have you been drinking alcohol in here?”
“I—well, that’s…irrelevant…”
“Enough, William,” Artemis warned. “We need to determine the purpose of these Wackos.”
Throwing her head back, the tall girl groaned. “We aren’t Wackos; we were prisoners of the Wackos. We managed to escape and come here, seeking refuge. Isn’t this the Affinity town?”
“It is,” Adara confirmed, finally drawing the new arrivals’ attention toward her, “but now these Reggs are in charge, so you can imagine that isn’t going well for us. Nice leash, by the way, Pixie Prince. Servitude really suits you.”
Calder’s eyes flashed with the most intense spurt of rage she’d ever seen from him; the expression was so venomous that her lips actually drooped. But, as quickly as it had come, the anger subsided, replaced by a look that could only mean, “Keep your mouth shut.” Naturally, she didn’t heed his silent command.
“I’m caught in a dilemma here, Artie, Willy.” Adara folded her hands in a diplomatic manner. “I have information that could incriminate these three, but I’m not sure I like you enough to share it. Maybe if you did something nice for me, like…oh, I dunno, bring me donuts, set me free—then we can chat.”
The Reggs’ lips curled, but Mitt spoke before either of them had to bargain. “That one is a Wacko.” He pointed to the monster, apparently named Cath, and her mouth gaped at the accusation. “Broke into town last month to try to kidnap Hastings.”
“Mitt.” Adara smacked her forehead and dragged her nails down her face. “I thought you wanted me to leave, you absolute asshole!”
“Absolutely attractive asshole,” Mitt’s fan-girl corrected as she batted her eyelashes at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, fidgeting. “You’re, like, fifteen.”
“Sixteen, actually.”
“Wait.” Nero stepped forward, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one who threw me into that door?” When Cath nodded, his face contorted in revulsion. “You’re a girl? I was—No…”
“Yes, yes, Big Boy, you were beaten by a girl,” Adara droned. “There’s a mop over there for your tears.”
“Why is there a mop?” William asked, blinking between the cleaning instrument and the unusually pale officer.
“I—well…”
“Whoa!” a slurred voice exclaimed as Seth came tumbling out of the bathroom. Ackerly was right behind him, his face as green as his hair. “There is a lot of puke in there, my friends. Where is that mop… Oh—hey! More people! Holy balls, this is a certified party up in here, ha, ha—”
“Holy balls? You say holy balls, too?”
Adara watched Seth’s disoriented vision focus on the girl in the cell, her rose gold eyes protruding with glee. “Well, yeah, whenever I’m really excited…or drunk. Heh.”
“Seems we suspected the wrong Mr. Stark,” William noted dryly.
“Can I beat this one up instead?” Nero cracked his knuckles, his violent instincts nullifying his previous despair.
“Not now,” Artemis repeated, agitated. “We still don’t have the information we—”
“Yo, why is your face bleeding?” Seth shouted as he staggered to the girls’ cell and examined the slice on the peachy-haired girl’s cheek.
“Got attacked by Danny’s dog while escaping. I survived, obviously, but that thing is a little devil, let me tell you.”
“Who’s Danny?” Seth questioned between prolonged blinks.
“Daniel Mayer has a dog?” Angor asked, approaching the bars. He was near enough to Adara that she smelled his stale odor, but her disgust didn’t faze him in his state of curiosity. “I wasn’t aware that he had the capacity to care for animals.”
“Damn, Majesty, your ability to candidly insult is really improving,” Adara remarked with a nod of approval. “We all knew your time with me would be beneficial.”
“Who is Danny?” Seth demanded with a bit more lucidity.
“We are wasting time,” Artemis said, still probing the trio of girls with her eyes. “Tell us your mission and we will discuss the possibility of releasing you in exchange for—”
“Negotiating with terrorists?” Tray questioned. “Why would we return these girls to the Wackos if they’re skilled enough to be sent here? We need to deplete the Wackos’ num—”
“This is not a decision that involves you,” William interrupted coldly. “You boys have no business here. Nero, Calder, escort them back to campus.”
“I thought you needed me here for torture purposes?” Nero griped as Tray helped his brother hobble through the corridor.
Ackerly followed, but dazed by nausea, he didn’t realize the floor was wet from the mop; with a little yelp, he slipped and plummeted forward, his left wrist colliding with the tiled floor. The crack of his bones invoked a dramatic gag from weak-stomached Tray.
“Sweet sunflowers!” Ackerly cursed as he cradled his arm.
“There you go again with that garden mouth, Greenie,” Adara sighed, shaking her head. “This broken wrist is karma for your vulgarity.”
“I’ll take him to the nurse,” Calder assured the Rosses as he roughly hoisted Ackerly to his feet. Adara almost snarled at the Pixie Prince to be gentle. Her poor Greenie’s eyebrows weren’t wrinkled with pain, though, but with puzzlement.
“It…doesn’t hurt, actually.” Ackerly tested his swelling wrist, but even as he stretched and flicked it, he didn’t wince. “The pain…disappeared somehow…” Glancing around frantically for an explanation, his eyes landed on the girl in the cell—the smallest one with the hat.
Adara hadn’t given her a thought before, but now that Ackerly examined her with such intent, she noticed her eyes, bulging and petrified, were shimmering rainbows. The pastel colors might have been remarkable if her chained hands weren’t open and aimed in Ackerly’s direction, as if she’d magically removed his pain. The realization dawned in his eyes the moment it solidified in Adara’s mind, but the girl’s head twitched in response, signaling him not to mention it.
His staring had piqued William’s interest, though. “You—what is your Affinity?”
“I…um…can reduce pain,” she admitted, eyes sheepishly sweeping the room.
“Through inhibiting nociceptors?” Angor tapped a finger to his lower lip.
The girl froze under his inspection, so Adara asked, “What the hell is a nociceptor?”
“A sensory receptor that detects painful stimuli and relays the information to the brain,” Tray explained, as if it were common knowledge. Adara was still perplexed.
“She can control pain nerves,” Ackerly supplied. “So, even though my wrist is broken and should hurt, the signal’s blocked and I don’t feel it.”
“Thank you, Greenie,” Adara said, even though her smile was directed at Tray.
“Can you provoke pain, as well?” Angor asked with an experimenter’s inquisitiveness.
Though she seemed fearful of him, the girl, who Adara remembered being r
eferred to as Ashna, stammered, “I—don’t know. I’ve never tried…”
“Like hell you’ve never tried!” Nero barked, causing the small girl to jump in surprise. “You’re a freaking Wacko.”
“We aren’t Wackos!” the peachy-haired girl shouted as she banged the side of her head against the wall. “How can we make you believe us?”
“Would your mind reader be interested in paying them a visit?” William asked Nero.
“He’s a fickle bastard, but I’ll convince him.”
“Ira—er, Officer Wright said that she didn’t sense any danger from these girls,” Mitt informed the Reggs quietly. “She claimed they don’t seem as hostile as last time.”
“And why isn’t Ira here now?” Angor questioned. “We trust her judgment; she has always been useful in interrogations. Do you fear she will detect that I’m not a threat and expose my incarceration as a sham?”
The Reggs both frowned at his accusation, but neither voiced their dissent before another spoke.
“We aren’t with the Wackos,” Ashna said, her small voice permeating the room. “They used us and abused us and tortured us.” Lifting her chin, she exposed the bruised, raw ring that encircled her throat, as if a collar had resided there. “They forced Cath to accompany them in September because they needed her strength. Her own life would have been forfeit if she refused.”
“If you’re not willing to die before aiding the Wackos, you’re void of nobility,” Artemis said without remorse. “By complying with them, you are essentially part of their group.”
“That’s easy to say before you’ve been placed in such a situation,” Ashna retorted with calm vehemence. “You’ve never met the Wacko leader. He blew up a building when Naira refused to kill a—”
“Naira,” Calder interrupted, his quizzical gaze settling on the peachy-haired girl. “Naira Steele? I didn’t recognize you with the light hair… We stopped at your townhouse to pick you up when they brought me here, but you weren’t home.”
“Calder…Mardurus?” Her face brightened with recognition. Adara told herself it was the girl’s disgusting amount of enthusiasm that made her gut twist. “I went to middle school with this kid!”
Coldness enveloped Calder’s face. “Fraco said you weren’t at your house that day because you’d gone to join the Wackos.”
“I did join the Wackos,” Naira confirmed, shuffling uneasily. “Someone told me about them—told me they were called Affinities for Freedom, and I thought they were just a bunch of activists. When I joined them, though…I realized how bad they were—how corrupt. When I tried to leave, they locked me in a cell.”
Adara rolled her eyes. “Likely story. Let’s just accept they’re Wackos and agree to leave them here. They must have Wacko secrets, and I’m sure I can make them talk.”
“With your annoyingness?” Tray scoffed.
Calder’s lips quirked to one side. “Or your fire Affinity?”
Adara wasn’t sure which boy’s response irked her more, but no outburst ensued before Ashna said, “We do have some information about the Wackos that we’re willing to divulge. If I can see a map, I’ll show you the hideout where we were imprisoned. And…I think I know where Wacko Headquarters is.”
Artemis’s dark eyes illuminated with the prospect. “This could be what the president has been hoping for… Officer Telum, release these girls. Fraco should be here momentarily, and he’ll escort them to the Residence Tower. Tomorrow morning, the three of you will come to our office to discuss what you know. Nero, Calder, bring these primaries back to the tower. Punishments will be distributed in the morning. Bring that basket, as well…”
With that, the Rosses shot Angor matching scowls and then stalked out of the police station. Adara was almost offended that she hadn’t received a glare of contempt from the two pricks.
“Er—I should go to the nurse,” Ackerly reminded Calder when the Pixie Prince aggressively gripped his arm again. “My wrist doesn’t hurt, but…”
“I can take him,” Ashna piped up as Mitt guided the girls out of their cell. “I…don’t know where to go, but I can ward off the pain until we get there.”
“Y-yeah.” Ackerly cleared his throat. “Uh—that’d be great.”
“I should be the one bringing Greenie to the nurse!” Adara fumed as Mitt uncuffed them, the clang of their unclasped chains nearly drowning out her complaints. “I can’t believe you’re releasing three Wackos, but I’m still stuck in here!”
“I thought you were enjoying your time in prison, Stromer?” Calder crooned, jumping his eyebrows.
“How would you know if she was?” Nero growled, draining the color from the Pixie Prince’s face.
“Let’s go,” he prompted instead of answering. Scrunching his nose, he grabbed Seth’s arm and dragged the inebriated teen, who still looked like he was waiting for the answer to his question about Danny.
Suspicious, Nero stalked to the bars of Adara’s cell and met her fiery eyes with his stony ones. “If I find out you’re wooing my best ally with your fire magic, we’re gonna have a problem, Little Stromer.”
“I don’t have any fire magic, so I don’t think we will,” she responded complacently.
“Let’s hope not.” His eyes darted cagily in Angor’s direction before he clenched Tray’s arm and hauled him from the hall.
“Mitt,” Adara beseeched once only the three girls and Ackerly remained. “You have to let me out, man. You know this is screwed up.”
“Innocent until proven guilty, Stromer. That’s the law,” Mitt said, but his grimace was apologetic as he guided the others through the doorway.
“Greenie, wait,” Adara hissed before he and Ashna could pass through the threshold. “Secret meeting, now.”
Exhaling, he trudged back to her cell, his wrist still supported by his other arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t trust these girls,” she said through her teeth. “They must be Wackos.”
“I dunno, Adara… Their stories are convincing. What if they are telling the truth? We need to give them a chance.”
Her lips curled as she glanced knowingly at the girl with the knit hat, who waited in the doorway. “Pretty girls can tell lies. I know from personal experience.”
Heat rose to Ackerly’s cheeks as he checked to see if Ashna had heard. “Who—um, do you know that’s pretty and lies?”
“I was referring to myself, Greenie,” she said flatly, but her moodiness mollified when Ashna removed her hat to shake out her long, iridescent locks of rainbow hair. “What the… What are you? A magical unicorn fairy?”
Ashna blinked, shocked at being addressed.
“She means that in the nicest way possible,” Ackerly said hastily.
“No, that was one hundred percent insult. Unicorns are so happy and optimistic—it’s revolting.”
Ackerly actually had the nerve to give her a reprimanding glare. “We’ll try to find a way to come visit you again,” was his unsympathetic reply. He then joined Ashna in the doorway, leaving Adara alone with Angor once more.
She hadn’t realized how full she felt in the presence of those people—even her enemies—until the emptiness of the corridor left a void in her core.
“This is why I’m a cynic, Periculy,” she sighed, her voice more aloof than her heart felt. “People always find a way to let you down.”
17
Tattoos
It had to have been weeks since the Wacko leader, Danny, removed Maddy from her cell and placed her in one of Wacko Headquarters’ dorm rooms—which had become a prison itself. Less torturous, yes, but a guard stood outside the door at all times, and like before, she was brought food rather than permitted access to the cafeteria. Unlike before, it wasn’t the mysterious silhouette, carving time out of his day to feed her, but one of the apathetic guards, shoving food into her room without a word of acknowledgement.
Though many would have gone mad, it wasn’t the worst possible scenario for Maddy. Compared to Zeela, Avner, and J
amad, she’d always been somewhat of a loner, content to dwell in solitude. Someone had deposited books in the room for her, which she quite enjoyed, and now that those nasty manacles didn’t confine her, she was free to stretch and practice her Affinity. That was why, when a raucous commotion sparked in the hallway outside her room, she was mildly annoyed.
She was rereading a fiction novel when voices sounded beyond her door, too muffled by the thick metal for her to distinguish. A body then thudded against that metal and shouts filled the corridor, seeping through the plain gray walls. After placing her book on the nightstand, she padded barefoot from her bed to the door and peeked into the hall.
The girl with the bumblebee-yellow hair who had stood watch now lay limp on the floor, her nose oozing blood. Her assailants had fled, likely through the open elevator shaft at the far end of the hall, from which banging reverberated.
It couldn’t have been Zeela and the guys, could it? Surely they wouldn’t have knocked out this Wacko and then fled without checking the room for her…unless they thought she was down in the cells.
There was no time to ponder these concerns before the second elevator on the opposite end of the corridor slid open, revealing a man in a dark, preppy sweater. She’d never seen his austere facial structure or ash-colored eyes, but his lengthy stature and familiar gait marked him as the mysterious silhouette who had fed her in the dark for a month: Zach, Danny’s brother.
Realizing how incriminating this scene looked, Maddy rapidly opened her mouth to defend her innocence, but he spoke first.
“Come, now.”
“I—I didn’t do it, I swear!”
“Come now,” he repeated, those light gray eyes glancing back toward the open elevator with apprehension.
“But…I—”
“Have you showered today?” he asked, taking a careful step closer.
“I—what? Yes?”
With a wrinkle of his nose, Zach grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the elevator he’d come from, his grip so loose that he probably wanted her to wiggle free. She let him guide her along, almost disappointed when the elevator doors sealed them in and he hastily dropped her.
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