Nerve

by Kirsten Krueger

  “Pixie Prince.” She swung her legs over the side of her metal slab to approach the bars. “Thank God you’re here.”

  Dark eyes appraising her, he allowed his lips to curl. “Have you been hoping to see me?”

  She splayed her arms out on either side of her. “I need you to hose me down.”

  “Is that some kind of sexual reference?”

  “No, I need a shower, you dimwit,” she snapped, mildly flustered.

  “Oh, now you need a shower?” A small ball of water formed before him, which he mockingly juggled between his hands. “Last time, if I recall, you refused.”

  “It’s been almost a month since I’ve bathed,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Calder shrugged, unfazed by her rising fury. “I’m sure they’ll let you shower before your trial. Although, you can never be sure with those Reggs.”

  “Yeah, but who knows when the hell that’ll be?”

  “Well, I don’t have a specific date yet, but I know it’ll be this week.”

  “This week?” Mitt repeated, stepping farther into the hallway. Angor stood from his perch, but Adara was paralyzed by this unexpected information. For weeks she’d awaited the trial, knowing she was innocent enough to be released, but the fact that Calder had come here to tell her about it—to warn her about it—made her question what the outcome would be.

  “The Reggs decided it’ll happen within the next few days,” Calder confirmed.

  “Finally.” Mitt ran a hand over his silver head. “I’m sick of being a babysitter.”

  “What makes you so sure we’ll both walk out of here?” Adara questioned.

  “Well, for one,” Calder began with a condescending tilt of his head, “convicted criminals go to real prison, so even if you’re both deemed guilty, you won’t return to this cell. Second, I know for a fact that you, Demoness, won’t find yourself behind physical bars again. Metaphorically, though, you’ll enter an inescapable dungeon.”

  Frowning, Adara crossed her arms. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means Nero has plans to ensure your freedom—at the expense of you becoming his slave.” His tone of resentment convinced her to believe him, but she still barked out a laugh, shaking her head.

  “You’re funny, Pixie Prince.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but I’m not joking. Nero’s got a whole plot in place in which Angor’s incriminated, the Rosses are jailed, you’re freed, and then he’s installed as Principal of Periculand. He’ll have all his allies on his side, guaranteeing his success.”

  “Including you?”

  The ball of water absorbed into his palm, leaving him motionless and contemplative. “I haven’t decided.”

  Adara narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t spew any profanities because she could see the layers of this predicament. Would the town be better off with Nero as its leader than these illusive Reggs? At least the big bully was honest about his malevolent motives.

  “I won’t sway you either way, Pixie Prince, but I will say I have no intention of being one of Nero’s allies, even if he does free me from this hellhole.”

  Calder’s mouth quirked upward. “I’m aware. But I’ll say your little boyfriend Stark struck a deal with Nero weeks ago: if your primie friends could beat Nero and his allies in a brawl, Nero would have to break you out of jail. If your friends lost, you would owe Nero a debt. You can imagine how it went.”

  Adara swallowed the rage creeping up her throat. “I will destroy Tray.”

  His gaze darted toward her torso. “It wasn’t Tray.”

  Air expelled from Adara’s lungs, cooling her as his words sunk in. When she lowered her arms, she found the heat building in her hands had thinned the fabric of her shirt, leaving it threadbare below her breasts.

  Calder jumped his eyebrows. “Too bad your hands weren’t a little higher, Stromer.”

  “Too bad you’re still Nero’s little lap-dog, Mardurus. I bet you laughed when my friends lost and you realized I’d be indebted to that boar.”

  His expression had soured, but he kept his inflection blithe. “Aloud, sure, I snickered. Internally, though…I don’t enjoy the idea of you incinerating this town under Nero’s command.”

  “He won’t have to command me to destroy anything,” she snarled, feeling a flame flicker on her finger. Ironically, the heat chilled her, but Calder had seen the brief flare, and his chagrin showed. To deflect from the near-outburst, Adara crossed her arms again and said, “Tell me about Seth.”

  This increased the wrinkle in his brow. “What do you want me to tell you?”

  “How he’s doing? If his super strength has surfaced yet? I haven’t seen him since the night he upchucked all over the floor.” She nodded toward the hall, and Calder glanced down at the tile, almost bored.

  “I don’t keep tabs on your boyfriend, Stromer. I have more important things to worry about, like the barbarian I work for and the mind controller he works for—and the fact that at least two Wackos have infiltrated this town. You might be relaxing in here, but out in the real world we have a heap of shit to deal with.”

  “Two Wackos?” she gasped with heightened theatrics. “Oh, please, Pixie Prince, tell me more. You’re the only person on this planet who has the ability to give me information. I’ll bow at your feet, oh Highness—”

  Engulfed in her dramatic display, Adara didn’t have time to react when Calder lifted his finger and shot a jet of water at her throat. The force of it provoked an involuntary gag, but what really peeved her was that the water now seeped down her neck, soaking her chest and making her shirt nearly transparent.

  Seething, she picked at the fabric clinging to her skin. Falling on Fraco Leve’s desk nude hadn’t been an issue, but something about the prospect of Calder seeing the curves of her body made her feel jittery—perhaps not in a bad way.

  “What the hell, dude—you made me wet!”

  “I tend to have that effect on females,” Calder drawled, waving his fingers in a way that caused the water droplets to creep back toward her throat and then evaporate completely. Adara hoped Mitt’s chortles distracted the Pixie Prince from the instinctive shudder that ran down her spine.

  While the officer coughed to cover up his amusement, the former principal paced closer to the bars, scrutinizing Calder with intrigue.

  “I’ve been curious…how do you manage to shoot water through these bars without electrocuting yourself?”

  “I’ve had more than a few painful encounters with Avner Stromer”—Calder shot a pointed glance in Adara’s direction—“so I taught myself how to purify the water I emit. Without any ions for electricity to travel between, the water isn’t a conductor—which means I’m free to soak the Demoness whenever I please.”

  “Fascinating,” Angor breathed despite Calder’s little quip at the end. Adara rolled her eyes when the Pixie Prince winked.

  “You’re not as clever as you think, your Highness,” she said. “I know you’re just trying to direct the conversation away from the Wackos. Are you really going to withhold that information from me forever?”

  “I was planning to, yes, but you’re not as clever as you think, underworldling.” His eyes slivered like two dark ravines. “It’s painfully obvious that you already know who the Wackos are.”

  “Fine, then let’s discuss the fact that Than is one of them. Opinions, everyone?”

  “Don’t you have your own?” Calder challenged, eyebrows arched.

  “Oh, I do, but it’s so underworldly that I don’t think your mortal ears can handle it.”

  “The news is astonishing to me,” Angor said before Calder could further the banter. “That Than could be working for such an organization… I was in my early twenties when we met, and he appeared, at least, to be in his late twenties. I always looked up to him—an inspiring, knowledgeable man. In fact, he took my side in a dispute I had with Ephraim, who went on to become the leader of the Wackos… The whole ordeal is so hazy in my mind now, though—skewed by who
ever’s blocked my memories.”

  “What did you do to provoke Floros to betray you and side with the Wackos?” Calder asked, eyeing the former principal with disdain.

  Angor let out a weary sigh. “The problem is that I don’t know. I could have done something truly ghastly, but if it was related to my Affinity, I have no knowledge of it. If I truly did something to offend Than, then I despise the man I was.”

  “Now that’s a notion we can all get behind,” Adara said. “Than might be almost three hundred years old, but he is an innocent lamb, and even I know that innocent lambs shouldn’t be maimed. The man’s never had sex. Three hundred years and he could never manage to get laid.”

  “How do you even know that?” Calder demanded through a laugh.

  “I made sure it was part of the history curriculum,” she informed him, at which he shook his head in awe. “Hey, speaking of sex, did you ever ask Aethelred to get creative with my mom?”

  “Your mom?”

  “That murdering bitch, Artemis.”

  “Oh, right…” He studied her with uncertainty, as if her appearance alone could confirm or deny whether Artemis truly was her mother. “Yes, I asked him, and as expected, he said no.”

  “Mm, you wouldn’t think I’d be disappointed to hear that some guy isn’t seducing my mother, but oddly enough, I am.” Calder raised his eyebrows in a way that implied he had predicted such insolence from her, but she plowed on before he could speak. “You know what’s also surprisingly disappointing? Unicorn Fairy’s a Wacko. It’s really not as satisfying as I’d hoped—nor is it very shocking. I mean, I might be the only human intelligent enough to have seen it coming, but it’s not really my fault the rest of you have subpar brains.”

  “Unicorn Fairy?” was the only part of her rant Calder seemed to have heard.

  Adara shrugged. “Couldn’t decide which one she reminded me of more, so now she’s both.”

  “Sounds far too docile for someone who’s a Wacko,” he commented dryly, “but…Colton doesn’t think she’s a Wacko. He says there’s nothing suspicious about her—that she has no bad intentions.”

  “Hm, well, we should definitely trust some freak that can see another world.”

  “Tray said a note was found, incriminating both Than and Ashna,” Angor said, disregarding Adara’s commentary. “Is it possible someone knew this note would be discovered—that, perhaps, someone planted it there as a decoy to distract us from what might really be going on?”

  “Don’t even say that,” Calder groaned, his pretense of composure finally crumbling as he sunk against the wall and buried his face in his hands. “There’s already enough I can’t figure out—don’t make it harder by suggesting all the clues we have are a hoax.”

  “All options should be considered,” Angor stated as he stroked his chin.

  “But the Pixie Prince doesn’t like that,” Adara mock whined. “In fact, he’s going to cry about it.”

  “I’m not crying,” Calder snapped, his face whipping upward to glower at her. His eyes, though not bloodshot, looked even more sunken than before, and for once, she wished she weren’t so heartless. “I’m thinking. I know you’ve never had to do it before, but—”

  “Lame insult, Pixie Prince. Try again.”

  “I’m not playing games. Not all of us can just sit around and stare at walls all day.”

  “Are you angry at me because I’m in jail? You’ve been on the other side of these bars; do you really wanna be here again? Do you want to feel trapped and neglected and useless?”

  From the doorway, Mitt cleared his throat. “This is probably a good time for me to do some…paperwork. Don’t tamper with the keypad, Mardurus,” he added, motioning to the electronic screen beside the door. Awkwardly nodding, the officer slipped out, leaving Adara to glare at Calder with the full heat of animosity.

  “I don’t know why he would think I’d try to break you out,” Calder mumbled, invoking a sense of dejection in Adara. If anyone she knew was rebellious enough to bust her out of jail, it was Calder. The fact that he wasn’t even considering it left her feeling unwanted—abandoned.

  “I’m not angry at you for being in jail,” he finally said, interrupting the bitterness stewing within her. “I’m angry at you for existing. You and your stupid friends… They haven’t proven to be very useful allies. If anything, I’m like their mother, ordering them around just to find they’re more preoccupied with their romantic relationships than our objective. You know your plant friend’s got a crush on Unicorn Fairy? He sleeps in the same room as the girl and refuses to do any type of spy work. I’m not accustomed to my allies being so incompetent. Nero’s posse might be a bunch of assholes, but at least they’re adept members of society.”

  His use of “Unicorn Fairy” softened her antagonistic resolve. Folding into a cross-legged sitting position on the floor, Adara met his gaze through the bars.

  “Are you telling me,” she began slowly, emphatically, “that my group of friends is collapsing without my leadership?”

  “That is not what I’m telling you at all,” he retorted, though her question had rekindled a hint of good humor in him. His lips twitched in the briefest of grins before he added, “They’ve always been incapable, with or without you. I will admit, though, that Ackerly would probably be less infatuated with Ashna if you were around.”

  “Are you implying Ackerly is infatuated with me?”

  “No, I’m implying you demand so much attention that he wouldn’t have time to be involved with anyone else.” Adara scoffed, at which he let out a laugh. “Don’t try to deny it, Stromer. It’s like, now that you’re gone, your friends have realized they can have a life outside of dealing with your chaos—and I know this’ll probably boost your ego, but…it’s awful.”

  Resting her elbow on her knee, Adara propped her chin on her fist and said, “Tell me more about the negative effects of my absence, Pixie Prince.”

  His face was caught between a wince and a chuckle. “Is it…turning you on or something?”

  “Would it matter if it was?” she countered with a knowing look at the bars separating them. Calder didn’t bother to acknowledge them; instead, his eyes cut toward Angor, now leaning on his metal slab, observing their conversation with creepy intensity. “Are you living vicariously through our youthful banter, or what, Majesty?”

  “I was, actually. It’s easy to forget the playful witticisms that teenagers are capable of. My relationship with…Miss Alberts has been much less frisky than…the romances of my youth,” Angor explained, his brow creasing as if he couldn’t quite remember the past. If his teenage years were characterized by his Affinity, then he probably couldn’t recall much of it. “Don’t mind me, though. Carry on.”

  “You want us to discuss the fact that I’m too attractive for Stromer to resist while you’re plainly watching?” Calder questioned.

  “Oh, you want to talk alone? I suppose I’ll take a nap, then. I wouldn’t advise trying to kiss her through the bars, though,” Angor warned whimsically. “It didn’t go well for the last boy who tried.”

  As the man closed his eyes to rest, Calder’s wry blue gaze fell on Adara questioningly. “Who did you intentionally electrocute by seducing them into kissing you? If you tell me it was Tray Stark, I might not be able to keep it a secret.”

  “It was Ackerly, actually. Wanted some kissing lessons for Ashna. I’d probably feel guiltier if he wasn’t enthralled with a freaking Wacko… How’d you know it was a trick?”

  He licked his lips, eyes glinting in the fluorescent lights. “Because you’re a demoness, not a princess. Plus, I don’t see why anyone would want to kiss you even if the bars weren’t electrified. You haven’t seen yourself in weeks, but you should be at least vaguely aware of how repulsive you are.”

  A thirst for vengeance should have roiled through her gut since he refused to cleanse her yet had the audacity to ridicule her, but instead of feeling the embers surge within, her natural reaction was to laugh. “I
think I’m rivaling Fraco for greasiness.” She held out her arm to survey the sheen of soot embedded in her pores.

  “You’ll need more than a little hose-down to remove the grime.” He leaned his head back against the wall and watched her through half-lidded eyes. “I’m not saying I’m unqualified to get the job done, but I will inform you that my skill is advanced enough that I can feel the water.”

  Adara rolled her eyes as she settled back onto her elbows. “I wasn’t aware we put Angor down for a nap in order for you to conduct a brag-fest—”

  “I don’t think you’re comprehending what I’m saying.” His tone was too low and soft to be an insult. “I can feel…as the water—I can feel what the water feels, if I want. And if it’s covering you…” Trailing off, he raked his vision over her body and then ended with his eyes trained on hers, eyebrows perked with the insinuation.

  Even though her stomach flipped, she didn’t dare flinch a muscle or acknowledge the blood that must have surfaced in her cheeks. “You say this as if I give a flaming shit.”

  His jaw dropped slightly, but then he blinked, lips spreading into a grin. “Do you shit fire, Demoness? I’m wondering for statistical purposes, obviously.”

  “And what kind of stats are you recording?”

  “I’m keeping track of how many times you unintentionally confess you have a fire Affinity. The tally is so high that I’ll need to consult my data before giving you an accurate number.”

  His inflection was casual, but his eyes probed her as if they could extract the truth she’d yet to accept. She’d spent weeks convincing herself it was a nightmare—that the flames had been a cruel illusion—but she’d burned all her clothes off, which was why she now wore prison garb, and then she’d burned the sides of this outfit as well, a constant reminder of her unwanted power. Not to mention she’d destroyed an entire floor and nearly murdered Angor in the process. Her Affinity had indeed manifested enough times for Calder to collect conclusive statistical data, but to admit it aloud…

  Inhaling deeply, Adara threw her head back, glimpsing the childish portrait of Calder on the ceiling before closing her eyes. “I know I have a fire Affinity, okay?”