Blood: An Affinities Novel (The Affinities Book 1)

by Kirsten Krueger

  “And he is stable now?”

  “No, but he was…worse, and he wanted to run this place—”

  “But you were already running it?” she concluded, crossing her arms as she tilted her head to the side. “So, all this time, I thought I’d have to take out Nero to gain control of this school, but it’s really you I need to take down?”

  “Dar, please, this isn’t some kind of hierarchy—”

  “You’ve been talking to Tray, haven’t you?”

  “No, no—just, listen,” he pleaded as he grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t ‘run this place.’ I was just one of the first here, so me and my friends know it best. We conduct some…clubs and stuff, and we like to help the younger kids out. We’re not bullies like Nero. You need to stay away from him, okay? He’s bad news. I’m already his enemy; you don’t need to be, too.”

  “I want to be his enemy. I want to see him—the bully—crash and burn. You stole my nemesis, and I’m going to steal him back,” she stated, coolly but unyieldingly. With the flick of her fingers, she brushed his hands off her shoulders.

  “Adara, c’mon…this isn’t some war—”

  “It is, and the battle’s just beginning,” she assured him before spinning on her heel to strut away.

  As she passed the bleachers, she wiggled her eyebrows at Nero but didn’t approach him like he’d been expecting. Instead, she strolled to the far edge of the mat where his group of allies showed off for the primaries. One kid was making a scene by spitting at the mats and burning them with his seemingly acidic saliva. Since everyone was so distracted, pulling Nero’s girlfriend aside was a discreet and simple job.

  “What the—oh, you,” the blue-haired girl said when Adara dragged her away from the group. “I see you’re dry and your nose is healed. I should have known you were a Stromer last night—clashing with Nero must be in your blood.”

  “I want you to deliver a message to your little boyfriend.”

  “I don’t get involved with Nero’s problems,” she stated as she held up her hand. With the snap of her fingers, a jet of water spouted upward; she caught it in her palm, where it soaked into her skin and disappeared entirely. “I’m his girlfriend, not his secretary. If you want someone who worships Nero, try Dave, the acid-spitter. He’s a real groveler when Nero’s around. My brother might deliver a message, too, if you want. He likes to think of himself as Nero’s right hand man.”

  Adara studied her for a moment before she asked, “What’s Nero’s weakness?”

  The girl snorted and shook her head. “He doesn’t have a weakness. His Affinity is strength. No one beats him; your brother only manages to stun him. If I were you, Stromer, I’d stay away from Nero until you discover your own Affinity. You won’t be any match for him regardless, but you’ll be obliterated if you try to challenge him as a normie.”

  “I’m not a normie—”

  “If you don’t know your Affinity, you are,” the girl countered before flicking a droplet of water onto Adara’s nose that instantly evaporated. As her eyebrows creased, she added, “I’m Nixie, by the way.”

  “Great. I’ll call you…Pixie Princess.”

  “Adara!” Hartman Corvis hissed as he appeared next to her. His orange eyes darted toward Nixie with apprehension before he whispered, “Why are you talking to Nero’s girlfriend?”

  “You’re his stepbrother, aren’t you?” Nixie questioned, smirking as she eyed the freckled boy. “He’ll be delighted to see you. He doesn’t stop talking about you.”

  Hartman opened his mouth and then paused before asking, “Good talk or bad talk?”

  “Do I have to answer that? He wants you dead.”

  “Yeah, I should have assumed that,” Hartman said with a grave nod. “Do you think he’s seen me yet?”

  “I think he’s glaring at you right now.” Her dark blue eyes drifted toward the bleachers, where Nero cracked his large knuckles before giving his younger stepbrother a threatening wave.

  “Oh no,” Hartman moaned as he cowered behind Adara. She tried shifting out of the way, but he followed her via teleportation every time. “I better run, but—uh—oh yeah, Ackerly wanted me to get you because he found someone with an ice Affinity and thought you would think it was cool.”

  “Really?” Adara blurted as she halted and scanned the room. “That could be useful… Where—”

  “Oh man,” the boy spewed as Nero began to descend the bleachers. Without another word, Hartman was gone, teleporting every five feet until he’d fled the gymnasium.

  Nixie snickered to herself as Adara marched away, determined to find Ackerly. If she could get someone to literally freeze Nero, she might be able to assert her dominance. Before she managed to spot her little green friend, however, her eyes caught a boy standing alone in the corner of the room.

  He reclined against the white wall while his dark eyes observed the scene. The earthy green cargo pants he wore appeared light in shade compared to the deepness of his navy-blue hair, which flowed on his head like a wave. Unlike Hastings’s shaggy hair, this boy’s was pulled back into a bun on top his head with only a few strands hanging loose. Also unlike Hastings, who showed no emotion, this boy had a clever smirk plastered on his lips—one that was mocking but mysterious. With the enigmatic demeanor of Hastings, this boy had to have had an equally intriguing Affinity, and that was why Adara decided to cease her search for Ackerly and stomp toward this boy instead.

  Once only a few paces from him, she opened her mouth to confront him; not one word was vocalized, however, before she was suddenly showered with a jet of harsh, cold water that invaded her mouth and eyes while soaking her entire exterior. Blinking and spitting repeatedly, she finally managed to clear her vision enough to see his expression of amusement and her mouth enough to spit a profane string of curses at him.

  With a derisive chuckle, he surveyed her dripping t-shirt and his blue eyes flashed. “I forgot these white shirts become transparent when they’re wet. What a pleasant surprise—”

  A fist to his gut put an end to his upbeat mood, forcing a noise like a coughing otter from his mouth as he doubled over. Adara retracted her hand and crossed her arms over her damp chest as he held up his hands in surrender.

  “You certainly don’t know how to take a joke,” he grunted, wincing as he twisted his torso. His teeth, mostly straight but not entirely perfect, were gritted as his eyes narrowed at her. “I’ve been waiting for anyone to come over here so I could soak them—it’s not just you.”

  It seemed believable, but no matter what his intentions were, Adara was still peeved. “I was going to ask you what your Affinity was. Now I know.”

  His lips curled deviously. “Now you know. Can you just…stand still?”

  “No,” she snapped, bristling.

  Without acknowledging her refusal, the boy waved his fingers, revoking the water that drenched her. In tiny particles, it withdrew back toward the boy’s open hands, forming a floating orb of water that rested in the air an inch above his palms. Adara had to swallow a gasp as she ran her dry hand through her dry hair. Casually, the boy began to sip out of the water orb suspended above his hand.

  “You’re drinking the water you just evaporated off my body?”

  “You’ve drank water from far worse places and didn’t even know it,” was his careless reply. While he continued slurping the water, he kept his deep blue eyes fixed on her—pensively and tantalizingly.

  “Water power,” she sneered, eyeing his orb with disgust. “Why is it that everyone has water powers?”

  “You have an Affinity for water, too?” he asked, almost hopefully.

  “No. That would be…lame.”

  “What is your Affinity then, Stromer?” He flashed a grin with the mention of her last name, and her gaze hardened.

  “I don’t answer your questions; you answer mine. How did you discover your Affinity and how are you so good at it?”

  “Practice,” he replied too blithely. “I’ve been using it my whole li
fe, basically.”

  “And you’re a primary?”

  “Secondary,” he countered with mild suspicion. “Why?”

  “Can you drown someone? Say…Nero?”

  A laugh escaped his throat as his eyes fluttered toward the massive boy who prowled around the room in search of Hartman. “Nero? You want me to murder Nero? That’s the most interesting request I’ve ever received. Are you and your brother teaming up?”

  “No.” The word was meant to sound stern, but it was really just pathetically defensive. “I’m not on a team with my brother. I just want to destroy Nero because I hate him.”

  “You hate him, primie? Didn’t you just get here?” He paused for a second, his eyes widening with realization. “You’re the girl he punched last night, aren’t you? Impulsive, feisty attitude, reddish hair, small brain—that was how he described you, by the way. I’m just confirming your traits.”

  “Yes, he punched me,” she said dryly, drowning out his derogatory remarks, “after he rudely declined my offer to be friends. Now I’m going to make him wish he hadn’t.”

  “I see Pane did a good job of healing your nose,” the boy observed, as if she hadn’t just uttered a bold declaration of revenge.

  “Who the hell is Pane?”

  “The nurse, Jason Pane?”

  “His name is Pane? Why did I not know that before? That is nickname gold—”

  “Yes—we call him Dr. Pain. Har, har,” he droned with an eye roll. “Did you think you were going to be original by calling him that?”

  Adara pursed her lips but refused to answer his jeering question. “What about Pixie Princess—has anyone ever called your sister that?” His face faltered momentarily, giving Adara the opportunity to steal his smug smirk. “I may be impulsive, but my brain isn’t as small as Nero thinks. You and Nixie look almost identical—if you were a girl, and with your long hair, you might be. Twins?” He fidgeted, avoiding her gaze. “If you’re her brother, that must make you Nero’s right-hand man, so I’m told,” she drawled, taking a step closer to him. His orb of water wavered in the air, but he remained completely still. “So, Pixie Prince, Water Boy, Nero’s Minion—whatever the hell you want to call yourself—you can tell Big Boy Nero that I don’t care if his Affinity is strength. I will destroy him until he can’t even lift his own finger—and it’s not because he’s my brother’s enemy. It’s because he’s my enemy, and my enemies always lose.”

  12

  Said and Unsaid

  “‘My enemies always lose’? That’s really what you said to him?”

  Seth jumped up to catch the soccer ball before it could soar into the net. Adara had been certain the aggressive shot would get past him, but per usual, Seth was too athletically inclined to beat. The only satisfaction she could glean from this game was that the afternoon air was actually hot enough to induce perspiration on Seth’s brow, while she remained unfazed by the heat.

  Of course, her immunity probably had something to do with the Affinity she was vehemently denying. Fire. She had to physically shake her head to stop herself from considering it. Since the welt she’d…burned on Ackerly’s arm earlier that afternoon, the possibility hadn’t left her awareness and had shifted into a plight. There was a reason the heat didn’t affect her, a reason people jolted away from her touch, and a reason her hair was turning red.

  But they weren’t dwelling on that dilemma—they were talking about the Pixie Prince and how Adara had become his enemy in less than ten minutes.

  “What, was that too dramatic?” she questioned as Seth chucked the ball back in her direction. It smacked her thigh, and she swore loudly enough to scare birds from the trees. At least here, on the secluded field beyond the Naturals Building, where their only company was Periculand’s northeastern woods, Tray wasn’t present to ridicule her soccer skills—nor was the Pixie Prince here to mock her for failing to live up to her claims of perpetually winning.

  “Yeah, and it’s also false,” Seth reasoned, shifting his weight between his feet as he awaited another shot. “I mean, Kiki’s your enemy and she always won. You don’t really stand a chance against Nero—” With blunt force, the ball slammed Seth in the gut, and he gagged.

  “I’m doing a fine job of competing with you, and you have super strength,” she bluffed, raising her eyebrows challengingly as he caught his breath.

  “You’re only beating me because I’m garbage at soccer,” he insisted as he threw the ball back at her. She retrieved it clumsily, struggling to wrangle it between her black Converse. “And Nero’s been practicing his strength power a lot longer than I have. Maybe you have super strength—damn, that hit hard.”

  She laughed, though the concept of having that much power actually intrigued her. Super strength was definitely a better alternative to the reality of her…affliction. “I do not have a strength Affinity. Strength is the most clichéd power anyone could ever get. I’d rather have no power at all.”

  “Not gonna add ‘no offense’ to that statement?”

  “I think by now you know I don’t care if I offend you,” she said before striking the ball toward the goal. He caught it with ease, and she growled. “Nero is the lamest piece of shit for having a strength power. Fraco’s power’s better—at least he never has to buy hair gel.”

  “True,” Seth noted as he tossed the ball at her, “but Nero could probably crush you with his strength. Maybe you should just…lay low. You and Kiki are so obsessed with gaining popularity…”

  “Do not compare me to Kiki,” she warned before punting the ball directly at his face. He threw up his hands to shield himself and then cursed when the ball struck his palms. “And since when do you not care about your social status?”

  “Since we got here,” he said as he rubbed his forearms. “If I’m cool, people will just know, and if I’m not…well, at least I’ve still got you.”

  This time, she purposely hit the ball at the goal post and then reveled in his lighthearted laughter. “So,” she prompted when he returned the ball to her, “you’re on my side against Nero? That’ll be a first. Usually you’re on the bully’s side.”

  “Oh c’mon, Adara. That was different. I always felt bad for you when the other kids would make fun of you, and I never joined—”

  “It’s fine,” she interjected as she sent a haphazard shot at the goal. It rolled in languidly. “I never needed you to defend me and I still don’t. It would be nice, though, if you were on my side against Nero, and it’d be nice if you’d stop telling me I shouldn’t try to start a war with him, because I already have. He doesn’t seem to care as much as I’d like, but I will vanquish him.”

  “Whatever you say.” Seth gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll back you up no matter what. We should try to get Kiki on board, though. She wants the same—”

  “She does not want what I want. She wants to be what Nero is—or be part of his clique, at least.”

  After retrieving the ball, Seth stepped a few feet past the goal line and met her eyes through the haze of heat. His blue gaze was clearer than the cloudless sky, but there was something contemplative in it that Adara couldn’t quite comprehend—something too thoughtful for Seth’s normal insouciance. “What do you want, exactly?”

  “To kill cliques and defeat a bully.” The answer was simple, but she still felt a little idiotic when it rolled off her tongue.

  “Don’t you have…other things to worry about?” he offered uneasily as he switched the ball back and forth between his hands. “Like finding out what your Affinity is, maybe?”

  “That’ll come,” she dismissed. She hoped it wouldn’t. “Now, give me the ball. I need to kick something.”

  The sun dipped beneath the trees of Periculand’s northwestern forest, casting rays of pinks, oranges, and yellows upon Eliana’s sketchpad. She was nestled at a table in the back corner of the library, but with the two-story wall of glass at her side, she felt as if she were outside—or she would have, if not for all the minds floating about the room, di
squieting her own.

  Located on the ground floor of the Mentals Building, the library was as large as the gymnasium, only stuffed with towering rows of white bookshelves rather than orange mats and bleachers. Black tables, where students studied and whispered, bordered the walls. It wasn’t the physical noise that disturbed Eliana but the mental cacophony barraging her brain. The emotions of the other students pressed on her, even from a distance, as she tried to focus solely on the beauty of the sunset while gently stroking her pencil across the paper before her. Her attention was so honed that she did not sense when someone slipped into the seat across from hers.

  He was as silent as she, and it took almost a full minute for her to become aware of his presence. When she did, she jumped and flung her pencil; it hit one of the bookshelves to her left, and Hastings reached down to retrieve it.

  “Ah, um—sorry,” she stammered as he placed it in her hand. “And…thanks.”

  His face remained neutral as his eyes fell onto her paper. They were so intense and intricate, the irises like clots of blood, that she found herself staring too intently at them and then, consequently, blushing. “What are you drawing?”

  “Oh, um—” Clumsily, she pivoted the page toward him. “This is my old bedroom. It’s where I spent most of my time before…yesterday.”

  “Looks nice,” he commented, studying the depiction with genuine interest. “Do you miss it?”

  “Oh—well, it’s only been a day.” Saying it aloud brought her clarity. It had only been a day—less than twenty-four hours, in fact—since she’d met the boy seated across from her. Fawning over the details of his eyes, his expressionless face, the gravity of his mind—it was foolish. Considering her own inanity increased her awkwardness as she fumbled to retrieve her embarrassing drawing.

  “Only a day,” Hastings repeated, dwelling on the phrase as if he couldn’t quite believe it, either.

  “Yeah, but it’s been a good day—mostly. It’s hard to be…optimistic when you know how everyone’s truly feeling all the time. That’s why I spent most of my time in my room, alone.”