Blood: An Affinities Novel (The Affinities Book 1)

by Kirsten Krueger

  “Water power,” the female Wacko muttered as she shook some of the water off her leather sleeve. The male wiped off his clothes irritably, but as Calder watched in astonishment, the female’s body seemed to absorb the water, drying her skin and hair.

  “Water power?” Calder repeated, wondering if she had the same Affinity. Before she could respond, though, Adara had popped out of the stairwell with sadistically-glowing eyes.

  “Once I beat these two punks up, you’re next for ripping my sweatshirt,” she sneered at Calder, whose arms were still held up, exposing the tears he’d created. He gave her a sarcastically-apologetic grin.

  Clenching her fists, she honed her attention in on the male Wacko, who still attempted to remove the water from his clothes. With slivered eyes, Adara lunged at him; she only managed to take three steps, however, before she just…collapsed. Her body, which had been tense with anticipation, now fell limp on the floor as her mouth drooped open and her eyes fluttered shut.

  The male Wacko eyed her indolently. “I’ve seen my fair share of ugly sleepers, but this girl has got to be one of the worst.”

  “What the hell was she planning on doing?” Nero questioned, rubbing his thick shoulders as he stood. The monster lingered beside him, its masked face still surrounded by Calder’s orb as it attempted desperately to push the water away.

  “Kick him in the groin, probably,” Calder said, both of his hands still held up, one in offense and one in defense. “It must be her Affinity, considering she can’t do much else.”

  “Stop your weird water thing and we won’t knock you out like we knocked out your friend,” the female reasoned in a rough voice.

  “I knocked her out, actually,” the male said impatiently. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stopped taking credit for my work.”

  The female rolled her pinkish eyes before looking to Calder. He let out a vindictive laugh before dropping his right hand, causing the orb to cascade like a waterfall on the monster, who sucked in a gurgling breath.

  “She,” Calder began, jerking his chin toward Adara, “is not our friend.”

  Taking this as a sign of peace, the female momentarily relaxed her shoulders. As soon as Calder’s still-raised left hand started to squirt water, though, the Wacko was alert, both of her hands flying up to combat his harsh wave of water with what seemed to be a thick ribbon of pebble-sized crystals of salt.

  The salt and water collided violently, some of the molecules brushing past each other while others dissolved or absorbed each other. A few crystals slashed Calder’s face, forming cuts and bruises on his skin, while some of his water managed to drench the Wacko again, causing her mental irritation but no physical damage.

  “Damn—she’s more deadly than you,” Nero said, walking up beside Calder once they had both lowered their arms. Calder swore as he brought his hand up to his face and found his fingers now covered in his own blood.

  Nero, not maliciously but curiously, picked up a stray crystal of salt and pelted it at the female’s face. She held up her arm to deflect it, but instead of bouncing off her hand, the salt pebble stuck to her palm before sinking into her skin.

  Judging by the way Nero’s eyebrows arched, he was impressed. “Maybe you should be my new second in command—”

  This suggestion miffed Calder to the point that he threw both hands back into the air and attacked the female Wacko with a current of water powerful enough to hurl her into the door of room 302. Her head banged hard against the metal, and as her eyes rolled back, her body fell to the ground as lifelessly as Adara’s had just a few moments ago.

  With his jaw set and his body visibly shaking, Calder’s head pivoted toward Nero. “Who’s your second in command?”

  Nero opened his mouth, but no words emerged from it before a guttural yell sounded from behind him. Enraged, the monster charged again, stampeding through both Nero and Calder and knocking them to the ground with ease.

  “Leave them,” the male Wacko ordered as Calder groaned and Nero struggled to get himself up. “Let’s go—now. He’s not here.”

  “Naretha—” the monster began in a voice that was low but not completely masculine.

  “No time,” the male said carelessly before he began to skip down the stairs, hardly sparing a glance at the female Wacko who still lay unconscious by the door to Seth and Hastings’s room. “Let’s go.”

  Submissively, the monster followed behind its new leader, barely squeezing through the narrow railing of the spiral staircase.

  “That…thing cannot be human,” Nero grunted, staggering to his feet as they disappeared from sight.

  Calder gently patted the back of his head where his bun rested as he sat up. “Yeah,” was all he managed to say as he surveyed the scene. Adara snored audibly while the female Wacko, with the exception of the slight rise and fall of her chest, appeared dead. “You know we’re gonna get shit for this, don’t you?”

  Nero’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve got two girls here, knocked out by force, and our only witnesses just fled the scene. Periculy’s gonna be pissed.”

  Instinctively, Nero kicked the metal railing of the spiral staircase, denting it without effort. “Freakin’ Wackos… Blame Stromer?”

  Casting a glance at Adara, Calder nodded once. “Blame Stromer.”

  “No.”

  Eliana’s voice carried through the basement of the Physicals Building, but it only intensified the chaos rather than thwarting it. Hastings stood before Dave, his eyes burning red as he prepared to unleash his Affinity on the boy who had attacked Eliana with acid. Avner shoved through the crowd to intervene while everyone else was motionless, petrified—until the doors burst open, as if Eliana’s cry had commanded it to.

  A low, rumbling roar cut through the near silence, overpowering her voice and halting even Hastings, who had seemingly blocked out all noise. He spun around, his eyes still glowing, and Eliana followed his vision. Through the legs of the spectators, she saw two people prowling into the basement, both clothed in black, their faces concealed with ski masks.

  Although their faces were hidden, the never-ending yell was clearly coming from the larger figure, who charged at the crowd of students at a pace much too fast for his or her size. The second figure, a tall, thin male, sauntered in leisurely, eyeing specific students as he approached. Each student he looked at suddenly collapsed to the ground with unexplainable unconsciousness. His mind was undeniably a weapon; Eliana felt its presence, thrumming threateningly. Even though she still lay on the mats, so far removed that he probably hadn’t noticed her, her brain seemed too close to his.

  By the time the two intruders reached the mass of students, the monster only had to plow through a thin layer, since the other infiltrator had mentally caused at least fifteen students to faint. Any who remained conscious quickly parted to make way for the oversized human being.

  Blocking out the pain of the acid burns, Eliana rolled to the side to avoid being flattened. Before the monster had even taken a step onto the orange mats, however, Avner had launched into action, extending his right hand toward the raging creature. A bolt of electricity flew out of his fingers, singeing the beast’s sleeve but failing to damage its skin.

  With another bellowing growl, the monster was about to charge through Avner until Maddy swooped in out of nowhere, throwing her elongating arm so it wrapped around the monster’s thick neck. She clasped her hands together, but the monster was too strong for her to drag down; her efforts only stretched her arm until she cried out from the strain and wilted to the ground.

  “They’re Wackos, Avner!” Zeela called out from where she stood to the side, only a few paces from Eliana. Her eyes slid over every inch of the scene, absorbing what others could not.

  “Figured that much,” he grunted as he tried to electrocute the monster with more force. The shock wouldn’t penetrate its skin, though, and it continued to dart at Avner as he hastily backed away. Jamad shot icicles at the beast now,
but instead of stabbing it, the ice only broke apart and sprinkled the ground like hail.

  “Mind reader,” the male Wacko drawled as he stepped onto the mats, randomly knocking out various students with mere glances in their direction. His eyes were on Zeela now, though he didn’t force her to pass out so quickly. Eliana could sense his intrigue—and she also sensed that, if she made one wrong move, she would become as unaware as the other students he’d looked at.

  “No, I just have enhanced vision,” Zeela said coolly. “I can see your Wacko tattoos beneath your clothes—that is your trademark, isn’t it? Nice mohawk, by the way; it’s looking a little deflated with that mask, though.”

  The male Wacko touched the top of his head self-consciously where there was a slight bump in his ski mask from his matted-down hair. His eyes narrowed at her, and Eliana knew he was about to break her consciousness in a way she couldn’t combat; before he could, however, he was abruptly blasted with a wave of water. Spitting and enraged, he pivoted his head to the side.

  Ambling onto the mats, Nixie juggled an orb of water, flanked by Dave and boulder-boy. “What are you doing here, Wacko?” she demanded.

  Beyond her, the monster still battled with Avner, Jamad, and Maddy, but Eliana’s view of them had been obstructed by a hand. Hesitantly glancing up, she found that Hastings loomed above her, offering to help her to her feet.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, unable to conjure a smile. He mistook her distant demeanor for fear—fear of what he’d been about to unleash on Dave—but she didn’t have the opportunity to refute it before the male Wacko was talking again.

  “Well, I was fighting your brother a few moments ago,” he droned, provoking Nixie’s face to twitch along with her water orb, “but we came down here not to fight but to take someone. Give him to us, and we’ll leave peacefully.”

  “If it’s Avner Stromer, we’ll gladly allow you to take him,” Nixie responded diplomatically, and Zeela’s white eyes slivered. Eliana’s head was reeling, because she knew exactly who this guy was referring to.

  “Avner Stromer interests me, in more than one way, but our leader requires another: Hastings Lanio.”

  The Wacko spun toward Hastings, who currently examined Eliana’s acid wounds. When the leather-clad man made eye contact with her, she tensed but didn’t collapse.

  “Mm. I don’t know that I want to be on the opposing side of the Wackos if they possess Hastings,” Nixie pondered as her water orb fell into her palm and disappeared from existence. “I’m assuming my brother, if you truly met him, felt the same way.”

  The Wacko’s black and blue eyes flashed mischievously. “Your brother was quite opposed to the idea, actually…”

  “What are the chances he’ll knock me out if I attack him right now?” Lavisa whispered to Eliana as she materialized at her side, drawing her away from the conversation between the Wacko and Nixie. There was a protective air about Lavisa, with her body positioned slightly in front of Eliana’s, while Hartman vibrated nervously on her other side.

  “He’ll know you’re coming,” she replied quietly. “He…I think he can sense when other minds are near—like I can.”

  Lavisa hummed pensively, hearing her advice but not necessarily allowing it to determine her next course of action. “If he looks like he’s going to knock me out, is there anything you can do to stop him?” she asked Hastings, whose calm demeanor had returned. The passion had left his eyes, and when he glanced at Lavisa, his expression was mostly blank.

  “There is, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it.”

  Lavisa frowned. “I’m trying to save you here. If you didn’t hear the Wacko, they’ve come to kidnap you.”

  His voice was as toneless and self-sacrificing as ever. “Perhaps it’s better if I’m in captivity.”

  “Not in the Wackos’ captivity,” Hartman said. “The Wackos have mind controllers in their ranks! They don’t want you because they want to neutralize you—they want you so they can use you.”

  “Use you against us,” Eliana added softly, her face still twisted in a grimace as the pain of Dave’s acid lingered in her mind. The male Wacko was almost done talking to Nixie, and even though Avner, Jamad, and Maddy had nearly taken down the monster, Eliana had a feeling this man could make everyone in the room pass out in a matter of moments if he really wanted to. With pleading eyes, she gazed up at Hastings, imploring him to use whatever Affinity he had against evil—against the Wackos.

  Judging by the consternation on his face, she had almost gotten through to him, but before he could make a final decision, a figure appeared on the mats. For a moment, she thought it was Hartman, but the teleporter they knew still stood beside them with a drooping jaw.

  Another teleporter had entered the basement.

  Like the other Wackos, this one wore black, but her back was slightly hunched and her hands were wrinkled, both indicating her old age. Thick glasses stuck out from the eye opening in her ski mask, and beneath that, her baggy eyes were a pretty, pale shade of mint.

  “Oh my,” the woman blurted, stumbling as she took in the scene around her. “This is much crazier than the picture you sent me, Josh.”

  The male Wacko, apparently named Josh, snapped his head toward the old woman with agitated eyes. “I told you not to come unless we were in dire need.”

  “You look like you’re in dire need,” she answered worriedly, sparing a glance at the monster being held down by Jamad’s ice and Maddy’s stretched extremities. “Oh dear… Come now—”

  “Not until we get the target,” Josh griped, but the old woman had already reached out and grabbed his arm. Without another word, the two warped out of the room while the remaining students gawked at where they’d just been standing.

  “Sick,” Hartman breathed, nearly drooling over the old teleporter’s advanced ability.

  “Is the other one gone?” Avner yelled to Zeela as he stood over the monster. Jamad had glued both of its hands to the orange mats with thick blocks of ice, while Maddy had wrapped her arms around the monster’s neck several times to inhibit it from struggling.

  “Yeah,” Zeela started, “but—”

  Before she could explain what Eliana also sensed, the old woman teleporter zapped back into the basement, now landing only a few paces from the monster. Avner’s electric eyes widened with apprehension.

  “Maddy—Mads, get off now,” he commanded as Maddy hastily tried to unravel her arms from around the monster’s neck. The teleporter, despite her age, was swifter, and she reached down to grasp the monster’s meaty arm before Maddy could detangle herself. “Maddy—”

  But they had vanished. The teleporter, the monster, Maddy, and the mats the monster had been stuck to all evaporated from the basement, leaving everyone to gawk the large, empty space on the floor where they’d all just been.

  “Maddy,” Jamad whispered, his icy blue eyes protruding with shock as he stared at the bare floor.

  “They’re not far,” Zeela said, already jogging toward the room’s exit. “I can just barely see them at the entrance of the town.” Avner and Jamad caught up with her rapidly, all three sprinting out of the room without a word to anyone.

  The remaining students that were conscious looked at each other with baffled eyes until Nixie, rather belatedly, said, “Well, if we’re going to continue this JAMZ session, we’d better go get more mats.”

  “Finish this?” Hartman repeated, cutting himself off due to overwhelming astonishment. “Did you not just see what happened? That teleporter—”

  “Yes, yes, she’s impressive, unlike you,” Nixie said with an eye roll. “Now that the boring rule-makers are gone, we can have some real fun—”

  “No. She’s coming back.” Eliana stared, alarmed, at Hastings. “She’s going to teleport back here for you. I—I heard her thinking about it—”

  “Get him out of here,” Lavisa commanded to Hartman as she spun wildly to face him.

  Confounded, his mouth opened and closed several times before
he finally blurted, “Me? You want me to get Hastings out of here? I can’t teleport like that—”

  “But you can teleport,” Lavisa insisted, her voice somehow calm despite the situation. “Take him to a different room. The teleporter won’t know where you went.”

  “I’ve never teleported with someone—”

  “Hartman.” Lavisa seized both of his wrists, gripping tight even as his quivers vibrated up her arms. “Do it now.”

  With an expression of uncertainty, the orange-haired boy approached Hastings and cautiously grabbed hold of his arm. While he was as impassive as always, Eliana watched them with utter horror, waiting for Hartman to accidentally rip Hastings in half with his amateur teleportation skills. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised or relieved when both boys momentarily disappeared and then reappeared two steps away.

  “At this rate, we might as well run,” Hastings intoned, but Hartman ignored him as they teleported again, this time farther than the last. With increasing distances, the two of them hopped out of the room at only a slightly quicker pace than Avner, Zeela, and Jamad had run a minute ago.

  They disappeared from sight just before a yell sounded throughout the basement. Thinking it was a Wacko, Lavisa automatically jumped into a fighting stance, but she relaxed when she realized it was only Tray Stark.

  Amusement mitigated Eliana’s tension. Still lying on one of the remaining orange mats, Tray was panting, his chest rising and falling at an increased rate as his bewildered brown eyes surveyed the scene. Seth was crouched beside him, his blue eyes lit with triumph at the awakening of his twin brother. There was nothing triumphant or cheerful about Tray’s emotions, though. Taking note of the absurd amount of unconscious students surrounding him, his anxiety swelled.

  “What—the hell?” he demanded, gaping at everything his vision landed on: the empty floor where another orange mat should have been, the bodies of his fellow students splayed around him, the burns on Eliana’s back and arm, and his own burn. Having landed on the hole Dave had seared into the mat, there was now a red ring in the middle of Tray’s chest where his skin had made contact with the remaining acid.