Blood: An Affinities Novel (The Affinities Book 1)

by Kirsten Krueger

  Adara’s eyebrows knitted in consternation. “Blocked memories?”

  “Some Affinities have the ability to block others’ memories—or alter their minds in any way, really. They can insert memories, block memories, make you see or believe things that aren’t true… It’s a dangerous ability, and I’ve only ever met one with that power.”

  “Who?” Adara and Seth both demanded in unison.

  Aethelred shook his head exasperatedly. “It’s not my place to divulge such information. I have hopes, though, that since I began to penetrate your hidden memories, you will be able to unravel the rest in time. It is a crime to have our pasts stripped from us, even if they were horrid.”

  Adara scrutinized the chief of Mentals as he kneaded his hands together in an odd fashion and then exited the room. Aethelred had always been strange to her, but he was acting especially deflated now, and she sincerely hoped she hadn’t scarred him with her past.

  “Where is everyone now?” she asked as she refocused her attention on Seth. He was seated in the chair between the two beds, his fingers playing idly with the pockets of his orange cargo pants as he stared soberly at the floor. “What happened after I passed out?”

  “The fight broke apart when you and Aethelred collapsed,” he informed her in an absent tone that sounded unnatural with his voice. “Everyone was, well, stunned, I guess—even Nero and his crew. Nero actually offered to carry Aethelred here, which was weird.”

  “Did the Pixie Prince drag me here again?” Adara questioned as she glanced down at her forearms. They were still pinkish with the scars from her previous road rash, but no new injuries were present.

  “No. I…tried to carry you, but I was—I was so shocked that I was too weak. Tray brought you.”

  Pressing her lips together, Adara suppressed the urge to reach out and take his hand in a sentimental way. She’d nearly forgotten that Seth had hugged her when he offered to let her move in with them. It was the only time they’d ever touched like that—in a way that wasn’t rough or playful but deep and emotional.

  “Why do you like Kiki?” was what she decided to ask him. There wasn’t spite in her tone necessarily, just genuine curiosity. It caught him off guard; his jaw fell slack as his fidgeting increased.

  “I—well…I… You know how we were when we were young. We were losers—”

  “Were?” Adara challenged with a crooked smirk.

  “Fine, you still are—” She punched his arm lightly, and he snorted an empty laugh. “I wasn’t cool or well-liked, and you know how that is. When Kiki kissed me in eighth grade, I…I felt like someone really liked me. It was a good feeling, and I didn’t really care who she was or what she did. I was such a dick for letting her bully you. It feels like ages ago now, but…I’m sorry. And, just so you know, I don’t like her anymore. Everyone here might be a bunch of misfits, but…they’re genuine people. Ackerly, Eliana, even my roommate—well, he doesn’t really like me, but I think everyone else does, and I’d rather be liked by a bunch of weirdos than a bunch of assholes. I really like it here. I like that you and me can be friends here without any social pressure. I feel like we’re in kindergarten again, and I love it.”

  Adara smiled—a small smile without any sadism or sinister slyness. Her past was full of joy and sorrow and rage, but in this moment, she felt light and ethereal, a rare sensation her antagonism didn’t often allow for. When her eyes met the pure blue of his, all negativity depleted. “Me, too.”

  Rays of light seeped in through the enormous glass panes that covered the back wall of Angor Periculy’s office, illuminating his pinkish hair in a way that made it blend with the sunset beyond the forest in the distance. His eyes roved a piece of paper that was slightly charred around the edges, but his face gave away no emotion. He was certainly more stoic than Hastings had been over the past month.

  Since Eliana had admitted her sentiments toward him with that kiss in October, the weight of guilt had melted enough that Hastings could permit himself to smile, if only occasionally. It felt terribly romantic and almost unreal, but he hadn’t cared about someone like Eliana since his mother died, and it was a rejuvenating sensation to care. Even though they’d gone on just acting like they were friends, not kissing in the corridors or holding hands in class or doing any of the mushy things normal couples did, he knew he was allowed to feel—that he was capable of displaying some form of emotion without exploding someone’s blood vessels. That in itself was liberating, and he wasn’t sure why he’d even agreed to come to Angor’s office this evening—or at all, anymore.

  Mr. Periculy hadn’t been the one to show him how to use his Affinity in a positive way. The principal had only taught him control in the past few months, and control to Angor was what Hastings had been practicing for years: apathy. He wanted to learn how to do more than just subdue his Affinity, and Eliana had been helping him with that more than anyone.

  Still, he found himself sitting in the chair across from Angor Periculy now, watching passively as the principal read over this letter for what had to be the sixth time. Hastings was beginning to wonder if Angor remembered he was there at all when the man finally spoke.

  “The leader of the Wackos wants to negotiate a deal with us.”

  Hastings blinked. “Me for Maddy.”

  Angor glanced up now, his rose pink eyes far less serious than his tone. “Naretha for Maddy, actually. They want us to give them back their Wacko, and we can have Madella. This is the exact trade Avner Stromer was hoping for.”

  After a moment of hesitation, Hastings asked, “And you’re not going to do it?”

  Expelling a breath, the man placed the letter on his desk and leaned back in his swivel chair. “I need Aethelred to see the Wacko’s past before we can give her back. Of course, he won’t do it. He’s always been soft, Aethelred…but, I’m hoping, now that he’s ‘intruded’ on Adara Stromer’s past, he might be willing to help us find more information on the Wackos as a way to ‘right his wrongs,’ or however he might put it…”

  Hastings bit the inside of his lip, wondering still why he was here. Normally, he and Angor would discuss his feelings and how he could combat them, whether they were good or bad. They would read books on physiology, so Hastings could better understand how his Affinity worked scientifically, and, on rare occasions, when Angor was feeling particularly manic, he would let Hastings practice popping and healing his blood vessels. Somehow, the principal would simper through it in a way that convinced Hastings the man was clinically insane.

  “What’s puzzling me now is that this letter was signed by Daniel and not Zacchaeus,” Angor continued, muttering mostly to himself as he stroked his chin.

  “Who are they?”

  “They are the sons of the previous Wacko leader, Ephraim Mayer. I’ve heard rumors that he was killed recently, but I was unsure if it was true. Daniel is his younger son, and I would have thought Zacchaeus would have taken over with their father’s death…”

  “You know a lot about the Wackos.”

  Angor met his eyes warningly. “I do not work with the Wackos, Hastings—I believe I have made this clear to you. Yet, they are our kind. I do not wish them dead; I wish they would see reason. Perhaps under new leadership, they will, but…Daniel has always been temperamental. I imagine that, if his father truly has been murdered, he will be even more unstable than before… Nevertheless, I do not want to obliterate them all, even though I’m certain you have the capability to.”

  Shifting uneasily in his chair, Hastings frowned. “I don’t want to kill people.”

  “I understand, I understand,” Angor said, though judging by the airiness to his tone, he didn’t really understand. “Sometimes we must do what we do not want to do, though, Hastings. I never wanted to run a town like this, necessarily—I wanted to move to a remote island and live out my days peacefully with a family, maybe, but life does not grant all of our wishes. I saw the need for Periculand, and I saw I could fulfill that need, so I did. The Regg ambassadors, a
s I have told you before, plan to use the Affinities of this town to destroy the Wackos. This is not only something I don’t want but also something I can’t allow to happen. I cannot let the Reggs use the innocent people of this town as warriors.”

  Even though Hastings knew what was coming next, it still made his stomach churn with revulsion.

  “The Regg ambassadors will be coming here tomorrow for a meeting. I want you to be at that meeting, Hastings,” Angor said, almost desperately, as he sat forward in his chair. His posture was stiff now, full of purpose, as he gazed down at Hastings with a dark sort of fondness. “I want you to use your Affinity for the greater good. I want you to save this town.”

  The door to room 1205 was already open when Avner approached it, his hands in the pockets of his green cargo pants. He leaned on the doorframe and watched his two friends in silence, smiling to himself just because they were there and safe.

  Zeela sat on her bed with her back against the wall and her feet dangling over the edge. A book was in her lap, and even though Avner had known her for over three years now, it was still eerie to watch her solid white eyes glide within their sockets as she read. The fact that she could read at all, being blind, was baffling to him, and he often wondered what she really saw. Was his hair bright pink to her, or perhaps some other color that didn’t even exist in the scope of a normal human’s vision? He would never know, because whatever she saw when she saw his hair, the rest of the world had deemed it yellow, and so to Zeela, that was what yellow looked like.

  Jamad was stationed on the other side of the room, sitting on Maddy’s bed with slumped shoulders, as he sifted through her photographs. His blue hair was beginning to burgeon into an afro, and light stubble grew over the dark skin of his face. Beyond the icy irises of his eyes, the whites held a pinkish tint, and when he noticed Avner staring at him, he quickly blinked away any wetness and forced a grin.

  “Hey—man,” Jamad stammered, coughing to clear his throat. He placed the photos down on Maddy’s bed but didn’t stand. “Did you vote?”

  “Yeah, not that it matters. Hauser and Cosmos won’t win,” Avner sighed as he crossed the room to sit beside his girlfriend on her bed. She glanced up from her book briefly to give him a strained smile.

  “You seem a little less blue,” she observed as her blank eyes traced his form. “Did Adara wake up?”

  “Yeah, and she’s fine—maybe even a little better than she was before, honestly.” His lips quirked upward as he tilted back against the wall. “She kept mentioning all of these things we used to do when we were kids—well, things she would do and I would tell her not to do. She must have seen all of her memories when Aethelred did…”

  “That’s weird,” Jamad noted. “When Aethelred saw my past, I didn’t see anything—just felt a little zap, like when you wake me up in the morning.”

  Chuckling mildly, Avner shook his head. “You saw what happened in the cafeteria with Aethelred and Adara, and it was weird.”

  “Does she know?” Zeela asked with a serious edge to her tone. “Did you tell her?”

  “No, and no one’s going to—Aethelred made that pretty clear when he woke up yesterday,” Avner said sternly, recalling when the man had stumbled into the cafeteria, stubbly and less composed than he’d ever been, and after hearing what had occurred between Adara and himself, instructed everyone to refrain from relaying the details to her.

  “Well,” Jamad started, tapping restlessly on the bed frame, “we have something we need to tell you.”

  Avner’s brow furrowed as his friends exchanged wary looks.

  “We overheard Angor talking to Hastings about Maddy,” Zeela said, sitting forward as she set her book aside.

  “Eliana’s Hastings?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was actually Otis who heard them,” Jamad said, referring to a boy in their year who had an advanced hearing Affinity. “We convinced him to spy on Angor for us, and he said he got a letter from the Wackos, negotiating an exchange between our captured Wacko and Maddy.”

  Relief sparked within Avner. “That’s great—”

  “He didn’t take the offer,” Zeela informed him bluntly, her eyebrows set with vexation. “He said he needs to get more information out of the Wacko before he can give her back. He doesn’t care about Maddy—they could be torturing her…”

  “Z, it’s all right,” Avner said, caressing her shoulder soothingly, even though he felt far from soothed. “I doubt they’re hurting Maddy. We’ve got one of theirs; they’ll want to keep Maddy safe, so they can get Naretha back. They’re probably just as worried as we are—even if they’re evil. They wouldn’t have tried to conduct an exchange if they didn’t care.”

  Zeela exhaled a shaky breath as she fought for composure. Jamad appeared to be equally unsettled, but Avner maintained a collected demeanor.

  “Did Angor say anything else?”

  “He said that, if Aethelred will comply and look into the Wacko’s past, they can do the exchange,” Jamad explained.

  “But I doubt Aethelred will,” Zeela added. “He hates to use his Affinity. He seems shaken enough with what happened with your sister—I doubt he’ll want to touch anyone else any time soon.”

  “Someone has to get the Wacko to talk,” Avner reasoned. “Once she tells Angor what he wants to know, we can get Maddy back.”

  With optimistically arched eyebrows, Jamad glanced between them. “We could…torture the information out of her—”

  “No,” Avner interjected inflexibly as he stared at the floor. “We’re not doing anything like that.”

  Jamad looked to Zeela. Her jaw clenched before she carefully said, “Av…the Wackos are terrorists. Maddy—”

  “Wouldn’t want us to torture anyone,” he insisted. “You know Mads—she wouldn’t. There’s gotta be another way.”

  “If Angor won’t release the Wacko, we need to break out of this town and save her ourselves,” Zeela concluded, making it clear the idea was insane. Avner stared off pensively, the cogs of his brain spinning as he worked through the details.

  “We could probably convince Ira to let us out…maybe. The only issue is transportation—and the fact that we don’t know where the Wackos are. Too bad that Hartman kid isn’t better with his Affinity… Do you think Angor knows where the Wackos’ headquarters is?”

  “I think, if he did know, he wouldn’t care about Naretha much,” Jamad said, fidgeting restlessly until he finally decided to jump up from their missing friend’s bed. “I think we should just go see the Wacko—try to talk to her, at least. Maybe she’ll tell us where the headquarters—”

  Zeela laughed cynically, shaking her head. “J, c’mon. She won’t just tell us the most valuable secret she has. We’d have to torture it out of her—or at least have someone use their Affinity on her. Aethelred could see into her past, but he won’t. My sister might be able to read her thoughts—if we can provoke the Wacko to think about where the others are located.”

  Pressing his lips together, Avner held his breath as he struggled to think of a better option.

  “Maddy’s been gone for a month now, Av,” Jamad pleaded, vulnerable and defeated as he stood before them. Maddy’s kidnapping had taken a physical toll on him, and emotionally, all three of them were drained, constantly fretting over the fate of their friend. In the past three years of knowing Jamad, Avner had never seen his cocky friend so crestfallen. “They’re probably not torturing her, but they could be, and even if they’re not, she’s a hostage. We need to save her. She would do anything to save you if it were the other way around, and you know it. She’s the best one of us. Without her, we’re just JAZ, and that’s not even a word—”

  “It is—”

  “Shh,” he hissed, cutting Zeela off as a smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. Desperation soon refilled his eyes when he glanced back at Avner. “If you won’t come with me to talk to the Wacko, I’ll go alone, and we all know I won’t be able to contain my rage without the two of you. I
t will get frosty in that prison cell.”

  Although Avner let out a faint laugh, his expression was temperate when he met his best friend’s eyes. “We’ll all go, then—for Maddy.”

  “For Maddy.”

  Blackness was all Ackerly could see as he stared up at the ceiling that Tuesday night.

  After Adara had been released from the nurse’s office, as grumpy and sarcastic as usual, she, Ackerly, Seth, and Tray had spent the rest of the afternoon in the cafeteria, where she ate two days’ worth of food within the span of five hours. They’d talked and argued and watched the polls on the television that pointed toward the fact that their fate was gloomy and foreboding. Yet, somehow, the four of them had been able to laugh and enjoy each other’s company, and as he lay in his bed now, knowing that tomorrow, all Affinities might be doomed forever, Ackerly was still smiling.

  His glasses were off, his pajamas were on, and he was cozy beneath his blankets, even with the chill of November. The ambience in his dorm room, however, was not one of peace, and he knew it was because of the noises his roommate was making.

  “Why do you keep sighing?” Ackerly asked innocently.

  A breath exhaled from across the room, where Tray lay in his own bed. “They canceled classes tomorrow—as if we won’t have the backbone to handle our emotions after the results of the election. It’s pathetic. We were supposed to have a science quiz tomorrow, but it’s canceled because teenagers are too hormonal.”

  “Well…I think it’ll be a nice day off. We can all hang out for…for…”

  “For the last time?” Tray offered before sighing again. “Even though Hauser and Cosmos obviously won’t win tomorrow, the new Regg president won’t be inaugurated until January. We still have a few months of this relative freedom before they throw us into federal prison.”

  Ackerly’s voice was meek as it cut through the darkness. “You really think that’ll happen?”

  “Adara and I told you what we overheard the Regg ambassadors saying. The government wants to use us, and once they’re done, they’ll probably imprison us. It makes sense on their part, even though it’s unethical… I don’t like the idea of using our powers or even having powers at all, but…I like the idea of prison even less. We’ll be stuck in this town forever, no matter what; if we can find a way to ward the Reggs and Wackos off, maybe they’ll eventually just leave us alone…”