Blood: An Affinities Novel (The Affinities Book 1)

by Kirsten Krueger

  “Mind Reader?” Adara prompted, peeking over her shoulder. Eliana stood alone by the garden now, seemingly torn between this mission and whatever else she’d needed to do. Ultimately, she nodded once before jogging to catch up with them, leaving nature behind.

  “Is your sister coming?” Avner heard Jamad griping to Zeela from across Periculand’s police station. Jamad stood near the desk with his arms crossed while Zeela peeked out the front windows, searching the town for Eliana.

  “Better question: Is Mitt gonna die?” Avner asked as his gaze flew to where Mitt Telum was frozen to the wall behind his desk. Jamad had encased him in a thick coating of ice the moment they’d entered the building, to Avner’s chagrin. The officer’s silver eyes were wide, and Avner wondered if he even had any air to breathe within the block of ice.

  Jamad raised his arctic blue eyebrows. “I don’t see how that’s a better question.”

  “Mitt and I are old friends, and you froze him—”

  “Because he was going to stun-gun us,” he insisted, making a gun gesture with his hands.

  “He was not going to stun us—he knows I’m resistant to stun-guns. Besides, we probably could have talked him into letting us back there.” Avner jabbed his thumb toward the door behind him while Jamad repeatedly shook his head.

  “We don’t have that kinda time, dude.”

  “Oh, but we have time for you two to bicker like an old grouchy couple?” Zeela retorted, rotating her head to face the boys. Even with her dark sunglasses, Avner could tell she was giving them an admonishing look.

  “We’re waiting for your sister,” Jamad reminded her, nodding toward the window. The weather was cold and gloomy this afternoon, permitting only a minute amount of light to shed in through the windows, but this frigid bleakness was the kind of atmosphere Jamad and his Affinity thrived in.

  “I don’t think she’s coming,” Zeela admitted regretfully. “I don’t see her anywhere—she must be back at campus. We’ll have to go in without her. I can read the Wacko’s auras—”

  “Her auras aren’t going to tell us where the Wackos live,” Jamad said.

  “Let’s just go in and see what we can get her to say,” Avner suggested as he swung the back door open.

  After glancing uncomfortably at Mitt, he plunged into the corridor lined with metal bars and reeking with a mild grungy scent. He was quickly acquainted with the source of the smell: sitting on a bed within the first cell on the left was the Wacko named Naretha, her skin glazed with oil as pungent as Fraco’s and her short, light pink hair flat with grease. The thin white cloth she wore was stained with sweat and smudges, despite the fact that her cell was relatively clean.

  “Whoa. Did they send Fraco in here to torture her?” Jamad blurted as soon as he entered the hall. Zeela shot him a warning glance he was ignorant to.

  “I haven’t been allowed to shower,” the Wacko informed him, her arms crossed, as she lounged in her cot. Though her body was taller than Zeela’s and she was older than Mitt, her situation gave her a sense of childishness when she would otherwise appear rather elegant. “Apparently, your people are scared to let me out of this cell.”

  Avner stood straight as he appraised her. “Well, you are a terrorist.”

  “That’s a relative term,” she scoffed, glaring up at the ceiling with impatience. “To Reggs, we might be terrorists, but to Affinities, we’re liberators.”

  “You’re a threat to everyone,” Jamad countered coldly. “If you Wackos didn’t attack Reggs, they wouldn’t be scared of us. You ruined this world for Affinities.”

  “I agree, but that’s not why we’re here,” Zeela said. “I’m sure plenty of our people have come in here to interrogate you.”

  “I know about the offer Danny made to Angor, if that’s what you’re asking,” Naretha replied. Upon seeing the confusion on their faces, she smirked and added, “Danny’s the leader of our movement, and yes, I know him personally.”

  “Are you…dating the leader of the Wackos?” Jamad questioned with creased eyebrows.

  “If you want details, little boy, you’ll need to give me something in return,” Naretha answered diplomatically. “I’d prefer freedom, but a shower would be nice, as well.”

  “We aren’t here to bargain with you,” Avner cut in before his friend could begin a negotiation. “We want to know where the Wackos’ hideout is—”

  “So you can save your friend,” Naretha finished with an eye roll. “I’m surprised you didn’t come sooner. You people here are kind to your prisoners. Your friend is probably suffering immensely under Danny’s hand—”

  “Tell us where she is!” Jamad exclaimed, lurching toward the bars of the cell and wrapping his hands around them. As soon as his skin made contact with the metal, he was zapped with a voltage of electricity that threw him back across the hallway. Naretha’s eyebrows shot up, but she seemed most shocked by the fact that neither Avner nor Zeela had reacted.

  “If you were wondering why I haven’t tried to break out,” she managed to say, “that’s why.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Avner said, registering the perplexed furrow of her eyebrows. “He’s used to it.”

  “Right…” the Wacko said, gradually sitting up in her bed. “Well, little ones, I think you’ve been left with only one option here. Angor’s not going to release me to save your friend, and I’m not going to tell you where you can find your friend. The only way to save her is if you break me out and bring me back to my people. I’m not sure how you’ll get me out with this electricity business, but I’m sure, if you’re desperate, you’ll find a way.”

  “I can get you out,” Avner assured her, rubbing his fingers to produce a few sparks, “but I won’t.”

  “Why?” both females unintentionally chorused.

  “She’s a terrorist, Z,” Avner said quietly to his girlfriend. “She’s dangerous—”

  “Maddy is in danger,” Zeela hissed furiously, fighting to maintain a cool composure. “Maddy is captured in a colony of terrorists—if we have the opportunity to save her, we have to. Angor isn’t going to give up this Wacko to get Maddy back, so we have to. If you won’t do this…J and I will, without you.”

  “Yeah, we will,” Jamad grunted as he propped himself up on his elbows. His face was screwed in the same amount of physical pain Avner felt emotionally.

  They’d always done everything together, the four of them, and now they were willing to go on without him because he was stubborn and unwilling to do anything wrong. Was it wrong, though, to want to save a friend?

  “We could always torture the location out of her,” Avner offered weakly.

  Jamad emitted a single laugh. “Now you’re into torture, huh?”

  Sighing, he pinched his forehead and glanced down at his friend. “Can you stand, J?”

  31

  Manipulation and Control

  Adara had not spent any length of time in the training school’s library—too much nerdiness compacted in one area—but she was certain it should not have been this empty mid-afternoon on a weekday. It was deathly quiet, without a soul in sight; not even the librarian was at her desk.

  “Now you can all understand why I avoid the library,” Adara whispered as she and her friends slunk into the vast room. She’d used her lowest voice, but it still echoed up into the open second story, bouncing off the looming bookshelves. “This place is like a freakin’ graveyard.”

  “It’s not usually like this,” Tray muttered, glancing around cautiously. He clutched his book to his chest like a child hugging a teddy bear while Ackerly fidgeted with his glasses beside him.

  “Something’s wrong,” Eliana said, her eyes darting around until they settled on the door to the stairwell. Adara was about to thank her for stating the obvious when the door yawned open and enemies started swarming out like bees from a hive.

  “Well, well…the primies,” Nero crooned, his footsteps vibrating through the floor as he marched to approach them.

  Overcome by
fear, Hartman teleported from Lavisa’s side to Adara’s, clinging to her. Although she was flattered that he thought she could protect him, she was too distracted by the outflow of antagonists to acknowledge it. Behind Nero strolled his girlfriend, pigtails protruding from either side of her head and an orb of water suspended above her palm. Adara noticed Tray lick his lips anxiously.

  “No one’s supposed to be in here right now,” Nixie said, assuming a position beside her boyfriend. “There’s an important meeting happening upstairs.”

  “What are you, Angor’s bodyguards?” Adara mocked, but when Acid Attack joined the line, she felt a bit less confident. Another bulky form lingered in the shadows beyond them, and circling around his sister to face Adara directly was the Pixie Prince.

  “We don’t want anyone going upstairs,” Calder repeated, the words elusive and his tone almost…mechanical, as if they’d all been programmed to recite this set of ideas.

  Adara exchanged a look with Tray. Before, they had wanted to spy on this meeting, but now it was clear that they needed to. There was something shady going on here, and they couldn’t just walk away—nor could they fight this group. Lavisa and Tray were the only two with combative Affinities, since Hartman was mostly incompetent and Adara was…unwilling.

  They all knew her Affinity, and based on the nervous way their opponents kept peering at her, they knew she could annihilate them. She couldn’t, though—not really. The only control she had over her Affinity was the ability to suppress it, and that would do nothing in a brawl.

  “You let Hastings go upstairs,” Eliana protested, likely sensing his mind above them.

  “Missing your boyfriend, little Mensen?” Nero jeered, and Nixie cackled.

  “You don’t understand,” she insisted, frustrated and verging on distraught. “Something is wrong—”

  “The only thing wrong is you primies being here,” Nero retorted, taking an intimidating step forward. “I’m feeling generous today, though. If you agree to leave, I’ll only beat up my little tadpole of a stepbrother instead of all of you.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Hartman questioned, grimacing. “I don’t really think it’s necessary—”

  “We’ll leave,” Tray announced, shocking Adara into speechlessness. Had they not just conducted a silent conversation with their eyes about how they needed to not leave? “Hartman,” Tray added, his tone slightly hushed but still loud enough for Nero to hear, “you can just teleport away—”

  “Can I, though? I don’t think I can—”

  Tray wasn’t listening to Hartman’s rambling, though; he was staring intently at Lavisa. Adara couldn’t believe he was taking this tense moment to check out a girl, but then Lavisa nodded wordlessly and proved there was purpose behind his gaze by launching herself at Nero.

  Somehow, the big bully didn’t see it coming, and she planted a perfect kick to his stomach, causing him to cave in on himself. Adara had to admit she hadn’t quite been expecting it, either.

  “You sneaky bastard, Nerdworm!” she laughed, utterly in awe. “I thought you were here to stop the rest of us from being rash?”

  “I’m not being rash,” he mumbled, eyeing Nero carefully.

  Everything Tray did was meticulously planned, which was why Adara was even more astonished when he inhaled a shaky breath and then charged forward, plowing the massive boy back into the wall, using his book like a shield. It was not the book that surprised her, though—it was the fact that Tray had just engaged in an offensive attack.

  After that, the battle morphed into mercilessness.

  Lavisa punched, kicked, and elbowed every person she could, flipping Dave onto his back and then cursing at the red welt of acid burn on her arm. Tray was a little less precise with his movements, but he barreled through the mysterious boulder before Nero righted himself and retaliated. Infuriated, Nixie stomped forward to thrust water at the rest of the group, but Hartman had already taken initiative, teleporting around her with such rapidity that she couldn’t focus.

  Dave got up, groaning and glaring. Since Lavisa was occupied by boulder-boy while Tray warded off Nero’s vicious punches with his book, Seth stepped forward to challenge Acid Attack. Cringing, Adara watched Dave spit acid while Seth attempted to tackle him like the football player he was. A few burns resulted from the scuffle, and she wasn’t sure what she would do if Seth’s injuries worsened. Where she was denying her Affinity, he truly didn’t know his, and if she could save him…

  “Something is wrong,” Eliana hissed at Adara as she slipped in next to her. The two of them and Ackerly were the only ones who had not yet engaged in the fight, and with the way Ackerly winced and trembled, Adara doubted he’d opt to join any time soon.

  “Is that your new catch phrase, Mind Reader?” Adara jabbed, receiving a cobalt-blue scowl in response.

  “Their thoughts are…foggy. It’s like someone tampered with their minds to obscure their beliefs and…and make them want to attack us. They aren’t acting on their own free will.”

  “You don’t think Nero would want to pummel us all on his own? Where have you been the past two months?”

  “No—I think—I know he would,” she clarified, her brow wrinkling as she scanned the melee, “but not wanting us to go upstairs—that’s not them. They’ve never been in league with Angor before, and from what I can tell, they don’t even like him. Why would they all of a sudden want to do his bidding?”

  “To secure this opportunity to beat us up?” Adara offered with a shrug.

  “Yes, but why would Angor ask them to stop us? What is he doing up there that he doesn’t want us to see? What if Hastings didn’t tell us all of Angor’s motives? What if he isn’t even aware of Angor’s motives?”

  “You think the King’s up to some dark shit?”

  Eliana scratched her forehead awkwardly. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but…maybe.”

  Adara opened her mouth—only to swallow an unexpected spurt of water. Whipping her gaze toward the fight, she found Nixie still going at it with Hartman, but Calder was standing only a few paces away, jumping his eyebrows tauntingly.

  “Not gonna fight?”

  “I could ask you the same,” she countered, since he was completely unscathed. She hadn’t been watching him, but she had a feeling he’d been watching her throughout the entire battle, determining the best time to strike.

  The strange part was that he didn’t seem totally assured about his course of action. Typically, the Pixie Prince was confident in his abilities, threatening to drown people with just the flick of his fingers. There was something hesitant in his gaze now, though—a certain caginess in his stance.

  “Still as afraid of me as you were when I caught you shirtless earlier?” Adara questioned, plastering a smirk on her lips as she took a few steps closer to him. Calder’s expression shifted into bitterness, but he didn’t make any moves to retreat. “Have you finally realized I’m a threat?”

  “Have you finally realized you’re a threat?” A serious gleam entered his ocean blue eyes—a spiteful sort of hope. Adara wasn’t a fan.

  “If I’m so threatening, why don’t you just kindly let me by?”

  “We can’t let anyone by…other than Hastings.”

  “Why?”

  Calder’s eyebrows screwed in genuine confusion. “I…don’t know…”

  “You don’t know?” she asked dryly.

  Calder studied the scene, as if seeing it for the first time. He was almost paralyzed by the sight of Seth and Dave wrestling, Tray defending himself from Nero’s punches with a book, Lavisa rolling to dodge the boulder’s rocks, and Hartman skipping around to distract Nixie. It was a little cruel to take advantage of him in this confounded state, but Adara would repent later. Now, she would do what she did best: knee him in the groin.

  “Nice try,” he said almost absently as he caught her leg between his hands. When his eyes met hers, they were brimming with bloodlust—or drown-lust.

  With a throaty breath, he ex
pelled near-invisible particles of water that expanded exponentially and condensed, forming one of his classic water orbs. With his grasp on her knee, she was unable to flee or even back away as the ball of water latched onto her face.

  “Cosmos isn’t here to save you this time,” he said, dropping her knee but refusing to drop the water.

  She stumbled back a few steps and it remained. She was dimly aware of Ackerly calling her name and of Tray taking a moment to gawk at her, costing him a punch to the jaw. Without the chance to inhale new oxygen, she could already feel her lungs heaving for more air.

  “What happened to ‘my enemies always lose,’ Stromer?” Calder tantalized, his voice smooth amidst the calamity.

  Throwing that phrase in her face now was heartless but justifiable. Adara had been foolish enough to make such a brash claim; she deserved to bask in its falsity now. The first moment she’d seen Calder, she should have known she’d never defeat him. Ruthlessness bled from every feature of his face. He didn’t flaunt his Affinity like Nero, but he didn’t need to—he was inherently more powerful. He was the deadliest person here, and she was experiencing the full effect of it.

  “Adara!” a nasally voice swam in her ears. Beside her, Ackerly had appeared, and he was waving his hands through the water mask, attempting fruitlessly to remove it from her face.

  With a roll of his eyes, Calder threw up his hand and encased a twin sphere around Ackerly’s face, drowning them both simultaneously.

  Until now, Adara’s thoughts had been growing hazy, but to see Greenie suffering aroused fury in her—the same fury that had provoked her to attack the Pixie Prince at JAMZ. That assault had been physical, but she was not a Physical. This would be Natural.

  Trepidation surfaced on Calder’s face, but there was also a hint of giddiness when Adara grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and burned it. To her delight, the flames appeared and disappeared so swiftly that she barely even saw them. One second, she held fabric in her hand and the next, it was a pile of ash. The look on Calder’s face as he gaped at the hole in his shirt brought her such satisfaction that she couldn’t even react to the horror of what her body had just done.