Nerve

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by Kirsten Krueger




  NERVE: An Affinities Novel

  ISBN: 978-1-7329014-2-1 paperback

  ISBN: 978-1-7329014-3-8 ebook

  Copyright © 2019 by Kirsten Krueger

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author, with the exception of short quotations in book reviews.

  Editing by: Mikaela Pederson, A Step Up Editing

  Cover by: Damonza.com

  Formatting by: Damonza.com

  Interior Art by: Ilona Parttimaa

  To my sister Heidi, because she was mad that I dedicated Blood to our other sister instead of her

  Contents

  Affinities Novels

  Affinities Novellas

  Map

  1: The Fire Internal

  2: The Future and The Past

  3: Another Thieving Stromer

  4: Visitors

  5: Velkommen and Un-Velkommen

  6: Alien

  7: Usurpers’ Dominion

  8: Information Breaker

  9: Shifting Allegiances

  10: Parental Love

  11: The Enslaved and The Escaped

  12: Another Imprisoned Stromer

  13: The Science of Defense

  14: Sympathy

  15: Another Fiery Stromer

  16: Prison-mates

  17: Tattoos

  18: Investigation and Infatuation

  19: Escapees

  20: New Acquaintances and Old Enemies

  21: Doom

  22: Deception and Perception

  23: Family Friends

  24: Different Breeds of Monsters

  25: The Art of Awkwardness

  26: Rainbow Rose

  27: Rotten

  28: The Fate of the Demoness

  29: Truth-Tellers and Falsity-Feeders

  30 Fiery Fate

  31: Revelations

  32: Cloudy Morals

  33: Identities

  34: Villains Galore

  35: Wacko Attacko Pt. 2

  36: Unnecessary Deaths

  37: Physical Limitations

  38: Manipulation and Control Pt. 2

  39: The Fire External

  AFFINITIES NOVELS

  Blood

  Nerve

  AFFINITIES NOVELLAS

  The Pixie Prince

  1

  The Fire Internal

  A grunt reverberated through the dank little chamber as Madella Martinez yanked at the manacles encasing her wrists. Her concept of time had deteriorated, but she must have spent weeks in the Wackos’ captivity—or months.

  Knocked unconscious the moment she’d been teleported into the van, she’d awoken some time later in this windowless room, the metal door her sole hope of escape. She lay on a slanted slab of cool steel that made her normally pliable limbs immalleable, rendering her Affinity useless. After such a prolonged period of this mind-numbing torture, would her power ever work properly again?

  At first, she’d been certain Jamad, Zeela, and Avner would rescue her. She had cried, screamed, and fought for hours to wrench herself from the restraints until her voice disappeared and her strength diminished, leaving her hollow and defeated.

  Someone came in each day to feed and clean her. The tall silhouette blocked out most light from the external hallway, and once the door was closed, the darkness made him indistinguishable. Whenever his hands brushed her sullied flannel pants or grimy skin, he grunted in disgust, though she’d never heard him speak. Why would he talk to someone so subhuman and soiled?

  Today, though she wasn’t sure which day today was, a tinier silhouette appeared when the door swung open. Maddy stopped thrashing and cleared her throat, but the visitor had no conversational intentions. With the flick of their hand, the cuffs snapped, dropping Maddy to the ground.

  Pain sparked through her joints as she collided with the stone, and her atrophying muscles strained to function as she rose to her hands and knees. Wisps of burnt-orange hair fell over her face, and she pushed aside the greasy strands with her trembling hand. Her fingers tingled with the sensation of touching something other than the frigid metal.

  The stranger had disappeared, giving way to a long, empty hallway. Glass panes lined either side, divided by pale walls too bright for her eyes to handle. Failing to stifle her groans, Maddy pushed off the ground and used her slanted metal bed to stand. Her arms sagged too long and her legs wobbled in unstable strides. The tile in the hallway warmed her bare feet as she stumbled through the doorway, and the balmier air rejuvenated her taut skin.

  Beyond the glass panes lay small, vacant cells, all clean and well lit, unlike hers. In the last cell on the left, a prisoner slept against the wall, thin arms hugging his legs. His mohawk, which faded from black to blue, wilted over his forehead, as unkempt as the dark makeup smeared on his cheeks. It took a moment for Maddy to recognize him in his withered state, but this was the Wacko who had broken into Periculand—the one with an Affinity for putting people to sleep.

  “Do you have somewhere to be, Madella?” a voice asked, jolting her. The volume hadn’t been loud, but any sound was jarring to her underused ears. Ahead, in the open doorway, stood the speaker: a young man, arms crossed to display his tattooed arms.

  Ink covered the entirety of his skin, black patterns with random splotches of reds, oranges, and yellows, in small explosions bursting from his flesh. Dark spirals and flames crept from beneath the neckline of his t-shirt, snaking up to his prominent jawline. Though he seemed at ease leaning casually against the doorframe, what terrified her was the hue of his eyes: radiant orange, streaked with lines of white and yellow.

  A silver hoop glinted when he raised his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t have a few moments to chat, would you?” Maddy’s wide eyes flew toward the cell the other Wacko slept in, and the man before her flashed a crooked smile. “Worried about Josh, are you? He’s suffering only a mild punishment compared to what he did.” When she blinked at him, his smile became patronizingly sympathetic. “Of course, you have no clue. Come, I’ve made you coffee. We’ll talk.”

  Without another word, he retreated through the doorway, which led to a grand office. An elevator was positioned in the closest corner, and though Maddy wanted to dart for it, she knew that, in her current state, she was no match for this healthy man. Instead, she followed him toward his wooden desk, the gaudiest object in a mostly barren space. Two bookshelves towered against one wall and a massive flatscreen television hung on the other, the only adornments in sight.

  He motioned for her to sit on the leather chaise before his desk while he sat in the chair beyond. As she stumbled onto the chaise, she was startled to see a tinted window at his back. Thick vines covered the glass, mostly blocking her view of the endless body of murky gray water in the distance.

  “Lake Erie,” he said when he saw her staring. His words were polite, spoken almost kindly, despite his obscene tattoos and punkish fashion. As he pushed a black mug of equally black coffee across the desk, he added, “If you look through the window at the right angle, you can see Cleveland. Have you ever seen Cleveland before?”

  Nodding, Maddy grabbed the coffee mug. The liquid splashed against the ceramic walls as her hand quivered.

  “It’s nothing spectacular,” he drawled, leaning back and raising his own mug to his lips. “I’ll level it if I get the chance—perhaps rebuild something that’s even better than Periculand.” He paused as she forced the scalding liquid down her throat. “Aren’t you going to say, ‘There’s nothing better than Periculand?’” When she didn’t, he sighed. “You aren’t much company, are you? I see why your friends allowed you to be taken so willingly.” Her jaw clenched as weeks of building frustration surfaced. He
grinned. “Ah, there we are. Seems I’ve hit a nerve. You’ll be pleased to know your friends did chase after you, but our van left far before they could catch up.

  “I tried bargaining with Angor Periculy to exchange you for the woman he’s captured, Naretha. He didn’t take to the offer. The reason for Josh’s punishment, in fact, is because he did nothing to bring Naretha back to us. He simply left her there. He left my girlfriend there.” His fingers whitened around the handle of the mug, and he hastily placed it on his desk before assuming a more lax posture.

  Maddy was too focused on her memories to ponder the waver of his composure. She recalled the last JAMZ session she’d been to, when the two Wackos had barged into the basement. One, apparently named Josh, had knocked out students with his sleep Affinity while the other monstrous Wacko charged at the rest of them. With the help of Avner and Jamad, Maddy had subdued and contained the monster on the mat, but then the teleporter arrived. Tangled with the monster, Maddy had been swept away to the Wackos’ van and transported here. She had no idea a third Wacko had been left in Periculand.

  “I would punish the teleporter, as well,” the man across from her continued now, “since she did nothing to retrieve Naretha either. But, alas, she’s my grandmother, and she has memory issues. I couldn’t punish my dear grandmother for forgetting about Naretha, nor could I punish her for forgetting what Periculand even looks like.

  “If you were curious, that’s why we have not reentered to save Naretha. My grandmother can only teleport to a location she can picture in her mind, and since she has forgotten what Periculand looks like, she can’t go there again. Josh and Boyd were both stupid enough to delete the picture from their phones—that was how she got into the town. Josh took a picture once he was inside; it was a fine plan, until he left Naretha behind.”

  Maddy bit the inside of her lip, tempted to ask more but knowing it wasn’t her place; she was a prisoner here, not a guest. She wanted to know who Boyd was, or more important, why the Wackos had been so eager to kidnap the young primary Hastings Lanio—or even why she had been freed from confinement.

  As if reading her mind, the Wacko smiled slyly and said, “We infiltrated your town to acquire Hastings. You know his Affinity, I’m sure.” Her brow furrowed and he cocked his head with intrigue. “You don’t know? That’s surprising. I assumed he would have told you, considering he’s your cousin.” Maddy’s body went stiffer than it had since before she’d acquired her Affinity. “You didn’t know that, either? Well, this is a day of discovery for you, Madella. Your mother never mentioned her dear sister, Jocosa, Hastings’s mother? You didn’t attend your aunt’s funeral when your young cousin murdered her? Ah—excuse me. Murder does imply willingness. Hastings didn’t mean to kill his mother. It was a fault of his uncontrolled Aff—”

  “H-he killed his mother?” she blurted out, her voice scratching her throat. Speaking felt unnatural after such a lengthy silence, but she couldn’t help her incredulity.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why Hastings was in prison for ten years? I guess you didn’t, since you didn’t seem to care much about him at all.”

  The Wacko basked in his superior knowledge, but this information was too profound for Maddy to be piqued. She had a cousin she’d never spoken to, even though she’d had plenty of opportunities. Did he know? Did he hate her for never reaching out?

  “We wanted Hastings because he has the rare ability to burst blood vessels,” the Wacko informed her, stroking a silver ring on his finger. His tattoos became a distorted blur in Maddy’s vision as she inhaled this startling fact. “We always love to recruit those with…useful Affinities. His first task would have been to tear out the blood of that petty cop, Mitt Telum.

  “Since you’re so oblivious to everything, I assume you’re also unaware that Telum murdered my father in September.” Maddy gaped but was unable to produce a sound. “Yes, I do hate Telum.” His fiery eyes glared beyond her as his hand formed a fist. “I suppose I’ll have the pleasure of eradicating him myself. The only good that came from my father’s death was my own ascension.” He gestured around his office, though there wasn’t much admiration in his sour expression. “My older brother tried to claim the position as leader of the Wackos, of course, but he’s not cut out for leadership.”

  “L-leader? You’re—you’re—”

  “The leader of the Wackos, yes,” he droned, apparently bored of his own title. “My father, Ephraim Mayer, founded our organization—named it Affinities for Freedom. I prefer Wackos. It suits our unique tastes better.

  “In September, my father was raiding an Affinity research facility to free captured Affinities but found it abandoned. He discovered some information on one of the lead researchers, Linda Stark.” Maddy’s shock must have shown, because the Wacko’s grin broadened. “You know the Starks? Young Tray and Seth—my father and his team read all about them in Linda’s files. They decided to pay a visit to her home, perhaps to torture some information out of the rotten Regg. Again, they found it deserted, but Mitt Telum caught them breaking in. My father shot him, but Telum absorbed the bullet and then shot it back out. Punctured my father’s heart—killed him. And, now, here we are; I’m leader of an entire organization of Affinity ‘terrorists’ at the age of twenty-two.”

  Swallowing, Maddy clutched the coffee mug against her chest, letting the warmth comfort her as she prepared her next question. “Where…exactly…are we?”

  “Underground.” He stretched his arms and laced his fingers above his hair, crushing the wave of dazzling flames. Even the undersides of his upper arms were completely inked with tattoos; Maddy quickly deflected her vision when she noticed a pile of skulls within the fire and explosions. “This is the official Wacko Headquarters, set in one of the little cliffs on Lake Erie’s coastline. It’s a miracle no one’s ever noticed it before. My father was a fool for installing this window.” He nodded back toward the glass. “It’s a nice touch aesthetically, though. This office is so plain and unappealing. I think I might hang Telum’s skull right over…there.”

  Maddy’s eyes bulged as he pointed toward an empty spot on the wall beside the bookshelves, and the Wacko chuckled. “There are plenty of other Wacko hideouts throughout the country, if you’re wondering,” he said as he swiveled his chair back and forth. “We’ve infected all of the big cities, though our largest concentrated population dwells here, in this underground lair. Once all the Reggs are dead, I think I’ll relocate to somewhere less dreary, like Washington DC or New York City. Naretha would enjoy living closer to the ocean, with her salt Affinity. Although, judging by her current situation, who knows if she’ll ever make it back here alive? Or if I’ll have the patience to wait that long… Perhaps it’s time to find someone new.”

  It was nearly impossible for Maddy to suppress a shudder as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She hid her discomfort by downing the rest of her coffee. The caffeine had sparked her awareness, but hunger hollowed her stomach. Part of her wished she were still strapped to the metal slab, eating the tasteless food spoon-fed to her by the mysterious silhouette.

  “Is…that why you brought me here?” she asked. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Oh, we’re going to torture you, obviously.”

  She dropped the mug, and it shattered into thick ceramic shards at her bare feet. One thinner piece stabbed her big toe, but she hardly felt it. “I-I don’t have any information. I don’t know any—”

  “Only joking, Madella.” He sighed, leaning over his desk to see the mess. “You have destroyed one of my favorite mugs, though, so maybe I should torture you… Still joking,” he added when he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. “We wouldn’t torture you. No, no. You’re an Affinity—you’re one of us.” She wanted to point out that he already had tortured her, but her heart beat too fast for her brain to focus. “Besides, I don’t think my brother would let me, since he’s become quite fond of you.”

  Blinking back the wetness, she fought to comprehend his words.
“B-brother?”

  “The scrawny thing that’s been feeding you? That’s my brother, Zach,” he clarified, eyes glowing mischievously. “As I’ve said before, he’s not the leader type—too soft, too sentimental. He’s got a freaking cleaning Affinity, as if that should exist…”

  A faint smile surfaced as she recalled the way her feeder, Zach, had made disgusted noises when touching her dirty skin. Of course someone with an Affinity for cleanliness would find her state of hygiene fouler than anyone else. “What’s…your name?”

  “Danny,” he responded, kicking his feet onto his desk. His shoes were much too formal for his otherwise casual attire. “Danny Mayer, the Wackiest Wacko, I’ve been told—though I’m certain there are plenty of freaks here who could claim that title.”

  Maddy had barely heard a word he’d said after his name because the sound of padding feet caught her ear. When she glanced down at the source, she saw a tiny white-furred dog scampering over the shards from her coffee cup. It growled up at her in a way that was oddly cute.

  “Come here, you little bastard,” Danny groaned. The dog scurried around the desk and sprung into his lap with an impressive amount of agility for its small stature. Even though it had walked over the sharp ceramic fragments, it didn’t have any injuries.

  “He—he walked over the splinters…”

  “He’s not the most cautious.” Danny stroked the little dog’s silky hair. “That’s probably how he gained his Affinity.”

  “Affinity?”

  Haughtiness entered the man’s vibrant eyes as he lifted his chin. “They never told you animals could gain Affinities in Periculand? What a shame dear old Angor has sheltered you so. But yes, little Shards has an Affinity for sharp objects. We’ve even stabbed him and he’s been okay. He just absorbs whatever punctures his skin—like Mitt Telum does, probably.”

  Maddy eyed the dog warily, wondering if Danny spoke the truth or if this, along with everything he’d said to her, was a story he’d fabricated.

 

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