Nerve

by Kirsten Krueger

  Eyelids fluttering, her blue eyes squinted up as Kiki dropped to her knees, lifting Eliana’s head beneath one hand and cupping her cheek with the other.

  “Eliana?” she whispered, her voice high-pitched with worry. “Eliana—”

  “Wh-what’s going on?” she croaked, brow screwed in befuddlement.

  “N-nothing.” Kiki swallowed, attempting to relax her posture before she repeated a firmer, “Nothing.”

  Forehead still wrinkled, Eliana sat upright, disentangling from her roommate. With quivering fingers, she felt the back of her head and then slowly rotated toward Kiki in disbelief. “Did you just…assault me?”

  “No—no—I would never—how could you think—”

  “How could I think you have little regard for others’ feelings when you’ve spent your entire life bullying Adara and Tray?” Kiki had never witnessed such a dark, cold expression on Eliana’s face, and it scared her more than the crazed drawing had. “How could I think you have no problem with physical aggression when you climbed on top of me and then acted like—”

  Although Kiki knew where this was going, she was unsatisfied when Eliana suddenly cut herself off, her vision suddenly fixing on a point in the distance. Following her gaze, Kiki found her staring at the fallen chair and the pencils splayed across the floor. Then Kiki’s dissatisfaction shifted into anxiety.

  “No—Eliana—” she pleaded as her roommate stood, padding toward the desk as if enveloped by another trance. Scrambling to her feet, Kiki attempted to wedge herself between Eliana and the desk, but her eyes were already locked on the drawing, her body rigid and paralyzed by the sight that lay before her.

  “What is this?” she asked as she gradually registered the flames, the body, that one white eye.

  “You…you drew it. You wouldn’t stop drawing it. I had to…use force to…”

  Eliana clearly wasn’t listening; she merely gawked at the image of her sister dying in those flames. Then, as if the truth finally smacked her, she hiccupped and allowed the tears to flow. “Zeela…”

  Kiki bit her lip, watching as Eliana hugged herself and breathed incoherent mumbles. Whenever Kiki was upset, she liked to isolate herself—to see if anyone cared enough to seek her out—but Eliana didn’t need to be sought out: she was right here, and all Kiki had to do was reach out and comfort her. How could she justify touching her now, though, when their last physical encounter had led to uncertainty and disconnect?

  Maybe none of the outside factors and previous problems really mattered now—the note they’d found in Than’s office, the mind controlling witch ruling this town, the confusing feelings that had developed within Kiki… All of that seemed trivial when confronted with the fact that Zeela Mensen would die.

  Extending a tentative hand, Kiki caressed her shoulder, brushing her fingers gently across the black dots. Despite Eliana’s emotional coldness, her skin was warm, and Kiki was met with the urge to embrace her completely—to wrap her arms around her neck and hold her as she cried.

  Eliana’s urge was of a different nature; instead of leaning into Kiki’s touch, she shied away, whirling around with violence in her eyes. The hue of the irises had faded even in the last week, now a pale cerulean instead of the brighter cobalt they had been. Kiki found herself utterly entranced by them, even with the flames of Zeela’s death burning in the darkness of her pupils.

  “You did this,” Eliana said with creepy calmness. Kiki’s brain didn’t comprehend her words until she pointed aggressively at the drawing. “You gave me this knowledge of the future, and there’s nothing I can do to erase it—nothing I can do to prevent it. My sister is going to die—she could already be dead! And now it’s permanent because you predicted it!”

  Kiki’s heart pounded faster with every accusation, her defensiveness overthrowing all affection for this girl. “It’s not my fault your sister will die! I can’t control the future!”

  Eliana sniffled—not pitifully but viciously, her eyes still slivered with animosity. “You can’t control anything, not even yourself. I bet you can influence the future, and because you’re a spiteful, selfish person, the world’s going to crumble into chaos.”

  Ignoring the jab, Kiki tightened her jaw and ground out, “You drew Zeela alive in the fire before. How do we know this drawing is true instead of that one? We should explore this. We should try to figure this out.”

  “No!” Eliana snapped, oblivious to the water leaking from her eyes. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you and your diseased mind. You’re a plague to me—you’re a plague to everyone! I want nothing to do with it.”

  Kiki felt as if a claw of truth had slashed through her chest, but she brushed off the pain, just as she’d brushed off every insult that had ever ripped through her. Spinning on her heel, she stalked to her bed, snatching her skirt from where she’d thrown it. Looking at the soft blue color only reminded her of Eliana, and the fabric now felt brittle between her fingers. Hating her Affinity—and hating herself—Kiki hurled the skirt toward the closet and then marched out of their room, leaving Eliana to mourn alone.

  Her first instinct was to stomp to Seth’s room and yell at him irrationally before kicking him out of his own dorm and claiming it as her own quiet spot. But Seth was her ex-boyfriend, a fact of which she constantly had to remind herself, and he had a roommate now who might not appreciate her barging in and barking orders.

  Who else could she go to, though? Eliana was her only friend here, her only friend anywhere…and she had ruined that relationship. They were meant to be friends, Kiki thought, but maybe their brief time of companionship had already ended. Maybe Kiki did have a negative effect on the future simply by being a bitter, bitchy person.

  Hearing the sounds of chatter below, Kiki decided she didn’t want to be alone. The best way to cope with the emotional distress would be to distract herself. So, without her shimmery makeup or cute miniskirt, she waltzed down the spiral staircase to immerse herself in the clamor of Nero’s birthday party.

  Most of Periculand’s students had gathered in the lounge. The handsome bully was nowhere to be seen, but Kiki did spot one of his groupies hauling a box of bottles across the room—the acid-spitter, Dave. He appeared to have climbed out of a hole in the floor that led to what Kiki assumed was the basement beneath the tower, the existence of which she hadn’t been aware. Apparently, Nero and his gang knew of it, and they’d stored alcohol down there for quite some time, judging by the mountain of boxes now piled against the wall.

  None of the other students dared approach the booze yet, and Dave was the only one moving boxes at the moment. As Kiki observed his neon green hair, she realized for the first time that he was actually mildly attractive. Nothing compared to Seth or Nero or Calder, but he was certainly better than that geeky green-haired boy, Ackerly, who now entered the lounge with rainbow princess Ashna at his side. Positioned at the bottom of the staircase, Kiki wondered if Dave’s acid would burn her lips if she tried to kiss him. A twisted, broken part of her almost enjoyed the prospect that he could burn her—that he could match her emotional turmoil with something physical.

  “Hey, Kiki,” a nasally voice greeted, and Kiki blinked out of her aberrant thoughts to find the geeky green kid had approached her—and talked to her.

  She gave an exaggerated eye roll. “What do you want?”

  “I, um—Have you seen Tray around…anywhere?” Ackerly asked, eyes roving the lounge behind his glasses. Ashna stood at his side, studying the room with the smile of an innocent child but the gaze of a cunning adult.

  “I don’t keep tabs on that loser.” Kiki flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Go find him yourself.”

  Ackerly didn’t stutter at her harsh words; instead, his vision fixated on the boxes Dave stacked, and his brow furrowed. “What’s…going on?”

  “Nero’s throwing a party since those Reggs left. I would advise you two children go hide away upstairs before it gets too intense,” Kiki said, flicking her fingers toward the stairs. As
hna’s demure demeanor soured into hostility at the word “children.”

  “The Rosses left?” Ackerly repeated. “Where’d they go?”

  “To deal with Adara,” Lavisa drawled as she approached their little huddle. As usual, her drab yellow hair was contained in two unflattering braids, and she wore a dark t-shirt and baggy pants that made her look like a five-year-old boy. With Kiki’s building aggravation, she felt inclined to use one of the moves they’d learned in training on her—until she remembered Lavisa’s Affinity was literally to annihilate people. She decided she would use her verbal skills of combat instead.

  “God, you’re here and you’re talking about Adara.” Lavisa simply arched her ugly yellow eyebrows, so Kiki added, “Can you go somewhere else?”

  With a dismissive eyebrow jump, Lavisa turned to Ackerly. “The Rosses thought it would be a good idea to let Adara go on live television. You can imagine it went poorly. They’re at the police station now, and Nero’s taking the opportunity to throw a party for his own birthday, which, conveniently, is tomorrow.”

  “The Rosses are at the police station?” Ackerly’s shoulders slumped. “Ashna and I were planning to visit Adara before her trial tomorrow.”

  Kiki gripped the stair railing. “Adara’s trial is tomorrow?”

  “Did you not hear Tray ranting about it all day today?” Lavisa asked flatly.

  “I don’t listen to anything that nerd says,” Kiki sneered, lifting her chin. “I don’t feel like listening to anything you have to say, either. If you’re all gonna be a bunch of boring dweebs, don’t bother hanging around and ruining this party for the cool people.”

  “You’ve really perfected the ‘high school diva’ act, haven’t you?” Ashna quipped, causing Ackerly’s eyes to bulge in fear.

  A sly grin spread across Lavisa’s lips. “Indeed she has.”

  Kiki emitted an affronted noise even though their comments had no real effect on her. Being a diva in these girls’ opinions was nothing compared to being a spiteful, selfish person in Eliana’s. Still, she’d had enough of these losers’ presence; stomping her foot, she twirled around and stalked through the lounge, approaching the acid-spitter as he continued to arrange boxes.

  “Hello, David,” she purred as she stepped beside him and leaned against the stack of boxes, batting her eyelashes at him. Pausing his work, his lime green eyes shifted toward her and scowled.

  “Little Belven,” he greeted, his voice as acidic as his skin. The clear residue shone on his arm, prepared for an attack.

  “Don’t get so hostile with me, David. Stop acting like Nero’s puppet and get your own personality.”

  His fists clenched around the box he held. “No one here calls me David. Only my mother calls me David.”

  “Aw, that’s cute,” Kiki crooned, running her finger down the sleeve of his white t-shirt, “but I’m not here to talk about your mom—”

  “If you want the booze, you have to wait for Nero.” He angled his head back toward the secret hole. “All this is his, and he’s not just givin’ it out to anyone.”

  “I don’t want your stupid beer, David. I want you.” Taking a step closer, she brought her lips toward his ear, hovering a centimeter away as he remained frozen. “I want to taste your acid—”

  “You want to taste acid?” a voice rumbled, jolting Kiki away from Dave. When her eyes cut to the left, she found Nero ambling toward them, three boxes nestled effortlessly in his arms. “I knew you were dumb, Little Belven, but I didn’t know you were suicidal.”

  “I’m not suicidal,” she defended instantly. “I wouldn’t swallow it. I just want to experience everything I can, okay?”

  “Be patient, Little Belven. This party will be an experience to remember.” Nero dropped the boxes and unfolded the lid on the topmost one to rummage within. His affability swiftly dwindled as he pulled out his empty hands. “There’re only two bottles in here. Someone’s been stealing from my stash.”

  Slowly, his head pivoted toward Dave, whose face had paled nearly as white as his shirt.

  “I-I don’t know who would have done that.”

  “No?” Nero challenged. “You and Demira haven’t been sneaking into the basement to get drunk and bang?”

  “N-no—I haven’t done anything with Demira in ages, I swear—”

  Nero thrust his hand forward to wrap it around Dave’s neck, but Kiki jumped in front of the acid-spitter first, crossing her arms and glaring at Nero’s palm, suspended before her nose.

  “I don’t care if you beat this kid up,” she said, peering through his fingers to meet his harsh eyes, “but I would like him to be capable of banging me afterward.”

  Nero’s nose twitched as he glanced between them. “You…want to…”

  “Just because you don’t want to have sex with me doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t. I’d venture to say that practically everyone else does.”

  Though Nero snorted, he did lower his hand, eyeing Kiki warily. “I don’t want to display discord between me and my inferiors—it’ll look bad. So have him. I’m sure I’ll find your corpse afterward. The only reason Demira doesn’t die after screwing him is because that girl’s probably a freakin’ robot.”

  “I think I can handle a little bit of acidity,” Kiki assured him, cocking her head to the side.

  “Someone deserves a fist to the face for this, though,” Nero growled, his dark eyes sweeping the lounge. The first person they landed on stood a few paces away, still conversing with wretched Lavisa and judgmental Ashna.

  With a maniacal grin spreading across his face, Nero prowled toward the staircase, his reverberating footsteps alerting Ackerly and the two girls of his approach. Guilt surged through Kiki’s gut; she’d saved the acid-spitter by pretending to be infatuated with him, but in the process she’d doomed Ackerly to a ruthless flogging. Maybe Eliana was right; maybe Kiki altered everyone’s fate for the worst.

  “Plant kid.”

  “H-h-h-hi,” Ackerly stuttered, already cowering.

  “It appears there’s a shortage of beer,” Nero explained as he cracked his knuckles. “Someone needs to take the blame.”

  “Leave him alone, Nero,” Lavisa cut in, slipping between the boys as she rolled her wrists.

  The brute’s sadistic smirk stretched wider, not at all intimidated by her threat. “Oh good, I get to beat up two primies tonight. What a wonderful birthday gift. Should I start with you, Little Dispus?”

  Lavisa assumed a fighting stance. “As long as it’s fair.”

  Fair definitely wasn’t part of Nero’s vocabulary; the sentence barely left her mouth before he swung at her temple. The agile girl dipped down and swept her leg in a horizontal arc toward his ankle. He stumbled with the impact but didn’t relent, reaching down to grab her yellow braid. Heaving her up by her hair, Nero bared his teeth in a grin as Lavisa gritted her teeth in pain.

  “Ready to fly across the lounge, Little Dispus?”

  “No,” she said, swiftly slamming her flattened hand into the side of his neck.

  Even with the thickness of his muscles, he felt the blow, releasing her immediately and staggering back. After raising his fists as if to dole another punch, Nero tricked Lavisa by lunging to the left and wrapping his hand around Ackerly’s throat, halting her mid-strike and invoking gasps from spectators.

  Kiki was petrified where she stood, dread washing over her at the prospect that she’d unintentionally led to two deaths in one day. Ackerly wheezed and Lavisa gaped and Ashna—Ashna had clearly lost her mind. Because as Nero threatened to choke the life out of Ackerly, she placed a hand on his bulging forearm, drawing his animalistic attention toward her.

  “Don’t—don’t hurt him,” she pleaded breathlessly. “I can give you what you want. I-I have…an alcohol Affinity.”

  His hold on Ackerly’s neck gradually loosened as he processed her words. “You…what?”

  Swallowing, Ashna removed her hand from Nero’s arm and stiffened her posture. “I have an alcohol
Affinity. I can…produce alcoholic beverages. I can replenish your…stash,” she added, eyes darting toward the numerous boxes lining the wall behind Kiki.

  “Prove it,” Nero huffed, maintaining his grasp on Ackerly.

  Licking her lips, Ashna extended her arm and cupped her hand. As Kiki inched closer to the scene she realized a tiny pool of clear liquid had formed in the girl’s palm. “Taste it.”

  “What if it’s poison?”

  “I’ll try it,” Lavisa sighed as she dipped her finger into the liquid. That Ashna hadn’t stopped her should have been enough proof, but Nero wasn’t convinced until Lavisa had tasted it without keeling over. “Vodka, I think. I’ve never been much of a drinker.”

  Freeing Ackerly, Nero took an assertive step toward Ashna and forcefully poked his finger into her palm. After tasting the substance, his lips curved upward, and somehow, standing only inches from him, the girl managed not to recoil.

  “You do have an alcohol Affinity,” he declared with satisfaction. His tone hadn’t been particularly loud, but others had heard, and whispers trailed throughout the lounge. Kiki couldn’t remember anyone mentioning to her specifically what Ashna’s Affinity was, but she was baffled to discover it was the ability to produce alcoholic drinks. Why couldn’t Kiki have gotten a useful Affinity like that rather than one that provoked disparity and death and destruction?

  “Well then,” Nero started, eyeing Ashna like she was his newest pet, “looks like we’ll have a party after all. Mardurus, get up here!” he shouted toward the hole, resulting in Calder’s head popping out of the floor. His expression remained languid, even when Nero’s transformed with giddy delight. “Let’s begin the festivities, shall we?”

  31

  Revelations

  “Never have I ever…murdered a teenage boy,” Adara stated, waving her hand in Angor’s direction. “Put a finger down, Your Majesty. We all know you’re a—what did they call you—a blood-vessel-bursting-beast?”

  “I believe you’re the first person to have called me that, actually,” Angor said, refusing to lower a finger. Since Fraco’s biased questions—all of which Adara knew had come straight from the Reggs’ mouths—had failed, she’d sparked a game of Never Have I Ever with the former principal, alluding to the same accusations the media tried to pin on him.