Nerve

by Kirsten Krueger

  “God, what the hell is this?” Nixie exclaimed from ahead as she pried splinters from the netting of her sleeves. “You Wackos are sick! You’re gonna force me to drown a freakin’ puppy?”

  “Looks like you’re on the wrong side, Nixie!” a familiar voice sang. Lavisa didn’t believe it until she spotted Jamad Solberg sprinting after the dog, throwing casts of ice around his former peers’ feet…in order to help the Wackos.

  “Join the Wackos, everyone!” he beckoned whimsically, even as he attacked his old acquaintances with ice. “We have adorably evil dogs!”

  He wasn’t killing anyone, but Lavisa’s blood still boiled at the knowledge that he’d betrayed Periculand—that he’d joined the terrorists.

  Knowing she wouldn’t stand a chance if he managed to sheathe any of her limbs in ice, Lavisa crouched and then wove through the crowd of clustered Affinities, a small knife now in either hand. No one had mustered the courage to challenge him, so he slowed his pace, projecting sheets of ice onto the ground around him, forming a slippery moat.

  A crafty grin tugged at Lavisa’s lips. Before Jamad could complete his moat, she sprung out of the throng, landing lightly and gliding across the ice. By the time she’d reached Jamad, he’d noticed her, but there wasn’t enough time for him to turn and fight her; Lavisa’s blade had already sliced through his calf, provoking an enraged cry.

  The tough black leather he wore prevented the knife from cutting deep, but blood dripped onto the ice at his feet—and blood swelled in his face, a sign of his fury. He would pelt her with a torrent of ice crystals, and the little dog, positioned beyond the frozen moat, would shower her in shards of glass.

  Except Lavisa hadn’t slowed down. With her momentum and her skating strides, she slammed her foot into the dog’s side before it could generate an attack. The animal whizzed through the air, yelping in a way that made her feel a little guilty—until she glanced around at all the people extracting glass from their flesh.

  Now planted on the pavement, she rotated back toward where Jamad stood at the center of the icy surface. In the few seconds she’d taken to survey the crowd, he’d conjured a fleet of icicles, and Lavisa was their target.

  Her body tensed, preparing to duck, dodge, and deflect. It seemed unlikely she’d evade all impalement, but she’d taken stab wounds in the past. She would simply have to make sure they hit spots that would inflict the least injury. There were only seconds to consider how she would have to move, but her brain in battle was as swift as her body. As long as she could predict the outcomes of outside forces, she could react adequately.

  She hadn’t expected Tray to jump in front of her, though.

  There wasn’t time to shove him out of the way. The storm of ice was upon them, and all Tray did to defend himself was shield his face with his arms.

  Icicles overwhelmed them—or him, more accurately. Being larger than her, Tray took on the full brunt of the assault. Not even the smallest splinter grazed her.

  The impact of the blows knocked him back into her, and she hastily caught him, her arms wedged beneath his armpits. Peering over his shoulder, half in a daze, Lavisa expected to see his white suit stained red, but the ice hadn’t left a mark on the fabric. The icicles lay on the ground at his feet, as if the needle-sharp spikes had bounced off his body.

  “That’s some heavy-duty fleece you’ve got there, Stark,” she remarked with much less sarcasm than she’d intended. The absolute impossibility of it had set her into a state of shock. She’d known his suit wasn’t ordinary, but she hadn’t thought it was Affinity-proof. That he’d protected her with such confidence and knew to shield his face implied he had been very well aware.

  Scrambling out of her grasp, Tray stood and straightened his half-burnt sweater indignantly. “Don’t get sassy with me—I saved you!”

  “You also lied to me,” she said, but the accusation was halfhearted. Fighting had resumed all around campus, and Jamad skated toward them as the dog closed in from behind.

  “I want to kick it but I don’t,” Tray griped as they assumed a back-to-back position, leaving him to fight the dog while Lavisa faced Jamad.

  “Mm, I know the feeling,” she hummed, raising her knives. After his failure with the long-range attack, Jamad had produced two picks of ice that he wielded in either hand, perfect for close combat—Lavisa’s favorite.

  Tray seemingly succumbed to kicking the little beast, because Lavisa heard its familiar yelp as her opponent stepped into her proximity. She knew the magic-like properties of Jamad’s Affinity would make this a tricky fight, so she aimed to distract him by exacting quick, unpredictable swings. Preoccupied with her relentless assault, he wouldn’t be able to procure a sneak attack of ice.

  Something else stole his focus as Lavisa slashed at his leather and jabbed her limbs into his. His pale blue eyes kept scanning the area as if waiting for something…or looking for someone. It continued to the point that she was annoyed he wasn’t giving his full attention to the scuffle. She could have easily killed him. She could have stabbed him in the heart ten times throughout the brawl. But she didn’t want to kill him, and she almost felt silly about fighting with such intensity while he lazed through it.

  “Is Avner here?” he finally asked, the casualness of his tone jolting her backward.

  “Is—” She halted her speech and movements, only able to blink as he met her eyes with an innocence that hadn’t previously been there. “I thought Avner was with you.”

  “He was, but…” Jamad discarded one of his icicles to rub his forehead in exasperation. “I figured he would come here to try and thwart all this, but…he’s not here. Is Zeela here, at least?”

  Lavisa’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought Zeela was also with you. So, you joined the Wackos but they didn’t.”

  “The Wackos aren’t as bad as everyone claims,” Jamad began to say, but then he noticed the way Lavisa’s eyes swept the scene with dry disbelief.

  “No? That’s funny, because it looks like the Wackos are hurting innocent people just to apprehend one person.” She stashed her knives and crossed her arms, knowing that even if Jamad tried to hurt her he would fail. For once, Lavisa actually wanted to talk more than she wanted to fight, and she knew he would be more truthful if she gave the impression of surrender. “Why are you fighting for them? This is your home. How can you watch it burn?”

  There was pain on his face when he glanced sidelong at the Physicals Building, but the stiffness of his stance indicated he hadn’t quite yielded. “I just thought that…if I could turn my back on Periculand, it’d be easier to turn my back on my parents, when the time comes—Another long story,” he added when he saw the befuddlement written on her face. “But then Danny blew up the gate and—and I knew I couldn’t do it. So I tried staying in the van, but then Shards got loose and I had to chase him—that little monster has some serious bloodlust—”

  “AGH! For the love of knowledge!” Tray swore from behind. More intrigued than panicked, Lavisa spun around to find he had a shard of glass wedged in his forehead, oozing blood into his eyes. “I’m bleeding!”

  “Clearly,” Lavisa intoned as she stepped toward him and plucked the fragment from his skin. He groaned in agony and she rolled her eyes. “It’s a superficial wound, Stark. Get over it.”

  Tray continued grumbling, but the dog seemed not to think it had hurt him enough. Sharp slivers ejected from its fur, embedding in Lavisa’s and even Jamad’s skin now. Sighing, she took a second reluctant strike at the dog, punting him with enough force that he didn’t rise when he landed.

  “Whose dog is that and why does it have an Affinity?” she demanded.

  Jamad grimaced. “Danny’s.”

  “You killed the psychopath’s dog!” Tray exclaimed in horror. “He’s going to level this place now—ow!”

  “Are you stuttering? Compose yourself before you—”

  “No—I just got stung,” he moaned, tilting his head to show a massive stinger had pierced the side of his th
roat. It looked like a bee stinger—but from a bee larger than that dog.

  Lavisa grunted, clutching her arm, only to find she’d been gifted with her very own stinger. With only a t-shirt on her torso, her arms were exposed, and the stinger had rooted deep into her flesh, morphing it into a dark, angry, red welt.

  That alone might have induced an involuntary sense of nausea, but what really overpowered Lavisa’s brain with dizziness was the little red bumps popping on her arm, spreading to her torso and then, within a few seconds, her entire body. Even with the stinger in Tray’s neck, such a sensitive spot, he didn’t have this severe of a reaction.

  “You were supposed to make sure Shards didn’t get hurt, you noob!” a female voice shouted, but Lavisa couldn’t locate its origin. The pounding in her head impaired her vision, and the swelling of her limbs made her joints buckle in a way that was unnatural for her.

  “I’m not a noob!” Jamad yelled back from somewhere to Lavisa’s left. “And you shouldn’t have stung them!”

  “We are in a battle!” the unfamiliar girl retorted, her voice growing closer. All Lavisa could see was an array of moving blobs. “If Shards is dead, Danny’s gonna murder us!”

  “That dog is invincible,” Jamad insisted.

  “He’s the size of a large rat!”

  “Hey!” a voice barked, and Lavisa was surprised to recognize it as Tray’s. Never had he sounded so aggressive. He yanked the stinger out of his throat and hurling it at the person who had just joined them—a girl with bright yellow hair. Her features were indistinguishable, but Lavisa was still lucid enough to witness Tray wrap his fingers around her neck. “Look at what you did to her!” It took Lavisa a moment to realize he was referring to her. “She’s going into anaphylactic shock! Fix her!”

  “Your girlfriend will be fine,” the girl dismissed. “I used to be severely allergic to bees and look at me now: I can shoot stingers out of my skin. Maybe she’ll end up with the same Affinity as—”

  “She already has an Affinity,” Tray snarled, and he must have tightened his clutch on her throat because a little yip emitted from her mouth.

  “Oh, well, then, that’s unfortunate for—”

  A choking sound ensued—just as Lavisa dropped to her knees, the pounding in her skull too intense for her to remain upright. Bile rose in her throat and every part of her body felt like it was on fire, but she had to get up—Tray was about to murder this girl.

  “Alyssa!” That must have been Jamad, but he sounded more agitated than alarmed. “Just extract the venom already, will you? Stark’s got a super strength Affinity. He’ll crush—”

  “Stark?” the girl repeated, her volume rising with excitement even though it was strained. “You’re one of the Starks? Oh, Danny will want you.”

  “Speaking of what Danny wants,” a smooth voice interjected as a new member joined their strange circle. Lavisa inclined her head as much as she could and tried to discern the man’s features. Black hair…with some blue…thin stature, bored expression—and then Tray plummeted to the ground, landing beside her, unconscious. Josh, then. “He’s on the way back from the police station. We’re to cease fighting and start grabbing hostages. We’ll see if Ashna wants this entire town to go extinct. Killing is now permitted.”

  “Oh, and it wasn’t permitted before?” Alyssa questioned.

  Even with her blurry vision, Lavisa saw how piqued Josh was. After a moment of silence, he looked away from Alyssa like she was some inconsequential insect. “Spread the word. Everything needs to be in place once Danny returns to campus.”

  His eyes cut to Lavisa then, the black and blue irises as clear as if she stood directly in front of him. There wasn’t kindness in them, but there wasn’t cruelty either, only mercy, as was reflected in his next action. Because, even though she’d avoided him earlier, the numbness of Josh’s incapacitating Affinity—an exemption from the physical and emotional pain that was sure to increase—was a gracious gift she gladly gave in to.

  38

  Manipulation and Control Pt. 2

  “Your girlfriend’s a bitch, you know,” Hartman said as he stared up at his stepbrother. “I offered her my friendship and she declined. Guess I can’t expect you to have a decent taste in—”

  “One more word,” Nero grunted as he climbed a mound of wreckage, “and I’ll pull your larynx out of your throat.”

  “You know what a larynx is?” Hartman thought to Eliana in a theatrical mental voice. That’s what I’d ask him if he wasn’t being so moody.

  She wondered if there was ever a time when Nero wasn’t being moody. Luckily, he plunged onward ahead of her, oblivious to the faint smirk on her lips and the mental quips Hartman had sent her throughout their trek across the ruined Physicals Building. Hartman was one comment away from his death, and Eliana definitely didn’t want to add to Nero’s agitation.

  The moment she’d seen the building blow, there hadn’t been any hesitation in running to search for Hartman. Running was probably a generous term; it’d been more like a quick hobble because of the wound in her calf, soaking the bottom half of her jeans in blood. The throbbing had been unpleasant, but she couldn’t fathom Hartman’s death. He wasn’t her favorite person in Periculand, but after spending time with him over the past few months, she’d developed an odd sort of fondness for him.

  Now, as they neared the exit, rubble continued to shower from above in random increments, some partially obstructing their path. Eliana welcomed any delay in their departure from the building—their submersion in the battle. She’d blocked out the emotional anguish pressing on her mind, but it was impossible to close her ears to the sounds of destruction and death weaving through Periculand. By Nero’s unexpected mercy, Hartman had survived, but what if Tray, Lavisa, or Ackerly had died? Or…Kiki? She’d barely had enough time to cope with the reality of Hastings’s death; she couldn’t endure another tragedy.

  Struggling to hide her limp, Eliana followed Nero through the glass doors, immersing them in a town glimmering with various shades of flame. The Naturals Building was partially ablaze, and beyond that, the front gate retained remnants of its initial inferno. Somehow, the Residence Tower had remained unscathed, and Eliana hoped Kiki was secured safely behind its walls, especially when she saw the campus’s courtyard was strewn with bodies. Many of the students had fought, and many had fallen. A few still stood, but the ratio between mobile Wackos and mobile students was not in Periculand’s favor.

  As they neared the dwindling action, Eliana noticed Nixie leading the Periculand force, and she sensed Nero’s displeasure at the sight. Before she could trace the origin of his irritation, a dark arrow shot through the air, wedging deep in the muscles of his right arm.

  At the unanticipated pain, he dropped Hartman, causing the younger Corvis to smack the pavement and then bellow about the agony his rear end now experienced. Eliana’s brain ran through various plans of escape, but three Wackos had already rushed to detain them. A girl with sunflower yellow hair grabbed her upper arm, equally bright eyes surveying Nero with satisfaction.

  “I must say, that was a damn good shot,” the girl mused. As the three Wackos dragged—literally, in Hartman’s case—them toward the center of the dying battle, Eliana realized it wasn’t an arrow the girl had attacked with: It was an abnormally giant bee stinger, and Nero’s footsteps had turned lethargic as a result.

  “Wh-what’s going on?” Eliana asked, infusing her tone with feeble innocence, which wasn’t particularly difficult.

  “Danny’s on his way here, and you guys are his hostages,” the yellow-haired Wacko told her, almost bitterly. “I would refrain from talking unless you want one of these.” With her free hand, she motioned toward her swollen and purple nose. For some reason, Eliana feared a broken nose was Danny’s most humane form of punishment.

  Once all conscious Affinities were stationed in a circle near the base of the Residence Tower, Eliana noticed with relief that none of her friends were present. If Danny planned to use
Periculand’s citizens as collateral, she didn’t want any of her friends to become a disposable means to the Wacko leader’s desired end.

  “Josh,” Danny snapped as he stalked into the circle, his previous charm abandoned. Naretha followed him like a soldier, emotionless and numb despite the scratches on her face and the thick sheet of dust coating her leather garments. “Where’s Smith?”

  “Unconscious. Over there.” Josh’s blue-tipped mohawk bobbed when he jerked his chin toward the Naturals Building.

  Danny’s mouth settled in a tight line, but an outburst didn’t ensue. “Who else’s screams will draw my sister out of hiding?” This was more of a question for himself, one he posed as his gaze swept the crowd. It was a miracle he didn’t spot the three people sleuthing around the outskirts.

  Granted, the only reason Eliana knew they were present was because she sensed their consciousnesses. Josh should have been able to as well, but perhaps without the emotion-detecting aspect Eliana possessed, he couldn’t discern one mind from another. To him, the three brains could have easily belonged to Wackos. To Eliana, they very clearly belonged to Ackerly, Ashna, and Naira.

  Was this why Ackerly had disappeared earlier—to help with the girls’ mysterious mission? The Wackos were too absorbed in their leader to notice him awkwardly scouting the assembly, which would have relieved Eliana if he weren’t working for Ashna. Through his open mind, she detected him formulating a plan to rescue Periculanders, but why? Did Ashna hope to apprehend the students for her own leverage purposes? Or did she hope to remove the innocent Affinities and unleash her multiple Affinities on the Wackos?

  “We’ll start with the cripple,” Danny announced, stalking to where Hartman slumped on the ground. “I know how my sister adores the weak.”