Sometimes he felt that his gift didn’t just influence other people—but the entire universe. Everything unfolded the way he wanted. Or actually, even better. Nish and Kris were having a huge argument; they had been so close for so long that he never thought it possible. But now the bomb had gone off. This night. It was perfect. Fucking perfect.
Zebediah walked over to the dark-haired boy still sitting all alone by himself. His irises glowed like embers.
“Stay the fuck away from me or I’ll gouge your eyes out.” Three blood-red crystals stuck out between his fingers like Wolverine's claws.
“Always such a ray of sunshine.” Zebediah ignored the threat and sat down next to him. “You’d better listen to what I say first, or you’ll lose more than your best friend tonight.”
Kris snapped his head up.
The boy had a lot of potential. He was willing to do a lot for something he believed in. Kris only had one massive weakness: the hyperactive curly-haired guy. A weakness Zebediah would exploit to the fullest. “I need two things from you. A gun and a lockpick set.”
Kris stared at him. “You’re insane.”
Zebediah chuckled. “Is that news to you?”
“Why the hell do you think I’d do that for you?”
“Because your boyfriend has been lying in bed, suffering for the last three hours, and you’ll be burying him by the end of the week if I don’t give you the antidote.” He smiled darkly. “Thank your buddy Nish for the distraction tonight. I bet your lover has been crying out your name for hours. If that doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”
. . .
Kris felt like he had stepped into a ravine, with the crushing bottom rushing toward him at a terrifying speed. Every part of him screamed to get up and run to the Lions’ campus, but a sliver of common sense reminded him that it was Zebediah he was talking to. It was his hobby to mess with people. “Then I’ll take him to the infirmary.”
“And they won’t find anything. I need those things, Kris. Don’t think anyone there can cure him, I’ve made sure of that. You’ll only risk them writing him off. Mysterious illnesses are often marked down as failed experiments.”
Kris clenched his teeth. That had happened before, indeed. “Then I’ll let them read my memories, and they’ll know you poisoned him.”
“Well, I didn’t do it myself, of course. I like to keep my hands clean. But even if you do that—what do you think they’ll do? I’m the headmaster’s son. They’re not sending me away. And besides—do you really want them digging through your memories, Kris? I’m sure they’ll find some things that... won’t exactly sit well with them. And it won’t spare your precious boyfriend from his tragic fate either.”
His insides froze. Kris wanted to shove the shards between his fingers into Zebediah’s face, rip his entire body open, but he knew it would be the end of not just him but also Fox. That bastard had him completely cornered.
“Fine,” he growled. “You win. Give me the antidote.”
Zebediah huffed. “You know that’s not how it works. First the items. Then the antidote. Tick-tock.”
Zebediah stood up, slid his hands into his pockets, and strolled away.
Panic surged through Kris. Was Fox really that sick? Tears welled up in his eyes. More than ever, he needed a friend—and he had just lost his best friend. There was no one else he could trust with this. He jumped to his feet and started running, paying no attention to security or anyone else. He wanted only one thing, and that was to know if Zebediah was bluffing or if Fox had really been in pain for hours.
Kris closed the door to Fox’s room behind him. It was dark. He raised a thick crystal wall in the middle of the room so Ghost wouldn’t wake up and then sank down on the edge of Fox’s bed. His heart was pounding, and his fingers trembled as he reached for the bedside lamp.
Fox was curled up in bed, facing the wall with his blankets tightly wrapped around him. Now that the light was on, he turned around. His face was pale, and his curls stuck to his head, yet he managed a small smile.
“Hey,” he said hoarsely. “Is the party over already?”
Kris ran his hand through Fox’s damp curls. It felt like his heart was in a vice. That filthy bastard had really done it. He had poisoned Fox. Kris was so furious that he wanted to march straight to the Rhinos and nail Zebediah to his bed for good, but it wouldn’t help.
He had to do what Zebediah wanted. Fox’s life wasn’t something to bargain over.
“A party without you is no fun,” he said, trying to push his fear behind a wall of crystal. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his pants, and slid under the covers next to Fox. “How do you feel?” He stroked his ice-cold face with the back of his fingers.
“I’m so cold,” he whispered. “I already grabbed extra blankets.”
Kris snuggled up to his friend and wrapped his arms around him to share his warmth. He kissed his temple. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Fox’s eyes drooped again, and he drifted into a restless sleep.
Kris couldn’t sleep. A flood of thoughts raced through his mind. What kind of poison had Zebediah used? Where did he get it? What were the symptoms? How long before it became really dangerous for Fox? Would he be left with any lasting effects? And what if he couldn’t get his hands on that gun? How was he ever going to manage that?
Just as the questions began to exhaust him and he started to doze off, Fox became restless again. His breathing was labored, and from time to time, a pitiful whimper escaped him.
Kris was wide awake again. “Are you in pain?” he asked, alarmed.
“My stomach,” he whispered. “My stomach hurts.”
When Kris looked into Fox’s eyes, they were filled with tears.
Kris had never felt so terrible. If Fox hadn’t been with him, this wouldn’t have happened. Before he knew it, a tear rolled down his cheek.
Fox caught it with his thumb. “Are you hurting too? Maybe it’s food poisoning.”
“No,” he replied. He placed a hand on Fox’s stomach and kissed his forehead. “I hate it when you’re in pain. Should I make you a hot water bottle?”
Fox’s fingers intertwined with his. “It’s just a stomach bug. Don’t worry.”
Another tear trickled down Kris’s cheek. “I know,” he said with a thick voice. “Don’t mind me. It’s just been a rough night.”
Fox sat up. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he answered. “I just want to be with you. And you need to rest. I’ll get you some painkillers and a hot water bottle.”
“You’re sweet,” Fox said with a weak smile.
Kris smiled back, though the corner of his mouth trembled. Then he slid out of bed to make a hot water bottle and find some painkillers. What else he could do, he didn’t know. It made him feel nauseous, powerless, and utterly terrified.
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