by Tania Hutley
“Do you know what that doctor’s going to do to me, William? When she cuts my Skin, my human body bleeds. She’s going to slice me into little bits so she can find out how long it takes me to die.”
“Hurting your Skin affects your human body?” At least he’s decided to respond. He asks the question like he really wants to know.
“That’s right. She’s determined to figure out why.”
“And using a Skin is really how you became so strong?”
“Everything I’ve told you has been the honest truth.”
We stop in front of the elevators and his squad come up behind us. With them so close, we won’t be able to speak privately. I’ve lost my chance to change his mind.
The elevator doors open, and he motions his squad to get in first. In the instant before he steps in, he says, “I can’t help you, Milla,” in a voice so soft I can barely hear him.
It’s the first time he’s called me by my name.
As the elevator rises, a pit of despair opens up inside me. With his squad crowded around him, I can’t say anything more. But his last words to me sounded almost regretful. If we only had more time, perhaps I could have convinced him I wasn’t lying. Maybe I could have saved him from being just another of Morelle’s tools.
But it’s too late. The elevator doors open, and he marches down the hall then through the door to a small, white room that smells like antiseptic. A room I remember all too well.
His squad stay outside, guarding the exit. Making sure I can’t escape.
“It’s nice to have you back,” says a white-coated woman, as William lifts me off his shoulders. “I’m Doctor James. You remember me?”
One glimpse of her red hair and cold eyes makes my stomach churn. She’s straight from my nightmares. I’d have given anything to never have to see her again.
“I remember tying you up instead of killing you,” I growl. “Obviously a mistake, and I won’t make it again.”
She hands William a pair of scissors. “Cut off her clothes, then strap her to the bed.”
“No! William, don’t do it.”
He dumps me face-up on the bed so I’m lying awkwardly on my hands which are still tied behind my back. Then he takes the scissors. Turning to me, he hesitates for just a moment.
“Please, William. You don’t have to do this.”
He starts at my ankles and cuts my jeans all the way up. It’s an effortless motion, the thick fabric parting easily because the scissors are so sharp.
“You can leave her underwear,” says the doctor. “But take off her shoes.”
He slices my T-shirt off and slips off my sneakers, leaving me in just my bra and panties. Finally, he passes straps around my knees, thighs, and hips, securing me to the bed before slicing off the ties around my wrists and ankles. Even mostly naked, furious, and terrified, the intense relief I feel when my wounded shoulder releases from its cramped, forced-back position overwhelms everything else for a moment. Shame it doesn’t last long.
Working quickly, William loops more straps over my body, forcing my back against the bed and pulling the straps so tight I can’t move. He even fastens one across my forehead to hold my head in place.
When he’s finished, the doctor tests to make sure the bonds are tight, then nods her approval. “Now fetch the Leopard Skin from Room 419.”
William nods and goes out. He and his squad march off together, presumably satisfied that I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not. There are too many thick straps holding me down. When I use all my strength to strain against them, I don’t feel any give at all.
I drag in a shuddering breath. “Why are you doing this?” I demand, knowing I won’t be able to talk the doctor out of hurting me, but needing to try.
She sticks a couple of small, black electrodes to my forehead above the strap, then lifts my hair to position more on my scalp. “Your idiosyncrasies are unique. You’re the only subject so far to exhibit somatoform injuries, let alone the other physiological changes. Do you have any idea why?”
“Go to hell.”
She nods as though this were the answer she expected. Against the wall is a small, high table and she tugs it so it glides toward me on wheels. Then she takes her time to position the table beside the bed. Though my head is strapped down so tightly that I can’t move, I can still watch from the corner of my eyes.
She picks up a medical scanner from the table and runs it over my body, watching the readout closely and clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Your condition isn’t ideal,” she says finally, putting it down. “You have several bruises and abrasions, and that’s a significant wound on your shoulder. I’d prefer to have a clean slate to work with.”
“I’ll kill you.” I say the words forcefully, making them sound as much of a threat as I can. I only wish I could make good on it.
The door opens, and a knight I assume is William wheels in a gurney. He positions it on the other side of the doctor’s table of instruments. My beautiful Leopard Skin is lying on its side with so many thick webbing straps tying it down, only a few tufts of its beautiful fur stick through.
An overwhelming need to transfer into my leopard surges through me, so strong I can barely fight it. I don’t belong in my human body, I never have. My leopard is where I should be.
But my chip was wiped. I can’t be the leopard anymore. Maybe I should be grateful for that, but the knowledge fills me with a desolate ache of longing.
When the bed is positioned, the knight stands at attention, and the doctor waves her hand in dismissal. “You may go.”
He nods. Is it William? I want my brother to look at me. To do or say something that will tell me he feels the slightest bit sorry for leaving me here. Instead he marches out, closing the door behind him.
He and his squad disappear quickly, their black, amored bodies no longer visible through the glass door.
Doctor James studies my face with a little frown, no doubt able to see my anguish. “You’re still in your human body?” she asks. “There’s the leopard, so close, yet you don’t wish to transfer?” She pulls back a little and shakes her head. “No, you do wish it. I can see it in your expression. So perhaps the problem is that you can’t.”
“Go to hell,” I say again, my teeth gritted.
The doctor’s expression doesn’t change. She loosens the webbing from my forehead so I can move my head, then picks up a chip scanner I recognise because it looks like the one Doctor Gregory used. Forcing my head forward, she runs the scanner across the back of my neck, then raises her eyebrows. “Your chip has been re-coded. Who did that?” She tsks. “Does President Morelle know? I should inform her, yes? If someone outside the corporation was able to re-code your chip, who knows what other trouble they may cause.”
When I don’t answer, she puts the scanner down. “But for me, this is fortunate. I can conduct a control experiment before we begin.”
She picks something up from her table. A scalpel. My heart speeds up as my gaze fixes on the gleaming blade.
Doctor James turns to my leopard and slices a deep cut into its chest, between the thick straps that are holding it down. The air fills with the scent of blood, and my leopard’s beautiful white fur turns red around the wound.
I haul against the restraints, using my horror and outrage to fuel my muscles, tearing and wrenching with everything I’ve got.
The doctor studies me coolly, then puts down the bloody scalpel and picks up a tablet. “Interesting. There are no signs of corresponding injuries appearing on your own body, though your heart rate is elevated.” She tsks at me again. “If you’d stop that pointless struggling, I’d get more accurate baseline data.”
I’m glad to mess up her data, but the restraints aren’t giving way and there’s no point in tiring myself out when I might get a better chance to break free later.
“That’s good,” says Doctor James when I stop straining. “Just relax.” She picks the chip scanner back up, and runs it over the leopard’s neck, then over my
neck. “Now you can transfer. You can be the leopard again.”
I’ve yearned for those words for so long, I can hardly believe my dearest wish has been granted. But transferring into my Leopard Skin is what the doctor wants me to do, and if I succumb to the urge, she’ll be able to run more of her twisted experiments.
Clenching both fists, I fight the need with everything I’ve got. I don’t even dare to blink in case I can’t keep my mind from slipping into the leopard in the split second my eyes are closed.
Instead, I stare at my leopard, horrified by how she’s treated it. As well as the deep cut she sliced into my leopard’s chest, the wide webbing straps holding it down are so tight, they’re digging into its flesh. They cover its snout and its head around both sides of its ears, with barely enough space left to expose one eye. Anger surges through me. How dare she do this to my beautiful Leopard Skin? Has it been secured like this the entire time since I was last here?
“You want to transfer,” the doctor murmurs. “Don’t fight it.”
I glare at her, my jaw clamped so tightly it hurts.
“You keep surprising me, Milla. The leopard is your heart’s desire, yes? And it’s there.” She waves her hand at it. “You won’t transfer?”
I narrow my eyes even more, trying to transmit my hatred for her in my gaze.
“Last time you were here, you managed to free yourself from your restraints, because your body was stronger than I expected.” The doctor studies my face, her gaze as dispassionately curious as though I were a specimen in a jar. “Why is that, do you think?”
When I don’t reply, she sighs. “I’ve designed several tests to measure your human strength and we’ll get to those soon enough. First, I want to know if you still exhibit the same somatoform injuries when the Leopard Skin is wounded. Don’t fight it, Milla. You have no choice but to transfer your consciousness into the Leopard Skin.”
Like hell. As soon as I transfer, she’s going to keep slicing my Skin open with her scalpel.
“If you don’t obey, I’ll give you a shot which will make you compliant and unable to resist any suggestion I make.” She pushes her lips to the side, considering it. “I’d prefer not to take the risk of the drug interfering with this particular experiment, however it will make the process quicker.”
Shit.
Which is worse, letting her cut my leopard, or being drugged and then letting her cut my leopard? Not much of a choice.
I screw my eyes shut. Even in this messed-up situation, the feeling of falling sideways fills me with a fierce kind of joy. A joy that intensifies beyond measure when I finally look out once more through my leopard’s eyes.
I’m home.
I’m me.
This is who I am, who I’ll always be. The relief that surges through me at being in my real body again is so intense, it makes me wants to roar.
But the strap over my muzzle holds it so tightly to the gurney, even growling is difficult. The webbing’s so tight, I’d howl with pain if I could. I can barely flick my ears because of the webbing cutting into my head. The only part I can move freely is my tail, so I swish it violently from side to side.
“Good,” says the doctor. I can’t smell the faintest hint of pity on her. She reeks of chemicals. The grey webbing is so close to my eyes, it limits my view. But I can see my human body lying on the gurney next to me, and watch the scalpel as she brings it down to my leopard’s front leg, just above my paw.
When the blade bites into me, the pain isn’t too bad for a moment. It gets more intense as she cuts deeper, until it’s searing like fire.
A wound opens on my human arm, just above the wrist. Watching it happen feels surreal, like watching a magic trick. How could skin part like that, all on its own? It shouldn’t be possible. Blood trickles from the wound. It doesn’t look nearly as deep as the cut she’s sliced into my leopard. It’s not bleeding as much.
“Incredible,” breathes the doctor. She beams at me like I’ve done some kind of clever trick. “Even after weeks of being separated from the Skin, you’re still exhibiting the same symptoms. Excellent news.”
If I could say something I would. If I could do anything other than growl, I would. But with my muzzle strapped down so tightly, all I can do is stare at my human body.
Funny to realize it now, but for the first time in my life, I don’t hate that body. Sure, it’s let me down at a few crucial times, like when I needed the strength to fight off late-night attackers in the shelter. But it’s saved me a few times too.
My scars are still difficult to look at. My hollow cheek gives my face a lopsided, sunken look, and the scars twist and pucker my skin. I’ve always thought of my scars as a burden I’ve been forced to bear, but Cale was right about them being part of who I am. Why should I hate them?
In my human body, I survived all my years in the shelter, and even managed to escape this place. My body was strong when I needed it most, and now that I’m looking at it with fresh eyes, I can admire its wiry toughness.
I haven’t appreciated that body nearly enough. How ironic that now, under the doctor’s scalpel, I can finally see how capable that body really is.
I only wish I could save it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Doctor James slices into me again, the scalpel drawing a painful line into my shoulder. With my mouth bound, unable to curse her, I watch my flesh part. I can’t even struggle as I feel warm blood soak my fur and see it trickle down my human arm.
“This is truly remarkable,” murmurs the doctor. She picks up her tablet and taps on it, absorbed in whatever data she’s collecting.
A knock comes from the door. It opens, and a knight looks in.
Could it be William?
“President Morelle wants to see the subject before you start your experiments,” says the knight.
One of my ears is pressed tightly against the gurney, and the other is mostly blocked by the tight webbing. The knight has a male voice, but I can’t tell if it’s my brother’s.
“Her consciousness has already transferred into the leopard,” snaps the doctor. “I’ve begun running my tests.” She makes an exasperated sound and picks up a hypodermic needle from her table. “You’ll have to wait while I send her consciousness back to origin.”
The knight steps forward with a shake of its head. “No need. President Morelle wants both her real body and the leopard. She said she wants to see what happens to one body when she hurts the other.”
Doctor James frowns. “But that’s absurd. I’m conducting methodical tests and recording the results, just as we discussed. Why would she interrupt my research when it could render the experiment inconclusive?”
“I don’t question orders.” The knight moves to the gurney that holds my real body. “I’ll push this one. You bring the other.”
“Where’s the rest of your squad?”
“She only sent me.”
“I spoke with President Morelle an hour ago, and she was very clear about the tests she wanted me to conduct.” The doctor’s voice is sharp with suspicion. She touches her band. “You’ll have to wait, soldier, while I check your orders.”
The knight lunges forward, the movement so fast I might not have been able to follow it with human eyes. It shoves the doctor backward. Her head cracks against the wall, and she crumples to the floor.
Then the knight bends over me. “Milla? You okay? It’s Cale.”
Bound so tightly, I can’t do anything but blink at him as tears fill my eyes. I had no idea leopards could cry, but I’m so glad he’s alive, I can’t do anything else. How did he escape from Sentin? And how on earth did he find me?
“The doctor strapped you in tight.” His tone is grim as he picks up the scalpel and saws through the thick webbing that holds me in place. “I got here as fast as I could, but not fast enough.” His voice changes to a growl. “I want to kill her for what she’s done to you.”
The webbing around my muzzle loosens, and I moan with relief. “You have no idea
how glad I am to see you.”
“Me too.” He starts work on the webbing around my head. “I had to go to the safe house to get the Knight Skin, and I kept picturing the doctor torturing you. Every second felt like an hour.”
“I thought you were dead.” My voice hitches. “How’d you get away?”
“Get away?”
“From Sentin.” The sharp scalpel combined with his knight’s super strength means he’s cutting through the webbing faster than I’d dared hope. My head’s already coming free.
“Sentin’s on our side.” He frowns. “Why would I need to get away from him?” The head strap parts, and he moves down to my shoulders.
“I thought he was working with Morelle.”
“Sentin planned this whole thing. He’s the one who reprogrammed my chip so I could transfer into the Knight Skin. Don’t tell me you don’t trust him?” Cale sounds as confused as if it had never occurred to him to doubt him. But I’m the one who’s confused. How could Cale suddenly trust Sentin so completely?
“So he did turn up to save us?”
“Of course he did.”
“And what about Ma?”
“She was awake when I left, and I called an ambulance. She took a nasty blow to the head, but she seemed alert and sharp. I’m sure she’ll recover.”
The wave of relief that rushes through me is strong enough to make me dizzy.
The thick straps around my shoulders part, and I’m loose enough to work my way out from the last bonds. As I come free, all I want to do is press myself against Cale, to reassure myself that he’s really here. But the intense pain of blood flooding back into all four legs keeps me from doing more than trying to straighten them.
Cale picks up some of the webbing he cut free, then bends to the doctor. She groans as he rolls her over and strips off her lab coat.
I sit on my haunches to shake out my front paws while he works the coat free and strips off the doctor’s white trousers and shirt, leaving her in her underwear. Then he uses what’s left of the webbing to bind the doctor’s arms and legs.
