by Tania Hutley
The flames die, and for a moment I can’t hear anything but my own racing heartbeat, or see anything but white spots still burning in front of my eyes. Then my vision clears.
Beside me, Aza is fighting one of the apes, slashing it with her stingers. Her movements are as graceful as a dance, so precise and beautiful that watching her fight clears the panic from my brain.
My fur is singed, but I’m not hurt. The flame thrower is on the floor, still smoking, either abandoned or knocked out of the Beast’s hands by Brugan, who’s wrestling with him.
Cale was just as much in the flamethrower’s blast as I was. Where is he?
An ape charges at me. Adrenaline’s pumping through my muscles, and I rear up to swipe the ape to the side, sending it tumbling. The Beast slams Brugan against the ground, and an ape leaps on the fallen devil bear. Brugan and the ape are both giants, equal in size, and Brugan curses at the top of his lungs as he struggles to throw the creature off.
I move to help him, digging my claws into the ape and hauling it off Brugan so he can scramble to his feet. Behind them, I finally see Cale. He rears up over the Beast, plunging down with his claws. But the Beast grabs him by the forelegs and slams him against the wall.
Snarling, Brugan tackles the ape again. I throw myself at the Beast’s back. One of my claws digs into his shoulder, gouging a wound deep enough that a human would go down screaming. He barely seems to notice.
One of the ape creatures grabs me from behind, latching onto my front leg with giant hands. Snarling, I manage to sink my teeth into its shoulder. With a mighty jerk of my jaws, I tear a mouthful of flesh away.
The creature roars, stumbling back, as I spit blood at it. Its arm hangs uselessly. Another creature is on me at once, but I slash it with my claws, ripping its flesh to shreds.
Cale circles the Beast, feinting forward and back as he looks for an opening. He’s limping, holding his front paw off the ground. His legs are stained red, his fur clumped with so much blood that it spatters onto the floor with every movement. As he turns away from me, I see the burn that covers one side of his body. His beautiful fur has been seared away and his flesh is raw.
Yanking my claws out of the ape creature, I rush to help him. The Beast tugs a long knife from under his shirt and brandishes it at me. I leap at him anyway, remembering what the scientist said about having a protective shield in my flesh.
He stabs me, mid-leap. Pain sears through my chest, but the knife only digs in a little way. Surprise flashes in the Beast’s eyes when it won’t penetrate. I slam into him as I land, sending him sprawling backward. Then I claw at his knife arm, slicing through his clothing and into his flesh as easily as I cut through the apes. The upgrades to my Leopard Skin have made me stronger than any of them.
With a roar of pain and rage, the Beast tears away.
I go after him, slashing big cuts across his back, and turning his shirt to ribbons soaked with his blood. He turns and slams his fist into my side, a powerhouse punch that bowls me sideways.
I hit an ape, knocking it over. It grabs me as it falls, pulling me with it so I land on top of it. Its hands wrap around my throat, cutting off my air. Before I can wrench free, Aza looms over us. She stabs downward, thrusting her stinger through its eye. Its grip loosens and I push away from it, pulling myself back onto four paws. The floor is slippery with blood, and my front paws slide forward so I almost go down again.
Chest heaving, I look around.
The Beast has his knife in his hand, and his knees bent in a fighting stance. He snarls, facing off against Brugan. Both are badly wounded, their arms and torsos slashed with cuts, The Beast’s shirt is torn away, and there barely seems like enough flesh left to hold his guts in.
Aza circles around to get behind him. Her wings are tattered and useless, and her black armor has been torn away from her body in several places. The flesh underneath is raw and bloody.
Littered around the room, the apes are mostly still. The businessmen must have transferred back into their own human bodies. All except two, who are struggling to rise, but too badly injured to be much of a threat.
Cale is on the floor, his legs sprawled out. His breath is loud, and my chest hurts to see him so badly wounded. Before I can go to him, I need to finish the Beast. Though Brugan and Aza are challenging him, compared to them, I’m barely injured. I leap over a dead ape, landing in front of them.
“I’ve got this,” I say with a growl.
“Come on.” The Beast brandishes his knife at me. “Come and get me.”
I launch myself forward, claws outstretched. He slashes at me, but his knife hits one of my claws and goes flying. I land on his chest, bowling him over.
As he struggles to rise, I hear Tori’s voice in my head. Don’t give him a chance to catch his balance. Only losers play fair.
I thrust my claws into his neck.
He gurgles, blood dribbling from his mouth. His glare is full of hatred. His mouth opens as though he’s going to say something, then his eyes go blank, and he slumps. He must have transferred his consciousness back into his human body.
Pulling my claws from his throat, I pad over to touch my nose to Cale’s. “Are you okay?”
His beautiful Tiger Skin stinks of burnt flesh, a stench that turns my stomach. His long saber-teeth are red with blood and his golden eyes are dull with pain. Still, he manages to lift his head. “I’m okay,” he lies.
Aza curses. Her black wasp’s helmet doesn’t show any emotion, but her voice is full of anger. “President Morelle told us we’d be fighting one humanoid Skin. Not these hideous creatures.” She kicks one of the apes.
Brugan gives her a gruesome smile, peeling his lips away from his bloody fangs. “I liked killing them.” He scans the room as though hoping more will appear.
“Thanks for killing the ape that had me by the neck,” I say to Aza.
“You killed most of them.” She runs her hand over the torn armor on her torso and sucks in air. “And yet you’re barely injured. Why not?”
“Yeah, how’d your Skin get so strong?” Brugan snarls. “The flames didn’t burn you.”
Aza spreads what’s left of her wings. “Something’s going on that you’re not telling us. I want to know what it is.”
I shoot Cale a glance. “My Skin was upgraded. Because, ah, I’ve been working with President Morelle, helping her track down people who’re making illegal Skins.”
Brugan takes a step toward me, and his voice drops dangerously low. “That’s a lie. She’d never choose a sewer rat to help her.”
He probably expects me to back down. Instead, I flick my tail from side to side, snarling up into his wolfish face.
“I may not have won the contest,” I growl. “But I lasted longer than you did. And now my Skin is stronger, faster, and better than yours will ever be.”
He lifts his claws. “Oh yeah? Then it’s time for a rematch, little kitty cat. Come here, and I’ll carve you into kitty shreds.”
It’s such an empty threat that my flash of anger fades away and I sit back on my haunches. He’s all hot air and bluster. Was I ever afraid of him? The idea seems laughable.
“That’s enough, Brugan.” Cale pulls himself up onto all four paws. He stands with his head and tail lowered, but his hackles are up. “We still have work to do and I won’t let you—”
“I’m leaving.” Aza cuts him off, turning toward the stairwell. “You might not care about your Skins, but mine needs urgent repair.” Torn pieces of her ruined wings drag on the floor as she stalks away.
“Wait,” I say to her back. “Please help me get Cale to the lobby. They’ll need to send a car to pick him up—”
Cale turns his face to me. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you.”
“You’re too badly hurt.”
“A few scratches, that’s all.”
Aza pauses to glance over her shoulder. She waves one of her hands, graceful even when she’s being dismissive. “Cale’s fine. And I’ve done everythin
g President Morelle asked. Now I intend to ask for the same modifications she gave your Skin.”
Brugan stares after her, clearly not wanting to let her get away. He aims one more snarl in my direction. “Next time you won’t get off so lightly, sewer rat.” Then he hurries after Aza.
Cale starts to groan, but manages to muffle it, turning it into a loud exhale. Blood still drips from his fur, but his eyes are fiercely determined.
“I won’t leave you, so don’t ask me again.” His firm tone makes it a command.
I stretch my muzzle to his. He smells like burned fur and pain, but underneath is a will forged in iron.
“Then let’s go,” I say.
Chapter Nineteen
The elevators to go down to the lobby are at the other end of this floor. If Cale weren’t so badly hurt, I’d use the stairwell like Brugan and Aza did. Instead, I smack one paw against the button to call the elevator to this level.
Cale and I cram into it when it arrives. We’re two massive, feline Skins covered with blood, squeezing ourselves into an opulent, gold-and-marble carriage. The doors shut, and the elevator goes smoothly down. It’s mirrored so we can stare at our own reflections while our gore drips onto its polished marble floor.
It feels like a dream. A surreal moment of unreality.
The elevator doors open on the lobby level of the building. Several office workers are waiting for the elevator. Their mouths drop open when they see us, and after a shocked second, they run.
As Cale limps out of the elevator, I turn my attention to its controls. There’s no obvious button or switch to make it go down to the secret floors below.
“What now?” he asks.
In answer, I stab my front claws down into the elevator’s marble floor, shattering the marble. Raking it up, I expose a thick metal plate.
Before the scientists enhanced it, my Skin could never have punched through metal. But when I put all my strength into a downward thrust, my claws go through it and I can peel it back like ripping apart a tin can.
Behind me, Cale grunts. “Who do I see about putting in for one of those upgrades?”
With a final, mighty heave, I tear the entire metal floor out. Peering into the gloom below, I can see the elevator shaft goes down one more level. At the bottom of the shaft, a door is set into the wall. I turn to Cale. “So much for the Beast’s fancy security system.”
Cale flicks his tail from side to side. “Poor fool didn’t think to make it leopard proof.”
I’m poised to jump into the shaft when it occurs to me that Cale may not be able to follow. His breathing is still too fast and it’s obvious he’s in a lot of pain. “Will you be able to get down there?” I ask.
“I’ll manage.”
“You could stay here and—”
“I’ll manage,” he growls.
I hesitate a moment longer, then drop into the hole, landing softly on the bottom of the shaft. Cale lands heavily behind me with a grunt of pain that he doesn’t manage to swallow. Together, we step out into the first of the Beast’s hidden levels.
It’s a huge, bustling space, filled with glass-fronted offices that back onto the outer walls. In the middle of the floor is a central, open well, and looking down into it, I see four more floors. A circular staircase provides access to them, solving the mystery as to why the elevator shaft only went down one floor.
The lights are bright in here, and the atrium in the center of the building gives it a sense of openness, in spite of not having any windows.
People dressed in white lab coats are gaping at us. In the glass-walled rooms, more white-coated people are working.
They’re laboratories. Just like in the Morelle scraper and in Deiterra, the Beast’s scientists are working on Skins.
Ignoring the gaping scientists, Cale limps slowly toward the central atrium. I pad along with him, peering into the labs we pass. Like they were at the Morelle Corportation, the scientists are experimenting on dissected brains and body parts.
“No wonder the Beast has hidden his research department away,” says Cale. “This work is illegal. Skin research is supposed to be regulated.” He’s limping slowly, like every muscle hurts. I stick close to him, ready to support him if he can’t stay upright.
“Why can we only see five floors?” He flicks his ears toward the atrium where the other levels are visible. “According to the blueprints, there should be eight.”
“Let’s find somebody to ask.”
As we walk down the open, circular staircase to the next floor, we get a good view into all the labs we pass. Some of the experiments are stomach-churning, although I saw similar things in the Morelle scraper.
Word quickly spreads that two large Skins are moving through the department, and some of the scientists decide it’s time to leave, heading toward the elevators with worried expressions. I watch them closely, looking for the right person to interrogate. Someone with an air of authority about them.
I spot a couple of likely-looking scientists in one of the labs, and plant myself in front of them, doing my best to loom over them menacingly.
“Been working here long?” I growl.
One of the women has allowed some fine wrinkles to develop around her mouth and eyes. The other looks younger, though she could just be more thoroughly tweaked. but I have a feeling both are senior scientists. Neither of them cower, and they don’t smell like fear. In fact, they peer at me curiously, as though fascinated by my Skin.
“I’m Doctor Moss and this is Doctor Sinjay,” says the wrinkled woman, frowning at the cuts on my shoulder. “Would you mind if I take a closer look at the composition of the subcutaneous tissue—?”
“Where’s the Beast’s human body?”
The two scientists glance at each other, nervousness finally flickering across their expressions. “Not here,” says the younger one.
“Then where?”
Doctor Moss shakes her head. “I have no idea.” Though her tone is brisk, it’s obvious she’s lying.
“You know how to get to the hidden floors?” I ask.
“Hidden floors?” She opens her eyes too wide, and purses her mouth in a perplexed expression. She’s a terrible liar.
“Why don’t you show us around?” I snarl and feint toward them, so they back away. Then I herd them the way I want them to go, directing them down the stairs.
Doctor Moss keeps glancing back at Cale, who’s limping beside me with glassy eyes. “You should let us take a look at that Skin,” she says. “Wounds that serious are susceptible to bacterial infection. If enough tissue is corrupted, it may be beyond repair.”
I glance sideways at Cale, hating the thought of his Tiger Skin dying that way.
Cale lifts his head but doesn’t meet my gaze. “Just keep going.” His voice is strained.
“When we get to the bottom floor, you’ll need to remember how to get a little further,” I tell Doctor Moss.
On the fifth level, we come to a locked door, and I motion to the band reader beside it. “Unlock it,” I order the two scientists.
They both shake their heads, their eyes wide with fear. “We don’t have access—” starts Doctor Moss.
“Prove it. Swipe your band.”
“But it’s a secure area, and strictly off limits.”
Cale leans against the wall. His head is hanging down, and his sides heave. He’s obviously hurting badly, and I don’t know how much longer he can stay on his paws.
“Swipe it. Now.” I lift one paw, extending my claws to her throat.
Doctor Moss swallows hard and holds her band to the reader. The door opens with a click.
Gunfire blasts out from behind the door. I leap sideways to shove both women to the ground. Too late. Doctor Sinjay cries out with pain, and blood soaks her white coat at the waist.
Leaving them both on the floor, I charge through the door.
Five businessmen fire at me from behind the pods they used when they transferred their consciousness into the ape creatures. The sh
ots are deafening. Bullets slam into me, searing through my flesh and knocking me backward.
I force myself to keep struggling forward anyway, bounding toward the businessmen. The one in front of me fires at point blank range, and the bullet gazes across my forehead. For a moment I’m deaf and blind, the top of my head on fire with agony. A sharp chemical stench fills my throat, then I choke on smoke. Blood runs into my eyes.
Lashing out, I strike flesh. My ears are ringing, but I catch the clatter of a gun hitting the floor.
Dropping my head, I swipe at my eyes with one paw, trying to wipe away the blood. The room comes back into blurry focus. Instantly, I launch myself at the next man. From the corner of my eye, I see Cale push a third man to the ground.
The last two businessmen fall just as fast, and I try not to injure them too badly as I disable them. I don’t want them dead. Not yet, anyway.
As painful as the gunshots were, they don’t seem to have done any major damage to my Skin. I’m bleeding, but only from surface wounds. The men’s guns are on the floor, and I swipe them into the hallway.
“I know who these men are,” pants Cale, swaying over the man he knocked to the ground. “Big shots. Billionaires. They were the ones using the Ape Skins?” He presses his long fangs against the man’s neck.
The man moans with fear. “Please, don’t kill me.”
“Big shots? They’re criminals.” I force another man onto the ground, holding him easily with one paw. When I first met these men in the Beast’s boardroom, they were contemptuous and arrogant. Now, they’re pale and afraid. The one who landed a shot in my forehead is the most badly hurt, with his shirt in tatters and deep lacerations in his shoulder. He’s on the floor sucking in loud gasping breaths. He must be in shock, but I think he’ll live. Now I have the time to look at his face, I see he’s the man the Beast called Harrison.
