by Tania Hutley
“I’ll give you anything,” says the man under my paw. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”
“I want the Beast.”
“If I show you where he is, will you let me go?”
“I’ll show you,” another of the men volunteers quickly. “I never wanted to attack President Morelle. I advised against it, but the Beast didn’t listen. Let me show you where he is.”
I glance at Cale as he staggers sideways and sits heavily. To add to all his other injuries, I think he’s been shot. His fur is a mess, so soaked with blood that I can’t see all his wounds. His eyes are dull and his breaths rasp in and out with a faint gurgling as though he has blood in his lungs. We need to get his Skin repaired before it’s beyond saving.
“What’s your name?” I ask the volunteer.
“Piero. I’m the largest clothing manufacturer in Triton.” He seems a little offended I didn’t already know that, but all the men look so alike, they could be brothers.
I let him lead us out of the room. Doctor Sinjay is on the floor in the hallway. Doctor Moss has both hands pressed over her gunshot wound, but blood is slowly leaking around her palms.
“Come here,” I order one of the businessmen. “Put pressure on her wound.”
The man obeys, taking Doctor Moss’s place.
“If you stop pressing on her wound, or if she dies, I’ll come back and kill you,” I growl at him. Then I turn to Doctor Moss. “Go and get help for her. Hurry.”
I’d do more if I could, but we need to find the Beast while Cale’s Skin can still walk. At least, I think he can still walk.
“Can you keep going?” I ask him.
“Of course. Just a scratch.” Even talking sounds like it’s difficult for him, but he pushes himself back up to standing.
I shut the rest of the businessmen back inside the room, lock the door, and put a claw through the band reader. Hopefully it’ll hold them secure until I can decide what to do with them.
Piero, our volunteer, leads us to a wall that looks like all the others. It’s not until I peer closely at it that I make out the hairline cracks where a hidden door can be opened.
“Nobody but the Beast can get in there,” he says. “His security is state-of-the-art, and the Beast is the only one who can open the door. I don’t know what’s through there. Nobody’s been in but him.”
“Who is he?” I demand. “What’s his real name?”
His eyes widen. “You don’t know?” The way his voice cracks on the question is a giveaway. Whoever the Beast really is, Piero is afraid of being the one to tell us.
I rear up and plant my front paws on his chest, slamming his back against the wall. Bringing my muzzle close to his terrified face, I let my hot breath gust over him. “Tell me.”
Chapter Twenty
Piero is hard against the wall, and with my front paws on his chest, my full weight is pressing into him. Thanks to his colleague who shot me in the forehead, the fur on my face is clumped with blood, so I guess I don’t look as pretty as I normally do.
When I growl, Piero nods quickly, his head jerking up and down, and his eyes large and frightened. Judging from the smell, the biggest clothing manufacturer in Triton might be in need of a clean pair of trousers.
“His real name is Kriston Welcon,” he gasps.
My limbs feel suddenly weak. “Welcon Pharmaceuticals?”
Behind me, Cale draws in a sharp breath. “The Beast can’t be the head of Welcon Pharmaceuticals. Kriston Welcon went to jail.”
“He didn’t.” Piero’s voice sounds strangled. With my weight on his chest, he must be struggling to breathe. “Edward Morelle gave him a Skin. That was the deal. It was the price he demanded. A new identity and a Skin that meant he could live forever.”
“The deal?” I lean on him a little harder. “What do you mean?”
“His payment for the Welcon disaster.”
“You planned it all, didn’t you?” Cale’s tone is blunt, but I can hear his rage simmering under the surface. “When Welcon put out his cancer vaccine, he knew what would happen. He knew it’d cause a fertility spike and millions of unplanned babies. All of you knew in advance. I’m sure Edward Morelle did.”
“Did you know too?” I snarl at Piero.
The man’s eyes are starting to bulge. I’m tempted to lean harder and crush him. Instead, I ease my weight a little so he can drag in a loud, gasping breath.
“I knew about it,” he pants. “But it wasn’t my idea.”
Dropping to four paws, I pace up and down in front of the cowering man, my anger too intense to keep still. I can trace everything bad that ever happened to my family back to the Welcon disaster. It caused misery for millions. My father worked himself to death trying to pay second-child taxes. And they did it on purpose?
“Why?” I snarl, too furious to manage more than one word.
“It was just business,” Piero says, rubbing his chest. “We had the president where we wanted him. We could make Triton better. Back then, there was only one Triton. One city for everyone, and nowhere to get away from the crowds. We needed to expand upward, and the surge in second-child taxes meant we could build New Triton.” He’s speaking fast, the words spilling out in a rush. “Before Welcon, there was a labor shortage. Afterward, plenty of people needed work. Our factories were at full capacity again, and in New Triton we had the room to build proper houses. We built safer communities for our families, and better—”
I swipe him hard across the face with one paw, sending him sprawling against the wall. I’ve never experienced fury like this. My vision has gone red, and my blood feels like it’s boiling in my veins. I want to kill them all. I want to rip every one of the cruel, greedy industrialists to pieces, and make them scream their regrets.
Cale moves in front of me, putting himself between me and the cowering man. He growls, and my rage is reflected in his eyes. “Let’s go and find Kriston Welcon,” he snarls.
I hesitate, fighting for control. Then I manage to nod. “Go,” I hiss at Peiro through clenched fangs. “Before I kill you.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes himself to his feet and staggers quickly away.
Turning to the secret door, I unleash my fury by tearing into it with my claws. The door is thick and solid, but I splinter it into matchsticks.
Beyond it is a narrow stairwell going down. There are cameras in the ceiling, and at the bottom of the stairs is another metal door with a band reader next to it. The door looks thicker and heavier than the others, and it has a seal around its edge.
Too bad for the Beast, the door was built to keep humans out, not raging Leopard Skins. I slash my claws through the metal, and after gouging out the lock, I rip the whole thing out of the wall.
“Stay back,” I warn Cale. “The Beast might be armed.”
Stepping cautiously through the hole, I find myself in an apartment. One sweeping glance shows me the place is empty. There’s a shiny, new-looking kitchen, and a luxurious living room. Instead of windows, large screens set into the walls show a picturesque view of trees and a waterfall, as if the apartment were in the middle of a forest. A bedroom is screened off in one corner, and beyond it is a bathroom.
“I think we found where the Beast sleeps,” I say.
“It’s more than that.” Cale replies from behind me. “The seal on that door was to keep the place airtight. I bet it has its own air purifiers and clean water supply.” He limps into the kitchen and swipes open a cupboard so roughly, he tears the door right off. The entire cupboard is neatly packed with food packets. “Ready for the apocalypse,” he says.
“So this is what?” I ask. “A place he can hole up in case something bad happens?”
“A billionaire bolt hole.” Cale limps slowly through the apartment toward a door at the far end, past the bedroom. “Can’t wait to see what’s on the next floor.”
“Let me go first.”
The next door is as thick as the last one, and sealed so it’s airtigh
t. I deal with it quickly. Beyond it is a stairwell, and at the bottom of the stairs is yet another locked, sealed door.
“So many airtight doors,” growls Cale. “If someone poisoned the air outside, he would have survived. Just him and the cockroaches.”
“Not anymore.” Rearing onto my hind legs, I tear the door out of its frame. I’m ready to rush in and disarm the Beast, but no gunshots ring out, and I can’t catch the scent of a person from inside.
I step through the damaged doorframe into a long hallway with doors coming off it on either side, and turn back to make sure Cale manages to limp through as well. We move down the hallway together, warily opening each door as we come to it. In the first room, crates are stacked from floor to ceiling. Each crate is stencilled with a list of its contents, which turn out to be meal bars. The Beast has stockpiled enough food to last for years.
The next room is full of crates holding other types of supplies, including water purifiers, medicines, gas masks, bio protection suits, and communication equipment.
In the final room we find hundreds of guns stacked in giant racks, and enough explosives to blow up all of Triton.
“Shit,” breathes Cale. “Is he ready to survive an apocalypse or to start one?”
I pad down the long rows of weapons, my head spinning at how many there are. With these, the Beast could arm his own soldiers. Is that what he planned? Did he mean to create his own Skin army?
At the far end of the hallway is another door that presumably leads down to the last level. There’s a good chance the Beast is past that door, in the deepest bowels of his bunker. And he’s not short of munitions, so if he’s rigged a booby trap, he could blow us to hell.
I turn to Cale. “Transfer back into your human body now, so you can call Spade and Keren. Tell them to come here with trucks, ready to take the Beast’s supplies. All this food should go to the shelters. And I want them to take the weapons and explosives somewhere safe until I decide what to do with—”
“I told you, I’m not leaving you.” His ears flatten. “You’re only trying to get rid of me because the Beast must be waiting for us at the bottom of the next stairwell with some serious fire power.” He flicks the tip of his tail angrily from side to side. It’s probably the only uninjured part of his body. “I’m not going anywhere, Milla. You need me.”
“But I’m strong enough to—”
“My Skin is expendable,” he interrupts. “I’ll go through the door first and if he manages to kill me, I’ll transfer back to my real body. No harm done. And hopefully it’ll buy you time to take him down.”
“But your Tiger Skin will be destroyed.”
“Skins will be illegal soon anyway. Wasn’t that the deal we made with Otho?”
I drag in a breath, reluctant to let him sacrifice himself so brutally. “You love that Skin.”
His eyes are dull with pain, but as he stretches his muzzle toward me, the golden flecks in their depths seem to reignite and glow with warmth. “I do. But I love you so much more. And if it comes to a choice between you or my Skin, I’ll choose you every time.”
My heart swells to fill my chest. I touch his nose with mine, breathing in his bloody, burned-fur scent, and tangling our whiskers together. My throat is almost too full to talk, but I manage to whisper, “I love you, too.”
The words take up all the space between us. They seem too big and important for the moments before both our Skins could be torn apart. I want to say them again when we’re somewhere safe, when we have all the time in the world to explore them and discover what they might mean.
Peeling my lips back from my teeth, I give him a feline grin. “Now let’s go and kill the Beast.”
He snorts out a small, amused breath. “It’s a date.”
I keep close by his side as we slowly descend the steps to the final floor, feeling every stumble and intake of breath as though his pain were mine. When we get to the last locked door, I rear up and rest my front paws on it. “You ready?” I murmur.
He meets my gaze and gives a single nod.
Plunging my claws into the door, I wrench it out of its frame. Cale pushes past me, limping into the room before I’ve managed to throw the door aside.
Dropping to all four paws, I start after him.
An explosion slams into me, hurling me back into the hallway. I smash hard into the wall. Sentin’s death flashes in front of my eyes, the way he blew himself up.
Cale!
A wave of heat rolls out of the splintered door frame, burning my lungs as I drag in a breath. Pulling myself up, I drop my head and lope into the searing heat.
Smoke fills the room, blinding me. The floor is hot enough to keep me moving, and I keep bounding forward, though the pads of my paws are burning.
“Cale.” It’s more of a cough than a word, and I already know it’s useless to call for him. There’s no way he could have survived the explosion.
Gunfire cracks out of the smoke, the muzzle of the Beast’s gun lighting up with each shot. The bullets carve into me, but I barely feel them as I rush toward the flashes of light.
I leap over the still-burning floor where the explosion went off, and fling myself into the smoke on the other side, barrelling into the dark shape of the man behind the gunfire. Together, we slide across the floor, his weapon clattering away and hitting what remains of the large pod that was in the middle of the room, surrounded by now-shattered medical equipment.
I leap to my feet and press one paw against the man’s chest before he can get up. His eyes stare up into mine. The Beast’s human body looks nothing like his bald, fleshy Skin. This man looks much like all the other businessmen who sat around his boardroom table. He has thick, dark hair and a smooth, almost-ageless face. The only signs of how old he must really be are the fine lines around his tweaked eyes and mouth.
I snarl into his face. My anger is so intense, it burns hotter than the fire did.
“Stop,” he croaks. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“You killed Felicity.” It comes out as a growl, the words hard to make out.
“This Skin is stronger than I knew they could be.” He says it accusingly, as though he’s caught me cheating. “Who are you?”
“President Morelle,” I growl. “Before that, I was a sinker. Expendable. Another grunt for your factories.”
“An Old Tritoner?” He sounds shocked, as though this possibility never occurred to him. “But how did you—?” He gives his head a little shake. “It doesn’t matter where you came from. If you’re the President of Triton, you’ll need me.”
“I need you?” I bare my teeth, tempted to bite his arrogant head right off his shoulders.
He grunts with pain as my weight bears down on him, and turns his face to the side so he’s not staring into my teeth. “Triton won’t run without my consortium. It would be chaos.” For the first time, there’s a hint of fear in his voice.
“You organized the Welcon disaster that tore my family apart.”
“I distributed the vaccine, but Edward Morelle was the mastermind behind the idea.” He speaks quickly, his tone cajoling. “And if you’d just open your mind, you’d see that the aftermath of that act could give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Let me help you.”
“I want nothing from you.” I spit the words, my bloody saliva splattering his face. “You deserve to die for what you’ve done to millions of sinkers. Let alone what you did to Felicity.”
His mouth hardens and a flash of defiance sparks in his eyes. “Then throw away everything I have to offer. But Old Triton can’t survive without factories, which won’t run without the consortium. Hurt me, and you’ll regret it when Old Triton falls apart and your precious sewer rats are starving in the streets.”
I drag in a breath, fighting for control of my rage. “I’d planned to tear your throat out. But now I have a better idea.”
Lifting my paw off his chest, I flip him over. Then I slice the tip of one claw into the back of his neck, ripping out flesh
. He screams, his body convulsing, but I don’t stop until I’ve torn out the chip that allowed him to transfer into his Skin.
With the mess I’ve made of his flesh, I doubt he’ll ever be able to implant a new one. But he won’t die. He’s rich enough that his blood must be filled with nanites that will keep him alive until his doctors can patch him up.
He’ll be hurting for a long time though. And by the time he’s healed enough to worry about the empire he’s created, it’ll be gone. I’m going to make sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Leaving Kriston Welcon bleeding on the floor, I head slowly back upstairs. The laboratory levels are now deserted, all the scientists having fled. The industrialists I locked in the room with their pods have gone too, and the door has been wrenched open.
It doesn’t matter.
I move slowly, my body aching after having been burned, shot, and battered. But with every step, my sense of purpose grows. Kriston Welcon was right. New Triton depends on Old Triton, and vice versa. Without the factories to employ them, without being able to work to earn credits to buy food, Old Triton will suffer.
Unless I change everything.
I’m going to need the Fist to help me, but hopefully Cale has called Keren and Spade by now and they’re on their way here. In the meantime, I start by destroying everything I can find, starting with the businessmen’s pods, and moving up to the equipment in the laboratories.
I smash every computer in every lab, and grind countless experiments into the floor, turning each room into a mess of broken machinery and glass.
When I finally get to the floor with the elevators, I run into Keren and Spade. Cale must have told them I was using the Leopard Skin, but they still look nervous when they see me.
“Milla?” Keren steps closer, her unease disappearing as she hardens her jaw. It reminds me of the way she launched herself at an oncoming knight the first time I met her.
“It’s me,” I say.
Spade lets out a low whistle, pushing his woollen hat back from his forehead. “That’s one impressive Skin. I saw it on the holo, but being this close is something else.”
