I collapsed next to him, on my knees, and touched his cool forehead. A growing stain, dark purple compared to his blue uniform, was surrounded by other splotches of blood. His face was ashen. I should’ve tried to wrestle for control sooner. I tried to fight the tears that fell, but couldn’t.
“It’s my turn to fight for you now,” I whispered to him as I took his hand. When I squeezed it, he faintly squeezed back.
“Will he be okay?” Every word I spoke stabbed into me. Both in my head and my heart. Not far from me, Zoe sobbed against Tyson’s shoulder.
“He’s barely alive, but he’s losing a lot of blood,” Des replied. “We need to get him inside. The master’s suite has the most equipment for a critical care patient.”
Two men picked up Quinn to carry him into the house while an enforcer directed a bumbling Rebecca toward the guard post. With Des’s help, I followed Quinn into the house.
“You don’t look too good,” Des said to me.
“It’s only the beginning.” With every step I took into the mansion, I knew what had to be done next. The trail of Quinn’s blood on the fine marble floors spoke volumes. All of this had to end now. The General’s control on me. This nightmare of not knowing when I’d never wake up. Quinn’s actions couldn’t be in vain.
We reached the master suite and Des sprung into action. Her assistant, Penelope, ran about gathering medical supplies as the men laid Quinn on the bed. A physician from the barracks came bounding into the room.
When I spoke to Des, my voice sounded far away and weary. The pain was bad enough to make my hand shake. The discomfort throbbed in time with my heartbeat. “Where’s the transfer chamber?”
With a grim face, Des looked up from the bed. She had Quinn’s uniform open to attend to his wounds. “Tate, why?”
It was Zoe who answered for me from a few feet away. “To reach the end, sometimes you must go back to the beginning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I told myself over and over again this wasn’t my death march to the mansion’s cellar. That I’d survive because I wanted to live more than he did.
Know thyself and thy enemy. If you do, you should not fear any battle you encounter with them. If you only know yourself, for every battle you have won, you have also lost. If you do not know yourself or your foe, you will suffer defeat every single time.
My heart lurched to think of leaving Quinn behind in Dagon’s bed, but he was under a physician’s care now. He’d live.
This place was as cold and dark as I’d remembered it. No movements in the dark corners. Only the faint sounds of water dripping against the rocks. I reached over the cold slab and touched the chilled surface.
Des and Zoe hugged me before they’d left. Zoe had wanted to remain at my side, but I told her this was my final fight. My final stand.
Des waved at me briefly before she ordered the guards to seal the chamber.
Once I was alone, I prepared myself. Quinn’s warning swam around my head again and again: Two minds weren’t meant for one body. You have the advantage since you were there first.
Even with his words, I thought of him fondly. He’d returned for me. And when all hope was lost, when he thought I had died, he searched for me.
Another wave of pain hit me. The General knocked at the door of my mind, but I refused to let him in. I clenched the cold rock tighter. For a while, I lay there, fighting nausea as wave after wave of stabbing pain arced across my skull. I had to stay awake. I had to stay in control long enough for the fight to begin. I could do this—I was an ocean of endless depth. Wasn’t that why the General had chosen me? I could bear the burden of his attack.
It was time for me to face General Dagon for the final time.
His blackened presence was still there. He wanted me dead and buried for good.
“The tactics of combat are of vital importance,” I began.
If Zoe could do it, I could do it too. I’d box him in. Stow him away to a place where he’d never surface again.
“Victory is achieved through five things:
You will be victorious when you know when to fight and when not to fight.
You will be victorious when you know how to face both stronger and weaker enemies.
You will be victorious when all of your forces have a strong morale.
You will be victorious when you have patience to take on your unprepared foe.
You will be victorious when you possess adequate forces and won’t be hindered by the state.”
I repeated the words again and again. When I faltered, I could almost hear Quinn and Zoe urging me to keep going.
Just like an army of invaders, the General battered at me from all sides. Thousands of fingers grasped at me, trying to claw under my skin.
“You are weak,” General Dagon whispered. “There is no power in your words.”
Dagon assaulted me with images in my head, pictures of me with hideous blue streaks all over my face and body. The lines pulsed along my face like arched spider legs, creeping ever closer to the enlarged and grotesque scar above my mouth.
When I didn’t cringe or look away, he exposed gaping sores along my body. I’d seen these before: the aftermath of a KB12 infection gone awry.
But that wasn’t the worst he threw at me. He wanted to break me, to convince me that I’d always be weak—inferior. Legions of people surrounded me—laughing and pointing at my distorted features.
I lost track of how many times I’d repeated the words. The power behind them pushed the General deeper until the time between his attacks lengthened. His taunts sounded farther and farther away.
Zoe had been right. I had the strength to face him. I’d lasted this long. I hadn’t folded under the pressure. And it was because of this very reason, I truly understood what I should’ve known all along: I was here first. This body had been created for me, even with all its imperfections. I’d deceived myself all this time.
And in the end, no matter what conflict I faced, only I knew and accepted the real me.
A few hours later, the top of the chamber opened. Light illuminated the tomb’s corners. It was Des who touched me first. She laid her hands on my shoulders. When I didn’t speak, she leaned closer. She smelled like lilacs. My first scent of freedom. Her warm hands shifted to cup my cheeks.
“Is it you, Tate?” she whispered in my ear.
“It’s still the crazy girl who dared to come back.” My throat was parched. She offered me water. “Let’s hope you don’t have to sneak me out again and call me your niece.” I managed a half-hearted laugh.
She gave me the widest smile and cradled me close. Not long afterward, gentle hands carried me back to the master suite. The men who carried me and placed me in my bed didn’t ask if I’d won. Or if their master had returned. They simply laid me in the bed next to Quinn.
The skin on his pale face was cool to the touch, but his breath warmed my hand. The heavy bandages strapped across his torso were stained with blood, but he was still gloriously alive. He didn’t stir as I pressed my lips against his and lingered long enough to whisper six words: “Don’t you ever leave me again.”
Footsteps broke my moment of reverie. A group had entered the room.
“Is there anything you need, Master?” a soft voice asked. It was Des again. Behind her stood five men in black uniforms. Their faces were grim. “Miss Rebecca called for enforcers from the nearest outpost to come check on your well-being.”
Before I spoke, I took in the room. The drapes had been tied to the sides, and the windows opened. A breeze flowed through the room and brought with it the scent of spring-blooming flowers.
The day had hope—even for someone like me who’d approached the precipice of no return. I’d lingered near the edge and made the jump. I’d fallen and somehow returned.
Now I had to accept my fate. Like a delicate piece of paper, the young woman known as Tate Sullivan had brushed against a candle’s flame and burned away. Within the ashes of this paper, only the guise
of General Frederick Dagon remained.
“You wasted your time coming here,” I said, my face blank. “Everything’s under control. My control, as it should be, as it always will be.”
After a nod from one of the enforcers, they turned and left. All the while, I stared at my right hand, waiting patiently for it to tremble, for it to move under someone else’s control. One thing the General had taught me well was anticipating my enemy’s next move.
He might return, but if he did, Elise Dagon, heiress to the Dagon Estate, would be ready for him. Until that day arrived, I’d live on under my own terms.
THANK YOU!
Thank you for reading Under My Skin! Tate’s adventure continues in the next Immortality Strain Series book called Deep in My Bones.
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Shawntelle Madison is a Web developer who loves to weave words as well as code. She’d be reluctant to admit it, but if pressed, she’d say that she covets and collects source code. After losing her first summer job detasseling corn, Madison performed various jobs, from fast-food clerk to grunt programmer to university webmaster. Writing eccentric characters is her favorite job of all. On any given day when she’s not surgically attached to her computer, she can be found watching cheesy horror movies or the latest action-packed anime. Shawntelle Madison lives in Missouri with her husband and children.
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