by Tania Hutley
“It’ll be fine.” For some reason, it comes out peevish. I don’t even know why I’m angry, and it’s not because of anything he’s done. I’m mad with myself.
“Are you okay, Rayne?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I push past him, into the hall.
He throws a frowning glance at me again when he uses his gadget to open the door, but doesn’t say anything.
Once we’re in the darkness of the hallway, Cale lies down first. I hesitate, staring at his dark outline, waiting for his breathing to slow.
This is crazy. I’m facing the most important day of my life, and instead of concentrating on how I’m going to win the contest, I’m getting myself worked up about Cale.
I wish I knew how he feels about me. It’s much easier when we’re in our Skins, I know Cale the tiger is attracted to leopard me. And when I’m the leopard I’m not afraid to like him back.
When I’m the leopard I feel strong, sure, but it’s more than that. Leopard me is different from human me, a million times removed from a weak girl struggling on the filthy floor of a shelter. And a tiger’s not a man. The tiger doesn’t have a man’s rough hands, or a man’s eager, rancid breath.
But does Cale’s tiger look at my leopard that way only because that’s what felines do? Or is it more than that?
When I’m in my Skin the why doesn’t matter so much. It’s when we’re not in our Skins that I get confused.
I lie down beside him, but don’t close my eyes right away. For some reason I’m picturing my mother and father lying next to each other in their bed, before Papa died.
Funny that the memory’s not as painful as it used to be. In the shelter I’d do anything not to have to remember that time. I didn’t want to think about how easy it used to be to live and laugh and go to school and have a mother and father, and a baby brother. The memory used to stab like a blade in my chest, but now there’s no pain.
Maybe it doesn’t hurt because in spite of the pressure of the upcoming contest, life here is so good. Instead of sweating on my feet all day and spending dangerous nights in the shelter, I get to be the leopard instead. How blissful is that?
I close my human eye. Open leopard eyes. It’s a rush. Far from the thrill wearing off, the more I’m the leopard, the better it gets. My human body feels so wrong compared to this one.
Cale is prowling in the big training room, waiting for me. As always, I can sense his joy at being the tiger. It mixes with my own and makes it even stronger.
Cale’s head turns toward me. He’s admiring how gracefully I move. My feet don’t make a sound as I pad softly across the floor. Right now I could take on Aza, Brugan and Sentin at once. I want to fight them. I want to stretch my leopard to its limit, to find out if it even has a limit.
To win the contest I’ll have to fight at least one of them. Am I ready? I feel invincible, but they’re just as strong as I am. Cale’s strong too, but I’m faster. Could I beat him?
“Let’s fight,” I say.
“In the battle-bot?”
“The battle-bot’s too safe. Let’s really fight.”
He gets my meaning straight away because his tail swishes with eagerness and the fur along his spine lifts. He wants to test his skill as much as I do. But after a moment, his tail lowers and he shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rayne.”
I snort. “Worry about yourself.”
“I’ve got saber-teeth as well as claws.”
“Afraid of me?” I taunt. “You’ve never been in a fight, have you?”
“Rayne, I—”
I cut him off with a snarl. I’m facing him, ears back against my skull, crouched low against the ground. He must be able to feel my excitement. From the tang of his scent and the way his weight’s shifting between his front paws, his is just as strong.
“How’re you going to fight in the arena, if you can’t fight me now?” I mimic Brugan’s voice. “Scared, little kitty cat?”
He growls, low in his throat. His ears flatten and his mouth drops open, his long front fangs glistening. He stretches his body into a long sleek shape. I can feel anticipation fizzing through him, matching my own.
We circle each other, slinking low to the ground, tails twitching. Both alert to the other’s slightest movement. He won’t attack first. He’s holding back, waiting to see what I’ll do. If I rush him he’ll have the advantage.
I pace lightly, whiskers quivering, resisting the growl that’s threatening to rise out of me, the instinct that’s telling me to throw myself at him with claws and teeth. Think! When I fought Max, I feinted one way then lunged the other, but that’s too clumsy a trick to use against the tiger. Is there another way to use my speed to get the advantage?
I crouch on my haunches and he mirrors me, anticipating my leap, poised to meet my spring in mid-air with his powerful front claws. Suddenly he’s not kind, sensitive Cale anymore, but a savage animal.
I gather my strength and leap as high as I can, soaring over his head.
He isn’t expecting it and doesn’t react quickly enough. His claws rake my belly, but my thick fur protects me and I barely feel it. I hit the ground and don’t slow down, racing toward the climbing frame. By the time he’s turned to follow I’ve got a few lengths on him. Perfect. I launch myself at a low platform while I’m still a few strides away, then use it as a spring board to rebound from. I twist in the air, turning my body into a missile. My strength and weight is aimed at Cale’s head.
I smash into him with claws extended. We tumble, skidding along the ground in a tangle of fur, teeth and claws. Pain sears through my side. We skid to a stop and when he tries to struggle to his paws I cry out.
“Rayne!”
“Just. Don’t. Move.”
I count three deep breaths, then gasp as I ease one of his big front teeth out of my body. I push myself away from him and stand, winded and unsteady.
“God, Rayne, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Pain turns the word into a growl. At least I can stand, but my side’s on fire and the sweet, hot scent of blood fills my senses.
Shit, what have I done? They’re going to wonder how my leopard got injured in the middle of the night when we’re supposed to be asleep in bed. And the contest’s only a few days away.
“I’m sorry, Rayne.” He doesn’t look good either. I must have torn a chunk of fur out of his head because tufts of hair are floating around him.
I manage to lift my tail enough to twitch it back and forth. Almost as good as a shaky smile. “Good move, huh?”
He grimaces. “I hurt all over.” He steps close to me, nuzzling his nose against my neck. “But you’re the one I’m worried about.”
His face moves to my injured side. I feel something warm and wet against my fur. For a second my human brain makes me flinch away. Then the leopard takes over, and I move toward him, letting him clean my wound with long strokes of his tongue.
He’s still breathing deeply. Both of us are. His tiger body is against me, closer than I could ever let anyone get to my human body. But I’m the leopard now, not a weak girl. I can let my human mind, my human fears drift away. His tongue moves over me, licking my shoulders, down my sides. A noise forces from my throat, an animal sound, halfway between a snarl and a purr.
He pushes against me, his tongue insistent. He’s not just cleaning my wound any more. His scent turns to musk. His head moves above mine, his body pushing me to the ground. His teeth bite into my neck. I stretch out, not fighting, letting him pin me to the floor.
He’s strong, but so am I. I could throw him off if I needed to, and the knowledge is enough to both soothe and excite me. It lets me press my body against his while he runs his tongue over my fur.
He growls and nips me as he licks. His tongue is first tender, then rough. As he covers my body with rasping strokes, I feel his need swell, his heartbeat speed up.
My pulse joins his, racing alongside it. His longing fills me. It’s our longing, our hunger joined. It grows with ever
y growling, urgent stroke of his tongue. It consumes me. He tastes of tiger musk. Dangerous. Beautiful. I suck him in like oxygen.
“Rayne,” he breathes. “So fierce. So brave.”
I let out a hoarse laugh, stretching my wound to test it. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
He stops licking my side to nuzzle my neck. “I’m not talking about that. You know what I feel whenever I see you?”
“Human or leopard?”
“Both.”
Possibilities flit through my mind. Shock. Pity. Revulsion. But those words belong to my human body only, not my leopard.
“What?” I ask.
“Awe,” he whispers.
I pull back to ask what he means. But then I see the heat in his beautiful golden gaze, and the question vanishes.
A shivery thrill runs over me, and I push my nose under his neck, biting him with playful nips. Wanting him with a fierceness that takes me totally by surprise. I’ve never felt anything like this. Though I wriggle against him, we’re not close enough. I need his mouth on me, his body pressing hard on mine.
His front paws urge me to roll over. He nuzzles the fur on my chest and belly. When his head comes close enough, I take one of his ears into my mouth and worry it with my teeth. A sound of pleasure rumbles deep in his throat. As his body covers me, I answer with my own. His weight feels so good my growl becomes a cry.
Then I feel him hesitate. As if his thoughts were in my mind, I know he’s worried about my injury. But I won’t let him stop. Instead I bite his neck, pulling him down on me, pressing harder against him. My need for him is stronger than any pain.
“Rayne.” He groans my name. “Oh God, Rayne.”
Then he wrenches away.
There’s a noise outside the door.
“It’s Aza.” I surge up to standing.
“Quick, Rayne, go!”
We race for our lab rooms. At first he runs beside me, supporting me across the training room floor, then we split to run for our own rooms. Aza’s inside the door, in the training room, feeling for the light.
Cale reaches his room. But pain stabs through my side and I stumble.
The light goes on.
“Rayne?” Aza gasps.
I don’t stop. One more leap and I make it into the lab room, onto the metal disk. I close my eyes and transfer.
As soon as my eyes flick open, Cale pulls me to my feet. “Quick, let’s go.”
I take off down the hall ahead of him before remembering I’m not supposed to jolt my eye. With an effort, I force myself to slow down.
Cale slows too. Worry is etched into every line of his expression. “Are you all right?”
“Aza saw me.” My fists clench, and I want to beat my stupid head against the wall. “She’ll go straight to Director Morelle and I’ll get kicked out. Why did I risk breaking the rules?”
“We’ll both go and confess. I’ll say I talked you into training at night, that you didn’t want to. If anyone gets thrown out, it should be me.”
“Cale, I can’t confess. I can’t take the chance.”
“But—”
“You don’t understand. This means everything to me.” I swallow hard. Have I just ruined everything?
“Then it’s better if you tell Director Morelle your side, before she hears it from Aza.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to keep my mouth shut and hope like hell they let it drop. There are only four days before the contest. They’re not going to want to replace me now.”
“Are you sure?”
“If I admit I’ve been breaking the rules, they won’t be able to ignore it. Better to pretend nothing’s happened and hope they do they same.” We reach the door and I crack it open to check the coast is clear. “Get back to your room, Cale. Best if they don’t catch us together, just in case.”
He bends toward me like he’s going to kiss me. Instinctively I jump back, pulling my arm from his grip.
His hurt expression makes me want to kick myself. If we had more time, I’d be able to explain how it’s not his fault, and he hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s easy to be together when I’m the leopard, but in my human body I just can’t.
“See you in the training room.” It comes out colder than I intend. I don’t want to be so distant, but years of fear and hurt and bad memories have clogged my throat. My human tongue feels thick and clumsy.
It’s only the leopard that isn’t afraid. Only in my Skin can I be free.
It’s not until I’m safely back in my room, and my heart has slowed down from racing a million beats a second, that I realize my body’s sore and blood is soaking through my T-shirt. Lifting my shirt in front of the mirror, I ease it away from a jagged gash that runs up my side.
I stare at it for a long time, because I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing.
Sliced into my human body is a wound in the same place as the cut on my leopard. A wound that looks like it was made by a tiger’s tooth.
22
I clean my wound as best I can with a wet towel, pressing hard on it until the bleeding eventually stops. But what can I use for a bandage? A strip of towel? I could use my blade to cut the cloth.
Even taking my time as I gingerly carry the chair to the closet reopens the wound so I have to stop and press on it again. But finally I’m on the chair, stretching up to feel the back of the shelf.
My blade has gone.
I last got it out a couple of days ago, and definitely put it back. Someone must have taken it. But how did they know it was there?
I’m being watched.
A cold shiver runs down my backbone.
I’m so stupid. Of course they’ve been watching me. All this time I’ve been kidding myself that security’s slack, that I’ve been getting away with training at night, because I wanted to believe it. Because I hate not being the leopard and can’t bear to stop. But Director Morelle must know what’s been going on. The only question is, why has she let me carry on?
I can’t think, my side’s throbbing. First things first, I’ve got to take care of my wound. The towel’s too thick to tear without the blade, so I rip one of my lovely new T-shirts into strips to tie around my middle. Wincing, I pull a couple of layers of clothes on over the top, choosing dark colors in case blood spots manage to soak through.
Could someone have cut my body while my mind was in my Skin? No, I can’t believe that, the cut matches the one on my leopard too closely. Somehow my body must have conjured up a wound.
No time to worry about it now. I’m late for training as it is.
When I walk into the training room the others are already in their Skins. Cale’s at the base of the never-wall, watching Aza and Sentin climb, and Brugan’s fighting the battle-bot. I stride toward my lab room, my aching need to be the leopard making me walk as fast as I can while praying my wound doesn’t start bleeding again.
But Doctor Gregory intercepts me. Her kind face looks concerned. “Rayne, Aza told me…” She hesitates, glancing across the training room.
I follow her gaze. Aza has soared off the never-wall and is flying at me, her wings propelling her across the hall in long, purposeful leaps. Cale lopes after her, his tail low and his ears flattened against his skull.
My stomach flips over. So much for my faint hope Aza won’t say anything. I leave the doctor and step forward to meet her.
Aza rushes at me so fast, I brace for impact. She stops just before she ploughs into me, and towers over me, thin and beautiful. The top half of her wasp face doesn’t show any expression, but her fury’s so strong it makes even my dull human senses flinch. Her black helmet shimmers with light and her wings quiver, lifting and falling like red gossamer lungs.
“You’ve been cheating,” she hisses.
Cale growls. His hackles are lifted, his teeth bared. I wave him back. Though I’m only in my weak human body, this is my problem to handle.
A stinger shoots out from Aza’s right palm. She sweeps it in front of me, threatening me. It’s
a graceful move, like a dance. She reminds me so much of Tori, warning off a shark with her blade, that my heart twists. Tori has the same unconscious grace, and a fearlessness that kept both of us safe.
“I took some extra training time,” I say, my thoughts of Tori making me more honest than I’d intended.
Aza curls her top lip as her hand sweeps back, completing the curve. “You admit it?”
Instinctively I lift my weak, human hand and extend my own soft palm toward her. The comparison is absurd. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Aza’s wings go still as she stares down at my pale, work-battered hand. I’m no threat, not like this. She may as well rage at a bug. Her stinger retracts back into her palm leaving it smooth. Her full red lips press together, then release as she lets out a sharp breath.
“Cheating won’t help you. I’m faster than you and I’m going to beat you.”
I incline my head. An acknowledgement, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “We’ll see.”
She spins gracefully, dismissing me. The human me isn’t worth bothering with. We both agree on that.
Cale pads beside me as I head to the training room, his tiger’s tail switching anxiously from side to side. “Sure you’re okay, Rayne? I can smell blood.”
“It’s okay.” I touch his shoulder, running my hand across the softness of his fur, down the big muscle that’s flexing as he walks. He blinks his golden eyes and when I offer him a smile, he nuzzles my cheek. His nose is cold, and his breath warm. His fresh scent is like soft rain falling around me.
Just one touch and he’s forgiven me for stepping away from him last night. If only it were that easy to reach out to him when he’s human.
A low, harsh snarl makes me turn my head. Brugan’s in the fighting ring, his devil bear mouth twisted in a snarl, and his human-looking torso covered with sweat. He must really have been laying into the battle-bot. But now his eyes are fixed on me and filled with a rage blacker than Aza’s. The strength of his fury chills me.
I need to be the leopard.
When I transfer, I find my leopard’s wound doesn’t hurt as much as my human one. But the stench of devil bear’s getting stronger. Brugan’s strides across the room toward me, and I walk out to meet him, Cale by my side.