The Skin Hunter Series Box Set

by Tania Hutley

  “Are you ready to go now?” Cale leads me back to the car. “That’s if you’ve finished provoking The Beast?” He shakes his head, his expression rueful. “You never back down, do you?”

  “I’m leaving, aren’t I?” I look back at the milling crowd, still reluctant to just walk away. “You need to tell Keren and Spade that I’m sorry this happened, but I’m not going to let the Beast stop me.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. Just take care of yourself.”

  All the way back to the Morelle scraper, I think about how I’m going to get payback for what just happened. By the time I get up to my private apartment, the ringing in my ears has gone, but my anger hasn’t. All it takes is a little soap and water, and a change of clothes, and I’m ready to keep fighting back.

  I’ve just finished getting changed when I hear the elevator. Sentin must be here, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to be pissed off I didn’t tell him about my plans to distribute food.

  Sure enough, I find him in the living room, dressed, as always, in black. And yes, it suits him. But this time it seems symbolic, because I’ve put on a cream suit. It feels like we’re like two opposing chess players lining up across the board.

  I square my shoulders, ready for him to berate me, and already planning the arguments I’ll use in my defence.

  Frowning, he lifts one hand to grip my forearm. “Are you injured?” His gaze goes up and down my body in a way that reminds me so much of the way Cale looked at me that my heart does an unwelcome skip. Was he worried for me?

  But no, that’s silly. He’s only worried that this Skin might have been damaged, not really about me. “No wounds,” I say crisply.

  He drops his hand. “Good.”

  “This Skin is fine,” I add, crossing to the window. “No thanks to the Beast. He was trying to kill me, and didn’t care who else he hurt.”

  “Do you understand the consequences if the President’s Skin had been destroyed?” The tightness in Sentin’s voice makes me turn back to face him. His eyes are darker than normal and his lips are pale. For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s not entirely in control of his emotions. But is he angry? Or afraid?

  “Blame the Beast,” I say. “Not me.”

  “If President Morelle dies in public, we can’t manufacture a new Skin and keep going. If that happens, everything changes.”

  I cross my arms. “There’s only one way to make sure this Skin stays safe. Help me stop him.”

  Sentin takes off his high-tech glasses and studies the lenses as though looking for smudges. When he puts them back on, his emotions are tucked back out of sight. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” His tone is even. “But you’re rushing through changes that Triton isn’t yet ready for.”

  “Old Triton is more than ready for change.”

  “But New Triton isn’t. And using that Skin means you can live forever. Stop trying to fix everything this week, or this month. Start planning for the next hundred years.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” I frown. “But you’re not using a Skin. In your human body, you won’t live forever. If you want to be around next century, don’t you need to store your human body in one of those coffin pods that’ll keep it pumped full of whatever chemicals Edward Morelle was dosed with?”

  “A pod is the opposite of a coffin. Think of it as a time capsule. When your body is inside it, you’re outside of time.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Are you going to use one? And are you planning to take this Skin away from me?” I lift my chin. “Because I won’t let you have it. Not if you don’t care about Old Triton.”

  “I’m not about to take that Skin from you.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Why not?”

  “If I used a Skin now, I’d lose the Deiterrans’ trust. We need to negotiate a peace treaty. That’s my priority.”

  “And after the negotiations?”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you want to keep that Skin?”

  “I do.” It’s not until the words are out of my mouth that I realize how important the president’s power has become to me. Helping Old Triton has given me a sense of purpose that’s bigger than anything I’ve felt before. Maybe I’d be willing to give the Skin up if Sentin felt the same way, but if he doesn’t care about Old Triton, he could be as bad—or worse—than Edward Morelle was. He might decide to leave Old Triton the way it is, so New Tritoners can stay rich and comfortable. I’m not willing to take that risk.

  I draw in a breath, a rush of resolve heating my blood. “You can’t have this Skin. And another thing. I’m not going to Deiterra with you until I’ve dealt with the Beast.”

  I expect Sentin to get angry, or demand that I go. Instead, he turns and motions for me to follow. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He walks toward the stairs that lead to the garden at the very top of the building. A robot gardener is tending the plants, and the room is humid, with the ventilation system emitting a steady hum. Up here, the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and growing things. All the walls and ceiling are uninterrupted glass, and the view takes my breath away.

  “What do you see?” Sentin nods toward the windows.

  I frown, confused by the question. “Skyscrapers. Triton and Deiterra. And a lot of sky. Why, what do you see?”

  He turns to the glass, and his gaze grows distant. “I see a blueprint. I don’t limit my vision to what exists today. Instead, I picture what could be there in the coming decades. Looking over the entire city, small problems become insignificant.” He turns back to me, his eyes catching mine. “If you let go of your petty concerns, we can remodel Triton and Deiterra into a single utopia. You and I could do it together.”

  An unwelcome warmth spreads through my chest. I’ve never had someone ask me to change the world with him before. I’ve got to admit, it’s a powerful offer. But for some reason, I feel like I’m betraying Cale by even considering it.

  “Petty concerns?” To cover my uncertainty, I sound more offended than I really am.

  He inclines his head. “The workers in Old Triton aren’t starving. Their existing food rations provide sufficient calories for their daily needs.”

  I huff out a breath. “Shows what you know.”

  “You’re focusing on trivial things. Instead of concerning yourself with minutiae, start thinking on a much larger scale.”

  “Trivial? You wouldn’t think it was so trivial if you were the one going hungry.” I shake my head. “How can you make everything wonderful unless you fix what’s already broken?”

  “You’re not an Old Tritoner anymore, Milla. Come up from the darkness and look at everything that’s laid out in front of you. There’s more on offer than you realize.” He sounds like he’s talking about the view, but then he steps closer to me, his eyes searching my face, and with a shock, I wonder if he’s talking about himself, telling me to look at him differently.

  But that’s a crazy thought. Sentin couldn’t be suggesting I see him in a romantic way.

  He’s taller than I am, so I have to tilt my head back to look into his face. He’s bathed in the light that’s pouring through the windows, and he’s wearing a snug black T-shirt and black jeans that emphasise his lean build. His scent is as complicated as he is, both sweet and spicy, like licorice and aniseed.

  “We need to go to Deiterra,” he says. “The meeting’s arranged, and this is our chance to negotiate peace on our terms.” Instead of his usual matter-of-fact tone, there’s a hint of a question in his voice. As though he’s asking me to understand how important this is to him.

  “But I can’t let the Beast get away with what he did today.” I shake my head, wrenching my gaze from his.

  Sentin sighs. “The Beast can wait.”

  “You don’t understand how vulnerable the people of Old Triton are. They have no protection against people like him.” I nod at the spectacular view. “Those scrapers go on forever, and they’re all full of people. No wonder New Tritoners forg
et there’s a whole other city underneath them. And all the way up here, it’d be even easier to forget. But I can’t do that.”

  “You can’t see the bigger picture.” It’s a statement rather than a question, and it’s tinged with disappointment. Was Sentin hoping I’d choose his grand plan and stop caring about Old Triton?

  “I’m only where I am because of dumb luck,” I tell him. “If Rayne hadn’t walked into the shelter that night, I’d still be there. If I were still alive, that is, which is doubtful, seeing as Tori had just been sent away. I probably would have been shark bait, dead in the dirt. She died instead, and I got lucky.”

  He tilts his head, his voice going unexpectedly soft. “That Skin is changing you in subtle ways, and I thought it might make you narcissistic, but the opposite is true. You fought to get where you are, yet you’re not giving yourself enough credit for what you’ve achieved.”

  My face warms and I glance away to hide my surprise. Sentin’s never like this. He’s distant and unemotional. He doesn’t give out compliments that make my heart beat faster.

  “Now I want to fight for all the people who didn’t get lucky,” I say. “Maybe I feel guilty because I made it out and they didn’t. Whatever. I can help them, so I will.”

  “A war with the Beast isn’t productive. Besides, he’s far more ruthless than you are, and he’s demonstrated a willingness to endanger the people you’re trying to protect. Strategically speaking, it would be difficult for you to win a fight against him.”

  “But when it comes to strategy, I have a secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?”

  I shoot him a hopeful look. “You.”

  Chapter Eight

  “The soldiers are all here,” Sentin tells me in a low voice. “All but the forty-seven who’ll remain as knights.”

  I nod, though Sentin’s wrong about one thing. Morelle’s young, brainwashed soldiers aren’t all here. William is missing, because I sent him home with Ma.

  We’re standing in the lobby of the Meat Locker. The last time I was here, I used a Knight Skin to get in, and wiped the chips of hundreds of soldiers before carrying William out. This time, the soldiers are lined up in rows, standing to attention in the giant room that used to hold over a thousand pods. I can still see the marks the pods left on the concrete floor. Without them, the place is an endless, echoing chasm that still reeks of sweat.

  The soldiers are mostly teenagers, with a few older ones here and there. There are just over one thousand of them, all standing stiffly in an identical position with one hand to their forehead in a held salute.

  I watched some of them use their Knight Skins to kill innocent people, but I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not their fault. The reason they’re killers is because Edward Morelle made them that way.

  “At ease,” I say, sending my voice through my band so it projects through the enormous room.

  All of their hands snap down at the same time. They stare straight ahead, their eyes lifted to the space just above my head, awaiting my orders.

  I’m about to break their hearts.

  “The Knight Skins are gone,” I say in a firm tone. “Permanently. The ones you used have been destroyed, and I’m not making any more of them.”

  I pause to let the soldiers react. Most give me a shocked, wide-eyed stare, before managing to drag their gaze back to the wall above me. Some go pale. A few sway. They don’t make any sounds, let alone protest or break ranks, but they have to be feeling the same way I did when I lost my Leopard Skin. Like they’re never going to be fully alive again.

  I take a breath, and keep my voice hard. “From now on, your job will be to make Old Triton safe. You’ll patrol my factories and shelters, and guard the vulnerable. You’ll take care of the weak, and make sure there are no more attacks, bombings, rapes, or murders in Old Triton.”

  It’s a dangerous move, turning these young soldiers into a new form of stompers. The Knight Skins made them ruthless, and Old Tritoners have no defence against them if they decide to keep up their reign of terror. But the soldiers have been idle since the Fist destroyed most of the Knight Skins, and hopefully by giving them a sense of purpose I can help them change for the better.

  “I have rivals who are trying to hurt me,” I announce. “You’ve all heard about the attack on the shelter yesterday. I need you to keep watch and make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”

  I sweep my gaze around their faces. Either their shock is fading, or discovering they’re going to be guarding against a real threat has perked them up. There’s a new lift to their chins, and a hardness in their eyes that I hope is determination.

  “Do you understand your new role, soldiers?”

  “Yes, Madam President.” The shout comes from every mouth, in perfect unison. It’s so loud, the walls vibrate.

  “You’ll be closely monitored. If I hear of anyone stepping out of line, there’ll be no second chances. Any soldier who even thinks about hurting one of the people you’re supposed to be protecting will be discharged.” I pause to run a stern gaze along the lines of Old Triton faces. “Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Madam President.” The shout is loud enough to hurt my ears.

  I nod at them, turn, and walk out. I’ve already briefed their commanding officers, and Cale has asked the Fist to keep a close eye on them.

  Still, I’d feel a lot better about this if I hadn’t agreed to leave for Deiterra tomorrow, and was here to monitor them myself. Instead I’ll have to trust their officers to obey the strict rules I’ve set.

  “That was a good start,” I tell Sentin in the car as we head back to New Triton. “But it’s the next part that I’m looking forward to.”

  He frowns. “This is more risky than I’d like. I’d prefer if you didn’t go through with it.”

  “Oh, I’m going through with it. And thanks for arranging it, even though you’re against it.”

  “If I didn’t, you’d do something even riskier.”

  I shoot him a grin. “You know me too well.”

  Our car locks into the bullet track, lifting out of the darkness of Old Triton and into the brightness of the city above. I lean forward, peering out of the window at the skyscrapers coming into view. The one I’m searching for is tall enough to stand out from the buildings around it, though it’s still dwarfed by the Morelle Corporation building.

  “That’s the Beast’s scraper?” I ask, pointing.

  Sentin nods. “Phoenix Industries.” He checks his band. “The knights are arriving now.”

  I rub my hands together. “This is going to be fun.”

  Sentin heaves an exaggerated sigh, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

  I laugh. “Come on, can you really tell me you’re not going to enjoy this? The Beast had his shark throw poppers around a crowded shelter. He deserves worse than a little scare. In fact, he’s lucky I’m not planning to march into his office with some explosives of my own.”

  He shakes his head, his expression serious. “We agreed that you’d deliver your warning, and leave without incident. I expect you to keep your side of the deal. Remember, nothing is more important than our trip to Deiterra.”

  When the car pulls up outside the front doors of Phoenix Industries, I find forty-seven knights waiting for me, as promised. They’re lined up on the sidewalk, standing to attention. Their huge bodies look threatening even when they’re just standing still, especially because their over-sized arms hang to mid-thigh. They’re killing machines, pure and simple.

  “Stay here,” I tell Sentin, sliding out of the car. But he’s already getting out of the other side.

  When he strides up to the knights, they salute, then stand to attention. “This is a non-violent mission,” he announces. “Your objective is to intimidate, but you may not injure civilians or destroy property. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” The response booms from forty-seven obedient knights.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I mutter to him. Then I
raise my voice. “Ready, knights? Follow me.”

  I march into the scraper with the knights on my heels. The loud stomping of their metallic boots on the ground no longer gives me chills. Hopefully today, the sound will scare some New Tritoners for a change.

  On the other side of the building’s big, marble lobby is a reception desk with a startled-looking woman standing behind it. But I already know where I’m going, and lead the knights to the elevators behind her.

  “Excuse me.” Her voice shakes as she calls after me. “May I help you, Madam President? I’m so sorry, but will you allow me to announce you before you go up?”

  I turn and give her a pleasant smile. “Certainly. Please tell the Beast we’re coming for him. Let him know that if he’s not already in his boardroom on the top floor, he’d better hustle his ass up there before we start breaking things.”

  There are far too many of us to get in one elevator, so I keep pressing the button until eight elevators have arrived at ground level. We all get into them at once, and arrive on the top floor of the building at the same time. I stride out first, and all the knights spill out after me, organising themselves into orderly rows.

  There’s a small waiting area outside the elevators, and large double glass doors that lead into the Beast’s enormous boardroom. Instead of pushing the doors open, I ram my fists into them with all my strength, one into each door. It hurts the hell out of my knuckles, but they shatter into a million tiny pieces with a very satisfying sound. When I step forward, my heels crunch the glass into the Beast’s plush carpet.

  Inside the boardroom, six men are sitting at the large table. The Beast pries his huge bulk out of his chair at the head of the table, nodding as though he was expecting me. The receptionist must have warned him we were on our way.

  “President Morelle. Welcome.” His big lips twist up into a smile. “I believe you know everyone here.”

  The five other men at the table all stand too, and I realize I do know them. At least, I recognize their faces from the holo. They’re all wealthy, and they own factories. They look enough alike that they could be brothers, but I guess that’s just the tweaking. Maybe they all used the same surgeon. With his bald head and fleshy face, the Beast is the only one who stands out.