The Skin Hunter Series Box Set

by Tania Hutley

  “I assembled our consortium so we could all speak together,” says the Beast. “Won’t you sit down and join us?” He motions to the knights who are standing stiffly behind me, ready for anything. “Your soldiers are welcome to wait outside.”

  My glee is disappearing fast. I expected to surprise him, and it’s disconcerting that he’s acting like I’ve arrived late to a meeting he invited me to attend. My plan was to barge in so I could threaten him with violence if he hurt any more people. But now that he’s invited me to join them, I might as well hear what they have to say.

  Leaving the knights where they are, I ease myself into one of the seats at the table. “So, talk.”

  The Beast and the other men all sit too, and I feel a moment of total unreality. It wasn’t so long ago that I spent my days punching out pieces of metal in a factory, and now I’m seated at an opulent boardroom table with the most powerful men in Triton. The view from the full-length windows isn’t nearly as good as the one from the Morelle scraper, and of course we’re not tall enough to see over the Deiterran wall, but it’s still impressive. And this room is even more richly decorated than Edward Morelle’s boardroom. The table looks like it’s been carved out of gold, there are rich red flowers everywhere, and a large bronze sculpture of the Beast’s ugly face is displayed against one wall.

  The Beast smiles at me again, his fleshy cheeks squashing into balls. “As you know, we’re reasonable men.” He motions to the others at the table. “If you stop being foolish, we can all be friends again.”

  One of the other men speaks up. “If you insist on giving free meals to workers, I want compensation for all the food I won’t be able to sell them.”

  Another man slaps his palm on the table, a scowl twisting his chiselled lips. “I don’t see why you had to break our deal in the first place. You build an army, and you think that entitles you to bankrupt us?”

  “Now, now, gentlemen. No need for raised voices.” The Beast turns to me. “Withdraw your attempt to raise the minimum wage, and we may be willing to discuss some alternative proposals for the other suggestions you’ve made.”

  “I’m not withdrawing anything.”

  The Beast clicks his tongue in disapproval, then leans forward to pick up a round glass ornament that’s decorating the table. Settling back in his chair, he tosses the ornament casually from hand to hand. It has a small red flower encased inside it, and looks heavy. Like a solid glass baseball.

  “Let’s cut to the chase,” he says. “Either we come to a deal that suits us all, or you’ll regret it. That’s a promise, and I’m a man of my word.”

  I put both hands on the table, watching him closely so I can snatch the ornament out of the air if he throws it at me. “I’m raising the minimum wage, giving away food and medical supplies, and doing everything else I promised. If you don’t like it, that’s too bad.”

  The men mutter angrily to each other, but only the Beast speaks up.

  “If you won’t negotiate, then your fight is with all of us,” he says. “Not just with me.”

  “As you say, I have an army.” My voice is cold. “Why should I negotiate?”

  “To avoid any further unpleasant incidents like the one you experienced at your shelter.” The Beast is still tossing the glass ball from hand to hand, and it reminds me of the popper his would-be assassin threw at me. “I’m sure you want to avoid killing any more innocent people?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking like he’s said something funny.

  “If you so much as think about killing any more people, I’ll have you arrested and charged with murder.”

  The Beast chuckles. “I don’t believe there’s a judge in Triton who’d allow me to spend even a minute behind bars.”

  “Then I’ll let the knights deal with you.”

  “You’re welcome to try, but it’s already been established that your Knight Skins have vulnerabilities. And you’re aware that Harrison here manufactures the weapons used by our brave police force.” He nods toward one of the men at the table. “We’re far from defenceless.”

  Harrison speaks up. “When you think about it, we don’t even need to destroy the knights. We only need to get to you. And there are six of us.”

  The man opposite him leans back in his chair, looking smug. “You may be the richest of us, but when we combine our resources, we have far more than you do.”

  “And I know your darkest secrets.” The Beast tilts his head. “For example, I know you can’t be Edward Morelle. You must have stolen his Skin. So who are you?”

  My stomach swoops. None of the men at the table have reacted to his announcement, so it’s not a surprise to them.

  “I don’t care what you know, or what you have,” I snarl. “Threaten me or anyone else, and you’ll find out how strong my knights really are.”

  The Beast catches the glass ball in one hand, then slowly stands up. His huge bulk takes up almost as much space as the knights do, and when I get to my feet, I feel tiny in comparison.

  He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “If you refuse to see reason, I’ll be forced to ask you to leave so we can continue our meeting without you. Allow me to escort you to the elevator.” With the glass ball clutched in one hand, he walks around the table toward me.

  My first instinct is to take a step back, but I’ve been around enough sharks not to show anything that could be mistaken for fear. “I’ll leave when I’m ready,” I snap.

  He stops next to me. “You’ve said what you came to say, and now we all know where we stand. Unless you’re going to order your knights to kill us here and now, we have nothing more to talk about.”

  I hesitate, tempted to command the knights to attack. But Sentin already ordered them not to hurt anyone or damage any property. What if they obey him and not me?

  “This was just a warning.” I turn and stalk back toward the elevators, motioning the knights to follow. “Next time, my soldiers won’t leave so easily.”

  The Beast follows me through the smashed door to the elevators. Then he stops and leans close. “It doesn’t matter who you are or how you obtained that Skin. If you go on this way, we’ll take you down.”

  I draw myself up, adrenaline coursing through my veins, making my blood pump hot. “How do you think you’ll do that? Maybe you know this is a Skin, but you clearly don’t know how strong I am, or you wouldn’t dare threaten me.”

  His face flushes. “You think you’re stronger than me?” Lifting the hand that’s holding the glass ball, he squeezes. The solid ball shatters into a thousand slivers of glass.

  I gape at his hand as he crunches what’s left of the ball, letting the pieces fall through his fingers. The glass didn’t cut him. He doesn’t have so much as a scratch. And no human could possibly be that strong.

  The Beast lets the glass fragments drop away, until all he’s holding is the small red flower that was in the center of the ball. He shakes it to ensure it’s free from glass, then hands it to me with a sarcastic bow. His fingers are twice the size of mine.

  Chapter Nine

  “Did you know the Beast is using a Skin?” I demand.

  Sentin blinks slowly. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, I can’t know everything.”

  I exchange a glance with Cale. We’re in my car, heading toward the breach in the Deiterran wall. Cale seems excited to see Deiterra, and Sentin’s been pushing hard to make this trip happen. I’m the only one who’s reluctant to go.

  “How many humanoid Skins do you think there are?” asks Cale.

  Sentin shakes his head. “I have no idea, though I’ve always assumed Edward Morelle made more humanoid Skins than just his own. The technology is an immensely valuable commodity, so it makes sense that Edward would exploit it.” He looks up, his eyes going distant, as though he’s making calculations in his head. “Of course, the Beast is wealthy enough to fund his own scientific research and development teams. If Edward sold him a Skin, he’s almost certainly used it as the basis for his own work. He could even be at the point
of being able to manufacture his own Skins by now, though Edward would have been foolish not to have retained an exclusive license for commercial distribution.”

  We’re close to where the hole was blown through the Deiterran wall, and the closer we get, the more I want to stop the car and take the knights back to Phoenix Industries.

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “Leaving now is terrible timing. We need to go back and find out what the Beast is up to. We can’t let him think he can do whatever he wants.”

  Cale frowns. “What if the other men you met in his boardroom were using Skins? If the confrontation had gotten physical, it would have been six against one.”

  Sentin’s jaw tightens. “In that respect, the consortium of industrialists aren’t the only ones we need to worry about.” He brings up his band’s controls and selects a recording. A hologram projects above his band. It’s a Knight Skin. As the camera pulls back, I see the Skin is inside a small, white room, surrounded by other machines. Wires snake out of it, and numbers cascade down the screens it’s hooked up to.

  “This footage was recorded in a laboratory in Deiterra,” Sentin says. “They have a number of Knight Skins there, presumably collected after the Fist launched their attack on the Meat Locker and disabled some of the Knights that were engaged in combat on the other side of the wall.” From the look he gives us, I guess he knows it was me and Cale who wiped the soldiers’ chips.

  The holo image zooms in, focusing on the Skin’s head. I’d thought the knights’ armor was unbreakable, but its head has been cracked open like an egg, and its brain matter scraped away to expose the circuits embedded in the tissue.

  “What are they doing?” I ask.

  “The Deiterrans are reverse engineering the Skin technology. They’re developing their own Skins.”

  Cale frowns. “Creating their own Skin army?”

  Sentin nods. “The knights came close to penetrating the palace and ending the imperator’s rule. He’d be foolish not to want to use the same technology as a means to fight back.”

  “In that case, we need to stop them.” I let out a long breath. “But if they’re putting together their own Skins, what makes you think they’ll want to negotiate a peace treaty?”

  “I don’t believe they have everything they need to be able to activate the Skins. But the longer we delay our trip, the longer they’ll have to perfect the technology.”

  The car stops. Fallen buildings block our path so we can’t drive any further. From here, we’ll have to walk.

  “What exactly are we going to say to the imperator?” I ask.

  “The Deiterran imperator is a difficult man. He keeps the country under tight control, and our negotiations will require delicacy.”

  I expect Sentin to say more, but instead he opens the car door and gets out.

  Cale meets my gaze. “That wasn’t an answer,” he mutters.

  I grimace, and go after Sentin. For the first time since transferring into the President’s Skin, I’m wearing comfortable clothes. Not quite as comfortable as the jeans and T-shirts Doctor Gregory gave me when I first arrived at the Morelle Corporation, but at least my shoes are flat-soled and practical. The trousers and blouse I have on are formal enough not to feel under-dressed if I’m wearing them when I meet the Deiterran imperator, but I should be able to walk a long distance in them. And the knights are carrying our luggage, in case we need to stay in Deiterra for a night or two.

  The ground here is uneven, littered with rubble though we’re still a reasonable distance from the breach. I pick my way through the debris with Cale by my side. Behind us, all the knights are marching together. Their boots crash to the ground in unison, in spite of the rocks strewn over the ground.

  They’re all coming to Deiterra with us, to protect us in case the imperator decides it’s easier to kill us than strike a peace treaty. I’m trying not to be alarmed by the fact Sentin thought we should take all forty-seven knights with us. But I guess it’s better than leaving them behind.

  I call ahead to Sentin. “Aren’t you going to tell us more about what we’re getting into?”

  He stops and waits for Cale and me to draw level with him. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Anything.” I motion for the soldiers to stop marching. “How about you start by telling us why you’ve always refused to say anything about Deiterra.”

  “Because that information is classified.”

  “Classified by who?”

  Sentin gives one of his slow blinks, and I think it’s his way of expressing shock that I’d ask a question with such an obvious answer. “Triton is severely overcrowded. What would happen if fifty million people learned how much space there was on the other side of the wall?”

  “The Fist would find a way to blow up the wall,” says Cale.

  “Anarchy.” Sentin nods. “The information was suppressed for fear of sparking an open revolt. If I were to speak openly about Deiterra, I would have been arrested.”

  A horrible thought occurs to me. I move close to Sentin and drop my voice to a lower murmur, trying to make sure none of the knights can hear us with their bat-like ears. “Does the imperator know it was Morelle who blew the hole in the wall? I mean, does he think I did it?”

  Sentin shakes his head. “Fortunately, the imperator is certain that President Trask ordered the wall destroyed.” He speaks in the same low tone, bending so his lips are near my ear. “The imperator is aware of how vulnerable he’s become in recent years, and assumes the President considered him an easy target.”

  Cale is bent close too, the three of us in a private huddle. Cale’s cologne mingles with Sentin’s, and both scents fill my lungs. Cale’s is fresh and crisp, while Sentin’s is a rich spice with a tantalizing hint of sweetness.

  My senses are so sharp, I can also detect both the wound on Sentin’s palm where he cut himself on the broken glass from Felicity’s window, and the faint tang of the healing spray he’s coated it with.

  “Why is the imperator vulnerable?” asks Cale.

  “When the wall was built, Deiterra was a progressive society. Since then, Triton has continued to advance while Deiterra’s technology has stagnated. When the knights invaded, Deiterra could offer little resistance.”

  I glance back at the knights, picturing them sweeping through Deiterra, slaughtering everyone they saw. It’s easy enough to imagine after I watched them mow down the Deiterran fighters who tried to attack through the breach in the wall.

  “Why hasn’t Deiterra kept up with our technology?” I ask, suppressing a shiver.

  “It’s a rural economy with a comparatively low population base. Rather than having democratic elections, the Deiterrans are ruled by a single autocratic family. That family has always believed in preserving the integrity of their agricultural lifestyle. Schooling is considered to have been completed after the student graduates from a secondary level, and the imperator hasn’t prioritized innovation.”

  “When was the last time you were in Deiterra?” I ask curiously.

  His eyes focus on me. The bright sunlight turns his irises more silver than gray, reminding me of his Reptile Skin. “I left when I was fourteen.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  A cloud passes across his expression. “No.” He glances down, and I get the impression he’s remembering something unpleasant. Then he gives his head a small shake, as though dismissing whatever happened to him in Deiterra. “We should keep moving. The imperator is expecting us.”

  He motions to the knights and starts walking, obviously done with answering questions.

  “Before going through the wall, I’d like to know more about what’s on the other side,” mutters Cale.

  I nod. Sentin told us more than he normally does, but I’m still itching to turn him upside down and shake all the secrets out of his brain. There must be deep hurts in his past, but they’re buried deep and he’s obviously reluctant to go digging for them.

  I guess I can relate. Butterflies and r
ainbows weren’t a feature of my childhood either.

  Cale and I follow Sentin, and when we get close to the breach in the wall, he stops again to let us catch up. The knights stop behind us, somehow managing to stand in formation, though we’re surrounded by enormous piles of concrete and steel debris.

  This is where Tori went through the wall.

  Thanks to the mountains of rubble, it’s difficult to tell how wide the opening is. Part of New Triton collapsed, so there are actual apartment buildings lying across the breach. The wall’s a lot taller than Old Triton, perhaps as much as one hundred stories tall, and rubble descends from the damaged section like giant stone waterfalls. It’s as much a labyrinth as an opening.

  At least we don’t have to worry about the wall’s automatic defence system any more. If Triton still had aircraft, we probably could have flown to the other side without being shot down.

  “So we just walk through?” asks Cale. “And the Deiterrans will be waiting for us on the other side?”

  “That’s right.”

  Cale glances at me. “Tori went through at night. Maybe the Deiterrans didn’t see her. She might be taking a good look around Deiterra.”

  Sentin shakes his head. “Your friend shouldn’t have tried to get in. She’ll be a prisoner by now, if they haven’t already executed her.”

  My stomach drops. “You have spies over there, right? Somebody must have given you that footage of the Knight Skins. Have you heard anything about Tori?”

  “I haven’t received any word about her, but I know the imperator.”

  “If he’s hurt Tori—”

  “Even if he has, the peace we’re going to negotiate is too important to jeopardise.” Sentin fixes me with his direct gaze, his jaw set. “If the Deiterrans develop their own Skin army and launch a counter attack, millions could die on both sides of the wall. Is that what you want?”