Under My Skin (29 page)

Cecelia.

My heart threatened to stop. Would she run and tell Rebecca?

“If what you say is true,” Cecelia said carefully, “then you’ll be free of him soon?”

“Definitely,” I replied. “Or I’ll die in the process.”

She smiled—a conspiratorial one. “Then I’ll tell you
everything
you need to know: passcodes, locations of secured documents. But I want something in return.”

I left the room not long after a brief conversation with Des and Cecelia. Thanks to Cecelia’s musical talent, she had overheard the notes of the passcode for the cuffs.

“Each sound corresponds to a digit and letter,” she’d said with sigh. “The idiot who made that thing followed a musical scale.”

Des told me she’d do what she could to help me with staff members who understood my plight. Cecelia simply laid back down on the couch—her job done for the night.

As I made my way through the darkened hallways, I paused long enough to peer around the corners. If Rebecca found me, she’d most assuredly take me prisoner again. With the tracking bracelet on, I didn’t have much time.

Everything was too silent. No noises to distract me from how far I had to travel to reach the back of the mansion. Usually the guards secured the doors. The main entrance and the exits were locked during the night shift. I’d have to hope the service entrance didn’t have anyone watching them.

I entered the hallway toward the service exit. Someone was standing there. I paused, hoping he didn’t see me, but the older man—one of the butlers—beckoned me toward the door.

“I’m a friend of Des,” he whispered. “She told me to make sure the path was clear for you.”

He pushed me out the door. “Hurry now!”

Once outside the house, I ran toward the back.

The General had ordered that the prisoners be moved to the barracks behind the mansion. It was at least half a mile away past the gardens. As I ran along the paths, I had to veer through the grass a few times. The dew clung to my legs, dampening my clothes.

The barracks loomed ahead, and my heart sung a happy tune. So close. Soon I’d free Zoe and Tyson. They could run away and have a real chance. All I’d have to do was make it to the barracks. Make it to the doors. I had the passcodes. I had the access information.

What I’d run of out though, was time. My legs went rubbery first. Then darkness sucked at the edges of my vision. Fear sloshed through my veins as if I’d jumped into icy water.

I stumbled and eventually fell into the ground. The last thing I felt was the grass, the prickly sensation of the green buds against my face and the sweet scent of dirt. Life stirred all over this place.

Unconsciousness, black and unforgiving, swept along the edges of my vision. The grass disappeared. Then the dew’s wetness on my limbs. I sucked in a short breath. Then two.

By the time I blacked out, I prayed that the birth of spring wouldn’t continue without me.

It wasn’t my time yet to disappear.

The first thing I saw was a glass case in the study. Sparkling in the mid-morning sun, the see-through compartment, with its ancient las-gun collection, captivated the General.

I had something in my hands. The General rubbed my fingertips against a small piece of jewelry again and again. It was the locket I’d found in the display case. I still didn’t know what words had been lost to time on it, but from the way he rubbed the worn side, I suspected he done this before during other times of strife.

On the comm-console in front of me, a series of vids played.

In one, with the time stamp of two hundred years ago, a beautiful woman, dressed in a lacy white gown, spoke to the camera. Her eyes, which were the most mesmerizing color of deep brown, gazed at the camera in a coy manner. With rouged lips, she spoke fervently. “You’ll probably play this over and over again, won’t you, Frederick?” She rolled her eyes. “Always the archivist.”

At first glance, Justina didn’t resemble the woman I’d met at the Testing Facility or in the capital. This woman had youth in her eyes. No bitterness or anger.

“Sometimes I dream of you and me,” the woman said softly. “I dream of what we’ll be like in the future. Will you still love me when I don’t look like this anymore?” She touched the side of her face. The General finally stopped rubbing the locket—only to brush my fingertips over the screen near her nose.

“I won’t have this face after I perform the transfer ceremony.” Her eyes glowed. “The thought of living forever makes every part of me tingle. I-I feel the weight of my mortality being lifted off my shoulders.”

Her tone turned conversational. “My mom always told me I’d die young. Before I finished college, she died of KB12, just like Dad. I still remember their wasted bodies, their sunken eyes. I don’t want to go out like that. I want to go down fighting.

“After tonight, everything will be different. I’ll be in a new body. I’ll follow a new path. And you’ll be there with me.”

She touched something around her neck. From between her breasts, she withdrew the locket I held in my hand. She held it lovingly in her palm and read its inscription: “Always and forever you shall hold my love and adoration. Forever yours, Frederick.”

The view jostled as the camera was placed on the table. Finally, I could make out the location of the video: an apartment. From behind them, I could see windows out into what was mostly likely New Amesbury. A man I didn’t recognize appeared to embrace the woman who’d been the focus of the movie. They kissed deeply. He tasted her as if he wanted to savor her for the last time. I wanted to look away as they shed their clothes and made love. Only a voyeur would continue to stare.

The vid changed again, fast-forwarding to fifty years ago. This time, it was a video message from Justina. Even though she had a new body, I could still see the same Justina. The blonde woman in the video wore clothing I hadn’t seen before, but from the expensive necklace and fine furniture around her, it was easy to see she’d lived comfortably. But even with the wealth around her, the woman’s frustration leaked into her beautiful features.

“When did you stop caring?” she asked him. “I got your little note, your little
confession
. Do you think you’re the only man who I’ll love?” She took a drag from a cigarette and stared at the wall for a bit. “If you were a real man, you’d face me and tell me you didn’t want me anymore—that you’d found someone else.”

She snorted. “I doubt it, though. Your only mistress is the battlefield.”

The General started rubbing the locket again while she continued to speak. “With all the lifetimes I have in front of me, chasing after you isn’t worth my time anymore—”

The door creaked open, interrupting the General’s reverie. Rebecca entered the room, her gaze centered on a point on the far wall.

“Everyone’s gathered outside as you requested, Master.”

With a flick of his fingers on screen, the comm-console was silenced.

For half a second, his sorrow touched me. Burying his emotions was natural to him. Too natural.

Without acknowledging Rebecca, the General stood and left the study. The path we took was all too familiar, but it felt like a death march. Compared to the light from the office, the rest of the house was bathed in darkness. No open windows. No open doors. In the time since I tried to escape, the mood of the house had darkened. Out on the front lawn, the staff waited in two rows. None of them glanced up when I approached. They merely bowed their head as I passed them. At the end of the rows, two of the General’s personal guards held Tyson.

Without words, Captain Fairbanks, the Master of Firearms, presented him with a weapon and six tiny metallic pellets. I’d never seen anything like it before. It resembled a las-gun, but it had a barrel with holes in it instead of the las-gun’s energy diffuser. Was this what he wanted to use on Tyson?

The men remained where they stood, and Dagon began to walk back toward the house. Panic hit me hard with each step he took away from his men. As the General approached the mansion, he added the pellets into the slots.
Click. Click. Click.
Slow and steady.
Click. Click. Click.

While I tried to wrestle away control, the General addressed his staff. “Let this be a lesson to all of you.”

Time. I needed more time. Every time I snatched control of a body part, he pushed me back. Far harder and faster than I could manage. My consciousness folded twice when he tried to drive me back.

“You’re feisty today
,
”
he told me.
“You’ll get your punishment soon as well.”

He twisted to glare at everyone. “I am the Alpha and the Omega. The beginning and the end. I’ve been here longer than any of you can fathom.

“You!” He pointed to Des. “For your disloyalty, you’ll be imprisoned by the enforcers before noon.” He continued to walk toward the house. “I’ll not tolerate insubordination. When you all acknowledge there’s no higher power than me, you’ll be allowed to exist in my presence. All you need to remember is one thing: never cross me. Or I will end you.”

“Not today, you won’t,” a familiar voice said.

Every head turned to see someone standing in front of Tyson. The General’s personal guards—including Captain Fairbanks—lay crumpled at the young man’s feet, unconscious.

My heart sang and then dread hit. What was Quinn doing here?

“My Master of Blades has returned,” Dagon said with a chuckle. The General glanced toward the secondary guard post in the distance, but there was no one in sight.

Quinn took a step forward. “I finally found a way to break in here to save Tate, but I can see you’ve
murdered
her and now you’re ready to kill someone else.”

I’m still alive, Quinn!
I wanted to shout to him.

Quinn sneered. “Now I finally get a chance to settle things between you and me.”

The General snorted. “Your timing is perfect then. I can kill both you and the boy for treason.” The General pointed the weapon at him, gripping the trigger tighter. “I never truly trusted you, but you were far too good a soldier to pass up.”

Quinn didn’t waver. “You should’ve left me behind at that outpost, especially after what you did to my brother.”

My forehead scrunched. “Your brother?” Dagon said. “I’ve killed too many people protecting this country, boy.”

“I’m no boy, Dagon. You tortured and left my brother Peter Belfry for dead.” He pulled out a knife from the sheath at his waist. The blade was stained red from recent use. “You gave him no mercy.” He advanced toward me. “It’s my turn to return the favor.”

Quinn moved faster. Two steps, and then three. The knife glinted in the light, and as he approached me, I wondered the obvious: would he kill me for what the General had done to his brother? Would he strike me with his blade, not knowing I still existed in my body?

The closer he got, the sooner I expected the General to shoot him. But he didn’t. He continued to extend the gun toward Quinn. He stood like a statue, not wavering, not flinching, or showing any fear that he’d lose this fight.

Quinn shifted to strike. He’d kill me soon. He’d wipe everything clean that’d been tainted. With my death would come my freedom.

General Dagon’s finger flexed against the trigger, ready to pull it. I tried to fight against the General’s weakening hold on me. I had to make him stand down. He couldn’t do this. I refused to let him kill again.

Quinn swung the blade toward me, ready to give the fatal blow.

But he didn’t. Mere inches from my chest, the blade rested over my heart, while the gun pointed at Quinn’s. We shared the same breath, ready to kill each other.

Quinn, kill me!
I begged.
End this now...
I wish he could hear. If he ended it all, Tyson and Zoe would be free. Quinn would be alive to continue the fight. My pain would be over. And I’d be at peace.

Quinn’s grip on his blade faltered. His lower lip quivered. His eyes searched mine.

“Tate...” he whispered. “Are you still in there?”

“Do it,” Dagon said. “Don’t you want your revenge? Your brother didn’t hold back before he closed his eyes for the last time. He died like a man.” The General laughed softly. “Do you need help to find closure, boy?” The General leaned toward the blade so the tip came in contact with the uniform.

Quinn’s cheek twitched, but he didn’t move.

His hesitation cost him. The General fired point blank into his chest.

The pop and then the brief flash of light ended with smell of burned flesh. Quinn tottered towards me, and then collapsed on his knees. He looked up at me, a half-smile on his face. “You should thank her for saving you,” he muttered. “Because I would’ve stabbed you in the heart.”

“Well, isn’t this interesting,”
General Dagon whispered to me softly.
“My Master of Blades never hesitated before. I don’t get surprised often.”

Quinn coughed, a bit of blood covering his lips.

The General shot him again in the shoulder.

My universe collapsed. My hope for resolution dissolved. I wanted to die and drag the piece of garbage in my head down with me.

Then the General kicked him over. He used my boot to shove Quinn into the dirt. It was my lips that parted to curse Quinn’s name.

“Leave him outside of the gate to die,” he said.

Quinn lay still in the dirt. The minute the guards approached him, I snapped. I broke. I came undone.

No more!
I screamed at Dagon. I didn’t care if he couldn’t hear me.
No more! I won’t let you do this to me anymore.

This body was mine. I battered every vivid memory I had to remind myself of such. The burning sensation from my first skinned knee. My fluttering heart when Quinn stood close to me. The feeling of lying in the grass with Danny after a rainstorm when we were little. All of those feelings and sensations belonged to me. It was me who knew how those felt first: in my body. Every nerve ending should respond to me, only me. And it would be me who’d feel them for the rest of
my life
.

When my legs buckled, I fell to the ground. It was me who felt the force on my knees. I sucked in a deep breath and felt the air stir through my lungs. Pain, sharp and deep, seared across my skull. It raced from my forehead and pierced the back of my head like a hot blade.