he’d been dealt on hearing those words. It had been Marie’s voice, but the words had belonged unmistakably to Carl Monkton. Cameron had heard him use them at the power plant. But why would Marie be repeating them now?
Cameron was still struggling to make sense of it when Marie came striding over. Rora chased after her and made a diving tackle for her legs, but despite the fox-girl’s light-footed steps, Marie must have heard her, becauseshe spun round, kicking out to send Rora’s small frame flying.
Cameron rose to his feet, but by the time he was up, Marie was right there in front of him again. Her fist shot out and punched him in the face, hard. Cameron staggered backwards, tasting blood. He touched a finger to his mouth.
‘What are you doing, Marie? What’s going on?’
Cameron’s brain couldn’t process what was happening. It was Marie he was looking at, but she’d never been violent. And certainly never so strong. He glanced past her to see Rora getting to her feet, clutching her side.
‘Dr Fry wants a word with you,’ said Marie.
‘OK. That’s good. I was just thinking I might turn myself in,’ lied Cameron, stalling for time.
‘Coming back with your tail between your legs?’ sneered Marie. ‘That figures. What a wuss – you make me puke.’ She mimed sticking her fingers in her mouth. ‘I don’t know why Dr Fry wants you back, but he does. So I thinkI’ll just keep batting you in his general direction.’
Marie punched him again, square on the jaw. As Cameron reeled away, she grabbed hold of his shoulders, slammed him back against the tree, and drove her knee into his stomach. He struggled to get his arms up to push her off, but she locked an iron grip around his wrist, then wedged her forearm up under his chin, pinning him in place. She thrust her beautiful face into his and he finally got a good look at her eyes. They were cold, like steel.
Marie’s eyes and not Marie’s eyes.
Cameron’s mind raced. Perhaps as well as enhancing Marie’s body with superhuman strength, Fry had done something to her mind. Hypnosis, maybe. Something that was making her talk and act like Carl. But even so, there had to be something left of Marie inside. Surely he could get through to her?
He could feel her arm against his throat, squeezing his windpipe closed.
‘Marie …’ he choked.
‘ Marie . Oh, Marie ,’ she whined, mocking him, and gave a horrible laugh. ‘I’ve got news for you, buddy. Dr Fry gave your girlfriend a new personality. Mine!’
Cameron’s stomach lurched sickeningly. It couldn’t be true. Surely even Dr Fry wasn’t twisted enough to put one person’s mind in another person’s body? It wasn’t possible. But even as he recoiled from the thought, part of Cameron’s brain was telling him that was precisely what had happened with Carl and Marie.
Marie smirked, tapping the side of her head. ‘Even if she was still in here, she wouldn’t touch you with a bargepole now, Reilly. What happened to Mr Good Looking? Do you know how many people Dr Fry had to use to stitch you together? You’re a walking school reunion.’
Cameron gritted his teeth, trying to force his one free arm up and lever her off.
‘Yeah?’ he gasped defiantly. ‘Well, at least I don’t have to use the girls’ toilets.’
That hit a nerve. With a roar, Marie – Carl?– lashed out. Latching onto Cameron, she hurled him through the air again.
Cameron landed in a heap. He was getting fed up with being thrown around. Grimacing, he flipped himself back onto his feet, braced to fight back. His opponent came at him with renewed enthusiasm, wearing a corrupted version of Marie’s smile, as if relishing the prospect of a scrap.
She lashed out with a lightning-fast karate punch, then another. Like in his fight with the Bloodhounds, Cameron’s body seemed to respond automatically, throwing up his arms to block. But somehow Marie’s fists snuck in past his guard, as if she knew where his parries were
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