Tora didn't want to tell Markl, but Ross's determination to dig out Tora's "true" self was worrying, almost frightening. He was so busy with Damien improving the security and intricate break-predicting system that Tora barely saw him. He even took his meals with Damien's at the computer where blueprints and textbooks surrounded them like a fortress. Without Damien to accompany him, Carlos became a sloth on the sofa, watching television day in and day out. Tora would have liked to ask him to train with her, but, wary of Ross's eyes on her back every time she moved about the house, she stayed away.

A week later, the cabin fever drove her crazy.

"I'm going for a run," she announced. Nobody said anything, too preoccupied in their own little worlds. Sighing, Tora slipped on her running gear and left without another word.

The sun had just set, leaving a bright yellow stain in the most distant part of the sky. Breathing in the chilling air, Tora sighed again, feeling the worries drain away. The house was suffocating. Everyone had more important things to do and Ross breathed down her neck on a constant basis, just itching to thrash her to death.

Tora set off, her ponytail swinging and her trainers slapping the pavement. The few people passing her barely paid her any attention, hurrying home after a long day at work. Her breathing remained slow and even as she emptied her mind of worries and took in the surroundings. Much as she'd love a good workout with Carlos to clear her head, somehow she knew it wouldn't end well.

Birds chirped in the trees she passed. Dogs panted, excited on the walks.  Their claws clipped on concrete before disappearing when they hit soft grass. Normally she'd never have given these sounds a second thought, but her stomach grumbled and her eyes zoned in on the dogs' necks: smooth fur beneath leather collars. She visualised sinking her teeth into the neck vessels, sweet blood gushing into her mouth. Their imaginary death cries were like music to her ears.

Something cold and wet dribbled to her chin. Tora wiped it and stared.

Was she drooling?!

"Ugh, such a skank," she said under her breath, her eyes going round. Her stomach lurched. Cold sweat ran down the side of her face as she slowed, looking with feigned interest at the nearest tree. A dog bounded up to her, its thick fan-like tail wagging furiously. Its tongue lolled out, giving it a comical appearance. Tora hissed, her eyes flashing. Pins and needles shot up and down her arms. The animal looked so tempting.

With a whimper, it hurried away, its floppy ears held flat against its skull. It tucked its tail between its legs and gave her furtive glances as it retreated. Tora forced herself to face ahead again and carried on moving. It took her a while to realise she was clenching her fists so hard her bones were cracking. The heat surging through her body made her feel so alive and powerful. Time almost stopped.

Pumping her arms up and down – she was moving without effort – the air that breezed over her thickened skin had barely any effect. Each individual leaf on the trees that passed fluttered in the wind. Night fell, bu the details were crisp as if she saw them through a microscope.

The street lights fell behind her. Shadows lurked in every corner. She'd left the part of the park frequented by joggers and other members of the public. The falling temperature didn't bother her. In fact, the heat in her core burned with such ferocity that she wondered if she was glowing. Her legs flew, light as feathers, over the pavement. Her heart thumped at the same rate. Adrenaline pounded through her veins. Her mind emptied of all her worries and frustrations. Ross's antagonisms seemed like the thoughts of yesterday.

She'd lost count of how many miles she'd gone, although she still had a vague idea of where home was. Nobody would miss her if she left for a few hours anyway. The quiet and peace was therapeutic. She hadn't passed anyone in the streets for a good while now. If she looked either way, in the dim light she might have been fooled into thinking there were creatures lurking.

It was calming. Her regular panting filled her ears and, although her telekinesis was very much empty despite all her attempts, it was a relief to not have to worry about her pot of energy. She was just Tora, not the demon, not Cyrus's target, not Ross's plaything.

A hand clapped over her shoulder, jerking her out of her reverie.

"Shouldn't be out on your own," grunted a deep voice. Tora slowed, squinting at him through the darkness.

"What?"

"I said—" The hand squeezed harder. She craned her neck. A man swaggered forward. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "—a pretty thing like you shouldn't be out on your own."

"Neither should you, grandpa. Where's your carer?" Tora couldn't stop the irritation from taking over her head. Her words seemed to take a while to sink into that human's mind.

"Cocky, eh? But all little vipers like you are good for is spreading your legs."

If you don't let go, I'll spread your brain on the pavement, she thought, but out loud, she said, "Go home. You're drunk."

The fire still burned in her heart and energy pulsed through her body. Tora turned away, her enthusiasm for therapeutic exercise waning.

"C'mere, little slut. Let Daddy show you what happens when you say bad words."

Tora laughed out loud, incredulous. Did humans really say things like that? Carlos's stupid programmes occasionally had creepy men stalking young vulnerable airheaded girls, but they would almost always be saved by the generic male hero or the girl would scream. Tora always laughed at those, not understanding how they could be so helpless despite the schools' teachings and the apparent advanced technology.

But the more she thought about the situation, the more disgusted she felt about the man before her, not the victims' defencelessness.

She gave him a last chance.

"Go home, old man."

He snorted. She slapped his hand away. He flinched and uttered a soft cry. His confusion turned to anger, his round face flushing.

"You little whore. I'll make you scream."

He slapped her across the cheek. It wasn't a hard hit, but she wasn't expecting it. Tora's head snapped back. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

Her anger flared. Heat rippled across her skin. Tora snarled, turning towards him. Blood. She wanted blood. Drunk as he was, the man seemed to know he was in trouble. She leapt onto him as he turned to run. He collapsed like a sack of sand, landing on the ground with an "oof".

"Get off me, you animal!"

Tora hissed, her mind filled with fury and bloodlust. The man flailed to no effect. Her hand crushed his. A few cracks whipped through the air, followed by his screams.

"Scream for me, you pathetic insect," she said in a hoarse, inhuman voice. The man shuddered and screeched again. His blood vessels stood out like ropes on his neck, ripe and bulging. Tora licked her long canines

"Wh-what are you—" His voice was cut off into a scream again. Tora sank her teeth into his neck. Blood gushed, hot and thick, over her tongue and down her chin. The metallic tang sent shivers down her spine. Her claws dug into his shoulder, piercing the skin and sending black rivulets coursing down his body. She moaned in bliss; animalistic growls escaped her throat. She wanted to tear him apart, rip away the muscles, snap the tendons, eviscerate his organs, and savour the delicious fresh meat.

Grudgingly, she released her jaws. A forked tongue darted out, licking the blood dripping between her sharp teeth.

The man gazed up at her, frozen.

"M-m-monster!" He quivered. Tora stared at him, confused. Monster? She glanced behind her. No rips, no demons. When she turned around again, she realised his terrified eyes were fixed on her.

He meant her?

The bleeding from his neck wasn't stemming. She reached up to it. he flinched. Tora hesitated, frowning. Her gaze focused on the back of her hand. She swore.

Blood glistened like liquid black crystals across the back of her hand – except it wasn't hers. Thick tendons bulged beneath leathery skin. Long slender fingers ended in curved claws. They looked as if they could tear the man into ribbons in a single swipe.

Something dribbled down her chin. She wiped it and swore again.

Blood.

"Oh, hell," she whispered. The reality hit her like a ten-ton lorry. She stood up, stunned. The man finally regained his senses. With a scream at the top of his lungs, he scuttled backwards, leapt to his feet, and then ran, still screaming.

Tora didn't look at him again. She eyed her hands. Nausea rose up her gullet, making her choke. Leathery black skin all over, covered in blood. She touched her cheeks. Leathery, too.

"What's happening to me?"

 It was too much. Her trainers hit the pavement. Wind coursed through her hair but she hardly felt anything. Her heart raced away, threatening to tear out of her ribcage. She hadn't felt fear like this in a long time, not since father... father...

Father what?

The question didn't last. Her breath tore at her throat. Her lungs were on fire. The darkness flew by at a blur. Nobody passed her. She must have been out for a good few hours. The ground glistened with the beginning of a drizzle but every gleam looked like a drop of blood. Blood everywhere.

Markl. Markl would know what to do. Her flurry of thoughts slowed down. Markl would sort all this out. She could see his smiling brown eyes and that subtle smile he wore. He would say something calming and sensible, and hear her out.

She should have done this so much sooner, long before all this went out of control and she'd harmed a human. If Ross knew, she would never let Tora be a Seeker again. It would be a surprise if she didn't kill Tora then and there. Tora wouldn't blame her. She was dangerous. These instances were beyond her will and it would only be a matter of time before Tora started a mass slaughter.

She could almost hear Markl's soothing voice.

The moment she opened the door, she knew something was wrong. The red light was flashing. Patter of feet filled her ears from upstairs. Carlos thundered down the steps, one arm shoved into the sleeve of an inside-out hoodie. A look of relief filled his face at the sight of her.

"You're here! Markl!" he yelled behind him. "Tora's back!"

"What's going on?" She spotted Damien glued to the computer.

"Another break," he said, struggling to shove his arm into the other sleeve. "We were just about to leave without you – we couldn't find you." His eyes focused on her outfit. "Is that blood?"

"Tora!"

Markl's voice was anything but comforting. If it wasn't for the deep timbre, Tora almost thought it was Ross by the fury in his voice.

"Where were you?" he said, appearing at the bottom of the stairs fully dressed to kill demons. "You didn't take your phone. You didn't tell anyone – you can't just disappear like that!"

"I did say I was—"

"No time for that now. There's another rip. Green Water Shopping Centre. Get dressed and ready."

"Markl—"

He disappeared. Tora heard him calling to Ross overhead. Not wanting to be caught by the lieutenant drenched in human blood, Tora dashed to the laundry room and snatched a top from yesterday. Shoving the evidence behind the basket, she emerged to find Damien watching her from the computer, his green eyes so wide they almost popped out.

"What happened, Tora?"

She knew he wasn't referring to how much she resembled some serial killer just then. Damien could tell at a glance if something was wrong.

"Things are... bad, Damien," she said in a low voice, meeting his gaze.

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