18. Z I L L I O N : Chimeros

CHAPTER I

2006

"Have you heard the rumours, Cicero?"

Cierra sat in a restaurant in the Animal District with a fox named Lauretta—a former member of her personal gang, "Cell Block Tango". The retired Queen of Crime took a sip from her glass of wine and set it down. "That depends on what rumours you're referring to," she responded in a grouchy tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lauretta said innocently. "Is it that time of the month?"

"Spare me the insults, Six," Cierra growled. "Tell me about these rumours."

Lauretta smirked and leaned back in her chair. "You know the kid you told me about a few years back? The one you dumped in the forest?"

"Mm-hm..." Cierra took another sip of her wine.

"Well, I heard through the grapevine that his powers showed up."

Cierra spewed her wine all over Lauretta's face.

Lauretta frowned as wine dripped from her fur. "Classy," she remarked sarcastically.

Cierra coughed and wiped her mouth. "His powers? What do you mean, his powers?" she rasped, digging her claws into the table. "He shouldn't have any powers! He's supposed to be DEAD!" She banged the table with a fist on the final word.

"Shut up!" Lauretta hissed as the other patrons began turning in their direction. "You want the Authority on our tails again?"

Cierra gritted her teeth and forced herself to relax, sinking back into her chair.

"Look—you said you'd only train him if he survived, right?" Lauretta pointed out. "Well, he survived. That means you've got a new way to spend your illustrious retirement."

"Why do you care if he gets trained?" Cierra forced out angrily.

"Because if he doesn't learn how to control himself, the whole city could be at risk. And that means I could be at risk." Lauretta took a drag on her cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke, adding, "It's called the art of self-preservation, honey."

Cierra worked her jaw. "Blast it," she grumbled, slumping in defeat. "What a stubborn little b-----d. He must take after his father..."

Lauretta raised an eyebrow. "So you're gonna train him, right? 'Cuz I'm not trying to get iced by a toddler."

Cierra scowled at her. "Yes, I'll train him," she said finally—grudgingly. "Send him to me; we'll start tonight."

-

That night, at around nine-thirty, the doorbell of Cierra's City District mansion was rung.

Cierra groaned and rose from her couch where she'd been watching soaps and trudged over to the front door, peering through the peephole. "Who goes there?" she snapped.

Outside, a female jackal stood with her small son and—disappointingly enough—young Zillion Martinez. "It's Mindy Wells," the jackal replied, glancing warily at the enforcer standing behind her. "Your, erm... friend... told us to come here tonight."

"I didn't ask for all of you!" Cierra snarled. "Just the snake-tailed brat!"

"Are you my mom?" Zill asked loudly—much too loudly for Cierra's liking.

"No, I'm not your 'mom'!" Cierra retorted. "I—you—ugh." She let out a ragged sigh and reluctantly opened the door, nodding to her butler. "Thank you, Yates," she muttered. "I'll take it from here."