Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (3 page)

Cat appeared in the doorway, obviously drawn by the commotion. Malinda Hilden, ever the properly snooty heiress merely gestured the nurse away with an annoyed flick of the wrist. Cat was just another servant in her eyes. Cat raised a brow at the gesture, eying Amiel as though asking for guidance. Amiel merely lay back down at her brother’s side, leaving Cat to do as she pleased. Malinda released a quiet sigh of frustration.

“Leave us. My daughter is obviously quite distraught and not herself. I must calm her before she aggravates her heart condition,” Malinda addressed the nurse, though it was clearly not a request.

“My heart is fine, mother. It’s Jaron’s that’s broken. Do you even care?” Amiel wondered if she were broken inside too, just in a different way. She felt distant, empty, and suddenly so very angry. She felt like an entirely different person, as though the past Amiel had slipped away with her brother’s pulse. The door shut with an ominously loud click as Cat left the room. Now that they were alone the real Malinda Hilden would come out to play.

“Enough!” Malinda threatened angrily, the facade she had worn earlier melting away like the shadow it was. In public Malinda was always poised with power and sophistication, but Amiel knew the truth; her mother was a monster.

A hand gripped Amiel’s arm with crushing strength as Malinda’s cherry lacquered lips neared her ear. “If you must outwardly mourn, so be it, but I will not allow you to embarrass me any further. Nor will I allow you to keep touching him. Move away now, or you will end up just like him,” her mother hissed through clenched teeth.

Amiel knew her mother was right, though she hated her for her crass, blunt reprimand. The poison that took her brother’s life was somewhat of an enigma in the medical community she had been told. But they knew some things, and one of those things was that when the Poisoned person died, the substance soon began seeping from their pores. This is why the Poisoned and anything touching them after death had to be burned in order to destroy the threat. It was why the doctors had cautioned her to not touch his skin, why Cat had pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, knowing Amiel would want to hold him for a few moments without danger.

Amiel yanked free of her mother’s grip and headed for the door. She was pulling it open when she gasped in pain, stumbling backward as her hair was grabbed from behind.

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m speaking to you,” Malinda hissed venomously. Still wrenching a handful of Amiel’s hair, her mother’s gaze found its way to the dog tags around her daughter’s neck for the first time. Warning bells rang in Amiel’s mind as her mother’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing wearing those?” Malinda growled, making a swipe for Jaron’s tags.

Amiel’s hand shot upward lightning quick, intercepting the offending hand. Her fist clenched her mother’s wrist, squeezing harder and harder as her anger rose. Malinda gasped, releasing the grip on Amiel’s hair to grab at her hand instead. Her eyes widening in shock and perhaps even a little fear, Malinda’s gaze flickered toward the partially opened door, then back. When she spoke again her voice was sickly sweet, though the strain beneath it was clearly audible.

“Amiel,
dearest
,” the fake endearment was forced through clenched teeth, “what are you doing? Your heart…”

“
Never
touch his tags again,” Amiel warned. She was distantly aware of the menacing undertone in her voice and surprised that she enjoyed it.

“Take them off,” Malinda reasserted, yanking on her wrist a little more insistently this time.

“
Never
,” Amiel growled, her mouth actually pulling into a snarl. “I made a promise, and neither you nor Armageddon itself will force me to take them off.” Her mother’s arctic glare bored into her. It had no effect on Amiel, raising another warning flag in the distant recesses of her mind that perhaps she should be slightly concerned over her current behavior.

Was this normal behavior after the loss of a loved one? Conflict rose within her suddenly, dizzying her with its intensity. What was wrong with her? Had she finally snapped under the stress imposed on her the last seven years? She’d never felt such an uprising of emotion before this day, not even after the death of their father. Sorrow and numbness over Jaron’s death and the surrounding witnesses had made her feel brave perhaps, but eventually she would have to face her mother alone. Her heart clenched in pain remembering Jaron’s words. She truly was on her own now. No more big brother coming to her rescue, no more big brother to back her up against the tyranny of their mother. Forcing her fingers to pry themselves loose of Malinda’s wrist, she was surprised to see dark red finger prints left in their place. Malinda rubbed at her tender skin, and Amiel’s heart skipped with uncertainty, stumbling back a step. What was she doing?

Spinning on her heel, Amiel raced away from the death filled room and those damning glacial eyes. Her mother didn’t follow; Amiel knew she wouldn’t. Malinda was above making a scene, with witnesses watching wide eyed at her daughter’s hasty retreat. She wasn’t however above sending her henchmen to do the job for her. Knowing this, Amiel avoided the elevator, racing down the stairs in an attempt to beat the goons to the hospital’s exits.

Amiel reached the east service exit unhindered but she didn’t stop running there. Her only goal was to get as far away from the hospital and her mother as possible. She hurtled over trash cans in narrow alleys, ducked the low branches of saplings on Main Street, and sprinted down the busy streets of Rockville. She let her tears flow freely as she breathed the brisk late-summer air, ran until her lungs burned so badly she had to hunch over on a bench and gasp in long agonizing pulls of air. Perhaps she should have been concerned about the fact that her feet had carried her to the outer park regions, an area that was deemed dangerous even in the daylight hours. It was far too close to the Inner Walls; the last defensible position if the outer walls were breached. As it happened, this was also the place where the lowlifes and the drifters stayed. As perfect as her mother’s city appeared to be, Amiel knew about the shady parts of the city that Malinda tried to ignore. As long as the visible areas weren’t eye sores, Malinda couldn’t care less about the dealings beyond the edge of the park..

With the conflicted emotions tearing through her body, Amiel didn’t care that she was very likely in danger. In fact, she found she almost welcomed death. She couldn’t imagine facing her mother every day without her brother there to be her pillar of strength. Heck, she didn’t know what she was going to do in the next few
hours
when she had to go home. Though Jaron had been far away these last seven years, she’d always known he was out there, that he loved her and supported her. Now that love and support was gone, there was no one out there to watch her back, nor understand the plight of living with her mother.

Lying on a stone bench, she sobbed until her eyes felt raw and gritty. Eventually the hiccupping sobs faltered into silent, unfocused staring contests with the un-manicured grass as it waved in the wind. At some point she stumbled to her feet and began wandering the expansive parks and their trails until the sky darkened with dusk. Only when the retiring sun left the park in such a state of darkness that she could no longer see the trails did she admit defeat, and wander through the streets toward the cold building called home. No one had bothered her, in the parks nor on the streets as she walked home. If there was a single soul nearby, she hadn’t even notice. The guards at the prestigious gated community in which they lived silently nodded to her as she slumped by them. She heaved a resigned sigh as her key slid into the knob, the cold metal beneath her palm a physical reflection of her daily life.

“Where have you been?” Amiel squeezed her eyes shut as Malinda’s distant malevolent voice floated up to her from the dining room the moment the door opened. Amiel turned, looking out into the shadowed streets. She could run for it, run back out into the night and never come back. Her foot crossed the threshold, gravitating toward the darkness outside that whispered of freedom. At that moment a curfew truck began its slow progress down their road, its spotlight sweeping the streets and yards. The light landed on Amiel causing her to freeze reflexively. She heard the window of the truck squeak as it came down. Squinting into the blinding light Amiel couldn’t see the driver.

“Have a good night, Miss Amiel,” the man in the truck stated formally. His words were kind but his tone was clear;
Get back inside, and don’t come out till dawn.
With a grim smile she waved to the patrol man and closed the door.

“Not tonight,” she whispered to herself, the lock snicking into place with a sound of finality. Forehead pressing to the wooden door, she sighed in self-defeat. What was worse was the feeling of relief she had felt at the man’s convenient arrival. “Coward,” she muttered under her breath. Would Jaron have made a run for it? Probably. In fact, he likely wouldn’t have come back to the house in the first place. But Amiel wasn’t brave like Jaron, she never had been.

“I asked you a question, and I expect an answer!” Amiel cringed as Malinda’s shout from the parlor scraped across her senses. Her mother was clearly eager to brow beat her now that they were away from the public eye. Defiance kindled in her stomach, burning with a slow ache as she steeled herself and turned away from the door. Eying the stairs she rushed toward them, hoping she could get to her room before her mother intercepted.

“Amiel Charlotte Hilden, stop this instant!” her mother demanded. Amiel paused with one foot on the stairs of escape. Her sanctuary was only twelve steps away. She lifted her left foot to take the next step. “Stop! Do I need to have Geno hold you down again?” Amiel winced at the threat. Even after five years the memory still haunted her.

Claustrophobic terror rose, threatening to suffocate her as she thought back on the experience. She had never felt so violated in her life as she had in those agonizingly eternal thirty minutes. The memory completely stilled her efforts to flee this argument, the rebellious urge to disobey instantly quashed. As though summoned by her internal dread, Geno appeared in the archway of the foyer with that familiar hungry look in his eyes and his mouth stretched in a sickening grin. He was clearly eager for a repeat of the event that had so scared Amiel. She wasn’t about to give him the opportunity. Grudgingly Amiel descended to the last step and waited for the wrath of Malinda Hilden to spew forth like a great volcano.

“Good girl.” Malinda’s voice dripped with condescension. “Now, where were you?”

“Out.”

“I’m aware of that, twit. What were you doing?” Malinda pressed.

“I was just walking around, thinking.” 

“Thinking? I’d hardly describe what you were doing as
thinking
. Margery Tildy called me not half an hour ago to inform me that her son saw you walking through the
parkways
of all places. Is this true?” Amiel knew there was no point in denying it. Even if it hadn’t been true, Malinda would never listen to the word of her own child over that of another socialite family.

“Perhaps Margery Tildy should be more concerned about what her son was doing at the parks to have seen me there in the first place.” Malinda waved her hand through the air as though batting away a pesky mosquito.

“That is none of your concern.”

“What I do with my time is hardly
their
concern, either,” Amiel replied, the defiance in her belly boiling with an acidic sensation. Malinda’s eyes brimmed with barely contained rage.

“Are you insane?” Malinda took a dramatic glance at her diamond watch. “Curfew hits in five minutes. You do realize that, don’t you?” Amiel shrugged again. “You are aware of
why
we have a curfew, aren’t you? Somewhere in that spoiled little head of yours is a knowledge of what lies beyond the safe haven I have created for you here, isn’t there?”

“It’s probably no more dangerous out there than what I face in my own home.” Amiel cast a disgusted look over Malinda’s shoulder at the grinning henchmen. Malinda’s eyes gleamed with malicious intent and she swung her hand out before Amiel saw it coming. Her hand met Amiel’s cheek with a loud smack and a white hot flash of pain.

“Enough!” Amiel’s cheek stung under the burning welt rising from Malinda’s sharp slap. “I will listen to no more of this disrespect in my own home! Geno, come keep my daughter company while I try to get some semblance of truth from her snarky mouth.” Amiel pushed the tears back, tensing as Geno slunk to stand behind her, sleazy grin firmly in place. He stood just close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. She swallowed against the nauseating rise of emotions within, dizzied from their overwhelming sensations. It felt as though something inside her were fighting to claw its way out.

“Now, let’s discuss the hospital, shall we?” Amiel’s stomach twisted at the sickly sweet tone that accompanied her mother’s ugly temper. “Was I dreaming or did you actually have the audacity to put your hands on me?” Amiel bit her lip, unsure how to reply.

“I…was upset,” she offered haltingly, torn by the disconcerting need to walk carefully and angrily lash out at once.

“Upset. Stupid more like. You are lucky there was an audience, or the outcome would have been much different.” Her mother paused to let the words sink in. “You will
never
defy me in public again, are we clear?” Amiel’s eyes dropped to the floor, seemingly abashed. Truthfully, she simply didn’t want Malinda to see the defiance burning in their depths.