Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (45 page)

“Go ahead.” She swallowed at the gritty tone in his voice, as though he had found the words difficult to say. She gathered that at this point she’d earned an amount of trust with Harley’s other side. She knew it had been conscious of her efforts to help him after whatever accident Harley had suffered. She had looked into his eyes and seen just the glimmering of that same awareness then. Of course, then it must have been stuffed under the layers of grogginess, because now with Harley wide awake and alert in front of her, the intensity of that awareness was paralyzing. How much sway she’d won with his Hybrid side, she wasn’t sure. But it was enough that it was willing to let her come near him with what it saw as a potentially dangerous weapon. Still, she didn’t want to press her luck. She moved slowly, bringing the little trashcan in the bathroom closer to where he sat.

“So, tell me what I should and shouldn’t do around you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable because I’m doing something stupid that I’m unaware of.” She slowly slid her fingers into his hair, letting the strands slip through. The golden tones reflected brilliantly in the light, the color pure and healthy. Despite being burnt on the tips, it was surprisingly soft and silky feeling, and she found herself running her hands through it more than was necessary. He audibly swallowed, and she noticed his hands flexing over and over as they gripped his thighs.

“Depends on the situation.”

“What about now? I’m guessing you are having a wrestling match with your Hybrid right now?”

“Maybe not talk directly about that side of me right now,” he suggested, voice tight. “It likes it too much.”

“Oh.” Well, what could you say to that? “Okay. What should I be doing or not doing besides that?” She brought the scissors up and took the first snip, slowly moving to drop it in the trash. Harley intercepted, gently pulling the tuft of hair from her grasp. He rubbed it between his fingers, a thoughtful frown on his lips.

“Try not to make me look like a girl,” he offered helpfully, tossing the singed hair in the trash. She giggled, feeling some of the strain of the moment melting away, seeping from her muscles. When it did, his body seemed to react in kind, though his hands still gripped his thighs in what looked to be a painful grasp.

“Duly noted. What else.”

“Keep talkin’, I guess. Helps keep my mind off it.”

“Okay.” She paused to think. “The night you showed up hurt. And I had to cut your shirt off. Did that…was that difficult for you then?” He groaned, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the subject matter she’d chosen, or from the memory of that night.

“Immensely.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t slip then, huh.” She laughed humorlessly, remembering the way he’d behaved while she cut the fabric away, how she’d thought his behavior almost animalistic. She just hadn’t known why, or how close to true that was.

“Mostly it was because you kept lookin’ me in the eye while doin’ it.”

“Is that
always
a no no for you then?” She thought back to all the times she’d looked him in the eye since meeting him. Mostly she thought about what a pity it would be to never be able to look into his uniquely captivating eyes again.

“Not always. But when I was bleedin’ out, barbequed, and had the Taint coursin’ in my veins? Yeah, not the greatest time to be lookin’ me in the eyes. Lookin’ in the eyes is seen as somewhat of a delicate matter for us. It basically means you either wanna fight, or you really trust someone; neither one of them somethin’ to take lightly. It’s all about the intent, but when we’re wounded, it’s harder to separate the instinct from the rational thought.”

“So…could I look you in the eyes right now? Or would that be dangerous, since I’ve got scissors.” She couldn’t help but smile inwardly at that. It hardly seemed like a threatening statement to the average person
. Get back, I’ve got scissors!
His hands reached up, grasping her forearms, gently disengaging her from his hair. His eyes sought hers out, pupils still dilated, gaze still as intense as ever. But now she sensed a sort of humor reflected in their depths. His lips curved to match it, and he released her.

“Nope, guess I ain’t gonna eat ya if you look at me. This time.”

“Well that’s reassuring. I’d hate to have you running out of here with only half of your hair cut,” she replied sarcastically, a smile curving her own lips. “Okay, let me think. Oh, yeah, here’s one. What is Taint?”

“Huh?”

“You said you had the Taint flowing through your veins that night. What is it?”

“Oh. Rabid bite.”

“Which completely wigged me out by the way. If Cajun hadn’t been around to calm me down on the phone, I might have ended up calling the hospital.” His hands clenched at his thighs, rubbing up and down on his knees nervously.

“And I’d be dead. Hospitals don’t treat us. They’d be happy to do the opposite actually.”

“The hospital would have killed you?” she asked, incredulous.

“Well, I doubt the building itself would have, but the doctors, yes.”

“Hush, you know what I meant.”

“You’re a woman, ain’t nobody ever knowin’ what women mean.” She sighed exaggeratedly as she used the comb to brush through his hair.

“Stop changing the subject. What kind of mojo do you have going on in there that lets you get bitten, with no side effects?”

“There’s side effects. Infection just ain’t one of ‘em. The Taint makes your muscles sore where ya got bit, and it makes ya heal slower if you got a lot of it in your system. Other than that though, it don’t hurt the body much. It’s the mental side of things that messes ya up the most. Hybrids walk a fine line between the two sides of themselves as it is. Add in a buncha Taint and it gives more fuel to the Hybrid side. Makes it a lot harder to fight for control.” He shrugged. “Makes for a cranky Hybrid.”

“That explains some of it then,” she replied smugly. He grunted in reply, but again didn’t bother arguing. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened that night?” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Sure like bringin’ up the depressin’ bits of conversation, don’t ya, kid.”

“Stop moving, you’ll mess me up.” She playfully swatted him on the head, then froze. Was that a no no? Her eyes flew wide when he immediately retaliated by swatting her on the thigh. She guessed it surprised him too, because she noticed a tinge of red on the cheeks of his bowed head. He cleared his throat, offering an awkward explanation.

“Sorry. Challenge accepted.” She let out a light laugh, running her fingers though his hair as she continued cutting.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Slap fights are serious acts of war.”

“And I’ll win.”

“Arrogant, aren’t we.”

“Just tellin’ it how it is, kid.” She smiled at their banter. Maybe they could pull off an easy going friendship after all, given time. He wasn’t all seriousness all the time, even in a tense situation like this. He just needed to learn how to let go and have a little fun. Maybe it was something they could teach each other. Provided she stopped bringing up tense subject matter. As if reading her mind, he started talking.

“I was down in the Skirts that night…”

“Skirts?” She nearly choked on her own spit. “Down in the skirts? Do I want to hear this part of the story?”

“That’s what we call the city outskirts, ya pervy dweeb.” She reflexively slapped his shoulder, which resulted in another slap to the thigh from him, and a growl of warning about challenges. She laughed, embarrassed.

“Sorry, sorry! I just wanted to make sure you weren’t flouncing around in a skirt or something.” She refrained from saying her first thought had been wondering if he’d been doing something altogether naughty. Based on his reply, he probably already knew what her first thought was.

“Y’all are gonna be sorry if you end up givin’ me a bald spot. Stop it.” His words were serious, but the smile at the corner of his lips told her that he wasn’t mad. So long as she didn’t
really
give him a bald spot. She made a mental note to be more careful about her automatic reactions while holding scissors.

“I was down in the
Outskirts
,” he purposely emphasized the full version of the word. “when I came across your scent. I thought, ‘what’s that fool of a kid doin’ down here in the slums?’” She rolled her eyes but stayed silent, eager for more of the story she’d been waiting to hear for days. “I followed it further down in, and then I noticed another smell on top of yours. Come to find out it was Darfunkle totin’ ‘round your coat.”

“Wait…Darvey? Darvey had my coat...in the slums?”

“That’s what I thought. But his smell was all wrong. The Rat always stinks, but this smell was different. It wasn’t Clean.”

“You mean…Darvey’s infected?” She gasped, freezing in the process of cutting a tuft of hair.

“That’s the messed up part. Dude looked just like Dumbus, but the nose don’t lie. He moved like a Raider, talked like a Raider, smelled like a Raider. Only different somehow,” he shrugged. “Haven’t quite figured that part out yet. Either way, when I smelled the Cream Puff in the hall earlier,
he
didn’t smell infected. It couldn’t be the same guy, which means there’s two lookalike lametards runnin’ ‘round this city now.” That was a truly disconcerting idea.

“What did he want with my coat? I thought Sunshine stole it or something.” Harley shifted around uncomfortably, and when he spoke she had the feeling that he was fudging over the facts a bit.

“He’s probably got a crush on ya, just like his twin. Guess freakishness don’t skip in those genetics.”

“Okay, another case in point. You can follow my smell? Is it really that bad?” She lifted a shoulder, smelling her armpit. She didn’t smell anything. 

“I just told ya I followed your smell into the slums, and found a Darvey lookalike cuddlin’ your coat, and you’re concerned about your deodorant?”

“If I smell bad enough for someone to follow me from blocks away, then yes, I’d like to know.”

“Hybrid senses, Thumbelina. It ain’t noticeable to Cleans; at least not on a conscious level. Cleans sometimes recognize pleasurable pheromones on an unconscious level too, but only up close.”

“Pleasurable?” she asked quietly. He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess y’all don’t stink
too
bad.” She refrained from slapping him again.

“Gee thanks. So what happened then?” She moved around to the front, standing between his legs.

“Uh…” He leaned back slightly, and she was forced to follow. He sighed a heavy sigh, sitting ramrod straight. His back was likely getting sore from sitting on the hard seat for so long, but she was cheating and dragging out this hair cut for a number of reasons that she didn’t care to acknowledge at the moment.

“He lured me into a warehouse, then he barbequed me. End of story. Done choppin’ up my hair yet?”

“No. And how exactly does one barbeque someone like you?”

“Wantin’ to try your hand at it?”

“That depends on how nice you are to me.” She smirked evilly. He glanced up at her, expression clearly disbelieving her abilities to make good on her threat.

“It’s just like I said. He torched the warehouse, and the explosion sent me skippin’ outta there like a pebble on a pond. It took out a few of his cronies at the same time though, so it was worth it.” She stared at him for a long moment.

“Gosh, you’re serious! No wonder you were in such bad shape! How could you even survive that!” He shrugged, lifting his hands in the air.

“Hybrid,” he stated simply.

“Hybrid,” she repeated grimly. “I will add ‘makes you extra bouncy and fireproof’ to my list of things Hybrid instincts can do.”

“Fast healin’ rates,” he clarified.

“Ah.” A thought dawned on her. “So
that’s
how you’re wounds healed so quickly! I could have sworn they looked much worse when I first cleaned them up! I thought I was losing my mind.”

“That’s still debatable.” She narrowed her eyes, but offered a mischievous smile as well.

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of losing your mind. How did he lure you in there in the first place. I have a hard time believing anyone could lure you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothin’. I had to see what he was up to. Investigatin’ suspicious behavior, especially when involvin’ Rabids, is my job. ‘Sides, I had to get that coat back. Piece of art like that, it woulda been a shame to lose it. Pops woulda killed me.”

“Thank you for that. I was heartbroken when I realized it was missing. I’m going to lock it up in my locker from now on.” He grunted his welcome, shifting around on the seat once more, legs accidentally bumping into hers in the process.

“How did you end up at my apartments? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I could help. But I am curious. I didn’t know the outskirts were so close.”

“Curiosity killed the cat. Y’all done yet?”

“Gosh you’re anxious. You’d think I was torturing you. I’m almost done, be patient for a little longer. There’s a lot of burnt chunks in here and I have to make it look smooth, even, and non-girly.”
Plus I spent far too much time molesting your hair in the beginning and now have to make up for lost time
, she amended in her mind. She tried to hurry, noticing he was taking shallow breaths, hands clenching at his legs again. She guessed she had used up her allotted time on the Hybrid clock. Stepping back she examined his hair, nodding in approval. Wordlessly motioning toward the mirror, she stood back and let him examine her work. It was still in the shaggy style he usually wore, but a little shorter now with the blackened ends missing. He moved his head side to side, looking at it from every angle and shaking it out, before pursing his lips and nodding.