Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (48 page)

“You challenged me back there. Do you remember
that
?” She looked into the distance for a long moment, before understanding dawned in her eyes. She swallowed, chin lifting.

“Yes.”

“You knew what would happen if you did that, didn’t you? You knew that I would not be able to back down from a challenge. That I would have to follow you.”

“I had hoped,” she replied dully.

“Why?”

“You’re Harley’s family. He’s done everything he could to protect you his whole life. How could I let something happen to you now, if I had the power to prevent it?” The answer surprised him. There was nothing to suggest that she was lying to him, only earnestness and pain. Pain that suggested she’d lost someone that close to her in the past. His eyes slid down to the chain hidden under her shirt, thinking about what Tandy said about her dead brother and his dog tags.

“How do you do it?”

“I’m not certain.” She was uncertain, but she had a very strong idea, he could tell. She simply didn’t want to share it.

“Figure it out.”

“Only when Harley is here to hear it,” she replied stubbornly, chin lifting, eyes going hard. Cajun’s Hybrid gave a slight nudge to his consciousness. The reasoning behind the action surprised him. It was a nudge of respect. He sighed, moving toward her. She tensed, but made no effort to retreat. He reached for her bike, pushing it toward the back of his SUV.

“Open the doors,” he ordered, nodding toward the back doors. She moved to obey after only a moment’s hesitation. “Pull that tab, push the seats down.” Again she did as he instructed, folding the seats down, leaving a flat surface. He lifted her bike, shoving it inside. It barely fit, but it would do for the short trip. He turned to her, eyes hard, unyielding.

“We’re going to your apartments. You’ll clean up then meet me back down at the gates. We are going to see my brother, and you are telling us everything.”

She stared out at the night, giving a sharp nod. Her eyes shifted to meet his, and he had the strangest urge to take a step back. Maybe it was because of the way they had looked before the fight began, with those unearthly strange eyes. They were perfectly normal now, revealing no reason for him to react in such a way. But something in her eyes held power, and a certain command of strength. He shook his head and the feeling dissolved as instantly as it had appeared.

“You’re right. It’s time. Let’s get this over with.” She grabbed up her helmet and gun, shaking her head in disgust at the mess on the helmet. Tossing them it in the back with her bike, she holstered the gun and headed for the passenger door. She climbed in and waited for him to join her without a word. Taking one more look at the carnage on the street, he jumped in the driver’s seat. They drove in complete, frigid silence. About a block from the apartments she broke that silence to ask him to pull over. He hesitated but did as she asked. Jumping out she moved around to the back, opening the doors. He followed, making sure she wasn’t about to jump ship.

“Can you pull my bike out, please?” He eyed her darkly and she sighed. “I have to clean up. They’ll never let me in the gates looking like this.” Humoring her he pulled the bike out, placing it on the ground. She shook her head, mumbling something about a family of Hulks. He smirked slightly as she opened the side bags on the bike, pulling out two large towels and a bottle of water. Laying the towels on the ground she dumped the bottle of water over both of them. She tossed one towel over the bike and used the other to scrub herself clean in the dark window of his car. Satisfied with that, she used the other towel to clean off her bike, face lamenting its wounds as she scrubbed. She finished off with her helmet, popping it back down on her head, sparkly clean. Tossing the towels in a nearby trashcan she turned back to him, eyes solemn. He didn’t even have to ask, but he did.

“Do this often?”

“I told you it wasn’t the first time,” she replied darkly, moving to climb on the bike. “Follow me over. I’ll leave the bike inside when I come down, since I’m guessing you wouldn’t trust me to ride wherever we are going.” He folded his arms over his chest, saying nothing. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ll be down in a few.” She started the bike, riding it the rest of the way. Cajun followed, waiting outside the gates. While he waited he made a few important phone calls, setting into motion the rest of his plans. True to her word she returned not ten minutes later, hair still dripping wet, no bike in sight. They drove wordlessly, parking outside Foundation’s security gates. It would be another three hours before Harley was released from his necessary medical evaluation. Cajun probably should have let her stay home during this time, let her sleep. The exhaustion was evident in her drooping lids. He could have waited outside the gates, the only way in or out of the apartment complex. Instead, he stubbornly kept her in his sights, trapped in the chilled car with him.

“Got any cuts or scrapes?” he muttered. She didn’t bother to ask why.

“No.” She stared sullenly out the window as the silence settled back in. Neither one of them talked for a long time. Enough time that he started to feel guilty. He’d always loved women, always respected them. He was Harley’s opposite in that regard. It was difficult and unusual for him to come down so hard on anyone of the gentler sex. When he glanced her way and saw tears glistening in her eyes from the reflection in the window, he caved.

“Aw, look, I’m sorry, bird,” he muttered gently. “I shouldn’t have come down on you so hard.” She shook her head, covertly wiping away her tears before looking at him.

“You don’t need to apologize, Cajun. You are just looking out for your brother. You can’t be faulted for that.” She looked back out the windshield. “I deserved it. I
needed
it.” He was again surprised by her. Here she was beating herself up, when most women would be up in arms over his treatment of them. He was suddenly reminded of Charleen. This girl wasn’t so much different from his fiancé. Sure they came from vastly different places in life, but he could feel that she had been through her share of hard times. And while she put on a tough front, underneath she was just a lost little girl in need of compassion. He’d recognized it so easily in his Charleen, almost at first sight. He was slightly surprised that he hadn’t seen it in the girl until now. And that of course made him feel even more guilty.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sheila. We’ve all got dog days and cat days.” She looked at him with a small smile.

“Which one’s worse?” He thought about that a moment.

“Haven’t the slightest idea. Dumbest saying I’ve ever heard, actually.” He grinned mischievously at her. “It’s one of Harley’s.” Her grin widened, the smile reaching her eyes, giving them a bit of sparkle.

“That’s a girl. Now hop in back and get some sleep. Dante’s bound to be in a mood if he sees you before he gets in the car. He’ll be in a mood anyways, but at least I’ll have him trapped first.” She did as he asked, hopping into the back without a complaint.

“Why do you call him Dante?”

“Huh? Did I?” He cringed, looking out the window. Sometimes he hated his brain.

“Yes. It’s the second time I’ve heard you call him that.”

“Huh.” She grinned at his stiff reply.

“I can finally see some resemblance between you now, even if only in your word usage.”

“It’s a sensitive subject for him. I try not to call him that. But with my brain…” He shrugged in frustration. “It’s screwed up in there and sometimes I revert to calling him that. I don’t even realize it until he gets up in a smoke about it. Let’s forget I said it, yeah?”

“Of course.” She paused, toying with her wet hair. “Harley told me about your brain cancer.” She spoke quietly, carefully, as though unsure if she was stepping on delicate ground. She might be. He said nothing, waiting. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re okay now. I think you are right; Harley would be lost without you.”

“Of course he would be. Most people are lost without me- they just don’t realize it cause they’ve never met me. Poor ding bats.” He tacked on his trademark crooked grin, glancing at her in the mirror. She offered a return smile, looking down into her lap. “But thanks for that,” he added.

“Sure.”

“And Amiel?” She looked up, their gazes meeting in the mirror. “I want to like you, bird. I really do. I think you could be good for Harley, the little twit. But I promise, if you break my brother I’ll find a shark and feed you to it. Yeah?” Her eyes widened, before a smile stretched her lips.

“I’d do it for you,” she offered, and he felt that she actually meant it.

“Good. Because I’m not entirely sure where I’d find a shark around here.” She chuckled quietly. Cajun felt they had found some common ground. And now that they had, he really hoped that she wouldn’t disappoint. He wanted so badly for his little brother to finally know happiness. Of course, with what Cajun had planned next, he’d have to hope Harley didn’t kill him before he found out if happiness was in his little brother’s cards.

Harley

Cajun was up to something. For one, he’d texted him to meet at the gates, and said to ‘leave the pig home’. That was his lame way of saying he had to ride in Caj’s car. Cajun knew how much he hated leaving his bike behind. For another, Harley could practically smell the reek of Cajun’s nerves when he stepped out of the car with his cheesy grin on full blast. He was up to something, and it was something he knew Harley wouldn’t like.

“Harley!” Cajun slapped him heartily on the shoulder. Harley stared down at his shoulder, then up at his brother.

“What did you do?” he grumbled in accusation. Cajun’s eyes widened innocently.

“What? Why would you even think I did something?” His protest stuttered out as Harley leaned closer, sniffing. A suspicious frown twisted his lips.

“Y’all smell like Amiel. A
lot
. Why?” Cajun gave him a wincing smile, leading him toward the back door of the SUV.

“Char’s going to love that one,” he mumbled. “Let’s just go. I’ll explain on the way.”

“What’s the problem? How did it go last night? Did you get Amiel home safe? She didn’t answer my text.” Cajun yanked the back door open, and Amiel’s scent immediately slammed Harley in the face.

“That’s
probably
because she’s been passed out the whole time,” Cajun replied apologetically. Harley’s eyes narrowed when he saw her slumped over in the back seat, unconscious.

“What the hell happened, Cajun? You were supposed to be keeping her safe, not bringing her to the lion’s den!” His teeth barred and he glanced around nervously. The idea of her being so near Foundation made him edgier than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He kept his gaze carefully trained on Amiel, torn between the urge to go to her, and the need to pound his brother in the nose.

He settled on the first, climbing inside and cautiously sniffing her hair. She smelled of fresh shampoo and soap, her scent warm and tempting as always. He noticed the dangerous edge of it was slightly fading, as was the scent of his blood. Both of these facts brought him relief, though the last one, stupidly enough, left him a little sad. He reached out gently running a hand down her jaw, thumb lightly brushing along the outer edge of her bottom lip, feeling for the draft of her breath. Reassured that she was breathing, he settled into his seat more fully, glad his back had shielded what he’d just done from Cajun. All he needed right now was some smart alec remark from his brother to push him over the edge of his anger. Seeing her whole and safe had alleviated some of the fury, but it wouldn’t take much to stir it back up.

“Explain,” he barked sharply, eyes still glued to his charge.

“She’s fine! She’s just sleeping,” Cajun promised, shutting the door at his back. Harley tensed, not only because he was now prisoner to whatever Cajun had planned, but also because he’d been shut in with Amiel’s scent. Again. A scent that had obviously had time to marinade inside the car, and on his brother, for hours.

“How long she been sittin’ in here with ya?” he asked, tightly restraining his Hybrid’s ire over the close proximity she had shared with Cajun for so long
. She’s your friend, she’s your charge, and it ain’t y’all’s damned business who she is or isn’t around so long as she’s safe
, he reminded himself sternly. His Hybrid grumbled but backed down. Harley rolled his neck to loosen the forming knot there. Besides, she’d been with his brother, his
engaged
brother. He could trust Cajun to not doing anything stupid.

“Um…a few hours?” Cajun supplied apologetically.

“Why?” Harley clenched his teeth. “What happened?”

“See, that’s a funny story.”

“Shut up and get to the point, Caj.”

“She went a little wobbly on the way home.”

“Wobbly?”

“Um, what did pops call it…psycho? No that wasn’t it…”

“Exorcist,” Harley muttered, looking back down at Amiel. It made sense now. She’d been attacked while riding home, and Caj was just protecting her till she recovered. His teeth clenched in frustration. He’d allowed his instincts to pull him over that thin line of aggression again. He should be thanking Cajun, not attacking him.

“Yeah, that’s it!” His brother’s excited shout caused Amiel to stir. She shifted around until she was cuddled up against Harley’s side, and he tensed, unsure of what to do. His Hybrid didn’t have the same problem. It squirmed around in his mind in that same unsettling way it had been doing since waking in her apartment. He looked down, wondering if he should wake her, or at least try to move her away. A small smile tilted her lips as her nose pressed against his leather jacket, mumbling contentedly in her slumber. He nearly groaned. How could he turn
that
away? He forced his shoulders to relax, making them a softer pillow.

“Sorry for yellin’ at ya, Caj. I’m wound a little tight right now. Thanks for keepin’ her safe for me.” He kept his tone quiet, not wanting to disturb her again.

“Yeah, no problem. It’s just…” Cajun winced in the mirror. “Don’t thank me quite yet.” And there it was. Harley took it back. His instincts had been right, his brother
was
up to something stupid.

“Cajun,” Harley growled. Cajun’s ideas were rarely
good
ideas.

“Oops!” Cajun smiled innocently as they swerved and hit a large bump, jolting Amiel awake. She stretched, body pressing against him in a way that made the heat rise under his collar. Harley sat as rigidly still as possible, waiting to see if she would fully wake this time. She suddenly froze, and he knew his answer. Pulling away, she pushed the messy hair out of her eyes, gaze slightly unfocused as she gained her bearings. When that gaze finally fell on him, he met and held it. Her cheeks flushed slightly.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile. His instincts stuttered, noting that something was wrong with that smile. It was dimmed compared to its usual brilliance. His brow drew down in thought, wondering what was going on here. He drew a deeper breath, scenting the air for hints. It only confused him more. Her emotions smelled of a heavy nervous guilt.

“Ya alright, Thumbelina?” Her eyes glossed slightly, lips wobbling. Something was definitely off. She turned away from his penetrating gaze, facing Cajun.

“Where are we?”

“We’re here, that’s where,” Cajun replied oh so helpfully.

“Care to tell us where ‘here’ is, cupcake?” Harley growled, agitated and concerned. He hated being in the dark. The car pulled to a stop, and Harley’s skin crawled. They were outside of an abandoned warehouse. Charleen was waiting at the door, and Pell was with her. 

“What’s
he
doin’ here?” His mood seemed to rub off on Amiel, whose emotions tipped the balance to full-on nervous mode. He unconsciously extended a hand, squeezing her knee comfortingly as he reached for the door handle. When they climbed out he reached over, pressing her behind him, out of Pell’s line of sight. Obviously Pell already knew she was here, had seen her climb out of the SUV even. But Harley’s instincts yearned to protect her, and putting her behind him was a natural reaction to that need. Her small hand rested lightly against his back, pressing closer in an instinctive need to shelter herself in the protection he offered.

“Let’s talk inside,” Cajun offered.

“Talk
now
.” Harley didn’t move except to slip into a slightly more protective stance. He distractedly noted Charleen doing the same at Cajun’s side, but he ignored it. Harley could see Cajun battling his own Hybrid’s instincts in the escalating tenseness of the situation. But Harley was currently fighting the same battle, so he didn’t really care.

“Harley, we need answers. She needs them just as much as we do.” His words resonated with Harley. His eyes shifted to Pell, who offered a nerdy grin, pressing the glasses further up his nose. The dude was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet, scent heavy with excitement. Pell was a good enough guy Harley supposed, as far as dweebs go. But he wasn’t one of them. He eagerly worked for Foundation as one of their scientists, and that made him untrustworthy in Harley’s eyes. Amiel shifted behind him, drawing his attention back to her.

“He can give us answers?” Her voice was timid as she moved to stand at his side. Cajun offered a kind smile and a nod. She opened her mouth to reply but Harley gently gripped her arm, stopping her.

“Can he be trusted?” He jerked his head in Pell’s direction. He didn’t want Foundation having anything to do with his charge, and it suddenly felt like they were sniffing at her heels.

“We can trust him. Can’t we, Pell?” Cajun smirked at the scrawny guy, who offered another toothy grin, head bobbing excitedly.

“Oh absolutely!” His emotions shouted excitement and nothing else. The little goofball didn’t even have the sense to be nervous about the treacherous ground he was walking. You didn’t keep secrets from Foundation. Hybrids were living on borrowed time, and used to getting the living day lights beat out of them on most of those days. As such, the idea of what Foundation would do to them didn’t faze them, at least not as badly as it
should
have fazed a pansy scientist.

So long as Foundation didn’t take an interest in Amiel, everything would be fine.
But
, if they decided she was an interesting investment for them, they’d make certain that they dug up every scrap of information on her. And Harley had no doubt that if they tortured the guy, he’d spill. Cajun must have sensed his skepticism, because he winked, silently reassuring him that he had something up his sleeve. Harley looked to Amiel, weighing her emotions. He could feel her fear, but also a strong current of hope. She really did need answers as badly as they did. She turned then, looking him in the eye, and the guilt returned to her emotions with such full strength it was nearly staggering.

“Before I get answers, I need to give some. You told me your secrets, but I haven’t told you mine.” She reached into her shirt, pulling out the dog tags. Pell gasped an
oohh
and moved to get a closer look. Harley cut his approach off with a hand clasping over his face, holding him at a distance.

“I black out, and I kill Rabids. I don’t know how I do it, but I think it has something to do with these. I don’t remember a thing that happens during the blackouts. I just sort of wake up and find them all over the ground, dead.”

“Imferesfing!” Pell mumbled excitedly against Harley’s palm. Amiel shrugged, staring at Harley’s feet, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t expect you to believe me, but it is true. I promise. I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was just so afraid of what it all meant, and how you would react. You’ve always been so kind to me, and looked out for me. I felt like I was betraying you by not telling you…but…” Two tears ran down her cheeks. “I didn’t want to lose your friendship,” she whispered, finally finished. This is what the guilt was from this whole time?

“I believe ya.” She blinked up at him.

“You do?”

“Pop mentioned what the soldier said ‘bout them tags. And I know what y’all can do. I’ve seen it.” Her eyes widened, denial in their depths. “I saw ya take out three Rabids one night, protectin’ that redheaded friend of yours from the diner.”

“You were there?”

“Pops was very specific ‘bout keepin’ an eye on ya, kid. I follow ya home most nights, if my job allows.”

“Oh!” She bit her lip, twisting her hair around her fingers. She was probably more than a little weirded out, knowing she had her very own stalker escort. He didn’t see any reason in trying to hide the truth of the situation anymore though. He didn’t have many secrets left. Her brow scrunched and she looked up with wide eyes.

“But…but that was months ago,” she gasped. “You’ve known this entire time? And you never said anything?” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “Well now I feel horrible. There I was anxiously demanding answers from you after only a few days, and you’ve been sitting on this for months, patient as can be.”

“Stop it, Thumbelina,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. Her guilt and those big green puppy dog eyes of hers were making him uncomfortable. “Stop feelin’ guilty. Y’all are settin’ my nerves on end with all them emotions spoutin’ off of ya. Besides, there ain’t nothin’ to feel guilty about. I had my own secrets this whole time too, and I didn’t tell you til y’all had to save my sorry hide. We all got our dog days and cat days, kid.” Cajun snickered in the background, and Amiel’s face lifted in a glossy-eyed, but honest smile.

“Which one’s worse?” she asked sweetly. Cajun burst out laughing, hard. Harley scowled at him.

“What?” Amiel’s hand on his arm drew his attention back to her sweet smile, melting his scowl.

“Thank you for being my friend, Harley. You’re a pretty great guy.” Harley cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck again.

“Sure. So…you really wanna go along with these knuckle draggers?”

“If it means finding answers?” She shrugged helplessly. “Harley, I don’t know what happens to me, and I don’t know if I will hurt someone innocent when I black out. Being able to protect myself is great, but I could kill innocent people, even my friends. I need answers.” He wanted to argue that there was no way she could hurt him even if she tried, but the look of desperation on her face was a killer. He sighed and nodded his consent to the plan, even though she didn’t really need it.