Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (36 page)

Amiel

There was a knock at the door. Smiling at the clock, she realized Harley had come early. She had no idea why he still knocked. He had a key. She'd told him time and again to just let himself in. Of course, she imagined it had more to do with his respectful upbringing than anything. Aside from the time she had woken to find him sprawled on her bed passed out, he still knocked every time. While she would be totally fine with him just waltzing in, she had to admit she kind of loved that he solidly lived by his personal code of gentlemanly dictates. Besides, they were still in tentative territory in their friendship, with this even newer, intimate part of it. He’d start walking in on his own when he was good and ready, and she wasn’t going to push the matter.

Throwing on a brilliant smile, she pulled the door open, leaning up against the frame in what she hoped was a sexy, but not overly obvious, pose. Her heart nearly burst into a thousand pieces when she found herself looking not at Harley's gorgeous smile, but Malinda Hilden's decisively stormy scowl. Pulling herself up straight, Amiel wrapped her arms around her chest, instantly feeling the need to protect herself.

“Mother. What... what are you doing here?”

“What indeed. I imagine I am the last person you were expecting to see, here in this rat’s squalor.” Malinda glanced around, disgust obvious on her pristine features. It rankled Amiel's nerves. This place had become her home, making her happier than she had ever been while living under her mother's roof. As such, she found herself protective of it. The implied insult in her mother's tone prodded Amiel's ire just enough to remind her that she no longer had to answer to Malinda Hilden.

Jeller’s face flashed in Amiel’s mind, and her ire shifted into a simmering fury. The darkness within her stirred, pressing for allowance to surface, demanding justice. Amiel fought against it; she couldn’t let that side come out, not now. Because, with the hate she felt boiling inside, she might not stop. And Amiel wasn’t about to let Malinda turn her into her internal mirror image.

Squaring her shoulders, Amiel set her face to stone, grabbed her jacket and keys from the counter and stepped out into the hallway. The door shut behind her with a firm thud, locks clicking into place at her back. She smiled, already feeling better with the knowledge that her mother wouldn't be able to enter her safe haven.

“Well, aren't you the snide little creature,” Malinda sneered, moving to block off her path. “Obviously your surroundings have not improved your attitude.  The sooner I get you home, the better.” She made a grab for Amiel’s wrist, but Amiel easily sidestepped it. She grinned as the surprise resurfaced on Malinda’s face. Amiel smirked her own silent reply.

That’s right, Mother, I’m much faster than the last time we met. And that’s not all that has changed
.

Moving around Malinda, she shrugged into her jacket and trudged down the hall without another word. She skipped down the stairs, eager to get away from her mother before her temper got the best of her. She needed to put some distance between them, or she just might flatten her mother's expensive nose job. Malinda, however, seemed to take this as her daughter's easy compliance.

“Well, I must say I thought it would be more of a fight, getting you to leave this little hovel. We might actually make the train on time.” She grinned triumphantly, trying to keep pace with her daughter.

“Leave? Oh, I'm leaving, all right, but I'm not leaving with
you
,” Amiel growled.

“Very well, then you may stay in a separate car on the train, if you are going to cause such a fuss.” Malinda sniffed, obviously ignoring the real message behind her daughter’s words. “No need to pack anything,” she added in disgust.  “You have plenty of much better things at home. As it is, we will have to delouse you before you step foot in the house. We'd just have to burn anything you brought back, at any rate.”

Amiel opened her mouth to reply as she shoved out the door at the bottom of the stairwell, but quickly snapped it shut. A potent, stinging, astringent-like scent hung heavily on the brisk evening air, taunting Amiel’s gag reflex. She hated that smell. It was the scent Cleans used on areas that an infected had died on, in hopes of destroying any infection that might be left behind after burning the body. She glanced toward the right at the blackened area, where nothing remained of the body that had been incinerated and then doused with the cleaner. The scent left Amiel’s nose feeling raw and completely useless. That stuff was harsh on sensitive senses. Malinda sniffed daintily into a handkerchief.

“Very classy place you live in, Amiel. Rabids getting right up near the door before they are taken down.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Filthy savages.”

Amiel stared at the spot a moment longer before tearing away her gaze. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was surprising a Rabid had made it this far into the complex. That had never happened before, at least not since she moved in. She glanced toward the front gates, wondering just how the infected had managed to get inside. Malinda’s renewed attempt at capturing her wrist snapped Amiel out of her internal musings. Spinning out of reach, Amiel headed for her bike, picking back up where she left off in her battle defense against her mother, the infected momentarily forgotten.

“I'm not going anywhere with you, and you're not burning any of my stuff.”

Her heart pounded harder in her chest as her eyes fell on her mother’s large, black, armored sedan at the gate. Would her mother force her to go back? Set her goons on her? Was Geno here? The thought sent a tremor down her spine, before she forced some strength back into it. They'd have a surprise or two coming their way if they tried to force her into that car. She might not be able to kill them, and she might end up with a serious nosebleed and headache, but she could still hand them their man bits on a plate, thanks to Harley's training.

“Oh yes, I promise you, we
will
be burning everything. And we'll start with that travesty you are currently wearing.” Malinda motioned to her outfit, and Amiel stiffened in anger. She would never admit it out loud, but she had spent an entire week’s salary on this outfit. Salary from a job she didn’t have anymore. Aside from that, she was wearing the leathers that Tandy had given her when she left home, and she wasn’t about to let Malinda near any of it. She zipped the jacket up tightly, body coiling for a fight.

“Oh, please, child. That zipper won’t keep me from burning the whole outfit. I’ll cut it off you, if I must. Honestly, Amiel, you look like a common street whore in such clothing. Tell me you haven’t stooped to whoring yourself out to pay rent.” She tsked in disgust, eyes shifting to the bike behind her.

“And that thing.” She shuddered. “Only the worst scum ride about on the backs of those beasts. I am ashamed of you.” She paused, a black cloud of hate moving across her eyes. “I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. You
are
Warwick's daughter, after all.”

Amiel clenched her teeth. She had no idea what being Warwick’s daughter had to do with “whoring herself out” and being “the worst scum”, but Amiel was done listening to her mother’s tirade. Her father might never have had the nerve to stick up for himself, but Amiel was strong now. She’d stick up for the both of them.

“Leave Daddy out of this! The only whore in this family is you!”

Malinda couldn't have appeared more shocked if Amiel had slapped her. “Don't you dare talk to me that way, Amiel. You disrespected me at the hospital, in our home, and by going behind my back on this foolhardy bid for selfish independence. I have humored your temper tantrums thus far, but I will suffer you no longer!”

“I give respect where respect is due, Mother. Should you have chosen to behave in a more amiable manner, I might have given you the respect you so haughtily demand. I would have given you anything in the world, just to feel for one moment that you loved me. But I’m afraid that is too much to ask. Have you ever loved anyone? I don’t think you are capable of such a thing.  Instead, you demoralize, abuse, and destroy all that is good and worthy in your path. Those worthy of my respect earn it through their admirable behavior and actions. You have been cruel in every aspect of my life, hated any person that I ever showed affection toward, and treated them cruelly.” Amiel’s eyes narrowed. “Even killed them.”

“
Some
of us are not afraid to do what is necessary in life.” Malinda’s eyes glimmered, a dark flicker of devious pleasure in their depths. And that was the only answer Amiel needed. Malinda knew that Amiel was aware of Jeller’s death, she knew that it hurt her, and she loved it. Her mother was indeed a cold-hearted killer. Amiel’s lip curled.

“You disgust me. I will
never
respect you.” 

“Insolent, disobedient wretch! I will not allow you to make a fool of me again. When we return home, I expect this behavior to be demolished. I will be shown respect and compliance, even if I have to have Geno spank it out of you!”

The tags suddenly tingled, letting her know that Harley was near. That meant soon he would be able to feel her distress and come to her aid. And the last thing Amiel wanted was for the two forces of nature in her life to meet one another. She needed to end this meeting, and fast. Gathering as much calm within herself as possible, Amiel held her head high.

“I am never returning to your house, and your lap dog will never lay a single finger on me again. You have lost your power over me, Malinda. I’ve made my choices. Whether you choose to accept them or not is a burden on your soul, not mine. I suggest you leave. Now.”

“You know your brother chose the same path you are walking now: the path of rebellion. I tried my best, but hardheaded as he was, I could not keep him from joining the ranks in the military. I have found that, with children, you must pick and choose your battles.”

“Don't pretend to be motherly. It doesn't suit you,” Amiel replied venomously. Malinda eyed her shrewdly.

“Look at you. So much potential, wasted! Not an ounce of ladylike mannerisms to be found. You’re pathetic. It vexes me beyond comparison to think of all those wasted years, the great lengths I went to in grooming you, only to see it tossed into the gutter.”

Amiel wanted so badly to lash out, to hurt her mother in any way she could. Yet she fought to maintain control, refusing to act on her instinct’s thirst for violence in this instance. Her silence seemed to only further infuriate Malinda. Her whole frame quaked under repressed fury. Amiel nearly grinned. She’d never seen her mother so worked up in her life. Malinda wasn’t used to not getting her way. But when it came to her daughter, she was going to have to learn, because Amiel would never bow to her again.

“Enough of this. We’re leaving now.” Malinda tried once more.

“No. You're leaving. And I
never
want to see your face again.” Amiel was silently proud of how strong and steady her voice sounded, and even more emboldened by the knowledge reflected in her mother's eyes. Malinda now knew her daughter was no longer pliant to her will, and she had no idea what to do about that fact. Clearly, she hadn’t thought Amiel would put up a fight, or she would have brought Geno along with her. Malinda had underestimated her. In a world she had become accustomed to winning in, Malinda had no idea how to accept a loss. As always, the emotions swiftly disappeared from her eyes, replaced with a vengeful hatred.

“So that is your choice, then?” Seeing her only remaining child’s steady, silent response, Malinda glowered. “You do, of course, realize this means you are out of the inheritance, and hereby disowned.”

“I consider it a privilege.” A mad sort of grin fought the corners of her lips.

“The world was at your fingertips, a world of privilege in return for simple compliance. Instead, you throw it to the wind. And for what?”

Amiel did grin this time. She wasn’t giving up the world. She was welcoming it with open arms. Malinda released a harsh breath of anger, tugged down on her blazer’s shirttails and tossed back her hair, eyes clenching closed. After a moment’s space, Malinda opened her eyes, a collected woman with the devil in her gaze.

“Very well, then. But do remember one thing, Amiel. You know by now that I never lose a war. Enjoy your momentary reprieve while it lasts. I promise it won’t be long.” Malinda offered a condescending grin before climbing into the car. Amiel watched the car pull away, watched until it was just a black speck in the distance.

“You suck!” she shouted, half-heartedly, knowing the car was too far away now for her juvenile response to be heard. She had finally done it. She had stood up against her mother, just like Jaron had always wanted her to. Just like her father had never been able to. She should feel relieved and proud. In a small way, she did. Yet a huge part of her simply felt lost, the heavy shroud of impending doom looming over her shoulders. Malinda Hilden did not make threats that she did not intend to keep.

Harley’s motorcycle pulled into the gates at that moment, and Amiel sighed in relief. At least she had managed to avoid dragging Harley down with her. One disaster averted. She stepped close to Harley as he stopped the bike, eager to be near his warm, comforting presence.

“Everythin’ okay, Thumbelina?” Harley looked around, suspicion in his eyes, surveying every corner for shadows. He’d sensed the distraught emotions in their connection, apparently, and was now searching for the hidden enemy. One sniff of the air had his eyes lighting with recognition. Amiel’s hand in his, he approached the blackened spot on the ground near the apartment doors. He turned, shouting at one of the guards. Hesitantly, Don approached, warily eyeing Harley’s thunderous glare.