Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (56 page)

“That was very brave of you. I never would have dreamed of standing up to my mother that way,” Amiel whispered, lips moving against his chest. He pressed his chin against her head, drawing on her presence for strength.

“Brave. Selfish. Stupid.” He sighed. “My presence made her withdraw into herself more. Cajun told me once, when he was fightin’ the cancer, that he could feel it pressin’ on his brain. He said it made him half crazy, just from that alone. I think that’s a lot of what our mama’s problem was. She got this crazed look in her eyes as time passed. The slightest thing would set her off. She was paranoid and angry all the time. Headaches plagued her constantly, and sometimes her arms and legs would twitch uncontrollably. She complained all day and night of the pain in her head, cryin’ and sometimes screamin’.” His eyes took on a distant expression as he continued.

“One day pop was in the garage, Cajun and I were eatin’ snacks at the table, and ma was just starin’ at the wall. She did that a lot, especially when I was around. We heard screams outside, someone bein’ attacked. The Rabid war was in full swing, but we had rarely seen infected where we lived. Cajun and I ran to the window, peekin’ out, eager in our youth to see what was happenin’. Ma drifted over to the door, throwin’ the locks open. Caj and I looked at her in shock, tried to stop her,
begged
her to stop. She shoved us off, knocking us both to the ground. It was like her frail body had suddenly gained strength from nowhere.” Harley’s jaw tightened, the muscles in it flinching.

“She smiled at me and said,
‘I’ll finally be free of the pain…free of you, Dante’
. She yanked open the door and ran out into the road before we could stop her. My mama chose to be ripped apart by three Rabids, rather than live with the pain of cancer; rather than having to live with seeing my face every day.”

“Harley, I’m so sorry,” Amiel whispered, hugging him tighter. He could feel her tears soaking his shirt again.

“I didn’t tell you this to make ya feel sorry for me, Thumbelina. I told ya because you
needed
to know. Right now, ya feel like someone’s death hangs round your neck like a sign shoutin’
Murderer
. The guilt weighs down your soul until you feel like you’re gonna suffocate on it. I know how that feels. But I ain’t gonna tell ya to not feel guilty about it, cause you always will. You’ll always wonder if ya coulda done somethin’ different to change the way it happened. And I ain’t gonna tell ya that the pain’s gonna go away. Cause it ain’t. It’ll be with you til the day ya die. Stains on the soul don’t go away, kid. The past is what makes ya who you are.” He leaned back slightly, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. “But, darlin’, just because the past made ya who you are
now
, don’t mean it’s got the right to dictate the
rest
of your life.” Her bottom lip trembled and he gently ran his thumb across it.

“My ma chose her path. She didn’t choose her cancer, but she did choose the way she lived the rest of the time she had left. Cajun coulda given up like that, coulda hated the world and everyone around him. He didn’t. He fought and he overcame it. Eventually he overcame his hate for me, too. I did everythin’ I could after mama died to make up for my rebellions that I felt cost her her life. I threw my life into protectin’ what family I had left. When Caj got cancer I did everythin’ in my power to protect him and make him better. It’s the only life I know now. But that’s the choice
I
made. I coulda turned into a real bad case, but I didn’t. Sure, I got issues from it still, I always will. I gotta work on some things still, trustin’ bein’ one of ‘em. But I don’t let the past lead me ‘round by the nose no more. I control my life to the best of my abilities, and I let the rest go.” She blinked up at him with wet lashes and his thumb shifted from her lip to carefully wipe away the tears.

“I didn’t know your brother, Amiel. But I know he musta been a helluva guy. No one can have the love and pain in their eyes that you hold when ya talk about him, and not have been a great guy. He was a fighter, and he loved ya. I know that because he fought to hold on for as long as he could for you, even though he was in a lotta pain. He fought to live, but I think he knew he wasn’t gonna make it, even with them tags on. He held on for as long as he could, but when the pain got to be too much he gave you the thing that brought him strength and safety. He gave them to ya knowin’ that they’d protect ya when he couldn’t no more. I’m sure he knew about the dangers, but I recon he knew y’all were strong and brave enough to handle ‘em.” Harley could see the doubt in her eyes, but that was something that would have to be mended with time. “It’s okay to be mad at him, kid. It’s okay to miss him. But it ain’t okay to pull into yourself and destroy the girl he loved. Buck up, make your brother proud, make his sacrifice worth it. Cause you better believe
he
had no doubt that you were worth it to him.” Fresh tears coursed from her eyes, slipping over his thumbs and trickling down his arms.

“Thank you, Harley.”

“Sure.” He wiped the tears away again, shaking his head. “I don’t like seein’ you cry, kid. But sometimes, I guess ya gotta do it to ever move on.” She sniffed.

“Did you cry?”

“Like a baby,” he admitted gruffly. She smiled a watery smile, leaning in for another hug.

“You’re a great guy, Harley. A great guy,
and
a great friend. Which, I hope you know, means you’re kind of stuck with me from now on.” Harley chuckled softly, resting his head on hers.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re kinda growin’ on me too, Thumbelina.” He could feel her lips pull up into a small smile against his chest. When she pulled away her eyes were clearer, if not dry.

“I’m sorry I said I hated you, Harley. I don’t. And I shouldn’t have said those things about your genes and having no feelings. That was a low blow, and I didn’t mean it, either.” He shrugged, still not sure how to feel about her adamant acceptance of his true nature.

“Y’all needed an outlet, I just provided it for ya. And uh…sorry ‘bout yellin’ and cussin’ at ya the way I did. It wasn’t real gentlemanly of me. I was tryin’ to make ya mad…” He was annoyed at the embarrassed flush spreading across his cheeks, but he deserved it. If pops had heard the way Harley had spoken to her, he’d have taken a whole bar of soap to his mouth and a belt to his backside, no matter how old he was. Talking to a lady that way was never considered acceptable.

“I understand. Please don’t feel bad for it. I’ve noticed the way you’ve tried to watch your language around me in the past, and I appreciate the gesture so much. But today, I needed it. It got through to me, snapped me out of my walking coma,” she assured him.

“You
were
bein’ awful bratty,” he said jokingly, pulling away. “Ya know, you’re pretty scrappy when y’all wanna be. Now, what do ya say I teach ya how to hit the bag the
right
way?” She laughed.

“I think you’d better. I’ve heard that I suck at fighting,” Harley offered a wry smirk.

“Ain’t that the truth. But we ain’t got time today. Y’all gotta clean up that mug and go to work tonight.” He held up a finger, brooking any argument she might make. She nodded with a smile.

“Bucking up. I get it. But I think you’re going to have to take these things off me first. I don’t think I could take down orders with them on.” Harley reached for her gloves, carefully pulling them off. He winced when he saw her raw knuckles.

“Probably shoulda wrapped those first, the gloves were way too big on ya. But y’all were being a pain in my…” He coughed. “Pain in my
brain
, as Caj would say.” Harley cleaned her knuckles up with a first aid kit and then walked her outside. He was relieved to see that Charleen had kept her word and dropped off his motorcycle. He rode with Amiel back to her apartment, enjoying her company. It was the first time he’d been able to ride at her side, rather than creeping behind her. It was kinda nice. When they reached her apartments he waited at the gates instead of following her in.

“Go ahead and do what ya gotta do. I’ll be back in time to follow you to work.”

“You don’t have to do that, Harley.”

“I’m your personal stalker escort guy, remember?” he teased. Her eyes took on a contemplative depth.

“You really have been following me this whole time?”

“When you say it, it makes me sound an awful lot creepier.” He winced. She smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair good naturedly.

“I don’t think you’re creepy. Not at all. I kind of like knowing I have a guardian angel watching out for me.”

“Angel,” Harley said with a snort. Her smile turned serious once more.

“But, you
were
there that night? When I saved Joyce?”

“Yep. It was a wild show.”

“Then it was
you
that I saw…watching me in the road?” Harley frowned. Watching her in the road?

“I was in an alley the whole time- didn’t wanna freak either of ya out. I’m a whole lot of sneaky when I need to be. In a purely non creepy sort of way, I mean.” Amiel matched his frowning with a deeper one of her own.

“It must have been a random person then, I guess.” Harley’s scowl deepened, and she smiled, losing their unspoken frown battle.

“I didn’t see nobody.” He didn’t like the fact that he’d missed something as simple as a random person walking down the road in the night. He sighed, then put on a grin for her benefit. “All the more reason to stalk ya, I guess.” 

“If you insist,” she relented with a grin. “Just don’t go getting in trouble because of me. My guilt train can only hold so much.” She lightly punched his arm, and his hand reflexively shot out, gently swatting her hip. He shrugged apologetically, just grateful it hadn’t been her thigh this time. Luckily she still didn’t seem to mind his instinctual reactions, seeming to even find it humorous.

“Mine, too. So try not to get beat up while on my watch, yeah?”

“Deal.” That cursed dimple showed through in her cheek again, and Harley loved every minute of it.

Amiel

True to his word, Harley had escorted her to and from work that night. It felt nice being able to ride side by side with him. She thought Harley felt relieved to not have to hide in the shadows anymore, too. Work had gone without anyone noticing something was different about her. Joyce wasn’t on shift that night, and she was about the only one who would have cared anyways. Occasionally Amiel would feel the tears coming on again. She’d let them flow for a few minutes, draining away her sorrow, before shoving a bright smile back onto her face. Harley was right. Sometimes you just had to cry in order to have a chance of moving on. And she
did
want to move on. Jaron had made a sacrifice for her, a sacrifice of pure love. She had no right to scorn the gift he’d given her. It would be hard, but she would try her best for him.

Harley had given her a light punch on the arm when she came out of the diner, telling her she’d done a great job. He admitting to having driven by to check in on her several times that night, to make sure she was still bucking up. She loved that he cared enough to do it; it felt nice knowing someone was looking out for her. When he dropped her off that night, he told her she was a hellcat with a bright future. And when he said it, she believed it.

But when she woke up in the middle of sleeping, scratching at her neck, clothing soaked in a cold sweat, Amiel had to wonder if he was right about her future. She had no proof, no evidence to confirm her fears, only the disturbing dream she’d just woken from. In her mind that dream had seemed so real- too real to be just a dream. It had felt more like a memory. She’d been dreaming about fighting the Rabids at the warehouse the day before. And in that dream, a Rabid had
bitten
her, just seconds before Harley shot it. She gripped her bare neck. It had to be a dream. It just had to be.

The Raider

The Raider watched the woman flop back on her bed, clutching the tags to her chest. He grinned deviously. He enjoyed these cameras that his master had had him secretly install in her apartment after she’d moved in. They’d had to wait for her first day of work, needing enough time to install them without her around. But the wait had been well worth it. He particularly enjoyed the bathroom cameras. The vent above the shower afford such a…tasteful view. His leer grew, a long finger rubbing along the length of her prone body as it lay on the bed.
Amiel
. Her name felt so strange on his tongue. It always had. He’d made up his own name for her a long time ago, a more fitting name; a secret name that no one else was allowed to know. His finger trailed across her again as she flopped around. She’d been having a nightmare. Something was haunting her. He’d watched her for so long that he knew her every move, every breath, before it happened.

The Raider’s emotions suddenly arced and he roared, throwing a nearby radio across the room. It shattered against a wall, tiny pieces bouncing across the floor. It did nothing to appease his anger, his thirst for blood. Nothing would appease him, aside from the death of one man.
The Hybrid
. The Hybrid thought he’d been watching the girl for a long time, thought that
he
was her guardian. But he was an amateur. The Hybrid couldn’t know her like the Raider did. He
wouldn’t
know her that way. The Raider would make certain of that. He’d nearly killed him that night, not so very long ago.

His master had been complaining about the Hybrid, how he was always hanging around. The Raider knew all about that. He’d watched the Hybrid watching the girl for some time now; far too long for his liking. The Raider was her
true
guardian, the one who had been watching her for years. That was why he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. It was too bad the explosion hadn’t killed the Hybrid off- but that just meant the Raider had another opportunity to make a longer lasting impression this time around. He stared at the girl on the screen, curled up in a ball under the blankets. He’d always watched over her- and he always would.

Strictly speaking, he’d never been allowed contact with her. Or at least, that’s what his master had ordered. What his master still
assumed
was true. It wasn’t. When they found out about the girl leaving her nag of a mother, the Raider had felt so alive with the future prospects that he’d had to make his presence known. He’d gathered a small band of Rabids from the outer city boundaries, needing them for his plans. It was sheer luck that the old man had left the garage that night, allowing the Raider access to her full attention. He knew she would be watching the screens, drawn to them like a moth to the flame. She had always had the tendency to torture herself with dark curiosities. She was terrified of scary movies, yet when one was on the TV she couldn’t help but to watch it. She’d toss and turn with her nightmares for weeks after, lamenting her curiosity for the curse she thought it to be. It wasn’t a curse though, this the Raider knew. Eventually that curiosity would lead her right to his arms.

He grinned, thinking back to the night that he’d first made her aware of his full presence. Granted, he was sure she had felt him in the past. The way she’d glanced around, searching for the eyes she felt watching her every move was a sheer give away to that fact. He knew that she’d always known someone was out there, watching, somewhere. But this was different. He’d allowed her to actually see him- and it had been thrilling. He’d walked into the camera’s view, staying just enough in the shadows to maintain some mystery. The girl liked mystery. And then, he’d sent the Rabids slamming into the electric fields, sending them to their deaths simply to impress her with his strength and dominion. They’d followed her through the Vasts, heading directly to where his master wanted her. His master thought the Raider was simply following her to make sure she was safe. He didn’t know that he followed her with a band of Rabids at his beck and call. He didn’t know that his pet was teasing and testing his mad heart’s desire.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence.” That’s what the old man had said to the girl once. The Raider rather liked that. Because this,
this
was fate. This was
destiny
. The Raider had sent the Rabids against the fence again that first night. He hadn’t counted on her trying to fling herself into the field, however. That had been a miscalculation on his part. He would admit to that much. He’d been so eager, too eager, to show her his dominance that he hadn’t thought of her instinct-driven reactions. He knew she had the tags. He’d seen them around her neck often enough, watched longingly as she rubbed them, clasped them to her breast the way he wished to be. He knew of her brother, and the way the tags had always affected him, too. He should have known what his actions that night would have made her do. He’d made a mistake.

The Raider had withdrawn, mentally marking down his mistake so that he’d never repeat it. He was good at that. Once he made a mistake, he learned from it and never repeated it. His master was always commending him for that virtue. It was why he was leader of the Raiders, why he had the strength of presence to command the Rabids to do his bidding. And it was why
he
himself, would soon be the master.

After that night, he’d decided to use the tags to his advantage. He’d sent his Rabids after the girl as they raced toward the city walls; he allowed them to attack her. He knew the tags would protect her. He knew she would kill and survive. In the time that she’d been in the city he had sent the Rabids after her over and over again, giving her just enough time to recover, before sending them again. He enjoyed watching from afar, just as he always had. He loved the way she moved, so lithe and graceful, a beautiful avenging angel of death. Of course, it had become more complicated with the arrival of the filthy Hybrid’s attentions toward her. Often times the Rabids he sent for the girl would be intercepted by the pesky Hybrid and his relations before they ever reached the girl. But the Raider would find ways to send more her way. He had to. If she was to be his Queen, she needed to be strong. And soon,
very
soon she would be his.

End of book 1