Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (16 page)

BOOK: Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2
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Pell nodded solemnly. “Let’s just hope I’m right about the immunity part; Asgard help us all if I’m not. Can you imagine that sheer amount of crazy and power in an infected body?” He shuddered, and Harley couldn’t help but agree.

Chapter 19

Amiel

Amiel pulled her long hair into a pony and stood back to check herself over in the mirror. It had been a week since she killed a pile of Rabids, was run into by a bus, fell and bounced off a dumpster, and Collapsed. The bruises were gone except a tiny amount of yellow stains strewn across the left side of her ribs. Based on the vague details Harley had given her on her wounds, she was very lucky it hadn’t been worse.

She grinned into the mirror, loving that the dark circles under her eyes were now nearly nonexistent. Harley leaned against the bathroom door, arms folded over his chest as he watched her put the finishing touches on her pre-work routine. He carried a heavy, solemn air about him, and it made her want to put his elusive grin back in place. She assumed the burden carried on his shoulders had something to do with the last week’s events.

He’d given her a watered-down version of what had happened when she’d tried sleepwalking at the gym, told her he’d had a serious conversation with her other side. She knew there was more under the surface of what he said, but his intentions were clearly felt through their connection. Whatever he wasn’t telling her, he was keeping it from her for her own benefit.

And for now, she was going to be okay with that. Because in the last three nights that she’d been home sleeping in her own bed, she hadn’t had a single clue to indicate she was still sleepwalking. The guards reported she never left the apartments now, and she felt better rested than she had in months. Whatever he’d done for her was working wonders, and she had no doubts as to his loyalty and friendship. He would tell her when the time was right. She bounced on her toes energetically, turning in a circle for him.

“What do you think? Will Stint believe I was in the hospital this whole time?”

Harley’s eyes skated over her from head to toe, not leaving an ounce of her body untouched with his visual caress. Finally he shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Amiel giggled, having to agree. She looked far too healthy, and Stint was going to think she’d been playing truant. Harley had been a gem and called into work for her the day they found her. He’d called in under the guise of a family member and told Stint that she was in the hospital from a motorcycle accident. Stint, in return, told Harley that Amiel had one week to get back to work or she was fired. Nice guy, as usual.

“Well, there’s no help for it. Today’s the last day I’ve got before I’m fired, so it’s off to see the wizard!”

He shook his head at her cheeky grin. “You’re awful excited to get back to a job ya hate, Thumbelina.”

“Doesn’t everyone hate their job? I don’t think anyone in history has been able to have a job that they truly love every aspect of. It’s simply not possible. Anyone saying differently is trying to sell you something,” she retorted saucily. Harley chuckled, pushing away from the door to follow in her wake as she bounced into the kitchen.

“You feelin’ okay, kid?”

“I feel amazing, Harley! I don’t know what kind of mojo you worked with my other side, but oh, my gosh, do I feel alive!” She grabbed up an apple from the wire basket on the counter. “And look! My knives are still happily hanging out on the counter where they belong.”

She strode up to Harley, popping him on the cheek with a kiss that was wildly unplanned and smoothly executed. Even wilder was the fact that she didn’t even think twice about it once it was done, nor did she blush and second-guess the action. For once, she felt free and unfettered from the chains of self-doubt, propriety, and trauma Malinda had fashioned around her heart. She felt free, and she felt light; there was no other way of putting it. Harley stood propped against the counter in full-on statue-man mode, stunned, as she pulled away with a grin.

“You’re a miracle worker, Harley! An absolute miracle worker!” She tossed on her coat, and zipped it up with gusto while the apple was clenched between her teeth. Double-checking that her gun was secured at the small of her back, she grabbed a second apple from the counter, tossed open the door and gestured grandly for Harley to exit. The exuberant wave of her arm only garnered a slight wince as her ribs extended. Harley, observant as ever, instantly caught the twinge. He shifted from one foot to the other in the hallway as she locked up.

“Sure you’re ready to head back to work, kid?”

“I’m right as rain.” Slipping the key into her pocket, she tossed the second apple his way. “An apple a day keeps the Rabids away.” She winked, before heading toward the stairwell. “Come along, Jeeves, I have a date with destiny by way of tips and cranky patrons!” With that, she took off running, jogging down the steps as swiftly as she could. Probably not the best of ideas, as her ribs and hip immediately began aching. She ignored them, isolating the pain and letting it fuel her.

The pain was a reminder that she was alive when she should be dead. The pain was a reminder that she had the potential to be even stronger than before, if she worked for it. She wasn’t sure where the sudden need to be strong had come from, but she felt the need to better herself, to prove herself, down to the very core of her soul. Her heart jolted as Harley raced past her down the stairs, mischievous grin on his face. She hadn’t even heard him following, his steps had been so light. She needed to learn that trick.

She let out a squeak when she rounded the corner on the last flight, coming face to face with Harley. He stood there, majestically lounging against the wall as if he’d been there for hours.

“Took ya long enough. Come on already, Thumbelina. You’ve got a date with destiny, blah blah blah.”

“I was taking it easy on you.”

“Uh huh.” He smirked, turning to hold the door open for her. She paused in the doorway, poking him in the chest.

“Just you wait, Harley Coaver. One of these days, I am going to have you on your back and you won’t know what hit you!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and strutted out of the building with a confidence foreign to her only days ago. Harley shook his head and followed after. A few steps later, she felt the first dip in her temperament all day. His bike stood in the lot, sparkling in the setting sun. And hers, of course, wasn’t. She missed her baby. Harley gently yanked on her pony.

“No worries, kid. Dog and cat days.” He climbed on the bike and offered his hand. She sighed heavily, allowing herself one more moment of self-pity. She was entirely vexed by the fact that her bike had been wrecked. Anger stirred in the depths of her stomach as she pictured Duane’s face.

Clenching her jaw, she pushed her feelings of revenge to the side. There would be time for that one of these days, she would see to it. Plastering her smile in place, she grabbed the hand Harley offered, the other going to his shoulder for a secure grip as she vaulted onto the back of the bike. Immediately she snuggled up behind Harley, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He cleared his throat when she gave him a squeeze. Her ribs offered a twinge, and just to spite them, she gave him another squeeze.

“Tonight is going to be great, I can feel it!” She grinned. Harley shook his head, a small grin tipping the corners of his lips.

“Lay off the drugs, kid.”

“Nope. They’re all mine, and I’m not sharing, so don’t bother asking.”

Harley chuckled and they flew down the road.

She sighed happily, tipping her head back, letting the wind rush over her face. It was brisk enough to make her face tingly and numb, but it was exhilarating all the same. She almost told him to keep driving when they pulled up a block away from the diner. Alas, the real world beckoned, and she couldn’t afford to ignore it. Slipping off the bike, she evaluated the distance between their parking spot and the diner.

“Don’t want to be seen with me, Superman?” she teased, lightly punching his shoulder.

“No.”

Her eyes jerked upward to meet his. The glacial blues held frustration and apology alike.

“I can’t be. We’re takin’ enough risk with me bringin’ ya this far. You’ve seen the signs.” The storm that had risen within earlier, at the thought of Duane, rose again, now filled with thoughts of Stint and his ridiculous sign. She’d forgotten all about that mess. Her hands clenched at her sides as she glared down toward the diner. She suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling.

“What’re ya doin’, power house?” Harley teased, body not budging an inch under her tugging.

“You are coming in for dinner with me.” The muscles under her grip turned rock hard.

“No.”

“They can’t treat you like this, Harley! It just makes me sick. You are some of the best people I’ve ever known and they treat you like dirt. It’s not right,” she seethed. Harley gently turned her face back toward him.

“It’s their establishment; they can treat us any way they want. That part of our country still remains free.”

“Well, it’s a stupid part,” she grumbled.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But it is what it is. Stop the death glare, Thumbelina; it ain’t worth it.”

“You’re worth it. You’re all worth it,” she argued heatedly. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“Still as scary as a soakin’ wet cat.”

She huffed, relinquishing her grip on his hand. Her gaze inevitably found its way back to the diner. Again he redirected her line of sight.

“I mean it, Amiel. No gettin’ into fights with your boss over this. Ya won’t be doin’ yourself any favors, and ya won’t be doin’ us any, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Foundation’s ordered us to stay out of it, and away from the establishments. Draggin’ me in there’ll only cause us trouble. And it’ll bring ya right in the line of Foundation’s sight.”

She ducked her head, defeat on the matter seeming inevitable.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble. I just…” she sighed in exasperation, “I don’t understand. Why doesn’t Foundation issue a public announcement explaining who you are? People are afraid of you because they think you’re a gang of killers or something.”

“We are a gang of killers.” Harley shrugged stiffly.

“No, you aren’t.”

His brow rose, as though silently daring her to contradict him.

“Maybe you kill things, but you’re killing the bad guys! You are making the world a better place, not a worse one. Why let them think you’re bad guys?”

“The world’s holdin’ on by a thread, kid. It’s better that people think we’re just another gang on the street, rather than genetically altered freaks one step away from Rabid. People are more likely to think better of a gang member that shows unexpected kindness by savin’ ’em on the street, rather than genetically altered freaks runnin’ ’round in the night.” 

“You do realize that a lot of people already suspect there is a connection between you and the Rabids, don’t you?”

His eyes turned wary. He was fully aware of what people thought; he’d only been trying to soften the matter for her.

Amiel sighed heavily. “If Foundation let people know you were purposely made the way you are, maybe they wouldn’t be so afraid of your existence.”

“Right now, they’ve only got speculation, kid. Speculation alone is enough to make ’em distrust and hate us. Give ’em solid, hard facts, and there’d be chaos. Don’t matter if we were created to help ’em or not: there’d still be a witch hunt.” A wry smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Besides, you’ve only met a few of us. How do ya know we’re all good? Can’t judge all of us based on only a few.” That was true; she had only met three Hybrids. She bit her lip then and shook her head stubbornly.

“No. You’re the leaders, and a group of people are only as good as the people they allow to lead them. So, Mr. Grumpus, I don’t buy a word of it. Sure, there’s bound to be a few bad eggs, but I am willing to believe the majority of them are simply varying versions of the three of you, not wild animals. You wouldn’t stand for it any other way. And if people could only see you all for what you are, they would appreciate you, not fear you.”

Harley stared at her for a long moment, as though unsure if she were for real or not. Finally he rubbed his eyes with a tired grin.

“Trustin’ to the bone, kid. Even after everythin’ you’ve been through.”

Her chin lifted in the air slightly. “I prefer the word ‘loyal’.”

Harley nodded agreeably.

“That too.” He sighed heavily. “Look, maybe you’re right, kid. Maybe we’re not all that bad. And maybe some people might be reasonable about us if they knew more. But your boss ain’t one of ’em. This ain’t our first run-in with him, and I doubt it’s the last. So, ’round work, we’ll keep our distance. Anythin’ else’ll just get ya fired. Then I’ll have to deal with ya mopin’ ’round the gym all the time.” He winked, fist lightly bumping her chin in a mock punch. Her face loosened, a reluctant smile finding its way through the cracks of her frigid armor of fury.

“That’s my girl. Get your hyper freak back on. Frowns don’t suit ya,” he teased, revving the engine to life. “I’ll be back for ya at the end of your shift.” He paused, slowly reaching out to grab her hand. His thumb ran over the back of it as his eyes lifted, capturing her gaze. The deep glacial depths, the way they flared as they drew her in… it sent her heart racing, and all kinds of very unladylike wishes popped up in her head, too.

“We’ve got somethin’ important to discuss then, too, if you’ve got the time.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, giving her hand one final squeeze before dropping it and speeding away. She nodded belatedly, waving as he disappeared down the road.

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