Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (4 page)

“Well, that’s really nice of you.” He winced. “But see, I may have lied when I said we hadn’t met before. Pellerton the third, possibly from Viking namesakes, at your service.” This time he did bow, and Amiel’s eyes immediately brightened.

“Oh! I remember! You were there my first night working at the restaurant. I thought I recognized you!”

He nodded sheepishly.

“But why did you lie?”

“Honestly? I was embarrassed. As I said, I’m socially awkward. What I say and what I mean are often misconstrued. For example, my story about the cow whilst backpacking? That came out sounding entirely devious. Really, I was just thirsty… sadly, I don’t even like milk that much.”

Amiel couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Pell was definitely awkward, yet you couldn’t help but like him.

“I just wanted to apologize, first for lying, and second for the awkwardness I exude. Yeah, yup… that’s about it.”

Amiel placed a hand on his shoulder in consolation, earning a deeper blush out of him.

“Pell, you should never have to apologize for being who you are. In fact, it should be celebrated. So many people have an impossible time being who they really are. They’re too afraid to let people see their real selves. You, on the other hand, have enough courage to own who you are.”

Pell’s face erupted in a smile so brilliant it was nearly blinding. “Thank you, Amiel! I never thought of it that way before.”

“You’re welcome, Pell. And thank you for all the help you’ve given me. You are a true friend, slaps and all.” She winked, and his face grew impossibly redder.

“Yes, well. I am definitely a trend setter in medical advances and bedside manner,” he offered, to which Amiel giggled.

“There you go!” She stopped laughing as her eyes were suddenly drawn ahead to where Cajun stood at the bus stop bench. He watched them carefully, clearly wondering about their jovial conversation. Pell eagerly dove into his donut bag, offering a goofy grin to Cajun before walking off to sit on a park bench, allowing them privacy. Amiel took a deep breath, then handed the second bag of donut dips over to Cajun.

“Truce?”

His face immediately softened. “I’m sorry, bird. I behaved badly. I never should have spoken to you that way about your brother. I was a real no-hopper.”

“I… wait, a what?”

“My apologies. Lost in translation.” He grinned. “A no-hopper. It means a fool, or a loser.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no! No, you weren’t. I understand. You were only thinking of protecting your family. And I was protecting the only thing I have left of mine.” She bit her lips against the threat of tears. There was no time or place for that right now. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes. “And you were right. I am an unknown factor. I put others at risk. Apparently I’ve added you guys to the list. So,
I’m
sorry too. You know, for existing and all that.” She chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Cajun’s eyes immediately turned serious. “No, bird, never say that. Maybe you are traveling a dangerous and lonely path, but so are we. You…” He ran a hand over his short haircut, the movement striking her in that moment as the closest she had ever seen Cajun and Harley resembling one another. It was endearing. She felt some of her muscles loosening, relaxing.

“You’re the first real friend my little brother has ever had, bird. You’ve given him an anchor in life. You ground him and steady him in a way no one ever has before, more so than even Tandy or I can,” he admitted humbly. “Listen. You showing up in our lives, it may be a bit hectic and dangerous. But it couldn’t have come at a better time for Harley. He needs you.”

“Needs me?” she whispered.

“More than you know,” Cajun replied solemnly. “You offer him what no one else can. You pull him away from the brink. And for that, I owe you more than an apology. I’m truly grateful for your existence, Amiel, no matter how bumpy the road may be.” 

Amiel bit her lip, not knowing what to say to such a heartfelt and earnest reply from Cajun. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He shrugged, boyish grin back in place. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to find a way to apologize since I screwed up, but Harley makes an impressive babysitter when he puts his mind to it. I thought it best to avoid another confrontation, and have been biding my time. He’s on a mission for Foundation right now, so I knew it was now or never.”

“Are you two fighting, then?” Amiel asked, mouth turning down in a guilty frown. “I am so sorry. The last thing I wanted was to come between the two of you. You’ve been through so much together; it isn’t fair for me to waltz in and make trouble.”

Cajun’s eyes became wary, carefully watching some random citizens as they gave him distrustful glances of their own, walking by on their way through the park. Amiel watched, sending her own scowl back at the passersby. People could be so closed-minded at times. They always had been, throughout history. But today it seemed rather abundant.

Shrugging the tension from his shoulders, he looked back to Amiel. “No worries, bird. It’ll be right eventually. It always is.”

“No, really, I’m so sorry. I don’t want there to be contention between the two of you, especially because of me. It’s just not right.”

Cajun waved her off. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s in the past. You stuck up for yourself, and I respect that. Harley will be right soon enough. He’s mostly just been set on me keeping my distance because he’s worried I’ll say something stupid again. He’s awful protective of his little friend.” He winked, finally digging into the bag of donut dips. Eyes brightening with the discovery of what lay inside, he grinned up at her.  “I’m just happy that he has a friend to protect. That’s enough for me.”

But that wasn’t enough for Amiel. She knew the pain of losing her brother. She knew that Harley had nearly lost Cajun in the past. She wouldn’t let there be any more pain or lost time between the two brothers. She was going to fix this if it was the last thing she did.

“Cajun?”

He looked up from his sugary treats.

“Could I maybe have Charleen’s phone number?”

Cajun stared at her, nervously wide-eyed, donut halfway in his mouth. Amiel grinned. 

Tandy

“Mud Hogs Travel Agency.  What a horrid little cesspool. Couldn’t you have thought of a better name for it? Something more civilized?” Malinda Hilden strolled about Tandy’s shop, running a polished finger over the odds and ends on his shelves. She turned with a vicious grin. “Of course, no matter the name, those among civilized society still would never step foot inside.”

“I suppose y’all consider yourself among the civilized?”

“Of course.”

“In that case, I’m glad to not have the civilized comin’ ’round for regular visits.”

Malinda’s eyes narrowed in what he supposed to be her usual intimidating glare. He easily ignored it, content to merely watch her with a silent, steady gaze of his own.  Huffing, she strode to the chair and made a show of wiping the leather with a napkin from her purse before sitting. “I imagine you are curious as to why I am here.”

“The notorious Malinda Hilden in my establishment, where no civilized person would enter?” He shrugged, unconcerned. “Can’t say as I’m all that excited ’bout it. To what do I owe the displeasure of your civilized company?”

“That accent. It sets my nerves on edge every time I hear it.” Malinda sneered, shuddering in disdain. “I think we both know the reason I am forced to endure your presence today.”

“’Fraid I can’t think of any instance as horrifyin’ as what it would take to bring the likes of you to my shop.”

“Let us skip the pleasantries, Mr. Coaver. I have reason to believe that you had a visit from my daughter shortly before her disappearance. I want to know why.”

“And I wanna know why your nose is upturned like a rhinoceros. But I’m afraid ain’t neither of us gonna find our answers today. Y’all were just leavin’, after all. Can’t have anybody seein’ ya here and thinkin’ you ain’t civilized, can we?” Tandy offered a smirk that obviously set Malinda’s insides on fire.

“You presume to dismiss me before my inquiries are satisfied?”

“I presume nothin’. Your satisfaction ain’t none of my concern. Or any man’s, I’d wager.”

“I do not care for your tone, Mr. Coaver. I think you forget who I am.”

“How could I forget who you are? Malinda Hilden, the viper of Rockville, destroyer of hopes and dreams, stealer of children’s candy.”

Malinda’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Oh, spit and hiss all ya like, viper. I ain’t afraid of the likes of you. Ya might not like my tone, but there ain’t a damned thing I like ’bout you, neither. You’re a selfish, spoiled brat that thinks she deserves the world just ’cause she was homecomin’ queen, or some such thing. But I got news for ya. I dealt with vipers like you all my life. And the funny thing ’bout vipers? Cut the head off and it tastes just like chicken.”

“Was that a threat, Mr. Coaver?” Malinda whispered darkly.

“Don’t take it too literal, girl. I ain’t really gonna eat ya. My mama taught me better than to put dirty things in my mouth when I was still in diapers.”

“Given your advanced age, that advice was probably quite recent,” Malinda snarled. Tandy shrugged again. For an insult to bother a person, they first had to care what the other had to say. He didn’t. The woman fumed, annoyed her barb hadn’t had the intended effect. “Is this the only answer I can expect from you, then?”

“Think it’s ’bout time y’all got used to disappointment. It certainly ain’t the first one you’ve had today.”

Malinda’s eyes widened slightly before she regained control. Tandy kept the grin from his face.  “Yeah, I heard. You had a meetin’ with Berlintine Bank today. It didn’t go so well there, neither, did it?” That was an understatement. Coffee shop rumor had it that Malinda had stormed out of the bank in a full-on huff. Someone inside the bank had leaked the gossip about it within moments of the occurrence.

Apparently Malinda had caught wind of Amiel having been there before her disappearance, too. The witch was roasting the entire town over it. She went to Berlintine demanding answers as to what the girl had been doing in their establishment. The bank replied that there was no record of Amiel having ever been there and even went so far as to have Malinda escorted to the door. Fire burned in the woman’s eyes now, the slight of the matter clearly still fresh in her mind. Promptly standing from her chair, Malinda glowered.

“You’ve just made a very powerful enemy, Mr. Coaver.” She offered the vengeful promise as she strode toward the door.

“Made one of them the moment I moved into this Hell-bound town, I’d reckon,” Tandy acknowledged.

“I will have my answers, one way or another,” she threatened. Tandy leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, entirely unconcerned.

“Another thing ’bout them vipers: once you’ve been bit often enough, ya tend to build up an immunity of sorts. Ain’t much venom that can bother me these days.”

Her eyes turned cold, glittering with a darkness that Tandy could only classify as evil. “I think you will find that I’m a different breed, Mr. Coaver. One you’ve never come up against before. My bite might just be more than you can handle.” With that, she shoved her nose in the air and left the shop, her little henchman following in her wake. Tandy watched her go, not releasing his breath until he heard the engine of his son’s invention disappearing into the distance.

“Confounded woman,” Tandy growled. How that she-devil had mothered Amiel was beyond him. They were like night and day. Running a hand over his face in frustration, Tandy considered his options. Sensing his mood, the dogs pushed their noses against his arm.

“Yeah. I know. Maybe I shoulda let ya eat her.”

Lugnut sneezed, almost like he was in agreement with that statement; that, or the mutt was disgusted by the idea of having to bite her. The thought made Tandy grin.

“Well, pack up kids, time to get the hell outta dodge. It was a fun run while it lasted,” Tandy muttered, standing and taking a look around his shop. He was going to miss the place — though he wouldn’t miss the town, that was certain. Picking up the phone, he made the necessary calls to contacts for the movement of his bikes across the states. They showed swiftly, packing and moving everything in the shop, from the tiniest bolt to the biggest bike. Tandy watched as he set about preparing for war. It was gonna be a hell of a ride.

Amiel

“Harley?” Amiel whispered loudly, feeling the darkness enfolding her like an oily shroud. She shivered, stepping further into the gym. She’d been meeting Harley here every day like clockwork since they began training together all those months before. When she’d been on night shift, she’d come two hours before work so she’d still have time to get ready when they were done. Since going on day shift, she had started coming an hour after work was over. Today was different. Today she was late, and the gym was completely dark.

“Harley! Are you in here?” Her hand rose to the tags, their cheery tingle letting her know that nothing dangerous was amiss. Yet her surroundings were certainly shouting differently. Biting her lip, Amiel ignored her impulse to flee and climbed the stairs. It was something they had been working on lately, her need to embrace her instincts and ignore the rest of her impulses. Harley said it might help her have more control over the tags’ reactions, if she was more in tune with her instincts. It was difficult for her to separate the two: her old life, from the new. Her old life told her that she was awkward, graceless and easily replaceable. Her new life told her that she was a lean, mean fighting machine that needed to break open the instruction manual before someone got hurt. Harley was helping her walk the insanely thin line between them. And it was no easy task.   

A shaft of light split the darkness just as what felt suspiciously like a rolled-up sock flew at her face. She stumbled to the side in a clumsy attempt to avoid it, the fabric tickling her skin as it whizzed by.

“You’re late!” The grin in Harley’s voice was obvious as it floated toward her in the darkness. Hearing his voice brought instant relief, despite the fact that he had just scared the crap out of her. She turned to see him walking toward her from the back office, the light of the doorway illuminating him from behind.

“And you’re sitting in the dark like a total creeper!” she grumbled back. “Did you just throw a sock at me?”

Harley grinned and shrugged. “They’re clean.” His smile slipped slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we turn on the lights, please?” Amiel hated that her voice shook, but she couldn’t help it. He watched her for a moment before turning and disappearing into the darkness. The lights flipped on with a blinding intensity. When she could finally see past the spots in her eyes, she found Harley standing across the room, watching her with a frown. He wore a pair of loose gym shorts and a gray wifebeater. It was his usual gym attire, the same type of clothing he’d worn every day for the last few weeks. Yet somehow it always seemed to catch her by surprise and send her blushing.

“I scared ya,” he stated, sounding somewhat repentant as he approached.

“Not you. I could feel you through the tags. I knew I was safe. But I am… unsettled by darkness,” she answered glumly. “Honestly, I hate the dark.”

His frown deepened. “You rode home in the dark for months,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I have the bike’s lights, so I can still see. It’s not the same.”

“I leave the lights off in the gym when they ain’t bein’ used. Saves money. I was waitin’ till ya got here to turn ’em on, but it got dark faster than I realized. Ain’t no windows in the office.” He eyed her for a moment, a hint of protectiveness eking into his gaze. “Any particular reason why ya don’t like the dark?”

Amiel turned her back, searching for the rolled-up sock missile.

“Aside from the fact that zombie freaks and thugs tend to lurk in it, you mean?” She stalled, glancing jauntily over her shoulder.

Harley offered a self-deprecating grin, nodding in acknowledgement. “Yeah, dumb question.” His hand rose to rub at the back of his neck. “I’m used to roamin’ ’round in the dark, and I think of the gym as a sort of safe haven, I guess. I didn’t think on how the dark would make ya feel.”

She picked up the roll of socks and chucked them back at him. He easily swiped them out of the air with one hand, the rest of his body not moving an inch. Replying to his smug grin with a playful glare, she finally confessed.

“I used to feel like someone was watching me at night when I slept. Well, all the time really, but especially when I slept. So I always slept with a light on… I still do.” Embarrassed over how childish it sounded, she felt heat flushing her cheeks. Harley’s brow creased, and she could see the hundreds of dark musings whirling about in his arctic gaze. She opened up her internal barriers just a smidge in an effort to better absorb his current emotions through their link.

His Hybrid protective nature was pacing; it wanted to find what had made her feel so threatened as a child that it still followed her now. It was equally as annoyed by the fact that, without a time machine, hunting down the cause quite simply wouldn’t be possible. Yet Harley and his Hybrid’s need to protect her conflicted with another sensation. She slammed down her barriers when she felt the hint of frustration that was aimed at
her
.

Closing the barriers didn’t erase what she’d felt in that moment, though. The Hybrid wanted her to stop being afraid, to stop letting the unknown threaten her. It wanted her to toughen up, and it was mildly disappointed in her.

Her teeth clenched, and she fought the ridiculous urge to harbor hurt feelings. The Hybrid was a thing of feral instinct. It did what it must to survive, and it didn’t take lightly to weakness in itself or others. She couldn’t expect that part of him to behave as though it were human; to accept her frailties, when its very survival depended on strength. Rather, she should aspire to be stronger, to gain more of its respect; not let it bulldoze her with its momentary lowered esteem. In the end, she was the idiot who had gone looking for the knowledge of what it thought in that moment, so she had no room to feel upset when she heard it. Despite her internal arguments, it still smarted.

Amiel bit her lip. She thought she had come a long way, in the time of living away from her mother. And yet there were moments when reality would come crashing in on her. She may have put a vast physical distance between her and her mother, but she hadn’t put all that much distance between the abuses she’d suffered all her life and the new life she was trying to build. That was going to take a lot more time.

She was trying every day: trying to toughen up; trying to lead her life the way she wanted; trying to discover who she was. But at moments like this, she was conflicted. Where did her need to please others separate from her own needs? Should she be aspiring to become a stronger person, like the Hybrid desired? Or should she merely be happy with how far she had come, and let the rest go? Obviously she should be living life for herself, not trying to be what others wanted. Yet, shouldn’t one aspire to become better? Hadn’t Jaron himself always urged her to do so? Didn’t she want that for herself? Where was the line between her true self and what others wanted from her?

Harley’s brow creased, head twitching to the side as he examined her in interest. Groaning in internal frustration, Amiel remembered that their bond was a two-way street. If she felt Harley’s Hybrid feelings, Harley had likely felt her girly feelings of inadequacies, and so had his Hybrid. She offered a grin, internally locking further down on her emotions, not giving them room to discover the true depths of the situation.

Sighing, Harley shook his head and looked away. The look on his face bespoke the feelings Amiel harbored herself; this bond thing added a new level of complicated to a relationship that was already on a level of complication of its own. There was a reason people weren’t normally so deeply in tune with others. Some things just weren’t meant to be shared, because sometimes you just weren’t ready to know them.

“All right, we need to work on this darkness issue, as well as the whole second-guessin’ yourself thing,” Harley grunted bluntly. “You keep holdin’ back, and ya ain’t gonna learn a thing doin’ that. Ya need to trust yourself, and ya need to trust your instincts. You won’t always be able to see your enemies, kid.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I understand.” She steeled her resolve. She hated feeling weak. And she hated looking weak to Harley. She knew how much weakness affected the way a Hybrid thought of themselves and those around them. She bit her lip in frustration, again mentally berating herself.

“Stop that,” Harley ordered, pulling down on her lip with his thumb so that it popped free of her teeth’s prison. “I know what you’re doin’, belittlin’ yourself in your head. Knock it off, Thumbelina. Don’t hurt yourself when you’re frustrated. It won’t solve anythin’.” His censure was gently given, yet clearly understood.

“Sorry,” she apologized in contrition.

He released a heavy sigh and walked away. “Stop apologizin’. You’re human. Ya make mistakes, and ya get frustrated and afraid. It’s normal. But they’re strong emotions, and ya need to learn how to put the outlet of their release into other things, not direct ’em at yourself.”

Amiel shrugged uncomfortably out of her jacket, tossing it to the side as she thought. Harley had an unerring way of digging deep and laying her bare, without even trying. And so far, he had an unerring way of being right. He grabbed something from the counter on the other side of the room and returned, lifting her chin with gentle fingers.

“Do ya trust me, Thumbelina?”

The question surprised her, but her answer was firm. “Of course.”

“Good. I wanna try somethin’, but if it makes ya uncomfortable, you need to tell me. None of this tryin’ to be strong when you’re panickin’ on the inside. There is a difference between pushin’ yourself and throwin’ yourself over the cliff. You get panicked at all, about anythin’, you tell me and I’ll walk ya through it. Got it?”

She nodded contritely, ever the humble student. He stepped closer, and she realized what he’d grabbed from the counter was his t-shirt. She eyed it for a moment before coming up with a sassy reply.

“Giving me another shirt? I might start thinking you don’t like my wardrobe if you keep this up.”

Harley blinked, then shook his head. “Nope. I like this shirt. You’re not stealin’ this one from me.”

“Oh, I see, I only get the reject shirts?” she returned playfully.

He eyed her, his wary expression making it clear he didn’t quite know how to handle her when she got like this. “Stop that. You’re distractin’ me, and it’s not gonna get ya outta this. So knock it off.”

She clamped her mouth shut, dramatically zipping her lips and tossing the key, though she couldn’t stop them from turning up in the corners with mischief. There was something empowering about being able to throw Harley off balance now and then.

“Stop it,” Harley grumbled. “Now, we’re gonna work on this thing with the dark. I’m gonna wrap this ’round your eyes like a blindfold. Next time I’ll bring somethin’ better suited for it, but today we’ll try this.”

“Next time? You’re planning on blindfolding me often, then?” She giggled nervously. He bent to look in her eyes.

“We need to break you of this fear, kid. If we don’t, it’ll hang over your head and be used against ya eventually. Weaknesses always work that way, especially with Rabids. Okay?”

She nodded silently, closing her eyes to let him know she was ready. She could hear him shifting, moving around behind her. Her heart leapt into a gallop when she felt the warmth of his chest so near, yet not touching. The fabric tickled her oddly sensitive skin as it slid into place over the bridge of her nose, obscuring her view. He gently tied the bundle in a knot at the back of her head, swiping a hand down her long hair as he tied it, so that the strands didn’t get tangled in the knot.

“How’s that — can ya see?”

She cleared her throat. “No, nothing.”

“How does it make you feel?” he asked quietly, voice suddenly coming from in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him move.

“Uhh…” She wasn’t entirely willing to admit that it made her feel like a giggly teenage girl with her first crush. That would be embarrassing, even for her.

“Are ya panickin’?” he clarified, and her cheeks heated.

“Oh.” She studied herself for signs of freak-out. Aside from feeling nervous under his unseen scrutiny, she didn’t feel panicked. Not like she had earlier, in the dark. “No. I think I’m okay with this.” She frowned. “I don’t get it. What is the difference? I still can’t see.”

“The lights are on. You’ve seen the layout, you’ve seen me. I’ve talked ya through what we’re doin’.” She could practically feel him shrug. “You’ve been prepared for the situation and ya know if ya need to, you could just push the cloth off your eyes and the light will be on. You may not be able to see, but ya still feel an amount of control over the matter. I guess.”

She mulled over his words for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I can identify with that.”

“Okay. So, we’re gonna try this at a comfortable pace for ya.” Though she knew he was taking it slow for her benefit, she couldn’t help but feel irritated, her pride being pricked over weakness once more. She knew Harley didn’t mean it that way. But that was how she felt. Being a girl brimming with hormones and emotions sucked sometimes. Taking a deep breath and shaking it off, she straightened her back and shoulders, nodding.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“Listen. Feel. Use your senses to reach out and locate me. Cleans often find themselves relyin’ too heavily on one or two senses for specific tasks.” His voice shifted as he moved, and she turned her head to follow. “It’s not till someone loses their sight or hearin’ that they start realizin’ they have other senses to rely on, too. You don’t need to completely lose it, to find the ability. Anybody can do it if they focus hard enough.”