Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (44 page)

“Gross, I don’t want to know about your master’s life-giving tubes. Get away from me!” She bucked against the bed, angrily trying to shove him away with her body. He grinned, placing his hand on her stomach in a far-too-intimate gesture. She writhed against it, trying in vain to make him stop touching her.

“I love your fire,” he purred, fingers running lightly over her abdomen. He looked up suddenly, eyes drawn to the doorway. Amiel groaned as her head churned, what she imagined was the beginning of her transition to a filthy Raider beginning within. Sweat broke out across her skin as Grim stood, pressing a finger to her lips.

“Don’t tell him I was here. You do not understand yet, but my blood has freed yours. Our time will come, but it is not yet.” He slowly sank into the shadows at the back of the room, his body shifting to hide behind a hospital-style curtain just as the door opened. Amiel’s head lolled to the side to see the real Darvey step in from the hallway, a tray of items in his hand.

“Hello, Chipmunk,” he greeted jovially. Amiel’s eyes shifted to Grim where he still stood partially behind the curtain. One hand rose to wave at her in his usual display, and she snapped. She let out a wretched, piercing scream, throwing herself against the bonds on her wrists and ankles. Darvey looked at her in surprise.

“Well, that was unnecessarily dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Let me go!” she moaned, voice becoming hoarse. Tiny sparks of pain twinged throughout her body, feeling like small claws opening and closing within her veins.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, truly confused. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. Why would I let you go, after working so hard to bring you to me?”

Amiel swallowed, her dry mouth suddenly flooding with saliva. Her heart thrummed in wild accord, threatening to break free the way her limbs couldn’t.

“Where are my dog tags?” she gasped frantically. “I need my dog tags!”

“No, you don’t. You cling to those far too much. Such obsession is a sign of insanity, did you know that?”

Amiel released an irony-rich chuckle. “I’m the insane one? I’d say kidnapping people is a big sign of insanity, myself.”

“I didn’t kidnap you. I liberated you.”

“From what?” she hissed in disbelief. “From my life? My freedom? Happiness? Thanks to your little mini-me, I will never have that again!” Tears stung her eyes and they brimmed, overflowed her lids. Darvey turned toward her with a confused expression.

“You’ve been spending far too much time with the Hybrid.” He shook his head, before pressing a hand to her forehead. “Perhaps you are still a little mad from your fever,” he muttered, noting her sweat-slicked skin. “I had hoped you were over the illness by now.” He shrugged, turning to grab a syringe. “Either way, there will be no more talk of this ‘mini-me’. There is no other version of myself, mini- or full-sized.”

“He was here! He’s hiding behind that curtain!”

Darvey followed her gaze, cautiously approaching the curtain. He yanked it back, revealing a blank wall. Amiel blinked, frantically searching the room. Grim must have slipped out when they were talking. Darvey returned.

“There is no one there. Now stop ranting and hold still.” He jabbed the needle into Amiel’s arm, drawing blood from the vein. She hissed and tried to pull away, though her body suddenly felt weak, drained, and oddly overworked. Her breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps, sweat rolling from her body in copious amounts. Darvey’s fingers slipped from her arm, the sweat making his grip unsure. He frowned, pulling the needle from her arm, gaze fixated on his hand as he rubbed the sweat between his fingertips.

“Curious. Your sweat is very slippery.”

She laughed madly, remembering the time Harley had told her the same thing. He ignored her outburst as he wiped the sweat on a pad of gauze and placed it in a jar on the tray. He held up the syringe of blood, grinning with his own madness at the contents.

“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Her blood shimmered in the clear glass as he tipped it from one side to the other.

“If you wanted me to donate blood, all you had to do was ask,” she groaned sarcastically, her agony spreading. Her body was quickly taking on the sensation of standing in the middle of a fire.

“Witty.” He nodded, placing the blood on the tray before turning toward her. “It’s not the blood I want, but the answers within the blood. You do not know the true treasure that you are, do you?”

Amiel merely squinted up at him, teeth clenched too tightly to speak.

“No, I don’t suppose that you do. Everyone has kept you far too much in the dark, I’m afraid.” He placed a pressure cuff on her arm, writing down her pulse with a clinical detachment.

“Your transformation is well underway, I see. I had hoped it would have been my doing that triggered the change in you, so that I might be able to observe the whole matter from start to finish. I grabbed a sample of Hybrid DNA before I faked my death at Foundation. It was how I escaped with the sample. They meticulously check you for such things before letting you leave. I had to make a plausible way for me to disappear without interference. It also came in handy as a way of getting your Hybrid mutt off my back.” His nose scrunched in disgust.

“I had planned to use that DNA to begin your transformation. I thought surely Harley’s fear would have kept him from making an intimate move toward you, but apparently he didn’t hold your safety as highly in regard as I thought he did.” He grinned malevolently. “Either way, my purposes will be fulfilled. There is still one element missing before the transformation is complete, and that
will
be of my creation,” he crowed proudly.

“What are you talking about?” Amiel forced the words through her clenched teeth, vision blurring.

“There is one other I could have used. But she is too dangerous, unpredictable. She holds not an ounce of empathy, of the control I need to balance the evils held within. You, on the other hand, you are governed by those precious assets. You have very special DNA, from the time of your conception, different than the others: more powerful. Within it is held the key to the greatest weapon.”

“Who is the other?” Amiel asked, forcing her mind to focus. He ignored her.

“Your power remains locked away without the proper keys to open it. It is a safeguard of sorts. But I have the keys that will unlock it, I believe. Keys of DNA, to be exact. Keys that free your blood to fulfill its divine purpose.”

Amiel’s mind spiraled back to Grim’s words:
“You do not understand yet, but
my blood has freed yours.”

“I don’t understand. I am just a normal girl.” She sobbed in confusion and pain.

“Oh, no, you’ve never been a normal girl.”

“The dog tags are the
only
thing that gave me any sort of power.”

“The tags had nothing to do with your power. They served as a bridge of sorts; they triggered your aggression, allowed your true self to rise long enough to protect you. And then they suppressed it until you needed to call it upward once more. They were meant to protect you and yet protect others from you. Interesting, don’t you think?”

“How do you know all of this?” Amiel gasped, the pain within rising to new levels. He leaned close, pushing a piece of her hair from her face.

“Because I helped create you, my dear.”

“Create me? What? I don’t…” She fought against the dizziness assailing her. “How do you know about the dog tags? Where did they come from?” Amiel suddenly threw her head back, a scream of pain issuing from her throat. Darvey drew near, feeling her pulse once more. Amiel’s eyes flew open, the pain of his touch ripping another scream from her throat. Darvey’s eyes met hers and he stumbled away from her, sheer panic on his face.

“No. No! I don’t understand! This shouldn’t be happening yet! You need the blood of a Raider before you begin the final transformation; how is this possible?”

“Mini-me. Grim. He told me he ‘freed my blood’,” Amiel gasped, teeth clenched in pain. “What’s happening to me!”

Darvey’s face paled. “Grim, you say?” He put a hand to his chin, rubbing at it absently. “She never told me…” He stalked toward the door, yanking it wide. “Angel! Come to me now!” Within minutes, a beautiful, clear voice joined Darvey’s in conversation.

“Yes, my master?” she purred seductively.

“Why did you never tell me that Grim looked like me!”

There was a gasp.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Why did you not tell me he was still very much alive? Or did you think that didn’t matter, either?”

“He is dead. I killed him myself; I killed both of them!”

“Well, apparently you did a shoddy job of it, just like everything else you do. Because all these months, I’ve had a rogue Raider running about behind my back, doing deeds in my image. Not only that, but he was in this very building not ten minutes ago, putting
his
DNA in
my
subject!”

Despite Amiel’s current state, she was able to come to one intimidating conclusion: Darvey was not Grim’s master. But if that was the case, then who was?

“I will find him and bring you his eyes!” the woman promised venomously.

“Yes, you do that,” Darvey replied in a condescending tone. He turned his back and strode away, giving Amiel a clear viewpoint of the woman he’d been talking to. A curvaceous, blonde woman with ice-cold eyes stood in the doorway. She was devastatingly gorgeous, though the sheer evil that resided within her gaze ruined any beauty she held.

Their eyes met, and the woman’s malevolence poured off of her. The words didn’t have to be uttered for Amiel to know the woman would have loved to kill her in an instant. And though she didn’t have the tags to summon it, the Hybrid within Amiel rose in a rush, more than eager to reciprocate the woman’s challenge. The tags weren’t needed for Amiel to know the woman was a Raider. She could
smell
it in the air. Inside, Amiel was screaming with confusion. What was happening to her? The woman bared her teeth with a hiss, drawing Darvey’s attention.

“What are you waiting for? Go!”

“You need help.” The woman pointed at Amiel with a curved claw. Darvey shook his head.

“No! I’ll handle this. Find the saboteur!”  Darvey shouted, slamming the door in the blonde’s face. A noise suspiciously like nails slashing across wood sounded from the other side, and Darvey jumped. Eventually satisfied that the woman wasn’t coming in after him, he dug his hands into his hair, striding toward the bed.

“I’m running out of time. I’m losing control around here.” He glanced at Amiel as he grabbed another syringe, filling it with a clear substance. “You’ll have to excuse the state in which you find yourself. I planned to bring you along quietly, win you over with my charms. But from the beginning, you hated me. I wonder now if that didn’t have something to do with the imposter running about that looks like me.”

Distantly, Amiel wondered the same. On a subconscious level, had she connected Grim with Darvey from the beginning? In the past, she had never seen Grim’s face, only the outline of his features in the darkness. But in her youth, in her forgotten memories, the face of Grim was stored away. Maybe her mind, or even perhaps the Hybrid within, had recognized the Grim of her forgotten memories, and connected them with Darvey’s face and tried to warn her. The pain intensified to a new level, and Amiel no longer had leniency of thought.

“The sides were closing in on me. I had to take you earlier than I planned, or
she
would have gotten to you first. Everything advanced earlier than I planned!” Darvey breathed a tired sigh and sank to the bed.

“I was supposed to have time to test your DNA, but, as I said, my time has run out. There is no time for trials.” He rolled up his own sleeve, injecting himself with Amiel’s blood that he had drawn earlier. The beast within Amiel roared in fury. She felt sheer rage over her capture, over having her blood taken and used, tainted. She wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out. Yet something inside was still holding her back, some infuriating barrier. Darvey sighed in rapture, tipping his head back.

“Ah, it burns. But in such a perfect, beautiful way. I’ve been injecting myself with Sia’s serum for months; your blood, combined with that, and I should soon be like you.” He reached out, placing his hand on her leg. “And with your blood, I will hold more power. With both, I can make my creations so much more than they are.”

Amiel wanted to ask what he was talking about, what creations he was referring to. But her mouth was frozen shut in a grimace of pain and fury beyond her control.

“I will be a far better mate for you than that Hybrid mutt,” he assured her without an ounce of doubt. “I did not understand why you wanted him so badly, in the beginning. At first, I was confused, and angry. Why choose him over me? He is so surly, dark, dull and pouty.” Had Amiel not been in the throes of agony and fury from some unnamed battle waging within, she would have smirked, imagining Harley's reaction to that description of himself.

“I was always so accommodating, helpful, and attentive to you in every way a woman should appreciate. Yet it seemed to only repel you.  It wasn't until I heard him mention your intoxicating scent that I realized it was the pheromones at work! You couldn't help but be attracted to the lout, when his pheromones were pouring off of him the way they were as the two of you interacted. So, I decided it was finally time for me to take that final step. Once your blood melds with mine, I will hold the connection you crave. You won’t want to leave.”