Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (46 page)

Harley

Harley and Cajun stared at Amiel as she moved to walk circles around the stranger. Cajun leaned closer to whisper, though he didn’t take his eyes off the spectacle before them.

“Dude… your woman has alien eyes.”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t have those before, right?”

Harley pulled his eyes away from his mate to give his brother an annoyed glare.

“Didn’t think so.” Cajun shook his head. “And the fangs? I'm pretty sure I'd remember the fangs. Did I forget the fangs? My brain is pretty screwed up, but I don’t think it’s that bad. Tell me it’s not that bad,” Cajun begged. Harley’s mind flashed back to all of the kissing he and Amiel had done over the last few days.

“No. Definitely no fangs.” He sniffed the air. “She smells different, too.” His eyes zeroed in on her neck. “And the tattoo’s gone,” he whispered in shock. That tattoo should have had another week of life, at least. What had happened to it? They stopped talking as Amiel suddenly turned, walking toward them. Harley’s surprise grew at the implications of her actions. She’d turned her back on the man, showing either her trust or her lack of concern for his ability to be dangerous. Considering the guy had just toasted a bunch of Rabids without getting near them, Harley would say he had his fair share of danger. That meant, for whatever reason, Amiel trusted the guy.

Harley stopped thinking then as Amiel neared. His Hybrid stood perfectly still in his mind, drinking in every detail. She stood staring up at him with those big black eyes, the inky substance leaking down her cheeks in thin rivulets, fangs peeking over the edges of her lips.

And then she smiled, and his world went to pieces. He exploded inside. Every pent-up fear, all of his anger, every ounce of love he felt for this tiny girl in front of him, it all blew up in his face. He reached out and snapped her up into his arms, pressing her to his body as if he could meld her to his very soul. He had his hellcat back. She might look a little… different, but she was still his Amiel.

“I thought I lost ya, kid,” he whispered, holding her close. He was so far gone, he didn’t even care when tears burned his eyes, threatening to spill over the brims. His Hybrid slammed its will against his, but Harley didn’t have to be forced. He was entirely in line with what his Hybrid wanted. One arm still holding her up, the other clasped the back of her neck as he slanted his lips over hers.

He poured every ounce of what he was made of into that kiss. His tongue slid slowly along the length of one long fang, and a growl of pleasure sounded heavily in the air, though he wasn’t sure if it was from him or Amiel. Her arms wrapped around him, fingers sinking into his hair. She gripped it, yanking just enough to entice. She pulled back, offered a devilish grin, then leaned in and licked his scruff. Literally licked his scruff, from chin to ear. Harley’s eyes flew wide, and Cajun choked.

“Ooookay. Taking a step back from the National Geographic, here,” Cajun muttered, stumbling toward the stranger. “It’s about time someone asked this, and since other people are clearly not going to, I’m left to it. Who, exactly, are you?”

Harley had honestly forgotten the guy was even there. The kid made a mess of him… and he still didn’t care. All that mattered was her, in his arms, smiling that beautiful, fanged smile.

“There’s no time for that now. We’ve wasted enough already. Do you have her dog tags?”

Harley’s attention immediately shifted to the stranger, protective instinct flaring to life. He let Amiel slide to the ground, moving to place his body in front of hers.

“How do ya know about that?”

“Do you have them or not?” When Harley didn’t reply, the man sighed in frustration. “Foundation is closing in on us on all sides. There will be no escaping. And if the Director sees Amiel like
that
, she will stop at nothing until she has that power fully grasped in her control. Aside from that, Amiel is too new to it. That side can easily overtake her, change her. The tags are the only thing that can save her now: from Foundation, and from herself.”

Harley stared at the man, weighing what he felt in the man’s intentions. Which wasn’t much. The guy had a way about him that seemed to mask the senses. What Harley did feel, however, was not threatening.

“How do I know this ain’t gonna damage her? The tags ain’t exactly risk-free.”

“You don’t have to know, because I do,” the man stated firmly. “And I know, because I am the one that created them. Now, do you have them or not?” A beeping sound suddenly emitted from the man, and he glanced at his wrist. The alarm silenced, and the man went still.

“You’re out of time. Save the world and the woman you love, or give her to the wolves. The choice is yours.”

Sounds from down the corridor floated toward Harley’s ears, and he tensed. Foundation. The man wasn’t lying about that, at least. His hands dove into his jean pockets, producing the tags. He stared down at them. A small, delicate, blood-covered hand suddenly covered his. He closed his eyes.

“Tell me what to do, kid.” The tags lifted from his hands, and he opened his eyes to see her holding the links out to him.

“I will fight to the top for you,” she stated firmly, eyes burning with promise. Instantly, he knew what she meant. She was ready to take on Foundation, and she was determined to fight her way through every Hybrid to be his LeaderMate. It was her choice to make, and she had made it.

“Hellcat,” he whispered with a sad smile, as his fingers went under her hair to attach the necklace. The second the clasp on the chain clicked into place, she went limp in his arms, smile disappearing as her body went slack. The fangs disappeared just as quickly, slipping upward to hide behind her lips once more. Immediately, the man in the robe moved forward.

“Quickly, you only have a few moments; wipe her down.” He dumped a bottle of water on a rag and tossed it to Harley. Harley set to scrubbing the black from her face. Cajun moved to stand by the man, eyeing him with interest. The man pretended not to notice, eyes nervously shifting toward the room’s entrance.  Cajun suddenly reached out, lifting the man’s sleeve. Harley’s eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of the man’s arms as he lifted Amiel into his own. A tattoo with a bird rising from flames marked the guy’s wrist, right above a shiny nozzle-object strapped there. Cajun’s eyes widened with giddy interest.

“Are those flame throwers?”

The man jiggled the weapons as if to say, “
obviously
.” Cajun shook his head in awe. “And that actually works?” The nozzle shifted directly at his brother, and Harley tensed.

“If someone was throwing a stream of fire at your face, wouldn't you back off?” the man stated bluntly.

“Point taken.” Cajun nodded quickly.

“I have to go. They can’t find me. I will be in contact.” The man turned and quickly melted into the shadows. Cajun watched him go, face still etched with that boyish awe. The awe turned into his usual fool grin as he turned to Harley.

“I've got to get me some of those.”

“Charleen would ground ya from ’em before the day was out,” Harley grumbled, as they turned to face their fate.

“Yeah… but boy, would it be fun while it lasted!” 

Harley battened down the hatches of his heart, holding Amiel closer. She was alive and in his arms. The place he was determined to keep her for the rest of his life, if possible. Together they would face the world and all the horrors it had to offer. Including the horror that was traipsing ever nearer them from down the corridor.

Suddenly he and Cajun both groaned out in pain. Pain shot up Harley’s spine, electrical impulses slamming into his brain. Cajun gasped, falling to his knees, hands gripping his head. Harley fought to maintain his feet, mindful of the precious cargo in his arms. The pain level rose: once, twice. Three saw his knees buckling despite his resolve. He tried to keep Amiel from being hurt in the fall, his body crumpling forward over top of hers in a pathetic effort to shield her.

“Well. That was a bit overly dramatic; do you not think so, Hybrid?”

Harley froze as the cold tone of Malinda Hilden reached his ears over the pain in his body. Slowly, Harley’s eyes shifted to take in the situation. All around them stood Foundation guards, guns pointed and ready. One look at his brother confirmed their shared assessment. They were completely screwed. Malinda strode closer, leaning over him.

“Release the girl.” She spoke with the sugary sweet tone that always drove Harley up the wall. He gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to move. He knew there was no choice, knew in the end Foundation would have her. Yet, somehow, he couldn’t force himself to simply hand her over. Malinda tsked. Straightening, she motioned toward two guards. They approached, kicking him in the gut, over and over, trying to make him let go. Harley hovered on the edge of consciousness before they finally pried the kid from his arms. Malinda strode toward Amiel, a look of power and malevolence in her eyes.

“That’s better.” She crouched down, her smile twisting into a vindictive sneer. “Oh, Amiel. What a mess you’ve made.” Malinda tsked. “But it is no matter now. You’ll be so much more useful to me this way.” She snapped her fingers, motioning toward the guards. “Take her.”

“Yes, Director!” The guard shouted, quickly moving to grab Amiel and toss her over his shoulder. Harley’s Hybrid roared with muted fury. Yet neither of them could do a thing while Harley was crippled by the implant in his head.

“I claim her as my LeaderMate.” Harley forced the words through his clenched teeth. He might not be able to physically save her right now, but his claim could save her a lot of torment once inside Foundation. The Director looked over her shoulder with a smug sneer that sent his hackles rising.

“We shall see about that, Hybrid. My daughter never has and never will have the choice of who she marries. That hasn’t changed just because she inherited some usefulness.” She motioned toward the guards once more. “Once back at Foundation, toss the Hybrids in Isolation for a few days to remind them who they belong to.”

Harley watched in desperation as Amiel was carried in the opposite direction. Suddenly, a whole lot of stuff clicked together to make one giant, ugly puzzle. Amiel was Malinda Hilden’s daughter. The poor kid had been screwed from birth. 

Amiel

Amiel woke slowly. She winced as she pried her eyes open, the light piercing them with unfamiliar intensity. Her teeth hurt, her eyes hurt, her entire body hurt. Groaning, she tried to rub the ache away from her temples. But her arms wouldn’t move. She tried again, groggy mind sharpening to awareness. She was tied down. Immediately, memories of being tied down to a grimy mattress came back to her, memories of the entire ordeal with Darvey and Grim. What was happening now? Had they somehow managed to recapture her? Had that all been a dream, and she’d be forced to relive it now?

Her memories finally came into focus along with her vision. They trickled back, ending with the memories of what she’d promised Harley. This must be Foundation. She steeled herself. She was in the big games now. If she were going to fight to win Harley, she couldn’t show weakness. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose, fighting to stay cool and collected. A door slid open in the distance, and she slowly opened her eyes. She wasn’t ready for what she saw — or, more appropriately,
who
she saw.

“Finally awake, I see.”

Amiel flinched at Malinda’s chiding tone. “Mother?” Amiel asked, confused. “Where am I? What’s happening?”

“You’re confined at Foundation.”

“What are
you
doing here?”

Malinda’s brow rose. “I own Foundation.”

She might as well have kicked Amiel in the stomach. This did not bode well for her. The way Malinda was grinning down at her, the way her body was tied, it all led to an ever-increasing feeling of dread in Amiel’s stomach. She couldn’t help thinking back to the last conversation they had had. The promise of revenge Malinda had made. Jeller’s face flashed through her mind. Was she next?

“You… you own Foundation?”

“Of course, stupid child.” Malinda sneered down at Amiel.

“Why am I tied down?”

“I always knew you would serve my purposes in one way or another. I was determined of it. It turns out I was just trying the wrong direction. Having you as my personal weapon will be much easier than marrying you off.” Her lips stretched into a smile that matched the malevolence in her cold eyes. “For once in my life, I can’t say that I’m entirely disappointed in you, Amiel. You’ll be far more useful to my plans now.”

“Weapon?”

“Oh, yes. I have yet to personally see what you can do, but I have no doubt that it will be awe-inspiring in the right hands.”

“I can’t do anything,” Amiel hedged.

“Oh, but you can. You know that as well as I.”

Amiel’s mind flashed back to the dreamlike memories of what she’d done in the warehouse, and she felt her stomach bottom out. That power, in Malinda’s hands?

“What makes you think I have any power?”

“I have my methods. My spies. Employees that are uniquely attached to their knowledge of you.” She leaned over Amiel, a hand on each side of the table, darkness in her gaze. “Did you really think that you could have so much access to my employees and equipment, without my noticing?”

Amiel’s eyes widened, fear lacing her heart. Pell!

“What did you do?” Her hands shook as she clenched them in their restraints.

“Oh, hush, don’t be so dramatic. He’s fine. He’s too useful to kill. For now.” Malevolence brewed in Malinda’s gaze as she pushed away from the table. “He was surprisingly loyal, however. It took more force than I imagined it would, to make him talk. So you will excuse me if I don’t let you see him again. That much loyalty can’t be trusted.”

Amiel swallowed hard, forcing her anger aside as Malinda continued her rant.

“He was a veritable well of knowledge, that one. He told me all about your genetic makeup, how you were born with it in your blood. That it did not trigger mutation and manifest itself until you were of age.”

Amiel fought to keep the surprise from her face. Maybe Pell had told her of her DNA, but he hadn’t told her about the tags’ involvement. The tags were safe, for now.

“You would use your own daughter as a weapon?”

“In a heartbeat,” she hissed.

“How can you be so cold and cruel? I have never for a moment in my life felt that you loved me.”

“That is because I never did,” Malinda replied honestly. “I never once felt that you were my child.”

“What did I do to make you despise me so?” Amiel hated the confused, plaintive tone that had seeped into her voice, like she was a faithful dog just kicked in the gut by its owner. She’d always known Malinda disliked her. Yet, somehow, hearing the actual words made the reality that much more painful. Malinda’s eyes shifted, taking on a distant look of remembrance.

“Your father and I had a difficult time conceiving. The doctors said it was my fault.
My
fault,” she scoffed with self-disgust. “It took us years of in vitro fertilization to conceive Jaron. But he was
mine
.” Her voice was a mixture of pride and something Amiel had never heard in her mother’s voice:
love
.

“You loved him,” Amiel whispered in wonder.

“Of course I loved him!” Malinda snapped, the anomaly of surprising love gone, quickly replaced with fury. Amiel felt her own rising to match it.

“Then why did you never visit him in the hospital? Why did you let him think you hated him, even until he died?”

“Why do you think?
You
were always there. Always! Even before he left on his fool’s errand to join the military. And when you weren’t around, he was talking about you, admonishing me for my treatment of you, or admiring an accomplishment you’d made. It was the same with your father. The two fools were besotted with you, and I couldn’t stand it.
You
made me hate them.”

“Why? Why do you hate me so much?” Amiel choked out.

“After Jaron, your father refused to try for more children. He said it would be a travesty to bring more innocent souls into such a world, rampant with infection as it was. Imagine my excitement and surprise when, years later, Warwick told me he wanted to try again. I wanted another child to call my own, so badly. I was such a fool!” She cursed malevolently. “Had I known I would conceive a monster, I would have refused.” Her face twisted into a mask of disgust.

“I should have known then. I should have known that you were a monster. What had taken us years to accomplish with Jaron took only one try with you. My pregnancy was nothing like it had been with Jaron. I was sick constantly, always in agony. It was like you were a vampiric being, sucking the very life essence out of me. The doctors told me it was all in my head. But pain doesn’t lie.” Her eyes glittered darkly.

“When you were born, you had to be ripped from my stomach, leaving me with an ugly daily reminder of your existence on my skin. And when I first held you in my arms, you stared up at me with those big eyes. I should have felt a mother’s love, devotion even, for the little life I fought so hard to bring into this world. Instead, I was disgusted. I saw only a monster, with one brown eye and one green.” At Amiel’s startled expression, Malinda offered a dry laugh.

“Oh, yes: one green, one brown. It was just an outward manifestation of your monstrosity. Warwick had you undergo a Stroma surgical procedure on the brown eye, in an effort to conceal your differences from the world. It shifted the coloring so that it matched the other green, but that mattered nothing to me. I had already seen the truth behind those eyes.” She waved her hand in the air, as though to swat the matter aside.

“The moment I met your gaze, I made the nurses take you away. Warwick and Jaron had to hold you, change you, feed you. I couldn’t stomach the sight of you. No amount of surgeries could have changed that.”

Amiel cringed, tears welling at the sheer repugnance in her mother’s tone. Though she had known Malinda’s dislike for her, she had never known the true depth of hatred Malinda felt toward her, until now. And though Amiel had as much as disowned herself from the family in disgust for the atrocities committed by Malinda, it didn’t change the fact that the woman was still her mother. And as much as she wanted to hate her, to not feel an ounce of pain at what Malinda said, it simply wasn’t possible.

“In a twisted way, this little revelation makes my heart lighter.” Malinda stared down at Amiel with an odd sort of fascination. Her hand gripped Amiel’s hair, yanking her head back to look deeper into her eyes. “Yes. I understand now.” Her voice turned quiet, contemplative. “I used to lay awake at night, praying that you would be taken, your last breath drawn in the middle of the night. I wanted nothing more than to be free of you. And yet, I was filled with such conflicting guilt over even thinking such a thing. What kind of mother wishes death upon their child? Especially one they had so longed for. What kind of mother looks in her child’s eyes and sees only a monster? What crazed ailment bore down on me, to make me so hateful toward something so innocent?”

Amiel shivered at the emptiness in her mother’s gaze.

“Warwick told me it was because I suffered from postpartum depression. That perhaps it was the letdown after all the yearning I had felt over becoming pregnant again, knowing you would be the last child I would ever have. That it was the knowing that I had finally realized my dream, but didn’t know what to do with myself next. Or perhaps it was from the fact that you were a three-parent baby.” Malinda shrugged.

“I didn’t know the answers myself, back then. But I know now. From the moment you were conceived, I knew you were something different, something so very wrong.  When I look into your eyes now, I can see it so easily. I think I could see it then, too; I just didn’t understand what it was. I didn’t understand that there really was a monster lurking behind your gaze.” She released Amiel’s hair with a painful jerk, face soured with disgust. Amiel swallowed the cry of pain, focusing on the words Malinda had spoken, instead.

“A three-parent baby?”

“From the very start, you were a little science experiment,” Malinda quipped patronizingly. “Warwick shifted his attention to fertility treatments, during the first years of our marriage when we couldn’t conceive. He began dabbling in the arts of creation, searching for a better means of conception for those who were infertile. After Jaron was born, I thought his fascination with the subject had been satisfied. I was wrong.” Her fingers lifted to toy with the straps that held Amiel immobile.

“When we decided to try again, he approached me with the idea of a three-parent baby. It’s a procedure in which the genetics of three people are merged into one to form a child. It is meant to take out the undesirable portions of one egg, the portions that lead to a genetically deficient embryo. The deficient portion is substituted with another, bringing a healthy child into the world. I trusted Warwick, believed the doctors when they told me that I was lacking, unable to bear a healthy child on my own. And in my eagerness for another baby, I agreed to the procedure. I bore the embarrassment of having another woman’s DNA intermingled with mine and my husband’s, simply to bring you into existence. ” She grabbed up a folder from the metal tray by the table on which Amiel was strapped. She pulled out a single paper from within the folder, waving it before Amiel’s face.

“I never knew her name. Not until today, when I uncovered these files. Would you like to know your monster mother?”

Amiel stared at the paper, wrapped in shock as her eyes caught on one name.

“Sia.” The word came out in a choked sort of whisper. Her eyes lifted to seek out Malinda’s, looking for some hint of humor, anything that would give away the joke. She found none. “You are telling me that… Charleen’s mother is also mine?” The implications were staggering.

“This paper gives my soul such freeing solace. Finally, I can hate you freely, without feeling the hideous guilt lurking at the edges. My hatred for you has been well founded all these years. It wasn’t just the rantings of a hormonally unstable woman, a woman who suffered from depression and wished horrible things on the child she birthed. It was the justified fears of a woman forced to carry a monster into existence. I am vindicated!” Malinda released a strangled chuckle, a sound of crazed relief. Leaning near, she gripped Amiel’s jaw so that she had no choice but to meet her gaze.

“And now that I have you, monster, I am going to make your life miserable. I am going to make you wish that you had died in your crib. You are going to make up for the years of soulful torture you cost me. You are going to do everything I tell you, make my every wish come true.” Her eyes brightened with a devious internal joy.

“Oh, and since sedation will not work on you, I am afraid you are going to feel every single second of this.” Straightening, Malinda turned to the doctors.

“Begin.” It was a simple word. And yet that simple word felt like the final nail in Amiel’s coffin. Malinda walked out of the room, leaving her last living child to the whims of those around her in lab coats. Amiel’s eyes widened with fear as the table rose, shifting to stand upright. From this new vantage point, Amiel could see that there was one window in this small, sterile room. Malinda stood there, watching through the clear glass panel, a chilled grin on her lips.

“Please,” Amiel whispered desperately. “Please don’t do this to me, Mother!” A nurse came forward, strapping her head to the table so tightly she couldn’t move an inch. Amiel whimpered as a gag was shoved deep into her mouth. She jerked against the straps holding her to the table as the sound of a saw whirled to life at her back. She delved deep into her subconscious, desperately digging in search of her Hybrid.