Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1

by Amy Cook

  “Hi,” she said with a small smile. His instincts stuttered, noting that something was wrong with that smile. It was dimmed compared to its usual brilliance. His brow drew down in thought, wondering what was going on here. He drew a deeper breath, scenting the air for hints. It only confused him more. Her emotions smelled of a heavy nervous guilt.

  “Ya alright, Thumbelina?” Her eyes glossed slightly, lips wobbling. Something was definitely off. She turned away from his penetrating gaze, facing Cajun.

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re here, that’s where,” Cajun replied oh so helpfully.

  “Care to tell us where ‘here’ is, cupcake?” Harley growled, agitated and concerned. He hated being in the dark. The car pulled to a stop, and Harley’s skin crawled. They were outside of an abandoned warehouse. Charleen was waiting at the door, and Pell was with her.

  “What’s he doin’ here?” His mood seemed to rub off on Amiel, whose emotions tipped the balance to full-on nervous mode. He unconsciously extended a hand, squeezing her knee comfortingly as he reached for the door handle. When they climbed out he reached over, pressing her behind him, out of Pell’s line of sight. Obviously Pell already knew she was here, had seen her climb out of the SUV even. But Harley’s instincts yearned to protect her, and putting her behind him was a natural reaction to that need. Her small hand rested lightly against his back, pressing closer in an instinctive need to shelter herself in the protection he offered.

  “Let’s talk inside,” Cajun offered.

  “Talk now.” Harley didn’t move except to slip into a slightly more protective stance. He distractedly noted Charleen doing the same at Cajun’s side, but he ignored it. Harley could see Cajun battling his own Hybrid’s instincts in the escalating tenseness of the situation. But Harley was currently fighting the same battle, so he didn’t really care.

  “Harley, we need answers. She needs them just as much as we do.” His words resonated with Harley. His eyes shifted to Pell, who offered a nerdy grin, pressing the glasses further up his nose. The dude was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet, scent heavy with excitement. Pell was a good enough guy Harley supposed, as far as dweebs go. But he wasn’t one of them. He eagerly worked for Foundation as one of their scientists, and that made him untrustworthy in Harley’s eyes. Amiel shifted behind him, drawing his attention back to her.

  “He can give us answers?” Her voice was timid as she moved to stand at his side. Cajun offered a kind smile and a nod. She opened her mouth to reply but Harley gently gripped her arm, stopping her.

  “Can he be trusted?” He jerked his head in Pell’s direction. He didn’t want Foundation having anything to do with his charge, and it suddenly felt like they were sniffing at her heels.

  “We can trust him. Can’t we, Pell?” Cajun smirked at the scrawny guy, who offered another toothy grin, head bobbing excitedly.

  “Oh absolutely!” His emotions shouted excitement and nothing else. The little goofball didn’t even have the sense to be nervous about the treacherous ground he was walking. You didn’t keep secrets from Foundation. Hybrids were living on borrowed time, and used to getting the living day lights beat out of them on most of those days. As such, the idea of what Foundation would do to them didn’t faze them, at least not as badly as it should have fazed a pansy scientist.

  So long as Foundation didn’t take an interest in Amiel, everything would be fine. But, if they decided she was an interesting investment for them, they’d make certain that they dug up every scrap of information on her. And Harley had no doubt that if they tortured the guy, he’d spill. Cajun must have sensed his skepticism, because he winked, silently reassuring him that he had something up his sleeve. Harley looked to Amiel, weighing her emotions. He could feel her fear, but also a strong current of hope. She really did need answers as badly as they did. She turned then, looking him in the eye, and the guilt returned to her emotions with such full strength it was nearly staggering.

  “Before I get answers, I need to give some. You told me your secrets, but I haven’t told you mine.” She reached into her shirt, pulling out the dog tags. Pell gasped an oohh and moved to get a closer look. Harley cut his approach off with a hand clasping over his face, holding him at a distance.

  “I black out, and I kill Rabids. I don’t know how I do it, but I think it has something to do with these. I don’t remember a thing that happens during the blackouts. I just sort of wake up and find them all over the ground, dead.”

  “Imferesfing!” Pell mumbled excitedly against Harley’s palm. Amiel shrugged, staring at Harley’s feet, unable to meet his eyes.

  “I don’t expect you to believe me, but it is true. I promise. I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was just so afraid of what it all meant, and how you would react. You’ve always been so kind to me, and looked out for me. I felt like I was betraying you by not telling you…but…” Two tears ran down her cheeks. “I didn’t want to lose your friendship,” she whispered, finally finished. This is what the guilt was from this whole time?

  “I believe ya.” She blinked up at him.

  “You do?”

  “Pop mentioned what the soldier said ‘bout them tags. And I know what y’all can do. I’ve seen it.” Her eyes widened, denial in their depths. “I saw ya take out three Rabids one night, protectin’ that redheaded friend of yours from the diner.”

  “You were there?”

  “Pops was very specific ‘bout keepin’ an eye on ya, kid. I follow ya home most nights, if my job allows.”

  “Oh!” She bit her lip, twisting her hair around her fingers. She was probably more than a little weirded out, knowing she had her very own stalker escort. He didn’t see any reason in trying to hide the truth of the situation anymore though. He didn’t have many secrets left. Her brow scrunched and she looked up with wide eyes.

  “But…but that was months ago,” she gasped. “You’ve known this entire time? And you never said anything?” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “Well now I feel horrible. There I was anxiously demanding answers from you after only a few days, and you’ve been sitting on this for months, patient as can be.”

  “Stop it, Thumbelina,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. Her guilt and those big green puppy dog eyes of hers were making him uncomfortable. “Stop feelin’ guilty. Y’all are settin’ my nerves on end with all them emotions spoutin’ off of ya. Besides, there ain’t nothin’ to feel guilty about. I had my own secrets this whole time too, and I didn’t tell you til y’all had to save my sorry hide. We all got our dog days and cat days, kid.” Cajun snickered in the background, and Amiel’s face lifted in a glossy-eyed, but honest smile.

  “Which one’s worse?” she asked sweetly. Cajun burst out laughing, hard. Harley scowled at him.

  “What?” Amiel’s hand on his arm drew his attention back to her sweet smile, melting his scowl.

  “Thank you for being my friend, Harley. You’re a pretty great guy.” Harley cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck again.

  “Sure. So…you really wanna go along with these knuckle draggers?”

  “If it means finding answers?” She shrugged helplessly. “Harley, I don’t know what happens to me, and I don’t know if I will hurt someone innocent when I black out. Being able to protect myself is great, but I could kill innocent people, even my friends. I need answers.” He wanted to argue that there was no way she could hurt him even if she tried, but the look of desperation on her face was a killer. He sighed and nodded his consent to the plan, even though she didn’t really need it.

  “What now?” Amiel asked, looking around for answers. Pell held up a hand, as though asking permission to speak. Harley had forgotten his hand was still on the guy’s face and quickly released it, wiping his hand on his pants. Pell’s glasses were all fogged up and he squinted against them before taking them off and rubbing them on his shirt. Once they were clean, he turned his attention back to Amiel.

  “Hellooooo. I’m Peeeeell,” he sing-
songed, holding out a hand for her to shake. His hair was short and messy, spiking up at odd angles. Harley had seen the guy working several times, and the tufted hair was due to the fact that the dude grabbed his hair in both fists, clutching it as he thought. Kinda goofy lookin’, but it fit his personality. Amiel smiled cautiously, shaking his hand.

  “Do I know you? You look kind of familiar.” She bit her lip slightly in thought.

  “Nope, can’t say as we’ve ever met before,” Pell disagreed. Amiel startled slightly as the geek slapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation.

  “I am so excited about this, you have no idea! I mean, I really don’t know what’s going on or anything, but gobstoppers and holly hawks, I’ve wanted to do a covert mission since I started working there! I kept thinking ‘Be patient, Pell, do your work, Pell, they’ll notice you eventually, Pell. You’ll get to move up and do the fun stuff.’ Evvvvveryone kept saying I was a fool, that Foundation would never pick me for an important mission. Well! Who’s laughing now, eh?” He grinned at Amiel. “It’s me,” he whispered conspiratorially. Amiel humored him with a slightly confused but gentle giggle. Harley looked at Cajun, not entertained in the least. Cajun just shot him a crooked smirk.

  “Ace! Let’s move this rage inside then, yeah?” Cajun suggested. Pell eagerly nodded, grasped Amiel’s hand, wrapped it around his forearm and dragged her along as he hot-footed for the warehouse door. Instantly he was chatting her ear off about promotions and how he was an undercover ninja or some dumb bunk. Amiel listened politely, sending Harley a small smile as they walked. Charleen approached then and leaned over to sniff Cajun’s shoulder, eyebrow rising. Cajun shrugged, offering an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, love. The bird’s like an aromatherapy candle.” He winked, sending her a mischievous grin. “But that just gives us an excuse to work extra hard on getting your scent back. All. Over. Me.” Charleen rolled her eyes, but the smile she gave in return left no doubt in Harley’s mind what would be happening later. He made a mental note to stay far away from Cajun and their room for the rest of the day. Amiel and Pell disappeared inside the warehouse leaving Harley buzzing with nervous energy. He moved to follow, calling over his shoulder.

  “Y’all better know what you’re doin, Caj.” Cajun ran to catch up with him, Charleen in tow.

  “It’ll be fine, Harl.” Slapping Harley on the back reassuringly he leaned closer. “I told Pell that this is a top secret black ops mission for Foundation. One that doesn’t exist outside the top ring leaders, and isn’t to be discussed in any aspect, even under duress. And that’s because there’s at least two moles inside Foundation, and it could be anyone. Amiel is a high priority agent that was captured and tested on in some sort of freakishly devious way. In Antarctica. She doesn’t remember a thing, or know what is happening to her now.” He leaned back with a proud grin. “That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.”

  “Antarctica?” Harley asked doubtfully. Cajun shrugged.

  “It was the first thing that came to my mind.”

  “He actually fell for that?” Harley grumbled.

  “Of course he did! This is me we’re talking about here mate. Give your brother a little faith.” Harley rolled his eyes, but he had to admit he was a little impressed that Cajun had managed to charm such a ridiculous story onto someone. “Plus I promised him if he ever caved and told anyone, I would personally deliver his immense collection of granny porn to his mum, and tell her that he was under investigation for some sort of heinous crime.” Harley’s face scrunched in disgust.

  “Granny porn? That’s disgusting. And how exactly do you know this.”

  “Trust me brother, you don’t even want to know.” Harley was sure that was true. They walked inside to see Amiel leaning against the edge of a long folding table. Pell was sitting on a folding chair, tapping away on a laptop and spreading out a bunch of medical and technical instruments.

  “So then I told her, ‘What? It’s a cow, and I’m a man with needs. And then she said-” He jumped as Harley’s large hand slapped down on his shoulder. Looking up at him, he pushed up his glasses, scrunching his nose. “Oh, hello. We were just talking about my time backpacking in Europe. I’d been mugged along the way, so I had no money. As such I had to steal a place to sleep in a farmer’s barn, and his wife caught me trying to milk their cow. It was late, I was tired and really thirsty. Backpacking is hard work you know. And something else that’s hard work? Milking a cow! You would not believe how hard it is to actually milk a cow! There’s a special way you’ve got to do it.” He held up his hands to demonstrate, then trailed off under Harley’s stern expression. “You don’t care, do you?” Harley shook his head. “Well! We need to get started anyways. Can’t be sitting around listening to me jabber all day, now can we?” He moved to stand, but Harley’s firm grip kept him plastered to his seat.

  “Listen, powder puff. We are going to have a very serious conversation now, so listen carefully.” Pell nodded eagerly, pressing his glasses up again. “I’ve been put specifically in charge of her protection. And you and I both know just how seriously I take my obligations. Yes?” Pell nodded again.

  “Oh yes! Your portfolio is most impressive! I especially enjoyed the time-” Harley interrupted, neither eager to hear more of Pell’s babbling, or for him to tell Amiel about some of his more gruesome jobs.

  “We are here for answers only. Y’all hurt her, I hurt you. Got it?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Gotcha.” Harley released him and the nerd quickly bounded to his feet. Rubbing his hands together again, he walked back and forth. “Now, Miss Amiel, I understand you had a situation last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am going to need to know everything that happened.”

  “I can’t remember,” she reminded him.

  “Oh! Yes, of course, where is my brain. More importantly, where is yours! But that’s what we are here for after all, isn’t it.”

  “Focus,” Harley growled a low reminder.

  “Yes, yes! Focus! Cajun, you were there?”

  “Yep. There had been concern about her protection, so I was following her home to ensure she arrived safely.” Cajun fudged over the truth to fit both stories. He held up his hands, moving into full storyteller mode. “Out of nowhere Rabids zone in on us! The little bird flipped around with her motorcycle, facing the oncoming pack. I tried to get her to leave, but she refused. She kept shouting at me to go, that she’d give me a head start. She was trying to protect me, the little nutcase.” He laughed at Amiel, who was turning a lovely shade of pink under their combined scrutiny. “That’s about the time her eyes went all wonka.”

  “Wonka how exactly? Cross-eyed?” Pell asked, hand on his chin in thought.

  “No, no, nothing like that. You know how our eyes get really dilated when we rely heavily on our instincts? Her eyes dilated too, but the edges shot out in all these wonky complicated patterns. Like crosshatching in embroidery, I guess.”

  “You’re such a girl,” Harley snickered. Cajun shrugged innocently.

  “Mum liked to embroider. It’s not my fault I picked up some of the lingo along the way.” Cajun ignored Harley’s humorous sneer, continuing with his story.

  “So, her eyes go all wonka, yeah? She’s sweating, bent over like she’s in a lot of pain. And then she takes off flying down the road like a bunyip from hell.”

  “A what?” Amiel asked, clearly unsure how she felt about that description.

  “Bunyips- mythological creatures from Australia. I swear I saw one when I was fifteen. Me mum used to scare me with stories about them when I was a kid, but I never believed it until I saw it with me own eyes.”

  “It was his own reflection,” Harley quipped. Again Cajun ignored him.

  “So I jump out of the car, yeah? A few feet away from the Rabids, she jumps off the bike, sending it skidding sideways into the lot of them.” Harley partially tuned Cajun out when Amiel grabbed his hand. She winced, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to hi
m. He squeezed her hand back letting her know he wasn’t worried about it. Paint jobs weren’t an issue.

  “She yanks off the helmet, plops down right there on the ground, arms wide, screaming like a banshee. It was all very dramatic, like something you’d see in a movie. A creepy movie,” he amended. “Sorry, bird, but it’s true. Anyways, she jumps up, yanks a gun out and starts mowing down the Rabids with only a .45 and a helmet. Never seen a thing like it! Not an ounce of fear in her. It was really quite fanfreakintastic to watch.” His grin was so large it was in danger of splitting his face. “Oh, and then after that she kind of had a little standoff with me.” Charleen tensed, eyes shifting to land on Amiel with intensity. Cajun didn’t seem to notice, but Harley did. He kept a wary eye on Charleen, ready to intervene if her darkness decided to come out to play.

  “She didn’t try to attack me, just sat there ready for a fight. When I didn’t attack her, she just dropped her weapons and collapsed. Out cold.” Cajun finished on a big breath.

  “Crosshatching. Screaming. Killing. Unconsciousness. Intriguing. Quite intriguing,” Pell muttered, pacing up and down, grabbing at his hair in that weird two handed fist thing he liked to do. He stopped in front of Amiel.

  “Tell me about the tags.”

  “They were my brother’s. He was a soldier in the Rabid wars. He died of some weird sort of poison that destroyed all of his muscles.” Harley looked to Cajun, knowing that with that one sentence Amiel had just blown their cover story. Pell, however, gave absolutely no reaction, his emotions staying steady and strong. Not even a blip of surprise.