Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1

by Amy Cook

  “So!” Pell clapped his hands together. “The next experiment I have planned is a bit…extreme.” His eyes shifted to glance at Harley out of the corner of his eye. “But necessary! However, as it is a bit extreme, I won’t just spring it on you the way I did with that slap. Sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized to Amiel, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

  “It’s alright. I’d prefer you didn’t do it again, though,” she stated aristocratically. Harley snorted, and Pell nodded emphatically.

  “Definitely not, my lady.” He did that lame exaggerated bow again.

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “Charleen was kind enough to round up a few stray Rabids after Cajun called me this morning.” He glanced at Harley, who glanced at his brother and his fiancé. Charleen was unrepentant as usual, but Cajun sported that ‘sorry, but it’s gotta be done’ grin of his.

  “You’re going to throw Rabids at her?” Harley growled. “I thought the whole point of this was to figure out how to make it stop, not to toss her in the middle of it?”

  “That is the point, my friend,” Pell eagerly agreed.

  “Friend?” Harley frowned.

  “Well of course.” Pell looked at him confused for a moment, before continuing right on with his little speech. Harley’s brow rose and Amiel covered her grin with a hand. Harley wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He suddenly seemed to be gaining friends left and right, whether he wanted them or not. Pell was still talking, not noticing Harley’s expression.

  “The goal is to get her out of these dangerous situations, yes. But first we have to learn as much about what’s happening to her as we can. Then we can make the best decision in regards as to how to make her safe. We need to understand how these tags work, Harley.”

  “And we need to understand more about who made them and what their purposes for doing it were,” Charleen interjected sternly.

  “What if the tags don’t react the same way? What if by willingly puttin’ herself in a situation the tags won’t react the same, won’t protect her? You’re willin’ to take that chance for these answers?” Harley asked, grasping for straws. Sure, he’d enjoyed watching her fight that first night. But now that he knew her better, now that he was her friend, the idea worried him. “Besides, every time she fights, she’s puttin’ herself at risk for infection. She’s been insanely lucky so far to get away without infection. Now we’re just temptin’ fate.”

  “It’s going to happen again eventually, whether we want it to or not, Harl,” Cajun interjected. “At least this time she’ll have us here to back her up. We’ll cover up as much of her skin as we can, and we can pull her out if things get too hairy.”

  “Ah! One moment!” Pell held up a hand and ran out the warehouse door. When he returned he was holding a bicycle helmet. “She can wear this to protect her head. It’s saved my noggin a few times.”

  “Are you particularly fond of that helmet, Einstein?” Cajun asked.

  “Einstein? Hardly. His hair was much better behaved than mine.” Pell snorted, laughing at his own joke. “It’s been a good helmet for me, but I can always get a new one if this one gets too messy.” Cajun smirked, but said nothing. Harley turned to Amiel.

  “It’s up to you, Thumbelina. How far are ya willin’ to take this circus?” Harley asked, looking earnestly into her eyes.

  “I’m not going to lie and say the idea of facing Rabids intentionally doesn’t scare me. I’ve always done my best to avoid them when I feel them coming. Before last night,” she said, glancing toward Cajun. “But sometimes you have to do what you have to do. And if this brings me one step closer to finding my answers, then I have to do it.” She smiled, landing a fake punch on his arm. “Besides, it’s like Cajun said. I have you guys to back me up.”

  His instincts were rebelling, his Hybrid snapping at him to stop her from going through with this. They protected their own. They didn’t toss them to the lions. Her emeralds drew him in, pleading and consoling at once. Her small hand wrapped around his elbow, and even through his leather he could feel her touch as though it were on his naked skin.

  “I’ll be fine, Harley. I’ve made it this far, right?” His jaw clenched. Could he let her do this? He wanted to think he wouldn’t pull any macho caveman antics that women were always complaining about, but his insides were clawing at him. He took one look in her eyes and knew his answer. His fingers found the tab of her zipper, fastened it and slowly zipped it to her neck. Reaching into his own jacket he pulled out his aviators. Her smile was bright, eyes wide with happy surprise as he slipped them carefully up her nose.

  “Wear these. Cheatin’ Rabids like to spit in the eyes to infect ya.” Her lips parted slightly, and he could feel her emotions swinging toward confusion and nervous energy. Probably thanking her lucky stars it hadn’t already happened to her in the past. He knew he was. He grabbed a lock of her hair, feeling the soft strands between his thumb and fingers. He gave it a couple of light tugs. “Slightest slip up and I’m gonna be in there savin’ that little butt. Screw the experiments.” He tucked the hair behind her ear before pressing his glasses a little further up her nose. “And don’t break my shades.”

  “If I do, I’ll just buy you a new pair at the Gap.” She smirked saucily at him, revealing a little dimple in her left cheek that he’d never noticed before. He swallowed hard as his Hybrid leapt to the forefront of his mind, eager to show that dimple some attention. Her left brow lifted over the frame of his aviators, likely noting the way his eyes had dilated. Not only that, but the traitorous glasses were no doubt showing her all the chemical reactions he’d just had to her. He cleared his throat, stepping back and averting his eyes.

  “Got your gun?” She nodded. “Got ammo?” She nodded again. “Good. Let’s get this over with then,” he growled at Pell, making the guy jump slightly before smiling cheesily.

  “Right! Like I said, Charleen coaxed a few Rabids in here early this morning, trapping them in a couple of rooms at the back.” Cajun grinned luridly at Charleen, and from the little squeak and jump she made, Harley assumed he’d pinched her backside, too. That was his brother. Sometimes it was embarrassing taking those two anywhere. Harley shook his head, then rolled his eyes at Amiel who was currently trying to hide a smirk behind her hand. She snickered harder, and he couldn’t help smiling back. She really was cute in his glasses. Pell was completely oblivious to it all as usual, going on about the plan at hand.

  “When she releases them, they will smell us and come directly here. I imagine they may be a bit…frustrated at having been trapped for so long. So you’ll have your work cut out for you.” Amiel nodded solidly, hands clenching at her sides. Pell popped his dorky helmet down on top of her head, fussing with the straps until they fit her snuggly. He stood back, beaming proudly with his work.

  “There! That’ll do nicely.” Amiel pulled the glasses down enough to bat her lashes at Harley when Pell turned his back. Pursing her lips she struck a ridiculous pose. She obviously knew how embarrassingly goofy she looked in the helmet and was playing it off. But Harley could have groaned. Even looking like a total doofus, the girl managed to be cute. Sighing he grabbed her arms, turned her around and steered her toward the middle of the warehouse.

  “Now, to ensure the brunt of the attack is on Amiel, and not us, we are going to be in this control room over there. We can’t mess with the experiment or we won’t get accurate readings.” Pell pointed to a little box of a room about fifteen feet away.

  “In there?” Cajun asked, nose crinkled, emotions giving off the same feelings that Harley was experiencing about this idea.

  “Oh yes. Don’t worry, my monitors should have no problems recording all the data there. I checked them earlier.”

  “Good, that’s exactly what I was worried about. Hope everyone wore deodorant today,” Cajun mumbled before turning to Charleen. “Why don’t you let me get them this time. You already took risks getting them here by yourself this mor
ning.” Charleen smirked.

  “You know I’m a faster runner than you.”

  “It’s a good thing I like the chase then, isn’t it.” Cajun leered, grabbing her up and making a big sloppy display of kissing her, before slapping her butt and sending her on her way to fetch the Rabids. Harley sighed loudly. Those two were ridiculous with their PDA.

  “Charleen!” Amiel called after the girl. Charleen froze. Turning warily, she eyed Amiel as though she were a strange new animal she’d never encountered before. Amiel took several steps closer, and Harley shadowed her, standing stiffly at her back, hoping Charleen didn’t cause a fuss. She’d learned how to quell her urges to rip into every random person that looked at her, but she would always have that aggressive streak in her system. She would always have the calculating instinct for survival. She’d always have the absence of empathy toward those she didn’t feel loyal to. She’d been born that way.

  “Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to. You don’t even know me. But you’ve taken risks for me anyways, and I just wanted you to know that I recognize that and appreciate it.” Amiel’s emotions and words rang clearly, honest appreciation thick to the core of the statement. Charleen’s eyes narrowed slightly, her stance still wary. Harley could feel Cajun edging closer, sensing a very likely confrontation.

  “I love Cajun. He loves his brother, which makes his brother my family. And if his brother likes you so much, then I guess you might as well be family, too. Now shut up, I’m working.” Harley stared in shock as Charleen melted into the shadows. Charleen’s words may have been gruff, but coming from her, they might as well have been a big warm hug. She hadn’t turned her back when she left, which meant she didn’t entirely trust Amiel, but it also meant she didn’t hate her enough to insult her. Leaving as she had showed she was wary of Amiel’s place in their group, but that she was willing to give it a chance.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” Cajun said, face showing similar signs of shock. Shrugging he turned to move to their little safety box, but didn’t go inside. His face said he clearly didn’t trust Harley to come back when he was supposed to. Harley turned to Amiel, lightly gripping her arm.

  “You sure y’all are up to this?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  “Harley, let’s go!” Cajun grumbled quietly. Amiel nodded, her silent encouragement ungluing his feet. He sprinted to Cajun’s side, and was about to step inside when her heard Amiel gasp.

  “They’re coming!” Her words were strained, and she clutched at her heart. Charleen’s lithe form shot into the room, and Harley noticed her look at Amiel with vague surprise as she ran by. Cajun shoved them both into the room, slamming the door shut, leaving them in very cramped, dark quarters. The dim lighting from the thick Plexiglas window in front of them and Pell’s laptop were their only sources of light. Amiel suddenly let out a piercing scream, falling to her knees, arms stretched wide.

  “Well. That was certainly…disconcerting,” Pell muttered, writing something down on his notes. Harley’s body tensed, instincts screaming that he go out there and defend her. He ground his teeth, fighting for control. It was difficult to fight for control over something you didn’t want to fight against. Again, he and his Hybrid wanted the same thing. And again, it revolved around that little girl, out there all alone. Shadowed forms of Rabids poured out of darkened corners in the back of the warehouse, all setting their sights on Amiel. Amiel reached up, the helmet clips popping loose as she yanked it from her head. Harley bit down harder, teeth protesting the strain. Pell perked right up.

  “What in the name of Midgard is she doing?”

  “Here we go again,” Cajun murmured, voice awed and strangely eager. Amiel’s other hand reached to her back, pulling out a gun. The first Rabid went down, then the second, both victims to Amiel’s well aimed shots. One helmet strap held tightly in her hand, it whirled around and around at her side, gaining momentum with each spin. The first Rabid reaching her received a hard smack with the helmet, making a popping sound that could be heard even in their tiny box. The hit dislocated the Rabid’s jaw, its scream of agony quickly cut off with the resounding echo of a bullet being shot through its skull. She turned then, running to jump kick another Rabid in the nose, sending it the ground, nose completely flat and gushing. She used the momentum of that kick to push off, somersaulting in the opposite direction. Coming up in a crouch just in time to slam another rabid in the junk with the helmet, she blasted it in the head with the gun, then swiftly spun on the balls of her feet to slam the helmet into a female’s legs. Amiel rose to her feet, shooting the female in the head as it stumbled by.

  “What is it with this girl and helmets?” Cajun murmured. Harley’s hybrid suddenly roared in anger. One of the two remaining Rabids attacked Amiel, body slamming her to the ground. The gun flew from her grip, aviators jerked from her face with the movement. Harley slammed past Cajun, flying out the door the moment Amiel’s feet left the ground. He watched in what felt like slow motion as Amiel used the backward motion of the Rabid’s attack, his aviators audibly cracking on the ground beneath their combined weight as they rolled to a stop. Amiel ended up on top, sitting on the rabid, legs pinning its arms to the ground. The helmet slammed down on the Rabid’s face until it lay still beneath her. But the effort took too long. The second Rabid pounced on her from behind, head descending to her neck. Harley let out a savage yell, shooting it in the back on the head, crumbling it to the ground. He skidded to a stop at Amiel’s side, slipping in the mess on the floor.

  “Amiel, are you alright?” He gripped her arms, shaking her slightly. “Come on, answer me darlin’.” Her eyes shifted to meet his and his breath stopped. The kid’s pupils were huge, the edges branching out into that elaborate crisscross pattern Cajun had mentioned. But what stopped him short wasn’t the appearance of them, but the paralyzing sensations rolling through him as he stared into those deep lustrous eyes. There was something in their depths, something dark, seductive, and entrancing. He had no idea what it was that called to him so, but his Hybrid was frantic in its need to immerse itself in it. It pulled him in, made him want to lose himself in those dark expanses. It made him want to hold her close and lose himself in the embrace of lips, and hands. His mouth watered, muscles tensed, heart raced. She shivered, lips parting, drawing his gaze from those hypnotizing eyes. He shook his head, trying to break free of the fog that gripped his sanity. Shoving her hair to the side he frantically examined her neck, terrified of the results. He couldn’t kill her. He couldn’t do it. If she were infected it would destroy him, inside and out.

  Her neck, like the rest of her, was splattered and smeared with blood. But when he rubbed it away there were no wounds beneath it. He checked every inch of her exposed skin, checking the skin beneath the two rips in her clothes as well. Nothing. No wounds. Again she’d escaped unscathed. But if he hadn’t gotten there when he did…

  He pulled her to stand with him, wrapping an arm protectively around her, holding her close. She held him too, nose pressing to his shirt, deeply drawing in his scent. He swallowed hard, giving her a squeeze, heart still in danger of bursting from the sheer panic he’d just undergone.

  “Thought I told ya not to break my shades, kid,” he grumbled, oddly feeling the need to say something, though his voice broke under the torrent of emotions tumbling around inside him. She leaned back to look at him, a mischievous little grin quirking the corners of her lips before she went completely limp in his arms, head flopping back. He drew her limp form closer, listening to her slow breathing, rocking slowly side to side and not caring if he looked like a complete sissy. Damn those tags and damn his brother! Between the two of them, they’d end up getting her killed.

  He needed to fix this, he needed to find a way to keep this from ever happening again. Of course he couldn’t exactly get rid of his brother, though at the moment it sounded awfully tempting. That left removing the tags to keep her safe. But how could he ask her to get rid of the
last gift her dying brother had given her? And did he even have the right to ask? Amiel was his charge, and he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe. But she was also his friend, and a tenderhearted kid. He could never force Amiel to do that, and he knew without a doubt that she would never turn those tags over. She’d known this entire time that those tags were a risk to her. Yet her devotion to her brother was so strong she was willing to face those chances, if it meant keeping her promise. He’d felt the power of that devotion emanating from her when Pell had asked her if she ever removed them. That kind of devotion wasn’t something easily given up. And he couldn’t- wouldn’t- be the one to make her. Harley sighed heavily. He was going to have to step up his game on running interference though. What happened tonight…that could never happen again. He’d almost lost the little termite, and he’d only been feet away.

  And now, on top of all this, something else had changed in their relationship. He didn’t understand how or why but when they’d locked gazes, something within her had connected with his deepest darkest parts. As sappy as it sounded, it felt almost as though he’d stared straight into her naked soul, and now it owned him. His Hybrid side made no effort to deny what had happened, no effort to deny the change. Whatever had happened, his Hybrid was now locked to her, and it seemed entirely fine with that fact.

  “Harley. Is she okay, mate?” Cajun asked tentatively, cautiously approaching with Charleen at his side. They stopped cold at the shriveling look he sent their way. Heavy silence hung between them, the atmosphere rife with the knowledge of what had nearly happened, and that something had changed. “I’m sorry, Harl,” Cajun whispered, looking sorrowful.

  “Not. Now,” Harley growled through clenched teeth. He was on the edge of losing it. The fact that he had to support Amiel’s weight was about the only thing keeping him from doing just that. Amiel stirred against him, drawing his attention back to her. She still lay weakly in his arms, but her neck regained enough strength to look up at him.