Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1

by Amy Cook

  Cajun frowned, feeling the guilt eat away at his gut again. Since their friendship had to remain secret, Harley and Char knew nothing about it. He’d had to make up several different stories that morning, working around his lies. He thought for sure Harley wouldn’t buy into the lame cover story he’d made to explain Amiel’s existence and Pell’s willingness to help. But thankfully Harley and Charleen were still in the dark. And Cajun wanted to keep it that way. If they knew about the friendship, they’d know about the true depth of Cajun’s ticking time bomb. He didn’t even want to think about the lies he’d told Char.

  “Yeah, I went a little wonka, I know,” Cajun admitted, leaning tiredly against the table.

  “You know Foundation will completely freak if they find out about Amiel and her tags, don’t you?”

  “Which is why we are going to make sure that they don’t find out.” Cajun patted Pell on the shoulder and walked toward the mess of Rabids on the floor. “You might want to start looking for a new helmet, Einstein.” He nudged the mangled helmet with his booted toe.

  “Yeah, you weren’t kidding about that one,” Pell agreed as he started removing something from his laptop. “And to think! I’ve been waiting for you to spoon-feed me any details about her and those tags, when I myself had already met her!” Cajun pursed his lips.

  “So she was right, she did know you?”

  “I was at the diner on her first day working. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to go back since then. Of course, I didn’t know who she was or what she could do til today!” He pointed at the mangled helmet on the floor. “If I had only known, I would have made a point of going back more often and holding conversations with her that didn’t involve me blabbering about my Viking ancestors.”

  “You’d still blabber about that,” Cajun muttered, grasping the helmet. “I might have to get me a helmet,” Cajun mused. “They look like a lot of fun.” He turned at the sound a power drill, watching with a smirk as Pell began drilling holes in the thing he’d just popped out of his laptop.

  “So why did you tell her you didn’t know her?”

  “Perhaps you missed the part of my story about blathering on and on about my Viking ancestry? Not the best impression you want a girl to remember.”

  “That didn’t stop you from blathering on about trying to steal a cow’s milkginity.” Pell frowned in thought at that.

  “Ah…yes. There was that. It came out sounding quite different than I intended.” He sighed, continuing his drilling. “Besides, you saw the way Harley was looking at me. He probably would have shredded me if he knew I’d met Amiel already.” Canjun nodded. His brother definitely held a strong protective instinct toward the bird, and his instincts didn’t need the threat of false competition, especially when that competition was involved with Foundation. Cajun winced. Harley’s dislike for the guy had likely doubled now that he thought Pell was a perv. Pell would be horrified to know that Cajun’s lies had included telling Harley that he was into granny porn of all things. He’d break that bit of news to the poor guy later. For now, his eyes zeroed in on the object in Pell’s hands, the drill finally falling silent.

  “What are you doing anyways?”

  “Drilling holes in my hard drive. When we burn the rabid bodies, we’ll toss this in there with them. It’ll destroy all the readings and evidence I took today. No more trail to Amiel.” Cajun nodded, pursing his lips.

  “Not bad, Einstein, not bad.”

  “It’s a pity to destroy such astounding knowledge, though.” Pell lamented.

  “It’s not destroyed, it’s locked up there in that oversized melon on your shoulders, just like everything else,” Cajun teased, earning a goofy boyish grin from his confidant. Pell was oddly proud of his oversized head. “Now, let’s have us a bonfire.”

  “Want a ride somewhere after this?”

  “And ride on that goofy moped? I don’t think so.” Cajun laughed as Pell wiggled his eyebrows.

  “The ladies love it.”

  “Sure they do. Let’s get this bash going. I’ve got apologies to make and Rabids to kill before the day’s over.”

  “So cool.” Pell grinned cheekily, idolization in his eyes. Cajun laughed, giving the kid a noogie before grabbing the gasoline.

  Chapter 29

  Harley

  “If they made an army like Amiel, they would have no need for Hybrids. We only live now because they need us. With that need gone, they would terminate us all,” Charleen pointed out in her blunt, straightforward way as they bumped along the road. Harley clutched Amiel closer- his salvation, his destruction.

  “I know.”

  “Cajun was reacting on instinct, his Hybrid’s self-preservation.” It was the closest she could come to apologizing and trying to smooth things over between he and his brother. Harley nodded again.

  “So am I.” Charleen’s eyes shifted to him, absorbing the way he held her.

  “You’ve bonded with her somehow.” It wasn’t a question. Charleen had a strange way of knowing and understanding what was happening within her progeny, oftentimes before they understood it about themselves.

  “Yes. My Hybrid is- attached to her.”

  “Not just your Hybrid.”

  “No. Suppose not,” he murmured. “We’re friends.” Charleen’s lips quirked into a rare smile. So rare, he’d only seen it one other time, outside of Cajun’s presence.

  “Where are we going?” She left the subject alone, having said everything she felt was necessary. Another thing he’d always respected about her.

  “I have a place. A gym I purchased on Bisborl Street.”

  “A gym?” Charleen quirked a brow, clearly wondering how he thought this was a good idea.

  “Yes. I told her we’d start practicing today. I intend to keep that promise.”

  “Don’t push her too far. She’s been through a lot in the last twelve hours. Plus, she’s in the midst of Blood Moon.” Harley was so surprised by another show of Charleen’s caring about Amiel’s wellbeing, that he choked when her last statement finally registered.

  “What? How do you know that?”

  “You can’t smell the change in her pheromones? They’re nearly as potent as mine.” She stared off into the distance. “Probably another effect of those tags on her genetics. Maybe why those Rabids are so good at hunting her, too. It’s different than mine, but the magnetism is still there. You might want to find out if the timing is always in sync. That could be a problem.” Charleen would know. The Blood Moon was prime hunting time for the Hybrids, because the change in her scent brought the Rabids pouring out of the woodwork. It was also Charleen’s arch nemesis, considering she had to be bait and weapon, all while she was in her own realm of pain.

  “I didn’t recognize that that’s what the scent was,” he admitted gruffly, finally understanding the depth of what the elusively dark and dangerous edge to her scent lately had been. Charleen nodded.

  “Which is another reason I’m coming along. I’ll get her cleaned up, while you get her something to wear. She needs to get that Rabid blood off of her.” Her lips pursed. “Unless you were planning on giving her a shower?” Charleen speared him with her gaze, letting him know what the correct answer was. He already knew it anyways.

  “No.”

  “Good. Still want to go to the gym?”

  “There’s a shower there.” Charleen nodded, not saying another word. When they arrived at the gym, Harley unlocked it and led the way in. It was an old place, one that used to be in high demand before the Rabid War. Since then, many businesses had been forced to close down. Lots of business owners had ended up Rabid food, too. This was one of those places. He’d used the money he’d been saving up at Foundation to purchase it. A foolish investment most would argue. The money they made was chicken feed, a good portion of it going to the things they needed to survive only. But to him, this investment had just felt right. And now, he was more than glad that he’d done it.

  “Where’s the shower?” C
harleen asked, all business. Harley pointed his chin in the direction of a little dark room at the back of the gym. Charleen nodded and reached for Amiel. Harley recoiled instinctively, pulling the kid close to his chest. Charleen’s brow rose, expression unamused.

  “Give her to me.” Harley grudgingly complied, shifting his charge from his arms to Charleen’s. He shoved his hands in his pockets, arms suddenly feeling empty and useless.

  “What if she wakes?”

  “Then she will handle the situation at hand. I’m not going to kill her and she’s not as delicate as you like to think.” She was right of course. Amiel was a hellcat in the making. He’d promised himself long ago that he wouldn’t coddle her, or turn into a sissy himself. He was doing both.

  He nodded stiffly, watching as Charleen effortlessly carried his charge to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He spun on his heel, heading straight for Amiel’s apartments. He borrowed Cajun’s SUV, intent on bringing Amiel’s bike back with him. He had a set of spare keys that Caj had given him a long time ago. He had a spare set of Amiel’s keys, too. She didn’t know it, but he’d secretly made copies of her keys when he’d first bought the locks. He’d felt underhanded about it at the time, but it made him feel better having a set of his own. Just in case. In case of what, he had no idea. He hadn’t questioned his Hybrid’s need for the keys, he’d just done it. Now he was glad he had.

  He entered her apartment without a single run in with the Rat, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with the leech at the moment. Grabbing a large towel from her bathroom, he hesitated. Swallowing hard he delved into the cabinets, searching for what he was sure Amiel would probably need. His lip curled in disdain when he saw the little girly colored package sitting open and half empty at the bottom of the cabinet. Picking the box up with the tips of his fingers, he shoved it into the towel, rolling it up like it was a dangerous substance. Every guy alive knew it was.

  With a sigh of relief at having that matter taken care of, he set about finding her clothes. He found a pair of sweatshorts on the floor at the foot of her bed, some socks in her locker. He was about to grab a shirt from there too when his eyes caught on the sight of the shirt on her bed. It was the fish shirt he’d left for her. He picked it up and drew in a deep breath of it. It smelled strongly of Amiel. And just below that, was the lingering scent from when he’d worn it. She hadn’t washed it after he’d left it, and from the looks of it she’d been sleeping in it. The idea gave him an odd sort of thrill. Rubbing his thumb over the goofy logo, he shoved it inside the bag he had collected the other items in. It was an old bag of Harley’s, the one that Cajun had sent over with his clothes in it. He’d left it here, along with the shirt, on purpose. For some dumb reason he’d hoped that she would use them. A juvenile and foolish idea perhaps, but he’d done it anyways.

  He returned to the gym in a record amount of time, wheeling Amiel’s bike in to safely park inside the entrance, the door automatically locking behind him. The water was still running inside the bathroom when he reached the top of the stairs. He knocked on the door, silently handing the bag inside the crack of the door when Charleen opened it. Left with nothing else to do, he paced the floor for a time before slouching on the ground, phone in hand.

  “Mud Hogs Travel Agency. Tandy Coaver speaking.” The voice on the other line brought an instant balm of relief.

  “Pops.”

  “What’s wrong, boy?” He and his Pops knew each other like they knew engines. As such, Tandy knew Harley was in a tough spot simply from his voice, and he was ready to help if he could.

  “I’m in over my head, pops,” he confessed miserably, hand rubbing over his face.

  “She’s got a way of reelin’ ya in, don’t she?” Tandy chuckled, immediately understanding the heart of the issue. It was kind of scary how he did that sometimes.

  “Yeah.”

  “My advice? Don’t fight it.”

  “Pop,” Harley groaned.

  “I know how y’all feel ‘bout matters of the heart, boy. Ain’t no one can blame ya for it, neither. Y’all had a rough go of life, and ain’t never had a woman treat ya right, ‘sides your gran and cousins. And y’all won’t let yourself get close enough to them to realize women ain’t all wrong. With the life you’ve gotta lead now it don’t surprise me none that ya wanna keep distance between ya. I understand that.” Harley sighed, letting his head thump back against the wall. It was all true, but it didn’t make it feel any more right.

  “But they ain’t all wrong, boy. Your ma, well, she done ya wrong. Ain’t nothin’ I can do to fix that, though I wish I coulda. I loved her, but her problems were bigger than our love.” Harley squeezed his eyes shut, throat swelling slightly as he fought against the rising emotions. “Don’t go judgin’ all women based off her. They all got their faults, it’s true. But then so do we. We’re all one big mess. But Amiel, she’s a good one, the best y’all are gonna find in today’s world, I can promise ya that. She’s called a few times, and she’s always got a good thing to say ‘bout ya when she does. She gets that dopey dreamy tone to her voice, and I can tell she cares ‘bout ya, boy. To push that away, all cause of somethin’ your mama did in her weakness?” Harley could practically feel Tandy shrug on the other line. “It’d make ya the bigger fool, for it.”

  “I been lettin’ her in,” Harley confided. “But I’m afraid to let her all the way in, pops.”

  “Ain’t no man ever fearless in the presence of a woman, son.”

  “Somethin’ went bad today,” Harley explained, not venturing too far into description. His phones were issued by Foundation, and while he didn’t think they had much reason to be listening in on his conversations at present, he and his pops didn’t take chances. “She almost got hurt. In a real bad way.” Tandy was silent for a moment.

  “You do it to her?”

  “Naw, but I didn’t stop her from doin’ it, neither.”

  “Can’t stop no one from doin’ somethin’ they set their hearts to boy. It’ll only make ‘em hard set against ya,” Tandy counseled.

  “It scared the hell outta me, pops,” Harley confessed, feeling weak in the knees just thinking about that split second moment when she’d nearly been bitten.

  “That’s the humanity in ya talkin’, boy.” Tandy’s voice smiled. “It’s normal to worry ‘bout your friends and family. It’s normal for it to hurt ya when they hurt.” Harley sighed, wishing that caring for people didn’t come along with a whole set of pain.

  “She okay?” Tandy asked, the concern edging through in his voice.

  “Physically. Her head and heart, not so much.” He hesitated. “I think maybe she’d be more okay if I shared somethin’ of my own ghosts. But I don’t know if I can.”

  “If ya care ‘bout her boy, y’all can do anythin’ for her.” Harley stared at the bathroom door, hearing the water shutting off.

  “Alright, pops. Thanks.”

  “Sure. And have that girl call me when she’s feelin’ up to it.”

  “Alright, Papa Bear,” Harley teased. Tandy harrumphed on the other end of the phone, but they both knew it was true. He worried about the kid as much as he worried about his own boys. That was fitting, considering Harley had brought her into his family circle completely now. And he was about to pound in the final nail of that coffin.

  Charleen stepped out, leading a shaky Amiel behind her. Her hair was towel dried, lying draped over each shoulder, dripping trails down the front of her shirt. The shirt had been too small on Harley, but it practically swallowed Amiel whole. It went down to mid-thigh, and if he hadn’t seen the edges of the shorts with each step she took, he’d have thought she wasn’t wearing anything under that shirt. He focused on her more innocent qualities, and the pain she was currently facing, pushing his drooling Hybrid to the back of his mind. Now was not the time for that. Never, was the time for that.

  The kid looked miserable, like a lost lil kitten caught in a rain storm. Charleen nodded t
o him, leaving Amiel standing in the middle of the room.

  “I’ll grab your bike,” she promised Harley as she headed down the stairs. Harley nodded, not saying a word to Amiel until he heard Charleen drive away.

  “Kid?”

  She blinked dully, glancing around. “Where are we?” Her voice was devoid of emotion. She was in shock, and likely pulling in on herself, shutting out the world. That was something he wouldn’t allow. He refused to sit idly by while she snuffed out her sunshine.

  “The gym,” he replied gruffly. “We agreed to start practicin’ today.” Her eyes shifted his direction before quickly slipping away.

  “I don’t really feel like it anymore.”

  “I don’t care.” Her eyes widened slightly, surprise entering their depths. Good.

  “Get them gloves on the floor, put ‘em on, and start hittin’ this bag.” He motioned to the fat red gloves on the floor, and then the heavy black punching bag hanging to his left.

  “I don’t want to,” she reasserted, voice remaining stubbornly monotone.

  “Again, I don’t care. Put ‘em on, or I’ll put ‘em on for ya.” She stared boldly at him, directly in the eyes. He chuckled inside, knowing full well that her challenge was intentional. Crazy little hellcat of a woman. He didn’t let the humor show through in his face or eyes, however. She needed this tough love. Finally he took some purposeful steps toward her and she glared.