by Amy Cook
He looked down at his feet, jaw tightening, stomach clenching in rebellion. “I don’t know if I can make that promise, kid,” he whispered. Her hand lifted to gently grasp the back of his arm just above the elbow.
“Harley…”
“I’m lost on ya, kid.” He rushed on before she could speak, still staring at his toes. “You’re all sorts of new and crazy, and I don’t know what to do when ya get like that. I don’t know how to fix ya.”
Her hand slipped down his arm, goose bumps following its wake until she fitted her small hand inside his.
“I know I am. I do not understand half of what happens to me. I’m terrified of what I may be capable of. But I find strength in the knowledge that you are with me.” She lifted her free hand to his face, lightly brushing her fingers over the freshly healed slash Duane had given him. Her gentle touch drew Harley’s gaze. “I need you to be at my side, to lift me until I can gain my own footing. I need your strength and reassurance, your guidance to keep me on the moral path. With you at my side, we can figure anything out. That is how to fix me.” She smiled softly. “Harley, you’ve been fixing me all along. Way before Pell came into the picture.”
“But when ya get hurt…”
“When I get hurt, my body will take care of it. It will heal itself, and I will be fine. You trust your own body to heal, now it is time to trust mine. That is all we can do. No more Pell, no more doctors, no more hospitals that risk hurting you.”
“I’d risk anythin’ if it meant protectin’ ya, kid.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and he fought against the tide of the current, tried to keep some of his determination and emotion to himself so he didn’t steamroll her. He didn’t do a very good job of it. But she didn’t run for the hills; she didn’t laugh. She glowed.
“You are a good man, Harley Coaver.”
He cleared his throat, pulling himself away from the precipice of falling into her eyes and never leaving.
“I don’t like to brag.”
“And so modest.” Her mischievous grin sobered. “I have to ask. What happened to you in the alley… that was really because of the watch?”
He had been wondering when she would get to that. His Hybrid puffed itself up, stalking around the recesses of his mind like a ticked-off cat. It hated those watches, hated the way they could subdue him in seconds.
“When we take the oath, Foundation surgically implants devices in our spines. The watches are triggers that activate ’em, allow control over how much pain is inflicted. It does somethin’ to your head, screws with your nervous system. Ya can’t control your body. If they up the level beyond a certain point, it can kill ya. It’s meant to keep us in line, to bring us to our knees if we ever get outta hand.”
Amiel’s face clouded over with each word he spoke. She reached out to lightly touch the skin near the stab wound in his shoulder. He’d tossed on a wifebeater for better access to the wound, cleaned it and patched it up while they waited for Pell to show. By the next day, you’d hardly know it was there. By the week’s end, there wouldn’t even be a scar left to remember it by.
“I was so scared.” Her voice was rough, dark.
“I’m sorry. I wish I coulda spared ya this.”
She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t scared for me. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to save you: that I’d lose you forever.” Her eyes lifted to meet his, strength and determination shining back at him in those green depths. “I don’t feel any remorse for what I did to that man tonight. Perhaps I should. But I do not. The only regret I feel is that I took so long to react: that my hesitation could have cost your life.”
Harley stared at her in awe for a long moment. She mistook his silence, glancing back down at his wound. “I know that must make me sound like a monster.”
“No, not at all. I just… ya never fail to amaze me, Thumbelina. Your strength, sometimes it’s staggerin’ in its beauty.” He nearly choked when he realized he’d said that out loud. His cheeks flushed and he dropped his gaze. That was a bad idea in its own way, when he realized what he was staring at. That suit was a danger to any man with eyes.
He forced his eyes higher, letting them refocus on the two red spots on her chest where he had pried the barbs from her skin earlier. They were already healing, the redness lessening, the holes already gone. Reaching forward, he gripped the tag of the zipper on her coat, slowly pulling it upward until it reached the top.
“Zipped all the way, from now on,” he reminded her gently. She nodded, but gripped his hands before he could pull away.
“I lied.”
His brow creased. “When?”
“When I said I felt no joy.”
Harley’s mind quickly rewound to the point when Pell asked Amiel if she felt joy in her vengeance. His stomach quivered slightly, unwelcome concerns for her mental safety rising. It was never good for Hybrids to become pleased in their kills.
“Ya liked it?”
Her head shook slowly. “I felt no joy in harming that man,” she stated hesitantly. “I felt nothing but a means to an end. And that is frightening, in and of itself,” she lamented. “But I did feel joy, only in a different aspect.”
Her eyes rose to meet his, and the hairs on his arms lifted at the feeling of sheer, drawing strength within them. It was a sensation he’d only felt around one other person: his Hybrid leader, Charleen. And the fact that Amiel held an ounce of that when not even in touch with her Hybrid side was terrifying. Not for him, but for her. It could one day lead to a battle of dominance between Charleen and Amiel, and Harley wasn’t sure anyone would survive it.
“Damn it all to Hell.” Harley exhaled nervously. Only Amiel could put him on edge like this, and she seemed to enjoy finding new ways to do that every day.
“I know. I know it’s bad.” Her voice trembled. “I felt infinite power, Harley. I shook with it; I shake with it now, even thinking of it. That was my joy. It filled every ounce of my being. I felt I could destroy the world if I wished to. And with that power, I felt a soul-deep sensation of… freedom.” The word issued from her lips like a prayer.
“I felt a freedom I have longed for all my life, yet never fully grasped.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a current of apprehension shivered toward him. “I fear I could become very addicted to such a feeling, Harley. And I fear what will happen if I do.”
Harley pulled her close, held her in his arms until he felt her muscles loosen, her breathing even. Finally the hairs of his arms relaxed along with her, the sensation of power she carried subsiding. He released a shuddering breath. Life just kept getting more complicated.
“All right, Thumbelina. Let’s go.” Apprehension filled her gaze as she allowed him to pull her along.
“What are we doing?”
“I think it’s time I had another conversation with your other side.” Harley glowered.
Chapter 28
Harley
Amiel crouched over the solitary Rabid she’d killed, head craning side to side as she looked around for more. Finding none, a laugh issued from her throat.
“You brought me out, just for this one Rabid, Harley?” Her head twisted toward him, sassy smirk fully in place, marking the Hybrid separate from Amiel. “I am beginning to think you just missed me.”
“Like a hot knife in my side,” he replied drolly. Another laugh pealed through the confines of the warehouse as she lithely rose to her feet.
“I remember this place. It is the place you and I first officially met.” Her head ticked to the side. “Are you going to propose now?” He flinched as she seductively strode toward him, stopping mere inches away. He wasn’t sure which was worse: that this side of Amiel frustrated him, or that it still appealed to him regardless of that fact. It was all Amiel, and yet it wasn’t. How was a guy supposed to feel in such a situation? He couldn’t very well hate this side of her… just like he couldn’t love it. Because, in the end, the question was always the same: how much of it was Amiel and how much was the tag
s? Gritting his teeth, he hid his emotions away.
“Cut the crap. We’re here to talk about that stunt ya pulled in the alleyway.”
“You mean the one where your life was saved?” she replied coyly.
“I mean the one that nearly turned Amiel into a killer.”
“Do not think that you can play that card with me, Hybrid.” Her tone turned patronizing as she strolled a few feet away. “You and I both know that killing is a commonplace matter of this world. Life for a life; it is as natural as breathing. We have all done what had to be done to survive.” She turned toward him. “Was it not you that told me she was strong enough to handle what was necessary to survive?”
“She is. And you’re right, about the necessity of it,” Harley growled grudgingly. “But ya didn’t have to revel in the power of bein’ free to do it.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head with a sad smile.
“How little you know.” Her chin lifted, charismatic grin back in place. “Besides, what good is power if you cannot revel in it now and then?”
“Stop with the power plays. You’re makin’ her feel like a crazy, bloodthirsty freak. You say you’re protectin’ her, but you’re gonna end up crushin’ her from within.”
“We are all a little crazy,” she replied playfully. He was unimpressed. She sighed, hands on hips in a way that was entirely too Amiel. “When will you learn that I am here for Amiel’s benefit?”
“When ya start showin’ it.”
Her spine straightened at his stern reply. “As much as I would love to stay and help you find more ways to hate me, you have bigger concerns on your hands, Hybrid.”
“Enlighten me.” Harley folded his arms across his chest. She moved into his personal space once more, hands tugging on his arms as she stared up into his eyes. He felt all sorts of wild sensations spinning through him as he stared down at his charge, the sensations between the Hybrids flowing and crashing together. Swallowing hard, he let his arms loosen. She guided his arms to wrap around her waist, her own body pressed flush against his. His fingers reflexively clutched her jacket, holding her in place. Amiel stared up at him, voice lowered to conspirator levels.
“I am not the monster you think me to be. I had nothing to do with the actions of Amiel in that alley.”
“Bull puckey,” Harley argued shakily. The kid affected him too much, no matter which state she was in. “If not you, then who?”
“Amiel, of course.” The sassy grin made one more appearance, before her body went limp against him. Harley held the girl in his arms, the whole world swirling around him in a maze of question after question. Each led to a dead end or another dizzying twist of questions.
“What did you find out?” Amiel stirred against him, soft grin that was hers alone back in place. He stared down into her innocent wide eyes, and never felt more sure of anything in his life.
“You’re gonna be just fine, kid. I promise.”
Her answering grin was breathtaking.
“We just need to keep that side of ya away from Charleen.”
Amiel’s brow creased in concern. “Would she be angry with me?”
“She might kill ya.”
Amiel’s eyes flew wide.
“Or you might kill her,” he added wryly. “Either way, it won’t end well.” Her lips quirked slightly in the corners, shifting up and down as though unsure if he was teasing her. “I’m serious,” he added for her benefit.
“Because I am a danger.” Her face was solemn, her eyes telling him that she understood; maybe even deserved it. His Hybrid huffed, not liking that mindset at all.
“Because you’ve both got enough power bouncin’ off ya to light a city.”
Amiel bit her lip uncertainly.
“She’s been one of your biggest advocates along this whole way, and she’d hate to have to kill ya, kid. And I’d hate to have to try and kill her before she could kill you. And then have to kill my brother, because I tried to kill his woman. That’s way too much killin’ for my schedule. So let’s just keep this on the down low, and work harder on that control, yeah? Because what we’re doin’ now ain’t enough.”
Amiel looked at him in surprise. “Charleen likes me?”
“After everythin’ I just said, that’s what ya pick up?” He shook his head. “You’ve got a way about ya, kid, brings in even the roughest of us: like a gravitational pull.”
“I just… I mean, I knew she tolerated me, accepted me on a certain level because you are my friend. But like me? That’s really a compliment.” A grin steadily grew on her face until it was bright enough to light a room. “Okay. Let’s work harder on this control. What is the first step?”
Harley grinned down at her, just now realizing he still held her in his arms. She had her land legs back now; there was no reason to keep holding her. Yet for some dumb reason, he didn’t move away like he should. He just held her, grinning down at her like a complete sap. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for his reply.
“Tomato sauce.”
Her nose scrunched in an entirely too-cute way. “I beg your pardon?”
He just smiled.
Chapter 29
Cajun
“We have to up the dosages I’m getting.”
Pell’s eyes widened up at Cajun. “You’re kidding, right?”
Cajun’s face made it clear he wasn’t. Pell winced.
“We just upped the dose two weeks ago.”
“And now we need to do it again.” Cajun glanced around at the other desks in the lab, assuring himself no one was listening to their conversation. Pell fidgeted with his glasses nervously, adjusting and readjusting them on his nose. Cajun sighed tiredly. “Stop trying to buy time, mate. We both know time doesn’t wait for anyone.”
“Cajun, I can’t up your dose any more. You’re already on the edge of overdose.”
“My brain’s slipping away on me, Pell. I feel myself walking the edge of sanity every day. The edge of overdose is the least of my worries.”
“And what about my worries, when you OD and Charleen finds out I’ve been slipping you the stuff that ends up killing you? She’ll toss me in the same grave. Minus a few limbs… and a head.” Pell swallowed uncomfortably. Cajun couldn’t help the grin that spread his lips. His Char was a hellion; she probably would rip the poor dag’s stick figure arms off. He opened his mouth to reply, then Harley’s scent drifted past his nose. Looking up, he saw his brother heading their way from across the room.
“Not a word, Pell,” Cajun reminded the man with a cautious whisper.
“I know, I know,” Pell murmured with a heavy knowledge in his tone. They both knew they weren’t done with this conversation.
“Harley, what brings my favorite little brother down to the lab?” Cajun grinned brightly. Harley’s brow lifted slightly, and Cajun smiled disarmingly. Harley didn’t buy it; he never did. His brother was too smart for his own good sometimes.
“I could ask ya the same thing, Caj. But I don’t think you’d tell me.”
Cajun winced; like he said, too smart for his own good. It probably had something to do with the fact that Harley had gotten very good at reading him, all those years he’d taken care of him through the cancer. Cajun knew Harley knew something was wrong with him. He knew Harley knew he was hiding the truth from him. And he knew they both knew he wasn’t going to let the secret slip any time soon. So, for the millionth time, Cajun let it slide under the rug, ignoring it like it never existed.
“I’m feeling a bit irregular this week. The missus sent me down to yabber at this one for something to loosen me up so I’d stop being a sook, if you know what I mean.” Cajun winked cheekily. Harley’s face scrunched up in disgust.
“What? No, never mind, I don’t wanna know. That’s disgustin’; a lie, and disgustin’. But I don’t got time for that now.” Harley turned to Pell, and Cajun breathed a sigh of relief and sadness alike. He hated keeping his brother in the dark. But while Harley might know something was wrong, neither he nor Ch
ar knew the full depth of it. And he was determined to keep it that way until the end.
“I need some intel, Pell,” Harley murmured, grabbing a chair and sitting at Pell’s desk. Pell stared at him, a careful expression on his face.
“Does Amiel know you’re asking me for this intel?”
Cajun grinned as he saw the conflicted hesitation in his brother’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but Harley had given him enough flak over the years about Charleen’s influence that it was finally nice to see someone else giving his little brother the same medicine.
“No,” Harley admitted grudgingly. “But technically this is Foundation business, not Amiel-related business, and therefore legal to ask your help on.”
“Legalities and technicalities don’t work on women, mate,” Cajun warned humorously. Pell nodded enthusiastically, which only made Cajun’s grin bigger. Even the science dags understood that about women.
“She’d be okay with this one… I think.” Harley frowned, before shaking his head. “If you’re willin’ to help, I’d appreciate it. It’s kinda important, and I can’t ask anyone else.” Pell’s face immediately split in two, his inner fanboy loving that Harley was asking him for help again.
“Of course! Men stick together, bros before hos and all that.” Harley’s brow furrowed, eyes darkening, and Pell quickly backpedaled while Cajun chuckled quietly to himself. “Well, which isn’t to say I think Amiel is a ho… because she’s not, of course. She’s a lovely, beautiful lady, deserving of respect.”
Harley rolled his eyes. “Pell, shut up.”
“Yes, good idea.” Pell swallowed, zipping his lips.
“Is there any way to discreetly find out if somebody higher on the Foundation food chain showed up dead around here lately? Or put in an inquiry for a new watch?”
Pell scrunched his nose as his fingers flew over the keyboard.
“Looks like one of the guards, R. Morris, put in for a replacement watch last week. The inquiry says his watch was damaged when it accidentally fell in the garbage disposal.”
Cajun snorted. “Really? Who’s going to buy that for an excuse? Any no-hopper would know that was a lie.”
