Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2

by Amy Cook

  “He is already dead,” Charleen stated simply, still watching her carefully. Amiel felt an odd sort of conflict within. Part of her was relieved, and part of her wished she’d been able to witness it. Both appalling thoughts, yet seemingly unavoidable as they stayed firmly lodged within. Charleen saved her from too much internal confusion on the matter as she began explaining everything in her clinical and clipped way. By the end, Amiel was pacing the length of her small apartment, and Charleen watched each pass like a cat with a toy.

  “Thank you for telling me, Charleen.” Amiel rubbed at her eyes. “I wish I could do something to help him.”

  Charleen grabbed Amiel’s phone from the side table near the chair, offering it to her.

  “Call your work. Tell them you are ill.”

  “No, really, I am fine.”

  Charleen’s left brow rose imperiously. “It wasn’t a request. You’ll be busy tonight.”

  “I will?” Amiel asked cautiously.

  “Yes. You’re spending the night with me.”

  Amiel swallowed hard, glancing at the doorway as though she could escape. Charleen stood gracefully, a rare smile on her lips.

  “Don’t worry. I usually don’t bite.” She strode toward the door, holding it open wide, waiting. Amiel zipped up her coat and grabbed her phone, hesitantly walking toward the door. Charleen stopped her as she reached for her helmet on the counter.

  “You won’t be needing that tonight.”

  “This isn’t where you kill me and hide my body, is it?”

  Charleen frowned in thought. “Why would I hide the body? Rabids would handle disposal just fine.”

  Amiel froze, eyes wide in silent horror. Charleen’s grin grew, and she actually laughed. “No, Amiel. You have nothing to fear from me. This night or any other.” Her smile disappeared. “Unless you make me angry.”

  Amiel waited for the smile to return. When it didn’t, she swallowed hard and carefully edged by Charleen on the way out the door.

  “You spook easily,” Charleen pointed out, joining her in the hallway, small smile back in place. “We need to work on that.”

  “We do?”

  “It’s on the to-do list.”

  “We have a to-do list?”

  “Of course. This is my first real girls’ night out. I don’t want to forget anything.” Charleen offered her a large grin, and Amiel said a silent prayer that she would survive the night.

  As it turned out, it was one of the best nights she’d had in a long time. Charleen took her directly to the gym, which made Amiel endlessly nervous. Training with Charleen was intimidating to the core. Yet when they got inside, she watched in confusion as Charleen promptly sat on the floor, crossed her legs, and closed her eyes. Amiel stared, body tense, waiting for the girl to spring from the floor and catch her unawares.

  “Sit.”

  Amiel jumped at the quietly spoken word. Charleen didn’t bother opening her eyes; her serene expression never changed. Amiel carefully stepped forward, her feet moving silently, still expecting attack. A small smile quirked Charleen’s lips.

  “While your stealth is admirable, you won’t need it.”

  Amiel bit her lip, but finally sat, moving to position her body as closely mimicking Charleen’s as she could.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “How did you…”

  “I can feel your suspicion burning a hole through me.”

  Amiel blushed. “Sorry. I just… what are we doing?”

  “Training.”

  “This is training?”

  “Not all conditioning revolves around the body, Amiel. Sometimes the mind can be the most powerful weapon, or defense.”

  “So, you’re not going to jump up and attack me the moment I close my eyes?”

  Charleen laughed again, the sound musical and light. It was so entirely in contrast with what Amiel knew of Charleen, it was all that much more charming.

  “If that is how Harley trains you, it is no wonder that you are so tense all the time.”

  “I am not tense all the time,” Amiel argued. Charleen opened one eye, peeking at her with a grin that argued without a single word. “Well… either way, his training has helped a great deal. It’s good to always be aware of the dangers around you,” Amiel added, feeling the need to defend her friend.

  “I am not attacking Harley’s methods, Amiel. I am merely pointing out that, sometimes, it is easy to get caught up in the battle of the storm within: so easy that you forget the calm that can be found by centering yourself in it.”

  Amiel blinked, caught off guard by the depth of that particular statement. Taking a deep breath, Amiel closed her eyes. For a long time they sat silently, floating in the eye of their own storms.

  “Meditation is a way to your deeper self.” Charleen’s voice was calm, quiet and serene. “There will be times you feel out of control. When those times come, meditation is your key to dominance. Everything in the Hybrid lifestyle comes down to dominance.”

  “Does that apply to me too?”

  “You are one of us now. In every aspect that matters. Of course it applies to you.” That sheer acceptance warmed Amiel’s heart, through and through.

  “I think we need to teach Harley meditation.” Amiel felt Charleen’s smile more than she saw it, with her eyes still closed.

  “Harley is in a constant state of meditation, I think. Only he does it differently than most.”

  “What does he do, stand on his head?”

  “No. But he gets lost inside himself often.” A frown entered Charleen’s tone. “That is a gift that can be helpful, for self-reflection and betterment. It can also be detrimental.”

  “He is too hard on himself. Takes everything to heart,” Amiel guessed.

  “Yes. As do you.”

  Amiel was glad her eyes were closed. It helped ward off some of her embarrassment. She was finding that Charleen had the uncomfortable ability to see deeper than the average person.

  “You are new to this life, Amiel. You walk a path no one has before you, aside from your brother; and he is no longer around to ask for guidance. You can’t expect to be a master of self-control, a master of a part of you that you do not understand. Not yet. But, given time, you shall conquer all, and be better for it. And in the meantime, you have us to rely on.”

  Amiel squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You are welcome. Now, be a dog with me.”

  Amiel opened her eyes in confusion, only to find Charleen bending her body in the downward-facing dog position. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from her lips, as she quickly moved to replicate the position as best she could. The rest of the night was spent with quiet laughter, and movement that relaxed and stretched the body and mind alike. They didn’t speak in depth about their personal lives, or hopes or dreams. They merely enjoyed one another’s company. And it was pure bliss.

  By the time Charleen took Amiel back home, the sun was rising, and Amiel was yawning. Her body and mind felt relaxed and warm, all too ready to cuddle into bed.

  “I never had the chance to thank you for that night out at the restaurant. It was a smart and sneaky way of making the boys be nice to one another.” Charleen grinned, clearly enjoying the sneaky factor. “I couldn’t have stood Cajun’s whining over his brother another day. So thank you for that.”

  Amiel grinned. “It was my pleasure. I couldn’t let them be angry at each other because of me. I know how it feels to lose a brother. I would never wish to impose such a loss on a friend.”

  Charleen nodded, turning to face her as they pulled up in front of the apartment complex.

  “I know, and I respect that in you. The ability to think of others above yourself is an admirable trait.”

  Amiel blushed, unsure how to reply to that. “This was really fun, Charleen. And it helped take my mind off my worry.”

  “It was fun. I am glad it helped you as much as it helped me. I kno
w we did not fight Rabids, but I hope it was enough to appease your other side until Harley returns. I have a feeling he will not be away for long.”

  Amiel’s eyes widened. “You know? About my other side?”

  “Of course.” Charleen nodded with a soft smile. “Harley talks to Cajun, and Cajun talks to me. And no matter how much of the puzzle the both of them try to keep from me, I am good at putting pieces together.” She looked away, expression solemn for a long moment. Finally she breathed a pleased sigh.

  “It is not often I get to enjoy the companionship of another woman, without her trying to steal my mate or position.”

  Amiel grinned brightly. “No worries there from me,” she promised. “I’d like to do it again sometime. If you are open to the idea.”

  “That would be nice,” Charleen agreed. “I will speak with Harley about a scheduled arrangement.”

  Amiel hesitated, with her hand on the door. “You are certain he will be all right? Should I maybe send him a text to check up on him? No, that’s a bad idea. The sound might bother him in his Collapsed state.”

  Charleen chuckled quietly to herself at Amiel’s one-sided argument. “Harley will be well. Trust in his strength.”

  Amiel nodded, sighing heavily. Charleen was right. She’d just told Harley the same thing about herself in the gym the other night, hadn’t she?

  “You’re right. Thank you, Charleen. Have a wonderful day.” She moved to climb out of the car, pausing when Charleen called after her.

  “Remember, Amiel. When the storm rages within, find your center.”

  Amiel nodded her thanks, and headed inside the gates. Charleen waited until she saw her enter the building before driving away. As Amiel unlocked her door, her gaze fastened to Darvey’s door down the hall.

  She knew she should feel remorse for the loss of life. In a way, she felt badly that he had been so crazy it ended with his death. However, when his door didn’t open at the sound of her approach, when he didn’t come bounding down the hall with that crazed expression in his eyes, when she knew she could sleep with the TV off if she wanted to, she couldn’t help the small smile of relief that spread across her lips. The smile spread when she realized Harley could now hang out here whenever he wanted, without them worrying about what Darvey had planned next. She slept with that smile on her face, though she kept the TV on. Old habits die hard.

  Chapter 33

  Amiel

  Amiel woke slowly, and it took her a long moment to realize what had woken her. The tags were tingling against her chest in a way she’d been missing for five days. She sat up excitedly, expecting to hear a knock at the door. Instead, she realized he was already in her apartment: curled up at the foot of her bed, in fact. Amiel’s eyes widened as she took in his appearance.

  First, she noticed her foot once again in his hands’ grip. She grinned, beginning to wonder if Harley had a bit of a foot fetish. He’d touched her feet often while he was Collapsed, he’d held her feet when she was Collapsed, and now here he was again, touching her foot. Coming from anyone else, that might be a bit creepy, but from Harley? Harley made everything endearing.

  Next, she noticed he had his jacket on, but it was open in the front, which gave her a very clear view of his entirely bare chest. What had happened to his shirt? He shifted slightly on the bed, and his pants made an odd, crunching sound. Biting her lip, she slipped forward on the bed, careful not to move him or dislodge her foot from his grip. The back of his pants was caked in mud. Leaning closer, she realized it wasn’t just mud. She lightly touched her fingertips to the denim, and they came away red. Blood. Amiel’s heart jumped into overdrive.

  “Harley? Harley!” She urgently pushed the hair from where it fell across his face, noting his cold, damp skin and hair. He surged upward from the bed, immediately dropping into a defensive position in front of her, protecting her.

  “What? What’s wrong?” He blinked blurrily, eyes settling on her. “Kid? What’s wrong?”

  Amiel rolled off the bed, relieved he wasn’t dead or comatose on her mattress. But the fact of the matter was, he was covered in blood, his skin suggested a fever, and she was still in freak-out mode. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the bathroom before he could object.

  “Kid?”

  She didn’t answer, yanking the lapels of his jacket back so that it slid off his arms and fell to the floor with a heavy thump.

  “Uh… Thumbelina?”

  She continued to ignore him as she walked around behind him. The freak-out kicked up a notch when she found his back covered in a thick slather of dried blood.

  “Thumbelina?”

  She yanked open the shower curtain, turned it on full blast and shoved him toward the tub.

  “What the… okay, okay. Gettin’ in.” He moved willingly, stepping into the hot spray, pants and boots still on. She peered around behind him, watching as the blood washed away. It unveiled a vast array of raised scars zigzagging across the expanse of his back. But none of them were still bleeding. He didn’t complain as her fingers smoothed over the scarred skin. He slowly reached around, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so he could look into her eyes.

  “Amiel.”

  She shook her head, fighting the tears that threatened. “Where are you hurt?”

  “I’m all healed up, kid.” His voice was soft, soothing.

  “No, your pants have fresh blood on them; you have to be hurt somewhere…”

  Harley gently lifted her chin. “I’m fine, Amiel. I promise.”

  She stared up at him, watching the way the water cascaded over his hair and face; he was so patiently standing in a stream of water while she did her crazy act. His eyes reassured her, his grin comforted, and she caved. She jumped into the tub, throwing her arms around his neck. He froze for a minute before chuckling and wrapping his arms around her.

  “Miss me, kid?”

  She squeezed him harder.

  “Guess so.” The grin in his voice brought warmth to her heart that had been cold all week.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Charleen told me she came for a visit a couple times over the last week,” Harley replied. Amiel nodded in the crook of his neck. Charleen’s meditation visits and assurances of Harley’s safety had been the one thing that had kept her grounded.

  “After the lashin’, I Collapsed for a few hours. Then they tossed me out in the Skirts to patrol. I’ve been kinda runnin’ on autopilot since then. I didn’t have a chance to clean up after the lashin’; most of the blood on me is from that. It’s been rainy outside, and a tussle with some Rabes sent me rollin’ down a hill and for a swim in a monster puddle. Guess my pants just didn’t dry yet.”

  She pressed her cheek to his, noting the skin was already warming under the heat of the water. That meant he wasn’t truly feverish, he’d just come inside from the cold rain.

  “So you’re not hurt?”

  “No kid, I’m not hurt.” He grinned against her cheek, and she felt her muscles relaxing as the hot water poured over them both. Her fingers found the scars on his back again, the muscles moving in reaction to her touch.

  “They really did a number on you,” she whispered. Harley shrugged.

  “I survived.”

  She pulled away enough to stare up at him. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I know you’re tough, but I was still worried.”

  “They didn’t let me take anythin’ but my jacket. Didn’t even have time to grab my shirt, much less my phone. And they wouldn’t let me leave till my punishment was fulfilled. Four days of community service in the Skirts.” He grinned shyly, one hand rising to wipe water from his eyes. “Sorry I kinda crashed your place. Probably ruined your blanket.”

  “Blankets can be washed. And you know I have told you to use your extra key for that reason, Harley. You are always free to come and go from here as you please,” she assured him, hands sliding down to his chest as she lowered to stand flat-footed in front of him. He had long ago admitted to having made a
n extra key to her place, just in case. He’d acted like she would flay him for it, but in truth she was relieved. It saved her the embarrassment of trying to give him one herself.

  “I probably shoulda just gone straight back to Foundation and called ya… but,” he said, licking the water from his lips, eyes locking with hers, “I needed to see ya.”

  Her face melted into a big mess of goofy, and he smiled a shaky grin in return, cheeks flushing. “I meant to just stop in and check on ya, but I guess I kinda passed out.”

  “It’s okay — you needed your Collapse foot fetish,” she teased. His nose scrunched up in that cute way of his, face mixed with confusion and humor alike.

  “Say what?”

  “You seem to enjoy touching my feet, especially when Collapses are involved.”

  “I do, don’t I?” The statement seemed like more of a surprised self-realization than a question. He stared hard at her, locking her into that current they shared. When he spoke, she felt every word of it down to her toes.

  “It’s instinctual. It’s how I show my respect and trust, my depth of… intimacy with you.” He swallowed, stepping closer, hands rising to grasp her face. “It means I bow to your will.”

  “You bow to no one,” she whispered, suddenly feeling a little breathless.

  “I do to you.” He picked up a thick, soggy strand of her mahogany hair, pressing it away from her face. “Which explains why I’m standin’ in the shower, mostly dressed.” He grinned softly, and the absurdity of the situation hit her. She threw her head back, laughing so hard it hurt her stomach.

  “Apparently I decided I needed a shower too.” She looked down at her clothes, suddenly grateful she hadn’t been wearing a white shirt. Harley watched her with that gentle grin, his thumb brushing across her lips, quieting her laughter.

  “I love to see that smile.” His eyes shifted upward to meet hers, arctic gaze depthless and utterly unguarded. Harley never let his guard down. The fact that he trusted her enough to do so now took her breath away. He’d been more open with her the closer they became, but he had never fully let the walls down. Now, truly seeing into his soul for the first time, she couldn’t help but think how beautiful it was.