Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2

by Amy Cook

  “I thought it could be sorta like an homage to your first bike. I know ya loved it. But since it got sacrificed to the motorcycle gods of rage, I thought I’d make ya a new one. The paint job’s reminiscent of the one Pop did, but with my own spin on it.” He moved forward, motioning to the bike as he spoke.

  “The first bike faded silver to purple to black, like the night sky as it falls into darkness. This paint job is like the night sky, the galaxy. It’s kinda like life, I guess. The first bike symbolized the fall of your life into a dark place, with the loss of your brother, and the tags doin’ things to ya that ya didn’t understand. Your life slowly faded into confusion and darkness.”

  Amiel soaked up every word he spoke, seeing how much detail and thought he’d put into this project for her.

  “This new bike, with the galaxy aspect, shows that maybe you’re in darkness now, but your life has a vast future ahead of ya that ya haven’t yet explored, and it’s now openin’ up to ya. Your life has a certain kind of darkness to it, darkness that’s part of your world whether ya want it be or not. But there’s a beauty to the darkness, too. A star’s true beauty can’t be seen, except while you’re in the purest dark.” He cleared his throat. “Or somethin’ like that.”

  Amiel’s eyes zeroed in on a section at the front of the bike. One sparkling star gleamed brighter than the rest. And under that star was an elegantly scrawled name: Jaron. Jaron was in her stars, her vast universe, always with her no matter how dark the rest of the world seemed. Amiel blinked, fat tears dropping off her lashes to splash on her hands, still splayed over her mouth. Harley came to stand by her once more, bending to peer up into her face.

  “Kid? Is it okay? I mean, if ya don’t like it, I can always make changes….” He let out an oomph when she suddenly threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, holding him to her as the tears poured down.

  “I love it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Harley. Thank you so much,” she whispered. Harley’s arms wrapped around her, holding her firmly in place.

  “Glad ya like it, Thumbelina,” he whispered softly.

  “You put so much thought and effort into it. You’re amazing.”

  “Well.” He shrugged, uncomfortable with all the praise, lifting her body with the movement. “I just wanted it to reflect the beauty of its owner.”

  She pulled back, staring into his eyes. She had no words, so she tried to say it all in her kiss. It wasn’t a searing, wild kiss. It was a mellow, but soul-deep kiss; a kiss that spoke of her past heartaches and future hopes. When she pulled back, his heart-melting, boyish grin came out to play, brightening his whole face.

  She slid back down to the ground, wiping her tears away as she moved to examine the bike that was now hers.

  “Wanna ride it home?” Harley grinned down at her. She beamed with excitement, more than ready to get that bike between her legs and on the road.

  Chapter 46

  Amiel

  The next day dawned much later in the day than usual for Amiel. In fact, she’d slept most of the day away. Yet despite the late wake-up call, she still felt exhausted when she forced her feet over the edge of the bed. Her groggy mind shifted back over the previous day’s events, trying to pinpoint just what had left her so exhausted today.

  After she had ridden home on her new, beautiful bike, and Harley had gone to fight baddies, Joyce had shown up. She’d brought the items that Amiel had left in the taxi on their unfortunate girls’ night out. Joyce was elated that Amiel was safe and healthy, regaling her with all of her vivid and dramatic fears of Amiel dying and leaving Joyce all alone and lonely. She also carefully poked around for details on Amiel’s genetics, mainly wondering if she was going to grow horns and eat her. Amiel assured her she was thrilled to be alive, thrilled to finally have her boots and jacket back, and had no immediate plans on digesting her best friend. Despite the humorous air to their conversations, Amiel thought Joyce looked a tad too relieved by that last part of the statement.

  To celebrate her not being dead or a blood-thirsty demon, Amiel had pulled Joyce along to enjoy a ride on her sleek new motorcycle. And, while out, Amiel had found an attorney to make Joyce her beneficiary and partner in the Fire and Ash restaurant endeavor, leaving Amiel as more of a silent partner.

  Joyce nearly went into shock, but Amiel insisted. She pointed out she had no idea how to run a restaurant and needed someone there to watch her back. She also pointed out that one never knew when their time in this world would be over, and she didn’t want the restaurant falling into the wrong hands if something happened to her. Joyce had finally relented under those arguments, though still under an obvious amount of distress.

  The restaurant idea was a fairly new one, yes. But the idea was dear to Amiel all the same. The name was born of the inspiration of Jaron’s crest. “We all burn, yet from the ashes gain new strength.” The restaurant symbolized being born of fire and ash, overcoming life’s trials. It was her project to start a new life, and while Amiel knew it was likely wishful thinking, she hoped that the Fire and Ash would be a place that bridged the gap between Hybrids and Cleans. A melting pot for better relations and understanding between the two races. And protecting this fledgling investment was dear to her heart. So bringing Joyce in was a relief, but not for only the reasons she mentioned. While all the reasons she offered were true, Amiel had darker concerns she left unspoken.

  Amiel had no delusions as to whether or not her life would still be her own once Foundation got ahold of her. Long before the ink had touched her skin, she’d known it wouldn’t be. Yet that was a sacrifice she had been willing to make, if it meant belonging, and belonging at Harley’s side. Now, despite Harley’s reaction and reservations to the tattoo, it was still a sacrifice Amiel was ready to make, if and when the time came.

  Still, she felt the driving need to make this restaurant happen. She just didn’t believe she would be there to make it happen. Somehow, she felt that destiny was more out of her hands than ever before, rushing down the road at full speed while she held on for dear life. She needed Joyce there to make sure the Fire and Ash reached its full potential; that the workers under Stint, her friends, were able to have a decent job under their own employment, rather than be stuck with that dirtbag. Amiel couldn’t help but feel that Jaron wanted this. He’d purchased and then left the building in her name. He couldn’t have known she would find herself working in a diner, or even in Texas, for that matter. And yet, somehow, all of this felt like pieces of a puzzle clicking together in a grand design outside of her reach.

  On top of it all, opening the Fire and Ash represented a chance for equal opportunity amongst the Hybrids. Amiel wasn’t entirely certain Foundation wanted Cleans to accept Hybrids. If they did, why would they keep them and their purposes silent? And if Amiel had sole ownership of the restaurant, Foundation might force her to close it down, if it wasn’t in their best interest for Hybrids and Cleans to intermingle. Now, with this new agreement with Joyce, the restaurant was safely out of their reach. Well, legally anyways.

  Amiel yawned loudly, wishing she could crawl back into bed. She had gone to bed early enough. So much so that by the time she had woken up, she’d accumulated the ridiculous amount of fourteen hours of sleep. There was no reason she should still be this tired. Maybe there was such a thing as getting too much sleep.

  “Snap out of it, Amiel. You have a big night ahead of you, and nothing to wear! No time for sleep!” She dragged her feet through the apartment, splashing water on her face several times between getting dressed and eating. She forced herself out the door and headed to the nearest clothing store.

  Any of her clothes would have done, but tonight felt special — not just for her, but for Harley. It was Harley’s first date, the real beginning to this level of their relationship that was new and fragile. She wanted to look perfect for him. Amiel perused the rows of clothes, twisting her hair in indecision. She had no idea what to get. Harley hadn’t specified
where it was that they were going on this date, and at the time she hadn’t thought to ask. Pulling out her phone, she hesitated only a moment before putting it back in her purse. She wasn’t about to fall back on old habits.

  In the past, Malinda had told her that she should always ask her date what he wanted her to wear. Every date she had been on was filled with faceless men and outfits she never chose for herself. She was done with that part of her life. She bit her lip. But what if she chose wrong? She mentally slapped herself.

  “Knock it off, Amiel. The guy likes you for you, including what you’ve been wearing all along. Take your own advice and go on instinct.” A nearby sales rep looked at her in concern, having overheard her little diatribe. Amiel plastered on an over-the-top, cheesy grin, which only sent the woman scurrying away. She was a little ashamed to admit just how much she enjoyed that.

  Finally Amiel found the perfect outfit, purchased it from the skittish sales clerk, and then headed over to the nearest Victoria’s Secret. She blushed slightly as she walked through the room, looking over their underwear selections.

  Now, there was no way Harley was going to see any of these. Sex was something she intended to save until she promised a man her love forever, and had the metaphorical ring to prove it. Malinda had always held Amiel’s V-card hostage, waiting to offer it as a prize to the perfect conquest. Now Amiel had sole possession of her precious card, and she was determined to use it right. She’d seen too many of her social circle “friends”, boys and girls alike, toss their V-card into a physical relationship with someone, thinking it was more than it was. They were dumped and the ex easily moved on to the next conquest, leaving them jaded toward the world, the opposite sex, and their own self-worth.

  Heck, she’d even seen those same people turn around and do the same thing in their next relationships, despite the fact that they were with nice people who were in the relationship for the right reasons. They had become vengeful, eager to hurt someone the way they had been hurt in the past. While Amiel couldn’t picture Harley ever doing something like that to her, or vice versa, she was determined to do it right by the dictates of her heart. Harley deserved that much respect from her.

  Besides, Hybrids had their social circle and ways of doing things. If she were going to be Harley’s mate, she was going to climb any ladders she had to, and earn her place at his side first.

  Really, purchasing this new underwear was more for her own confidence than it was for anyone else to see. She’d heard that just wearing a sexy pair of underwear gave a woman confidence; that even if no one else knew what was under her clothes, she would know, and that was all that mattered.

  Admittedly, Amiel wasn’t too sure that that saying would hold true, because right now, skimming through the mass amounts of lacy and silky material, she felt anything but confident. Finally she just grabbed multiple items in her size and tossed them on the counter before she could look too closely at them and chicken out. She rushed out of the store with her new purchases so quickly she was left a little breathless by the time she made it back to her bike.

  Getting home, Amiel looked at the clock. Three hours. She had three hours before Harley got there. She slumped into her chair. The trip to the VS store must have been more harrowing than she realized, because she was exhausted again. A yawn split her lips, forcing her eyes closed. Only once they were closed, they didn’t want to open again.

  The phone buzzed in her lap, and Amiel jerked upward, groggy and disoriented. The apartment was oddly dimmer than a moment ago, and she had a strange taste in her mouth. Smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth in an effort to dissipate the taste, Amiel glanced at the phone.

  “Hello, beautiful. Date. Six.”

  Amiel grinned at the text, loving that Harley had sent her something so mushy. She wished she could have seen the look on his face when he sent it, wondered if his nose was doing that little scrunchy thing as he second-guessed the manliness of his text. Her eyes caught on the clock on the phone. Letting out a little screech, she lurched from the chair and rushed toward the bathroom. She must have fallen asleep again, because there was only one hour left until Harley was scheduled to arrive.

  She tossed herself into the shower, moving through her shampooing and shaving like a whirlwind. She slipped on the floor, banging her shin on an open drawer as she raced out of the shower and into the bedroom to change. She was so late, she didn’t have time to second-guess wearing the lacy underwear set, or to decide whether or not it actually did make her feel sexy.

  She slipped into her new skinny jeans, loving the way the three stacked lines of golden, horizontal zipper details above the knee added an extra appeal of cute factor. The new, black suede ankle boots followed quickly. She did a few jump kicks and tumbles to double check that she could freely move about in the pants and boots.

  After the fiasco with her outfit at the club the other night, the last thing she wanted was to wear another outfit that she couldn’t fight in. She never wanted to feel that helpless or stupid again. The material of the jeans was stretchy, allowing for ease of movement, and the boots had a flat heel. She’d hate to get in a fight while wearing her new clothes, but if she had to, at least she knew they wouldn’t hinder her abilities.

  Amiel stared at her tattoo in the mirror. While she knew it was dangerous to have it exposed, she couldn’t help still feeling that pang of regret that it needed covering. Pushing the regret aside, she tied a silky, black scarf around her neck, successfully hiding away the wolf.

  Approaching the bed, she carefully pulled on the final piece of her outfit. The red, silken fabric slithered down her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. It was a light and flowy shirt, the sleeves simple straps over each shoulder. The neck line dipped down in a V that was tastefully accentuated by a triangle of lacy black fabric, keeping it sexy, but not trampy. From the front, it felt demure and casual. But in the back, a single strap ran across her back from one shoulder to the other. The rest of the fabric dipped in a draping fashion, leaving a small amount of her lower back exposed.

  It was sexy enough to double as a club outfit, yet still conservative enough for going to a somewhat less casual restaurant. Of course, after the other night, she doubted they would be going to clubs anytime soon. Likewise, she doubted they would be going to any restaurants, as it was too early to sneak into Silas’ restaurant and Hybrids were not welcome in the others. Amiel frowned, grumbling at the injustice of that last fact. Forcing it from her mind, she rushed into the bathroom, quickly blow-dried her hair and frantically straightened the mess.

  Chapter 47

  Amiel

  There was a knock at the door. Smiling at the clock, she realized Harley had come early. She had no idea why he still knocked. He had a key. She'd told him time and again to just let himself in. Of course, she imagined it had more to do with his respectful upbringing than anything. Aside from the time she had woken to find him sprawled on her bed passed out, he still knocked every time. While she would be totally fine with him just waltzing in, she had to admit she kind of loved that he solidly lived by his personal code of gentlemanly dictates. Besides, they were still in tentative territory in their friendship, with this even newer, intimate part of it. He’d start walking in on his own when he was good and ready, and she wasn’t going to push the matter.

  Throwing on a brilliant smile, she pulled the door open, leaning up against the frame in what she hoped was a sexy, but not overly obvious, pose. Her heart nearly burst into a thousand pieces when she found herself looking not at Harley's gorgeous smile, but Malinda Hilden's decisively stormy scowl. Pulling herself up straight, Amiel wrapped her arms around her chest, instantly feeling the need to protect herself.

  “Mother. What... what are you doing here?”

  “What indeed. I imagine I am the last person you were expecting to see, here in this rat’s squalor.” Malinda glanced around, disgust obvious on her pristine features. It rankled Amiel's nerves. This place had become her home, maki
ng her happier than she had ever been while living under her mother's roof. As such, she found herself protective of it. The implied insult in her mother's tone prodded Amiel's ire just enough to remind her that she no longer had to answer to Malinda Hilden.

  Jeller’s face flashed in Amiel’s mind, and her ire shifted into a simmering fury. The darkness within her stirred, pressing for allowance to surface, demanding justice. Amiel fought against it; she couldn’t let that side come out, not now. Because, with the hate she felt boiling inside, she might not stop. And Amiel wasn’t about to let Malinda turn her into her internal mirror image.

  Squaring her shoulders, Amiel set her face to stone, grabbed her jacket and keys from the counter and stepped out into the hallway. The door shut behind her with a firm thud, locks clicking into place at her back. She smiled, already feeling better with the knowledge that her mother wouldn't be able to enter her safe haven.

  “Well, aren't you the snide little creature,” Malinda sneered, moving to block off her path. “Obviously your surroundings have not improved your attitude. The sooner I get you home, the better.” She made a grab for Amiel’s wrist, but Amiel easily sidestepped it. She grinned as the surprise resurfaced on Malinda’s face. Amiel smirked her own silent reply.

  That’s right, Mother, I’m much faster than the last time we met. And that’s not all that has changed.

  Moving around Malinda, she shrugged into her jacket and trudged down the hall without another word. She skipped down the stairs, eager to get away from her mother before her temper got the best of her. She needed to put some distance between them, or she just might flatten her mother's expensive nose job. Malinda, however, seemed to take this as her daughter's easy compliance.

  “Well, I must say I thought it would be more of a fight, getting you to leave this little hovel. We might actually make the train on time.” She grinned triumphantly, trying to keep pace with her daughter.