Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2

by Amy Cook

  “Next time, don’t make me wait so long between visits.” She turned to Amiel, eying her warily. “And you’ve got a girl on your arm, for once.”

  Amiel swallowed hard, forced some steel into her back, and held out her hand.

  “Hello, ma’am. My name is Amiel.”

  The woman hummed, before giving her hand a firm, solid shake. “Nice to meet ya. Take care of my boy, or I’ll clean your clock. Now, let’s eat.”

  Amiel stared in surprise as the woman turned and hobbled back into the kitchen without another word.

  “So, that was Gran,” Harley supplied apologetically. Amiel laughed aloud, tugging lightly at the open collar on his button-up.

  “I can definitely see the resemblance.” She grinned. “That no-nonsense gene is a stubborn one, isn’t it?”

  Harley smiled softly before reaching out to run his fingers through her hair once more, giving it a light tug. “I like your hair this way. It's as soft as it looks.”

  She smiled in appreciation. Then his gaze dropped to her lips, and a jolt of sheer heat shot through her. He swallowed, suddenly looking ravenous. Her lips parted slightly, eagerly anticipating the touch of his own. Cajun’s voice floated back to them from the kitchen.

  “Hurry up, love birds!”

  Harley hung his head, lips moving in his silent patience prayer. Throwing her an apologetic smile, he pulled Amiel along to the kitchen.

  Chapter 49

  Harley

  “Everybody simmer down and bow your heads before I whack ’em,” Gran ordered sternly, holding her wooden spoon up for good measure. Everyone quickly ducked their heads, knowing full well that Gran would keep that promise. Amiel bowed her head at Harley’s side, a small smile on her lips.

  “Dear Lord, we come before thee this day to give thanks for everythin’ we got. We got family, friends, love and good food. We got warmth, clothes on our backs and a roof over our heads. We’re grateful we ain’t lost no one this year to the terrible darkness that plagues this world. We’re grateful for those who fight to keep it that way, and for thy good graces upon our heads. Now we ask a blessin’ on this food so it don’t kill us or cripple us. Amen.” A chorus of amens echoed around the room, followed by a loud din of relatives clamoring for first dibs on their favorite foods.

  “Well, get over here, girl!” Gran ordered, waving Amiel toward her with an impatient hand. “These savages won’t leave a bit of food for ya, if ya don’t dive in. And y’all look like ya ain’t got a bit of fat on them bones. Let’s find somethin’ that’ll stick to your ribs and grow hair on your chest.”

  Harley laughed as Amiel quickly moved to do as the old woman demanded, her eyes wide with surprise. Everyone moved quickly when Gran ordered it.

  The old woman gave him a subtle wink, and he shook his head, mouthing “be nice” to her. Gran waved him off with an abrupt swat to the air and turned her attention to digging out food. Harley couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of the fact that Gran already seemed to be taking a shine to Amiel. He’d heard stories of just how long it had taken Gran to come around with Charleen. Gran loved his brother’s fiancée now, but she hadn’t been so easily coerced back then. Perhaps her old age was softening her. Harley chuckled at himself. Not likely. Amiel just had that way about her. People were drawn to her, both the good and the bad.

  His attention centered on her, watching Amiel interacting with his family. Her cheeks were still flushed under the spotlight of so much attention, yet she seemed to be handling it beautifully. They had kidnapped her the moment she neared, making her sit close to the stove and shoveling her plate full of every item on the menu.

  He had found himself second-guessing the decision to come here, remembering just how overbearing his family could be at times when it came to personal space. He knew Amiel hadn’t exactly grown up with much affection and interaction. He had worried his family would send her running for the door. They nearly made him run for the door, and they were blood. Instead, it seemed like maybe this was exactly what she needed, her face aglow from that inner light he cherished. He was glad she hadn’t let him chicken out.

  His insides warmed, expanded in that odd way they tended to whenever he found himself thinking of her. She took a bite of mashed potatoes, rolled her eyes heavenward and moaned, exclaiming to one of his cousins that the food was out of this world. He felt his lips stretching into a stupid, lovesick grin. He was a wuss. And oddly enough, in this moment, he was entirely okay with that.

  “Stop drooling. You’re making a puddle on the floor,” Cajun cajoled, elbowing him in the arm as he came to stand where Harley leaned in the doorway. Shoving a second plate full of food under Harley’s nose, Cajun turned to watch the display. Even Charleen was laughing along with the group, though he noticed she still held that ever-watchful expression in her eyes as she surveyed Amiel.

  He wondered, not for the first time, what it was that drew people to Amiel. He knew she was amazing, but it was almost something deeper, something on a soulful level. It was no easy task, drawing the likes of Charleen to you. Feeling Harley’s scrutiny, Charleen turned his way, one brow rising in silent challenge, as though to say she didn’t appreciate his speculative tone. Harley shook his head, looking away. It was disconcerting, having two women around who could read him like an open book.

  “Don’t go making googley eyes at mine, either,” Cajun grunted. Harley rolled his eyes.

  “Shut up.”

  His brother shrugged. “Just putting it out there. You’ve been a fair share of weird and crazy all day; I’m just making sure you don’t add stupid to the list, too.” He offered his wide, cheeky grin, mashed potatoes purposely caked on his teeth when he did so. Harley scrunched his nose in disgust.

  “Nasty. Keep it to yourself.” He shoved Cajun’s arm playfully, taking a bite of his own taters. Like a magnet, his eyes were drawn back to Amiel, only to find she was already looking at him. She ducked her head with a shy grin, turning back to the conversation around her.

  “So. It’s official now. Harley’s got a girlfriend.” Cajun rocked back on his heels, entirely too pleased with himself.

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Harley murmured in agitation he didn’t really feel. Cajun chuckled.

  “Like you were going to say it if I hadn’t. I just helped you over a big hurdle, little brother.” Cajun patted him roughly on the back. “You can thank me at your leisure.”

  Harley grinned despite himself. “Idiot.”

  “But I’m a sexy idiot.” Cajun shrugged. “Admit it. It’s hard to hate what you’ve always wanted to be. It’s okay, I understand. You’ve always idolized me. But not everyone can be me.”

  “Thank the stars for that one.” Harley laughed along with his brother, feeling something tight within him uncoiling. The longer he stayed in this house, the more he felt the cares of the world sloughing off his back like a bad molt. He found himself joking back and forth with his brother, cousins and aunts and uncles. His family was huge, and it never failed to surprise him how they all managed to fit in Gran’s house. Yet the little yellow building seemed to expand to fit them all, the noise and cramped quarters fostering playful banter and warmth rather than resentment and frustration.

  Cajun was right; he was being all kinds of weird today. And, for once, he found himself liking the change. He looked to Amiel, knowing what had brought about that change. How could he resent an angel? Harley suddenly sat up straight as Gran’s wooden spoon landed on Amiel’s hand with a loud slap.

  Everyone stopped and stared, eagerly waiting to see the girl’s reaction. Amiel sat wide-eyed for a moment.

  “What’s the matter? That one won’t put enough hair on my chest?”

  Gran threw her head back, bursting out in a gut-deep cackle. Amiel soon joined in, an entirely unfettered laugh issuing from her lips. It made his heart warm just to hear it. Like magic, everyone joined in with the laughter, Gran wiping tears from the sides of her glistening eyes as she chuckled. Turning to find Harley still f
rozen in place, unsure of what to do, Gran held up a wrinkled thumb.

  “She’s a winner!”

  Like ice melting beneath the rays of summer sun, Harley’s muscles relaxed and he leaned back against the doorframe.

  “I thought for sure I was getting both of your pieces of pie when Granny smacked your girl like that. But now she’s golden.” Cajun paused. “ ‘Your girl.’ That’s just weird. Going to take me a while to get used to that whopper.”

  Harley nodded, all in agreement. It put him off balance hearing it. Yet he liked it. Truth be told, he’d thought of Amiel as his for a long time, though in the beginning it had simply been the feelings brought on by protecting his charge. Now the foundation of those feelings was entirely different, bigger, more complicated and yet oddly simple. Harley squeezed his way through the throng to wash his plate off in the sink, thinking as he scrubbed.

  She was his, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. He shuddered, thinking about the news he’d come across earlier today. The Director, head of Foundation, was back in town. Anything that brought that harpy to town couldn’t be good news. He scrubbed harder at the plate, though most of the food had long since been washed away.

  He hadn’t just seen them driving down the road… he’d seen them driving down the road, only two blocks away from Amiel’s apartments. The Director unnerved Harley like none other. In his line of work, he’d been up against things he’d never understand, things that made his skin crawl. Yet nothing had sucker-punched him the way it had the moment he saw the Director’s vehicle so near to Amiel’s apartments.

  Half an hour early to their date, Harley had parked two blocks away, knowing he had about that far of a distance before Amiel’s tags alerted her to his presence. The last thing he wanted was for her to know that he was way early, anxiously biding his time before he could go to her door. She’d think he was a complete basket case — which he basically was.

  He’d been antsy all day, reliving his kisses with the girl over and over in his mind each time he closed his eyes, each time he took a breath. He had longed to see Amiel again: to feel her touch, kiss her lips, stare into those soul-rending eyes. Their training yesterday had been different from usual, yet oddly right. The gym was a place he usually felt more comfortable and level with her; he was able to zone his thought process into training and training only. He was able to look at her more as his recruit than as a girl who had him walking a constant tightrope of foreign needs. But yesterday, after their shift into this new, weird land of relationships? Yesterday had been… kinda great, actually; scary, but great.

  They had sparred like usual. They’d bantered back and forth like usual. No, not entirely like usual. He’d stalked her and made out with her on the floor like an animal. And it had been one of the greatest moments in his life. He’d always felt more… loose around Amiel, but yesterday he’d felt a much bigger shift there. He felt a freedom that he’d never felt before. For lack of a better example, he felt like he imagined a puppy at play with another puppy felt. That energy, the playful instinctual need to rough-and-tumble with someone. It was a sensation of freedom, with a healthy dose of bone-deep yearning.

  Harley had always made fun of Cajun for how much stock he put into a kiss’s importance… he was eating his words now. And that should make him feel like a total wuss. But, somehow, it didn’t. If anything, it gave him an odd sort of new strength. He couldn’t put his finger on it, or explain it even to himself. But he was finding that matters of the heart didn’t always weaken you, as he’d gone most of his life believing. They gave you something new to fight for, and the determination to fight for it with your whole being.

  He’d thought Amiel had pulled down his barriers before, with her friendship. Now, those barriers felt all but obliterated. Which was kinda cool. Kinda nerve-wracking, too.

  Tonight was technically his first date. And he was ridiculously nervous about that fact. He’d spent months with Amiel, seeing her every day. Sure, the girl had always made him nervous, but nothing compared to the prospect of taking her on an actual date. His mind had been devoured by that thought since he’d dropped her off at home yesterday.

  Long story short, he’d been a completely whipped fool since then, hardly worth his salt, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about being okay with that fact. It didn’t help that things had been far too quiet on the Rabid front today, most of the loonies hiding out for some unexplained reason. He’d had nothing to vent his pent-up energy on.

  So, he’d contained himself for as long as he could, and then gone straight to her apartments. He’d parked and paced in an alleyway two blocks away, sweating bullets over what he was just about to do, awaiting his possible doom by date.

  And then he’d gone cold to the marrow when he saw Foundation’s director rolling by his alley, so close to Amiel’s apartments. The only thought in his mind had been “They know. They know about Amiel. Don’t let them know; please let her be safe.”

  He’d jumped on the bike, rushed to the complex. In the short amount of time it took to get there, he’d carefully assessed the situation, adding up the number of obstacles between him and getting Amiel safely away. He’d prepared himself for the end-all battle, knowing nothing would be the same when it was done. He had gone through the contingencies of how he would contact Cajun and Charleen to let them know he was heading out, that they might need to seek safety from Foundation as well. All these thoughts had flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds, spurred onward by the feelings of distress Amiel sent his way through the connection that seemed to grow daily. It seemed their growing intimacy had kicked the bond up to the notch of not needing a close proximity to feel one another’s intense emotions.

  Thankfully, the bulk of his planning and worrying had been for nothing. She was waiting for him outside, safe and whole. He’d entered the complex, eyes searching out any dangers, anything that would pose the threat to cause her earlier distraught feelings.

  Then she’d dropped the bomb on him about her mama showing up, and Harley couldn’t help but feel utter relief. Foundation hadn’t found her; she was still safe. Knowing that, he’d dropped his personal fears of what the Foundation director could be doing back in town so soon. Amiel had needed him in that moment, and he wasn’t about to let his worries hedge in on the night.

  But the scare had definitely made Harley’s worries from the crap with Kyree resurface. They were walking a dangerous path, teetering on the black edges of Foundation’s radar. He felt uneasy, edgy: as if there was a clock ticking over their heads, counting down to Foundation’s discovery of them. He had no illusions of what would happen if they did. And it made him that much more free in his attentions to Amiel tonight, as a result. Time was precious, and he wasn’t about to waste any of their time together.

  He’d brought her to meet his gran, shown his obvious regard for her in front of Cajun and didn’t even deck him when the doofus announced their fledgling relationship to the whole house. If that didn’t show how much he cared for the kid, he didn’t know what would. His only concern had been that he wasn’t sure how that part of relationships worked: if they were considered “official enough” that she was okay with him splashing the news around to his family. But she had handled it well; he’d even felt her pleased emotions floating toward him. So he guessed he had Cajun to thank for taking that step, breaking down that question. Not that he’d tell him that.

  Pushing away from the sink, Harley made his way through the crowd, needing to be closer to her. His burdened heart lifted when Amiel’s glowing face came into view. The world around him slowed as her eyes met his, her bright smile filling his heart the way nothing else ever had. A sudden, stinging slap landed across his backside, and Harley yelped, the spell broken.

  “Ouch! Gran! What did I ever do to deserve that?”

  Gran looked up at him, shaking the spoon. “Never mind that. Take your goofy brother out back and set up the games. Go on, then.” She shooed him away.

  “Geez, G
ran, ya gotta find a different way to get someone’s attention,” Harley mumbled, morosely picking his way through the crowd to collect Cajun. Cajun eagerly followed, not wanting to earn one of Gran’s swats. Within half an hour everyone was in the backyard playing ridiculous games that had become family tradition over the years. Gran even had a piñata set up.

  Amiel’s eyes nervously found his across the crowd when everyone shouted for her to go first. Harley nodded encouragement, sending her hand signals to remind her of the blindfold training they had done off and on at the gym. The flush in her skin told him she remembered all too well. Those moments, even before this newer, intimate relationship began, had always been intense, heated. He offered a foolishly proud grin in return and settled in for the show. His eyes zeroed in on her, silently coaching her as he watched her every move, the way her muscles flexed beneath her skin. He felt himself mirroring her movements as her head listed slightly to the side, listening for the sounds of the swinging tissue-paper coated, cross-eyed goat.

  His pride grew when Amiel swung out, hitting the goat dead on with a powerful, solid hit. The goat split in half, candy showering everyone in the crowd as it spun wildly. The relatives burst out into a rowdy round of cheers and applause, clearly appreciative of her skills. Cajun ran up to Derin, poking fun at him for letting a girl kill his piñata.

  Derin was a cousin around their same age, and the official designated piñata controller each year. And he was notoriously merciless in his tugging on the rope of the piñata. It wasn’t uncommon for this game to take a good half hour before anyone got a solid hit in. It was something he gloated on regularly, and the reason he now pouted, brooding under Cajun’s teasing. Harley watched with a smile as his little hellcat walked up to Derin, handing him a full-sized Twix from the candy stockpile with an apologetic smile. Derin’s pout instantly turned into a grin as he took the candy and pulled her into a playful headlock, ruffling her silky hair.