Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (52 page)

“What in the name of Midgard is she doing?”

“Here we go again,” Cajun murmured, voice awed and strangely eager. Amiel’s other hand reached to her back, pulling out a gun. The first Rabid went down, then the second, both victims to Amiel’s well aimed shots. One helmet strap held tightly in her hand, it whirled around and around at her side, gaining momentum with each spin. The first Rabid reaching her received a hard smack with the helmet, making a popping sound that could be heard even in their tiny box. The hit dislocated the Rabid’s jaw, its scream of agony quickly cut off with the resounding echo of a bullet being shot through its skull. She turned then, running to jump kick another Rabid in the nose, sending it the ground, nose completely flat and gushing. She used the momentum of that kick to push off, somersaulting in the opposite direction. Coming up in a crouch just in time to slam another rabid in the junk with the helmet, she blasted it in the head with the gun, then swiftly spun on the balls of her feet to slam the helmet into a female’s legs. Amiel rose to her feet, shooting the female in the head as it stumbled by.

“What is it with this girl and helmets?” Cajun murmured. Harley’s hybrid suddenly roared in anger. One of the two remaining Rabids attacked Amiel, body slamming her to the ground. The gun flew from her grip, aviators jerked from her face with the movement. Harley slammed past Cajun, flying out the door the moment Amiel’s feet left the ground. He watched in what felt like slow motion as Amiel used the backward motion of the Rabid’s attack, his aviators audibly cracking on the ground beneath their combined weight as they rolled to a stop. Amiel ended up on top, sitting on the rabid, legs pinning its arms to the ground. The helmet slammed down on the Rabid’s face until it lay still beneath her. But the effort took too long. The second Rabid pounced on her from behind, head descending to her neck. Harley let out a savage yell, shooting it in the back on the head, crumbling it to the ground. He skidded to a stop at Amiel’s side, slipping in the mess on the floor.

“Amiel, are you alright?” He gripped her arms, shaking her slightly. “Come on, answer me darlin’.” Her eyes shifted to meet his and his breath stopped. The kid’s pupils were huge, the edges branching out into that elaborate crisscross pattern Cajun had mentioned. But what stopped him short wasn’t the appearance of them, but the paralyzing sensations rolling through him as he stared into those deep lustrous eyes. There was something in their depths, something dark, seductive, and entrancing. He had no idea what it was that called to him so, but his Hybrid was frantic in its need to immerse itself in it. It pulled him in, made him want to lose himself in those dark expanses. It made him want to hold her close and lose himself in the embrace of lips, and hands. His mouth watered, muscles tensed, heart raced. She shivered, lips parting, drawing his gaze from those hypnotizing eyes. He shook his head, trying to break free of the fog that gripped his sanity. Shoving her hair to the side he frantically examined her neck, terrified of the results. He couldn’t kill her. He
couldn’t
do it. If she were infected it would destroy him, inside and out.

Her neck, like the rest of her, was splattered and smeared with blood. But when he rubbed it away there were no wounds beneath it. He checked every inch of her exposed skin, checking the skin beneath the two rips in her clothes as well. Nothing. No wounds. Again she’d escaped unscathed. But if he hadn’t gotten there when he did…

He pulled her to stand with him, wrapping an arm protectively around her, holding her close. She held him too, nose pressing to his shirt, deeply drawing in his scent. He swallowed hard, giving her a squeeze, heart still in danger of bursting from the sheer panic he’d just undergone.

“Thought I told ya not to break my shades, kid,” he grumbled, oddly feeling the need to say
something
, though his voice broke under the torrent of emotions tumbling around inside him. She leaned back to look at him, a mischievous little grin quirking the corners of her lips before she went completely limp in his arms, head flopping back. He drew her limp form closer, listening to her slow breathing, rocking slowly side to side and not caring if he looked like a complete sissy. Damn those tags and damn his brother! Between the two of them, they’d end up getting her killed.

He needed to fix this, he needed to find a way to keep this from ever happening again. Of course he couldn’t exactly get rid of his brother, though at the moment it sounded awfully tempting. That left removing the tags to keep her safe. But how could he ask her to get rid of the last gift her dying brother had given her? And did he even have the right to ask? Amiel was his charge, and he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe. But she was also his friend, and a tenderhearted kid. He could never force Amiel to do that, and he knew without a doubt that she would never turn those tags over. She’d known this entire time that those tags were a risk to her. Yet her devotion to her brother was so strong she was willing to face those chances, if it meant keeping her promise. He’d felt the power of that devotion emanating from her when Pell had asked her if she ever removed them. That kind of devotion wasn’t something easily given up. And he couldn’t- wouldn’t- be the one to make her. Harley sighed heavily. He was going to have to step up his game on running interference though. What happened tonight…that could never happen again. He’d almost lost the little termite, and he’d only been feet away.

And now, on top of all this, something
else
had changed in their relationship. He didn’t understand how or why but when they’d locked gazes, something within her had connected with his deepest darkest parts. As sappy as it sounded, it felt almost as though he’d stared straight into her naked soul, and now it owned him. His Hybrid side made no effort to deny what had happened, no effort to deny the change. Whatever had happened, his Hybrid was now locked to her, and it seemed entirely fine with that fact.

“Harley. Is she okay, mate?” Cajun asked tentatively, cautiously approaching with Charleen at his side. They stopped cold at the shriveling look he sent their way. Heavy silence hung between them, the atmosphere rife with the knowledge of what had nearly happened, and that something had changed. “I’m sorry, Harl,” Cajun whispered, looking sorrowful.

“Not. Now,” Harley growled through clenched teeth. He was on the edge of losing it. The fact that he had to support Amiel’s weight was about the only thing keeping him from doing just that. Amiel stirred against him, drawing his attention back to her. She still lay weakly in his arms, but her neck regained enough strength to look up at him.

“Har-Harley?” Her voice was confused, weak, and it cracked like she had just woken from a long sleep. He smiled down at her, rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

“Hey, kid.” Her answering smile was blinding. Pell wandered out of the little room, stumbling slightly as he poked away at the laptop supported in one arm.

“This…wow…I mean these readings…just…wow!”

“So, Einstein? What is it? What’s the verdict?” Cajun asked tightly. Harley hoped the findings were important enough to constitute the risks.

“I’ve never seen something like this before. The tags…” He shook his head. “The technology on these things is mind blowing. Whoever created them is the
real
Einstein.” He looked at Amiel, glasses edging down his nose slightly. “How’s the memory?”

“I…I remember telling Harley I would be fine, and watching him walk to the safe room.”

“That’s all?” Pell asked, curious. Amiel thought for a moment, face scrunching up with her efforts.

“Nothing else. Just blackness,” she confessed tiredly, a tinge of anger hovering below the surface. Harley felt her frustration burning into and intermingling with his own, her emotions crystal clear to him now.

“Well, these readings are insane. Watch this.” He tapped in a few buttons, and video began playing across the screen. It was an internal diagram of Amiel’s body, her veins, bones, brain, muscles, all the inner workings.

“Now, this video is of her while she was doing the jumping jacks. Pretty normal, no big deal. But this, this is when the Rabids approached.” He hit fast forward. Suddenly bright colored lights began streaming up and down her body, originating at the neck. “You see that? Isn’t it astounding?” Pell exclaimed, gesturing animatedly at the screen.

“Those lines of color are the electrical impulses sent directly into Amiel’s nervous system from the tags. The impulses are sent shooting from the tags, upward along the chain, into the clasp where it rests directly overtop the spinal cord. The clasp then emits this electrical current into the spinal cord. Those electrical impulses shoot to her brain, telling it what it is to do, how to react.” He pointed to the colors shooting downward.

“These other impulses shoot to her limbs and organs,
completely
bypassing the brain’s need to command. The tags do it
for
the brain, commanding the body with their own directions. It sends jolts of electricity to the heart, kick starting it into a frenzy to keep up with demand. The adrenal glands release mass amounts of adrenaline that allows the body to move at higher speeds, swifter reaction times, to move and attack with more power. There’s no hesitation because it’s in complete and total attack mode and the cognitive thought process isn’t involved in the limb’s reactions at all. The brain is disconnected from it all. No regret, no doubts, no traumatic damage to the psyche, just action! That would also explain why she has no memory of her actions once the tags take over, by the way!” The glasses slid to the tip of his nose in his excited exclamation. He quickly pressed them back into place. “Now, look here. Look at her brain. Right there, see it? Tell me you see it, too?” he asked excitedly. Cajun stared at it dubiously.

“The way her brain kind of looks like an image of Elvis Presley at this angle?” Pell exhaled explosively at that statement, rolling his eyes.

“No, no! The actual chemical makeup of the brain has been changed. The actual physical formatting of it changed to look strikingly similar to-”  Harley’s eyes widened.

“Ours.” That would explain the changes in her genetic makeup that his glasses kept picking up.

“Yes! Yes, exactly it!” Pell jumped up and down, pointing at Harley. Charleen’s brow furrowed.

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know! But the beauty of it is breathtaking!” Pell shouted, nearly dropping the laptop in his excitement. His lips were stretched into such a huge smile Harley was shocked that they weren’t splitting. “Whoever did this holds the key to our future. If these tags could be mass produced, we could create an army of
Cleans
with the potential abilities to fight
alongside
you. An army with the same tactical instincts, but without the dangerous mixture of Rabid DNA that interferes with their humanity. There would be no more need for Hybrid birthing. Think of the implications!”

Harley stared at the image of Amiel’s brain. They would have an army of people just like Amiel. Their humanity intact but with the abilities to fight like Hybrids, senses activated to the heightened sensitivities, reaction times, and speeds. There would be no more Hybrids created, no more need to put them down when they broke.

“No,” Cajun growled angrily. “That’s a dangerous idea, Pell. It is our Rabid DNA
and
lack of connection with our humanity that allows us to kill as we do. And you’ve seen the effects it has on
our
mental stability, despite our being
created
to withstand it. I don’t buy that it has no effect on her psyche, either. Look at her and tell me this whole thing doesn’t affect her!” Cajun glowered, the very ideas suggested by Pell infuriating him. “Besides, in the end it comes down to this fact. Heightened senses and abilities or not, without the Rabid DNA they are still
Clean
s. That means they are still susceptible to infection. Can you imagine these tags in the hands of an infected? They’d slaughter us. We’d be putting the keys of our complete destruction right in their hands.”

“Yes, I suppose that could be the case,” Pell admitted, downcast. “But perhaps, given time, we could find a solution to this problem.”

“I have a better solution,
right now
,” Cajun stated, walking toward Amiel. “We take them off and destroy them. Problem solved.” Amiel and Pell both shouted “No!” just as Cajun’s fingertips brushed across Amiel’s dog tags. Cajun yanked his hand back as if burned, an audible hissing sound emanating from the tags, a thin stream of steam rising from their surface. Amiel gasped, pulling the tags away from her skin, a red welt rising beneath it. Her knees buckled slightly beneath her and Harley quickly lent her his support once more.

“What the hell was that for!” Cajun shouted, nursing his reddened fingertips.

“I don’t know! I didn’t do it, I swear! They just…I don’t know! They’ve never done that before,” Amiel explained helplessly, tears in her eyes. “Please, just
please
don’t try to take them from me! I made a promise to my brother, I can’t ever take them off!” Cajun turned on her, Hybrid fully exposed in his eyes; exposed and thoroughly ticked off.

“He was sick, Amiel! He wasn’t even in the right mind to have asked you to make that promise!”

“Yes he was! He knew what he was asking me! I know my own brother!”

“Stop yellin’ at her!” Harley growled at Cajun, pulling Amiel closer. Cajun snarled, ignoring Harley.