Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (53 page)

“You honestly think your brother would be telling you to wear something so dangerous that you nearly get yourself killed every time you go outside if he was in his right mind?”

“I don’t care! A promise is a promise, and no one will
ever
make me go back on my word to him!” Amiel stood her ground, eyes crazed, practically aflame. Cajun took a menacing step toward them, and Harley shifted Amiel until she stood behind him, prepared to protect her.

“Cajun, stop it. Control yourself,” Charleen commanded sternly, though her voice shook with the effort to maintain her own control.

“They’re a threat to us, Char! They burned me just from touching them. What will they do if we leave them to her?” Cajun replied defensively.

“Don’t be such a baby! Amiel was burned, too, and hers already went away!” Harley growled. He didn’t trust his brother’s current irrational mood. He was reacting purely on instincts, the way any injured animal would react to a threat to his existence.

“Okay, okay! Let’s not get our pantaloons in a twist here, people,” Pell butted in, hands held high in the air. “No offense,” he amended to the girls in the room.

“None taken,” Amiel replied angrily, still leaning around Harley’s shoulder to stare Cajun down like a little hellcat. Charleen ignored him. Pell continued talking, tone calm but commanding in his own way.

“The facts here are quite simple. Promise aside, danger aside, Amiel quite simply
cannot
take off these tags. “

“Why not!” Cajun snapped.

“Here’s the thing. Based on my readings, the way that her body reacted to the tags and vice versa, we’re looking at a symbiotic relationship here.”

“What’s that mean for Amiel?” Harley didn’t like the sounds of this.

“It means that the tags have bonded with Amiel’s body, her mind, her entire system, in a very potent way. The tags rely on her to kill Rabids, and in return they fuel her, give her enhanced strength, skills, and senses, almost akin to your own. She simply doesn’t know how to use them properly yet. However, in the natural order of things, they have become reliant on each other. It’s very possible that if she were ever to take those tags off, something in her psyche could snap. She could go brain dead, or worse. It is very likely at this point, after wearing them for so long, the tags sustain her, keep her healthy and strong. At the very least, taking the tags from her could turn her into a complete raging loony!” Pell threw his hands in the air as if to demonstrate an explosion. Everyone stared at him for a long moment, then at Amiel’s tags. Suddenly Amiel gasped, and Harley was rocked with the sheer wave of emotion pouring off of her.

“If I took them off- it could kill me?”

“Well, yes, it certainly could. Especially if your body was put into any sort of shock from the removal of them, or if it was already in a weakened state. Your organs or limbs could stop working, you could suffer an aneurysm, any number of things could happen that would ultimately result in your death.”

“Oh no. No, no, no, please no!” she whispered. Her eyes bulged wide, sheer terror reflected in their haunted depths as she bent over at the waist, arms hugging her stomach as though she were about to be sick. “I killed him.” The desperate words were so quiet Harley almost missed them.

“What are ya talkin’ about, Thumbelina? Killed who?” Harley tried to grab her arm, but she kept scuttling backward, bent over in that pained way, clutching the tags to her heart. Little alarms on Pell’s computer started going off, and he pecked at the keyboard, gnawing on his lip.

“Her levels are flying off the charts here, guys.”

“He was still alive, he was surviving, he was
surviving
so much longer than anyone else had,” she mumbled to herself. “And then I took them, and he died! Oh, heaven forgive me!” Harley grabbed her arm forcing her to stop retreating, her crazy talk and the alarms on her vitals starting to worry him a whole heck of a lot. Her frantic eyes shifted to Harley, pupils dilated in that strangely entrancing way, grabbing him with nearly physical force. She gripped at his arm with enough strength it actually hurt. “I killed my brother!” The alarms on Pell’s laptop hit a new high, and then she collapsed in his arms, unconscious. Harley looked up, helpless.

“What just happened?”

“She put the pieces together,” Pell muttered. “If what I understand here is correct, her brother held the same sort of symbiotic relationship with these tags. When he gave them to her, he severed that connection. The tags were the only thing keeping him alive, combating the poison in his system. Without them, well…” He shrugged, not needing to say another word. They got it. Harley looked down at his poor fragile charge. What would this new knowledge do to her?

“So it’s decided. We have to teach her how to handle the tags, and we keep the truth of the them from Foundation,” Harley stated resolutely. Cajun and Pell started arguing with him immediately, though Charleen stayed silent, contemplative.

“No, we’re done here!” Harley growled, lifting Amiel in his arms. He leaned aggressively into Pell’s face. “And I swear, Pell, if y’all so much as whisper a word of this in your sleep to
anyone
, I will rip your intestines out through your nose holes.” Pell gulped, finally feeling nervous. The nerd nodded slowly.

“Understood.” Harley turned and walked away. “But wait, I need blood samples!” Pell called frantically after Harley’s retreating form.

“No freakin’ way, Frankenstein. This experimentin’ on her, this entire thing, is over. Y’all understand? No more! I never want her to hear from either one of you on this matter again.”

“Where are you going?” Charleen asked.

“She can’t wake up here. She needs to be somewhere- somewhere else,” he grumbled, Hybrid temporarily distancing him from everything but the need to take care of his charge. Charleen appeared at his side, and his lips lifted into a snarl, sure she would argue with him. She gave him a look. The one that lifted her left brow and let him know she wasn’t impressed.

“Stop it. Let me help. Besides, how are you going to get out of here without your bike?” Her authoritative tone took most of the bluster from his Hybrid, just enough to allow him to think clearer.

“Fine,” Harley mumbled, heading outside.

“Charleen!” Cajun called after them. She turned and gave him the same stern glare.

“You need to evaluate yourself,” was all she said to him before they exited the building. Harley climbed into the passenger seat, Amiel nestled snuggly in his lap. Charleen started the car, driving away from the warehouse.

Cajun

He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up bad. His jaw clenched as he heard the wheels of his SUV peeling out in the gravel, leaving him in the dust. Even Char was pissed at him. He thought back to the feeling of a freshly gained sort of respect that his fiancé felt for Amiel, when he and the girl had been arguing. That was likely a portion of what had sent him over the edge. The girl had gained Char’s respect so easily, when Charleen’s regard was never easy to gain. Char was pretty much anti-everyone. It had taken Cajun a long time to get his beauty to warm up to him. And even longer for her to warm up to Harley. And even now there were days she wanted to behead the both of them. His Hybrid had felt a ridiculous sort of dent to its pride, jealousy even, knowing his mate had so easily found that respect for this girl. And not just any girl, but the girl who could very easily sign their death warrants, simply by existing. That had been the last straw.

Her simple existence meant that all he held dear could be snuffed out, without a single second of guilt on Foundation’s conscience. His Hybrid had bridled at the knowledge that all this time he’d been encouraging his brother to schmooze with the enemy. They had been blindly protecting the key to their annihilation. His instincts had flared, his fury right along with it.  Temper was a big problem for him. The brain cancer, and the surgery that ended up cutting out a large chunk of it, had screwed up his brain in the first place. And when the Hybrid DNA was introduced, things got a whole lot more interesting. His moods were everywhere, and he couldn’t always make the connection that meant putting those moods in their place; connections that a normal brain like Harley’s could easily make. Which was why his brother had a firmer grip on his Hybrid nature, and Cajun’s Hybrid got the better of him far too often. It was a hard wiring problem out of his control, but it was a dangerous one that the three of them had been working hard to keep from Foundation’s knowledge. He put on a good show of calm and humor, but if they knew how close he was to flipping his switch most of the time, they would have put him down long ago.

When Pell had laid it out for them, all Cajun could think about was his need to secure their survival. He’d zoned in on those tags, the weapons just waiting for the user manual to be cracked open. When the girl had refused to turn them over, when the tags themselves had zapped him, his instincts saw it as an outright cry of war. He’d gone on the rampage shouting at the poor little bird like a maniac.
Then
, it had seemed like the right thing to do.
Now
with the lack of blood pounding in his ears, he felt like a Grade A Bounce.
Bullying a little girl
. Cajun shook his head. Charleen had been right. This was an entirely new low for him. He’d pushed Harley to find a friend, someone he could talk to, because he was worried about his brother, yes. But also because he was worried that he wouldn’t be around much longer himself. And when Cajun was gone, Harley would need someone new to play the loyal bodyguard for. It was in the guy’s blood, and he’d be lost with no one to look after.

“You really lost it back there, Aussie,” Pell muttered, pushing the glasses up to sit in his spiky hair.
Pell
. Cajun watched his secret confidant as he began packing up his supplies. They had a strange sort of friendship. Cajun had secretly gone to Pell as a last resort, when he’d first realized his brain was still short circuiting despite the change. He’d been desperate. It had begun with threats and contraband being exchanged in return for the guy’s unprecedented brain power. Cajun threatened him, gave him tidbits of insider information and stories of his missions, parts or instruments he needed for curiosities and experiments that Foundation wouldn’t fund, all to ensure his silence. Pell also flourished in the knowledge that he was only person in on this secret task, brought to him by the second highest ranking Hybrid. And in return, Pell put his efforts into helping Cajun find ways to control his inner demons.

Pell was truly a genius. No one gave him credit for much, seeing him for only the geeky and meek demeanor he wore. Foundation knew his potential, of course, which was why he was even working for them. But they saw him as a pawn and little more. Pell was known to be a bit scatterbrained, and definitely hyperactive. Foundation kept him on lower level work where they felt he could do more good than damage. In the beginning Cajun had seen him the same way. But then their alliance had morphed into an odd sort of friendship.

Pell may be scatterbrained and goofy, but he was also a nice kid with a yearning for adventure and friendship. And surprisingly enough, if you gave him compassion and good stories, the guy became a decent and loyal friend to have at your back. He was also a bit of an unabashed Hybrid fan boy, making him one of their biggest supporters. Cajun trusted him almost as much as he trusted Harley and Charleen. That is why he’d brought him in on this little mission of his. He had told Pell about Amiel back when Tandy had first talked with them. He thought the inner geek in Pell would scream like a little girl over the idea of dog tags turning a chick into a Rabid-killing ninja. He hadn’t really believed the story then, and felt it was just a harmless story to share. But when Harley had told him about seeing the girl kill the three Rabids with his own eyes, Cajun had begun to wonder if his dad hadn’t been spinning a story just to put Harley in a position to fall for the girl. Pell had been throwing out millions of ideas since then, jabbering excitedly over it nonstop. Pell had been out of his mind with excitement when Cajun sent Char to collect him that morning. He’d been overjoyed to know he was getting yet another secret mission and adventure to work on.

Cajun frowned, feeling the guilt eat away at his gut again. Since their friendship had to remain secret, Harley and Char knew nothing about it. He’d had to make up several different stories that morning, working around his lies. He thought for sure Harley wouldn’t buy into the lame cover story he’d made to explain Amiel’s existence and Pell’s willingness to help. But thankfully Harley and Charleen were still in the dark. And Cajun wanted to keep it that way. If they knew about the friendship, they’d know about the true depth of Cajun’s ticking time bomb. He didn’t even want to think about the lies he’d told Char.

“Yeah, I went a little wonka, I know,” Cajun admitted, leaning tiredly against the table.

“You know Foundation will completely freak if they find out about Amiel and her tags, don’t you?”

“Which is why we are going to make sure that they don’t find out.” Cajun patted Pell on the shoulder and walked toward the mess of Rabids on the floor. “You might want to start looking for a new helmet, Einstein.” He nudged the mangled helmet with his booted toe.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding about that one,” Pell agreed as he started removing something from his laptop. “And to think! I’ve been waiting for you to spoon-feed me any details about her and those tags, when I myself had already met her!” Cajun pursed his lips.

“So she was right, she did know you?”

“I was at the diner on her first day working. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to go back since then. Of course, I didn’t know who she was or what she could do til today!” He pointed at the mangled helmet on the floor. “If I had only known, I would have made a point of going back more often and holding conversations with her that didn’t involve me blabbering about my Viking ancestors.”

“You’d still blabber about that,” Cajun muttered, grasping the helmet. “I might have to get me a helmet,” Cajun mused. “They look like a lot of fun.” He turned at the sound a power drill, watching with a smirk as Pell began drilling holes in the thing he’d just popped out of his laptop.

“So why did you tell her you
didn’t
know her?”

“Perhaps you missed the part of my story about blathering on and on about my Viking ancestry? Not the best impression you want a girl to remember.”

“That didn’t stop you from blathering on about trying to steal a cow’s milkginity.” Pell frowned in thought at that.

“Ah…yes. There was that. It came out sounding quite different than I intended.” He sighed, continuing his drilling. “Besides, you saw the way Harley was looking at me. He probably would have shredded me if he knew I’d met Amiel already.” Canjun nodded. His brother definitely held a strong protective instinct toward the bird, and his instincts didn’t need the threat of false competition, especially when that competition was involved with Foundation. Cajun winced. Harley’s dislike for the guy had likely doubled now that he thought Pell was a perv. Pell would be horrified to know that Cajun’s lies had included telling Harley that he was into granny porn of all things. He’d break that bit of news to the poor guy later. For now, his eyes zeroed in on the object in Pell’s hands, the drill finally falling silent.

“What are you doing anyways?”

“Drilling holes in my hard drive. When we burn the rabid bodies, we’ll toss this in there with them. It’ll destroy all the readings and evidence I took today. No more trail to Amiel.” Cajun nodded, pursing his lips.

“Not bad, Einstein, not bad.”

“It’s a pity to destroy such astounding knowledge, though.” Pell lamented.

“It’s not destroyed, it’s locked up there in that oversized melon on your shoulders, just like everything else,” Cajun teased, earning a goofy boyish grin from his confidant. Pell was oddly proud of his oversized head. “Now, let’s have us a bonfire.”

“Want a ride somewhere after this?”

“And ride on that goofy moped? I don’t think so.” Cajun laughed as Pell wiggled his eyebrows.

“The ladies love it.”

“Sure they do. Let’s get this bash going. I’ve got apologies to make and Rabids to kill before the day’s over.”

“So cool.” Pell grinned cheekily, idolization in his eyes. Cajun laughed, giving the kid a noogie before grabbing the gasoline.