Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (29 page)

Amiel

Amiel stared down at her phone for the hundredth time. And then Harley’s words rang in her ears for the thousandth time.
“We’re done. Too dangerous.”
His phone had been turned off since then: six days ago. She hadn’t heard a word out of Cajun or Charleen either. Except for the time she sent Charleen a tentative text, asking if they were going to meet up. To which she received a single, abrupt reply.

“No. Stop texting.” 

Shoving the phone into her apron, Amiel pushed the tears back. There had to be an explanation for this. Harley wouldn’t just leave her high and dry. Charleen wouldn’t just cut her off. She hadn’t done anything to break their friendships. Had she? Maybe they were just busy, and here she was bothering them. They had a lot on their shoulders, after all. Her jaw clenched as she stared down at her hands. They shook against the countertop, an uncontrollable tremor that had only been worsening all night. She quickly shoved them under her arms in an effort to hide their seizures when Joyce walked up to the register with a smile. Amiel smiled back, before excusing herself.

She pushed her way into the employee bathroom in the locker room, locked the door and leaned on the sink. That nervous energy was bouncing around inside her head again… the one that signaled her other side was on the verge of going night-stalking.

The week Harley had been forced to stay in the Skirts as punishment, she hadn’t patrolled once. Charleen’s meditation had helped, but it was a huge relief when Harley took her out for a night of patrol. Bringing down that giant had really taken the edge off. But now, she’d been through another week-long dry spell, and her other side was getting seriously miffed. Amiel’s heart was skittering wildly, and she often caught herself on the verge of hyperventilating. Like right now, for instance. Amiel stared in the mirror, gasping slightly at the dilated state of her eyes.

“Knock it off!” she whispered angrily at the reflection. Her pupils pulsed in the mirror, and she growled in annoyance, scrubbing at her eyes. “Don’t do that! It tickles and it’s creepy!” They pulsed again in rebellion. “Uggh! Stop angsting at me for something I can’t control! It’s not my choice that this patrol crap stopped!” 

“If it’s not your fault, why did they leave you?”
A snippy tone sounded in her head, and she wasn’t sure if it was the tags, Malinda’s voice, or Amiel’s own self-consciousness. Amiel gripped her head against the pounding that stirred to life within.

“They didn’t leave me! There has to be some reasonable explanation. There has to be!” She slumped over the sink, splashing cold water in her face. Aside from the Hybrid jitters, Amiel’s heart ached for a whole set of other reasons. She’d looked at the calendar to check her schedule tonight, and the date had jumped out, sucker-punching her. She’d literally doubled over in that moment. As of midnight, it was officially Jaron’s birthday. And, like the great sister she was, she hadn’t even realized it until that moment. What kind of person was she, that she forgot her brother’s birthday, only months after his death? A knock at the door startled her.

“What?” she called out with a shaky voice, wiping her face with a paper towel.

“Hun? There’s a guy out here askin’ for ya.”

Amiel’s head snapped up at Joyce’s tentative statement.

“Should I tell him y’all went on break?”

“No!” Amiel yanked open the door, her smile back in place, hoping it was Harley. The smile sobered when she realized the tags weren’t buzzing. It couldn’t be Harley. Or Cajun. The smile returned. Maybe it was Pell with news. Joyce eyed her carefully.

“Suga… are you okay? Ya look awful pale.”

Amiel danced out of the way when Joyce moved to feel her forehead.

“No. I’m fine. Just… cramps.”

Joyce’s face immediately filled with sympathy. “Sucks bein’ a woman some days, don’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” Amiel muttered, before heading out the door. Her eyes searched the restaurant, finally catching on a blond head, and blue eyes.

“Alexander!” Amiel called excitedly, pushing under the trap door in the counter to wrap him in a hearty hug. Alexander chuckled, clearly taken off guard. Nevertheless, he patted her gently on the back.

“Hello, Amiel.”

She pulled away, blushing but too excited to see a familiar, happy face to contain herself. “Oh, gosh, it’s so great to see you again, Alexander!” 

He cleared his throat, cheeks tinged with red when she pulled away. A couple of people sitting in the booths snickered, and Amiel’s eyes widened when she realized they were his men.

“Oh, I mean Greysen.” She winced, offering an apologetic whisper. “Sorry.”

Alexander shook his head with a grin. “No worries, Amiel. They’re just jealous. The only time a girl is happy to see them, is to see them leaving.” A groan of disagreement chorused from the others, and Amiel grinned, glad she hadn’t gotten him in trouble with his men.

She beamed up at Alexander, feeling a weight lifted from her shoulders at his presence. Over the months since he’d helped her enter the city, she had received one text making sure she had settled in okay, and one letter letting her know that his cell had been destroyed. In this world, unless you were a dealer on the black market, phones were a difficult commodity to come by. Therefore he had sent the letter, knowing it would be a while before he got his hands on another one. She hadn’t heard from him since then, almost a month ago.

“It is so good to see you,” she repeated. “I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you.”

“Unfortunately the military doesn’t rank very high on the list of those in need of cells. We’ve got radios to call in if we need to, and that’s good enough. I’ve been saving up for a new one.”

A girl in the back scoffed, a dark glare on her face when Amiel met her gaze. Amiel’s brow rose, realizing the girl’s anger was directed at
her
. Alexander wrapped an arm around her, protectively drawing her in to his side, motioning at the others.

“You lot go have some fun. We roll out at 0400. Be here or walk back to base.”

The soldiers left with excited cheers, fighting with one another to get through the door. The girl with the dark glare was the last to leave, her gaze burning holes through Amiel. Alexander turned, blocking the girl from view, a bright smile on his face.

“So! I promised to come by and check up on you, and here I am, finally.”

Amiel smiled, putting the angry girl out of her mind. “Thank you for checking in on me.”

“Do you have time to sit and talk?”

Joyce piped up, clearly listening in to the whole conversation. “Of course she does! It’s her break time anyways, ain’t it, Amiel?” Joyce winked, shooing her away. Amiel had already taken her break, actually, but if Joyce was offering another, she’d eagerly use it. Stint hadn’t been in all night, so she could safely get away with it.

“What would you like to eat, Alexander?” Joyce grinned down cheekily at him as he sat.

“Any suggestions?”

Joyce beamed, clearly pleased he’d asked. “Donut dips are a big deal ’round here, if you ain’t impartial to havin’ so much sugar in the middle of the night.”

Greysen laughed, ordering a large plate of donut dips as well as orange juice, a side of eggs, sausage, and biscuits with gravy. Joyce spun away, merrily ordering their food before heading off to the other patrons.

Amiel and Greysen chatted over the casual things most people discuss when first seeing one another after a long separation, or in a new friendship. When the food arrived, he dove into more serious matters.

“Have you found anyone to teach you self-defense?”

Amiel felt her stomach flounder slightly. “Yes. I have. He’s a very nice man. Kind of a soldier like you, actually. His name is Harley. He has a gym just a few blocks from here, and we train almost every day. And it has even helped with the… with the tag issue we discussed last time I saw you.” She glanced around, assuring herself their conversation was still private. Alexander nodded slowly, not sure what to make of her somewhat glum expression.

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes. It is.”

His brow furrowed, as he carefully studied her expression. “But you don’t love the training?”

“Oh, no. I do love it. I love it a lot.” She bit her lips against the burning in her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just having kind of an off day today.”

His head dipped, and he pushed his food around the plate. “Me, too. That’s actually a big reason why I’m here.” His eyes rose to meet hers. “You shouldn’t have to be alone right now.” A lump formed in her throat, choking her. Alexander had come to comfort her on Jaron’s birthday. He’d remembered.

“I forgot until tonight,” she confessed with a quiet whisper, the tears overflowing as she stared at her hands. “I looked at the calendar and it hit me. I was so caught up in my own world, I didn’t even think about it. And now I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Who does that? What kind of horrible person must I be?”

Alexander moved around the booth to sit by her, pulling her into his arms. “Now, now, don’t think like that.”

“But it’s true! How could I be so selfish?” She sobbed.

“You’re not selfish, Amiel. You’re living your life, just like Jaron would want you to. He’d want you to be so busy you got wrapped up in living and forgot the sadness his death brought you. You know he would.”

“He would. And that’s exactly why I
need
to remember him. He deserves more than that.” She sobbed against his fatigues, all the stress and anxiety of the week pouring out in one big mess. He grabbed her a couple of napkins from the box on the table, handing them to her so she could somewhat clean her face up between bouts of sobs. He held her close, though there was nothing but an awkward, brotherly sort of love in that grasp. She found herself wondering if he’d left a sister of his own behind, somewhere along the way. She finally pulled away, dabbing at her eyes.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to just break down on you like that.”

Alexander shook his head sternly, respectfully moving back to his place across the table now that she had control of herself.

“No. Please. That’s why I came. I’ve been wanting to come check up on you; I promised you and Jaron both that I would. But things kept getting in the way. When the date neared, I knew I had to come, no matter the obstacles. I couldn’t leave you alone, not on this day of all days. The men needed time out anyways. It was the perfect opportunity.” He leaned closer.

“And honestly, soldiers lose track of the current date all the time. With so many of our friends dying every day, we don’t much keep track of time anymore. The only reason I remembered was because we shared birthdays. And every year, my grandma sends me a birthday card. The card got here yesterday. Jaron can think we’re both jerks.” He chuckled tentatively, clearly hoping she’d find humor in his joke. She did. Leaning back against the booth bench, she laughed, expending what was left of her emotional outburst earlier.

“Thank you, Alexander. Truly, thank you.”

Her brother’s best friend grinned bashfully, digging into his food.

“Wow. This is really,
really
good.”

“We have the best cook here.” She grinned.

“My compliments to the chef.” He cut another piece of the sausage with his fork and knife, bringing it to his mouth with a mannerly ease.

“You come from money,” she stated bluntly. Alexander choked on his food for a moment, swallowing it down with a gulp of orange juice.

“Excuse me?”

Amiel grinned, pointing at his plate. His cheeks flushed slightly, knowing he was caught. “Jaron used to tease me about the way I ate, too.” He smiled, reminiscent. “He shoveled food in his mouth like a pig, all too happy to throw his manners out the window and laugh in their face. Guess it’s just bred too deep in me to let it go.”

Amiel grinned, easily picturing Jaron shoveling food in his face, just because he knew manners dictated he shouldn’t.

“Not many people from your status end up in the military. How did you end up there? If you don’t mind telling me, I mean.”

“My story isn’t too different than Jaron’s, I guess. I came from money, with parents that were impossible to please, and a profession I didn’t want. Only,
my
dad pushed me into joining. It was his idea of punishment for a son he was so disappointed in that he disowned him.”

Amiel’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Alexander.”

“Don’t be. I found out later he was furious because the profession I turned down was supposed to pull them out of their massive debt.” He drew his thumb across his throat. “Disinherited out of my own fifty bucks. Now he has creditors breathing down his neck, and I’ve got Rabids breathing down mine. I’d say I came out on top.” He offered a wink at Amiel before digging in one of the many pockets of his pants.

“Which reminds me — this came in Jaron’s name before we left the base.” He handed her a thick envelope. Opening it up, she found a letter from Jaron’s old attorney, explaining the deed also included in the envelope. She suddenly remembered the banker telling her that Jaron had left her property in addition to the money, and that someone would be in contact with her about it later. Apparently later was now. While the envelope was in Jaron’s name, the deed itself was in Amiel’s. The letter informed her that she had exclusive rights to the property, that the entire thing was paid off, and listed the address. She showed Alexander, who let out an impressed whistle.