Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (37 page)

“An infected was inside. Near the door,” Harley accused.

“Yes.” Don shifted uncomfortably. “This is the first infiltration we’ve had in five years. I assure you it won’t happen again.” With that, the man spun on his heel and headed back to the relative safety of his guard box. Clearly, from Harley’s glower, he wanted more answers from the retreating man. Yet he made no move to stop him, turning to pull Amiel closer instead.

“You okay, kid? Did ya fight it?”

Amiel shook her head, leaning into his strong arms and reveling in the calm of his scent. “No, I was inside.”

“You’re shakin’, and I can smell somethin’ in your scent…,” he mumbled, an edge of worry in his tone. She grinned as he tried to sniff the air and muttered a curse of frustration. “Doggone cleaner’s screwin’ up my nose. Can’t get a clear read on anythin’.” His eyes turned to her for the answers his nose couldn’t offer. Amiel released a heavy breath, readying herself to plunge in. She wasn’t going to lie to him.

“My mother found me. She was here just before you.”

Harley relaxed his shoulders, relieved that there was no imminent attack. His eyes grew less dangerous, and more concerned.

“You’re worried about it?”

“My mother is… complicated. She’s vengeful and not used to being denied what she wants. I’ve never denied her before.”

“Denied her? Sounds like she’s a dictator or somethin’.” Harley chuckled, though his eyes watched her reactions carefully.

“She is,
was
, the dictator of my life. I dressed exactly how she told me, wore my hair and makeup how she wanted it. I never stepped out of line once.” She paused, taking a step back from his arms. She felt the need to distance herself from his grasp while she admitted the next ghosts of her past. She didn’t think she’d have the courage to admit it, otherwise.

“You know how you said you had no experience with women?”

He nodded slowly.

“Well, I’ve got enough relationship experience to last the both of us a lifetime.”

He went very still, watching her closely as tears welled in her eyes.

“For years, I went on a date every other night with some jerk she picked out for me. I was the perfect little slave. I dressed how they wanted me to, kissed every single one of them like I was told to. She said it was my way of thanking them for wasting their time on me; that it gave them some incentive to marry me when I turned nineteen. That, of course, would result in more money and power for her. If I didn’t kiss them whenever they wanted it… well, we’ll just say the punishment I’d face at home was worth enduring a thousand horrid kisses.”

Harley’s eyes turned stormy. She rushed on in an effort to get it all out before she lost her nerve.

“She had them all lined up, trying to decide who would best suit her monetary needs and ambitions for power. She wasn’t pushing me to have sex with them yet, because she hadn’t found the one she wanted me to pursue to the altar. I think she was very close to finding her match, though. She was always schmoozing with three particular families, and my dates with their sons were becoming more frequent. It was only a matter of time before she told me to start offering more than kisses. And honestly… if everything hadn’t happened with Jaron and the tags… I don’t know if I would have had enough courage to tell her no.”

Amiel bit her lip, staring at the zipper of his jacket. She hated how cowardly she once was. During her time in Dallas, she hadn’t truly realized how far she’d come. Now, looking back at her old life, facing the reality of who she once was, the person she would no doubt have become if she hadn’t left when she did… it was staggering. But would her growth now make up for her past? Harley took a step closer, anger rolling off him in waves.

“Your mama put ya in danger like that? All for a chance at money and power?”

Amiel froze. She’d never thought of it that way before. The money and power, yes, but never the danger. She wasn’t sure how she’d never thought of it. Only that it must have been the naivete of her upbringing that kept her from realizing the full danger. The only danger she’d sensed was knowing she’d end up married to a man she quite likely hated: a slave to the end.

She’d never considered the dangers of infection through kissing. Surely Malinda had been fastidious about ensuring the men weren’t infected before taking her out? Amiel reached behind her back, grabbing a length of hair and twisting it. The truth was, after Jeller, she really had no idea what her mother was capable of. She liked to think at the very least Malinda wouldn’t have risked destroying the precious family name, nor the pawn in her bargaining games. Would she? Amiel shook her head. None of that mattered now. All that mattered to her in the world was standing before her. And she was terrified of what his opinion of her was.

“I’m sorry.” Her whispered words hung heavily in the air.

“Sorry? For what?” Harley asked, confusion crunching his brow.

“I should have told you sooner, about my past. That part of my life, the old me, it just feels so foreign now. I was a different person then. But I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to run for the hills.”

Harley stepped forward, instantly pulling her into his arms.

“I ain’t worried about that, kid. I’ve never asked ya about your past; hell, I’ve never even asked ya what your last name is. But that ain’t because I don’t care. It’s because it wouldn’t change an ounce of what I feel for ya. I’ve always figured that someday you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me everythin’, but until then I ain’t gonna push ya for it. Names don’t make a person.” He pulled back enough to lift her chin, his arctic eyes devouring her.

“Everybody’s got a past, kid, and most of ’em ain’t pretty. But it’s our pasts that take us down the road to bein’ who we are today. And I like who ya are. I can’t be angry at yesterday for makin’ ya the better version of yourself today. If I’m angry at anythin’, it’s the way your mama treated ya. You were just a prisoner in your own kind of war, then. And as far as I’m concerned, none of them kisses count.”

“Really?” She looked up at him, hopeful. It had to be too good to be true. How could one man be so wonderful and forgiving, understanding? He nodded, sincerity reflecting toward her through the bond.

“Really. Unless, of course,
you
wanna count ’em?” His soft smile took on an air of mischief.

“No!” She shuddered. “No way! It was like making out with one giant, grabby, slimy octopus after another. Your kisses have all but wiped the trauma of their memories from my head. Thanks for that.”

He offered a cocky grin, resting his forehead on hers. “You’re still worried about somethin’. I can feel it,” he murmured.

“Now that she has found me, she won’t hesitate to keep bullying me toward her whims.”

Harley nodded, looking toward the gate, worry creasing his brow. Amiel put a hand to his cheek, drawing his attention.

“But I’m more afraid about what she’ll try to do to you.”

“Me?” Harley asked in surprise. “Maybe she’ll like me.” Harley winked.

“She’s dangerous. More dangerous than I once thought. She’s killed people. Literally.”

Harley’s brow creased, eyes flaring with protective darkness.

“I always knew she was a bully and a terrible person, but a friend who came to visit me while you were gone confirmed worse. His name is Alexander Greysen, a soldier that was friends with my brother. He checks up on me once in a while.”

Harley’s eyes sharpened. “Greysen; I’ve heard that name before. There’re times we run into soldiers on our own missions. If words speak true, he’s a good guy.”

“He is. He came to town so I wouldn’t be alone on Jaron’s birthday.”

Harley’s eyes took on a hint of regret, and guilt filtered through the bond.

“Don’t feel guilty about not being there. You were doing something much more important, and you didn’t even know about the date’s importance.”

Harley sighed heavily, thumb rubbing across her cheek, letting the matter go for now. “What did he tell ya?”

“He told me they had very firm suspicions that my mother killed our butler. He was a good friend of mine, and apparently Jaron’s. He was a soldier, but came undercover to look out for me because Jaron was worried about me.” Her eyes narrowed angrily as she thought back on the conversation with her mother.

“I confronted her on it, and she didn’t even bother to contradict me. I saw it in her eyes, how much she enjoyed killing him. She knew we were close, and she hated it. And that makes me worry about what she will do, if she finds out that I have someone else I care for much more.”

Harley’s eyes softened, and he rubbed a thumb across her bottom lip. “You sayin’ ya like me, kid?”

“Maybe. I’m not telling you,” she teased, pressing closer.

“Pretty sure I could get an answer outta ya.” Harley’s eyes darkened in that way she loved, their connection practically purring with pent-up need to show her the ways he could get those answers. She shuddered, delicious goose bumps skittering across her skin.

“We’ll figure this out; weather the storm together,” he promised, voice gentle, though the Hybrid in his eyes was fierce with its own promise.

“Are you sure you don’t want to run for the hills?”

“I ain’t too keen on runnin’, remember? And I’m never runnin’ from ya again,” he promised, hands falling to her waist, holding her to him. “Besides, mothers are always a lil crazy, kid. Seems to be a requirement these days.  No amount of crazy’s gonna stop me from bein’ with ya.” His smoldering eyes gripped hers as his hands shifted; one lingering at her hip, the other moving to toy with the metal tab of the zipper at her throat.

“Don't you go worryin’ your pretty little head about your ma, Thumbelina. I’m tougher than hell, and I’ve got a bunker full of better weapons than her, too, I’d wager. Best of all, I got this pretty cool little sidekick. We can take her.” He winked, a proud glimmer in his eye. Amiel’s shoulders relaxed, and she leaned forward, letting her forehead fall against his chest. She melted into him as he carefully draped his arms around her, surrounding her with his warmth and scent. Releasing a contented sigh, she snuggled closer. He chuckled.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me now, kid. We ain’t even had the turkey yet.” Placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her back toward their bikes. She didn’t miss the way his careful eyes darted about their surroundings, always ensuring they were safe. If she weren’t so in tune with him, she likely would have missed it. But his never-ending vigil, his constant, seemingly unconscious, surveillance of their surroundings, was one of the many things she loved about the big lug. She never had to doubt her safety when Harley was near.

“Did you say we’re having turkey?” She grinned up at him.

“Yep, best derned turkey in the country.” He stopped at his bike, hesitating. “Ride with me tonight?” His request was quiet, questing. She loved that he was always so careful not to stomp on her independence. The only time he’d ever come close to stomping it was over the matter with the tattoo, and she understood why he had.

“Sure. As amazing as my bike is, it will be nice to have a space heater on the ride over.” Nervous butterflies flopped around in her stomach as he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to her nose before grabbing her new helmet and sliding it down on her head. His nose scrunched in that entirely adorable way of his as he concentrated, fastening the straps beneath her chin.

“So where are we going?” She spoke in a muffled tone through the visor. He smiled, popping her visor up.

“Say what?”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Harley chuckled, swinging a leg over the bike and then offering a hand to her. She stared at it for a long moment, feeling her cheeks flush. It was a simple gesture, a gentlemanly one. But somehow the playful air evaporated with that one movement and she found herself wrapped up in that heavy atmosphere, thick with unspoken and longed-for things. Very softly placing her hand in his, she swept her gaze upward to meet his.

He stared back at her with those dark Hybrid eyes, intense and heated. Other hand rising to touch his shoulder, Amiel used both grips to steady herself as she swung up behind him. Instantly she slid forward on the seat, the bike’s build making for a very intimate ride ahead. Her heart pounded in her chest.

If she were honest, she had been a little sad now that she had her new bike. She’d gotten spoiled, riding with him for so long. She loved riding with Harley: being able to wrap her arms around his solid core, hands resting low on his abs, thighs pressed tightly up against the backs of his as he zipped through the streets of night. She loved that she was getting to ride with him again, even though she had her own bike. And now, with their new relationship progression, she could enjoy the sensations of being so close to him without worrying he’d think she was being a creeper. Her heart flew into overdrive when he slid her hands up under the hem of his jacket, her palms pressing against his hard abs. This was new.

“Gonna be a cold ride, darlin’. What kind of space heater would I be if I let your fingers get frostbite before we ate,” he murmured, voice dark, an underlying current of pleasure rippling along the connection promising there was more to it than Harley was admitting. He was enjoying this just as much as she was. Amiel smiled, heat flushing her cheeks. She had gloves in her pockets. They both knew this. Neither of them bothered to mention it.