Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2 (17 page)

Amiel

The grin grew as she strode toward the diner. If he wanted her to be happy, she would be. She could deal with Stint’s narrow-minded ways if Harley could; she would be strong for him. Her heart skipped happily in her chest, her mind replaying the look in his eyes, the touch of his hand on hers, his words. The grin brightened further.

What could he possibly have to discuss with her tonight? From the sounds of it, it was serious. But the way he’d touched her, looked at her… she burst into the diner, full grin in place. Stint startled across the way, where he sat happily counting money in the register. His eyes narrowed when he realized it was her. It only made Amiel’s grin grow to face-splitting proportions.

“Reporting for duty,” Amiel sang jauntily, approaching the counter.

“I thought you were dead,” Stint growled.

“Come now, don’t be like that. That would leave you shorthanded again, and then you would have to waste all that time and resource hiring someone else and teaching them the routine.” 

Stint glowered, but didn’t argue her point.

“You don’t look like you’ve been run over,” he asserted, eyes roving over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

“I’m a fast healer,” she replied blithely, lips stretching into a secretive grin. If only he knew. Stint grunted, pocketing most of the cash in the register before he slammed the tray shut.

“Shut up and get to work,” he growled, shoving past her and thumping out the front door. She idly wondered where he was going with all that cash. The sound of the kitchen doors swinging drew Amiel’s gaze to find Joyce walking through, arms full of dishes. When her friend’s bored eyes found Amiel, she let out a startled gasp and dropped every single plate on the floor.

“Oh, sugar dumplin's, there goes a chunk of my check,” Joyce huffed, though her frustration was swamped by the delight on her face as she pulled Amiel into a big hug.

“They said y’all got in a wreck! I was so worried, but look at ya now, all pretty and bright! Guess I didn’t have to worry after all!”

Amiel grunted as the pressure of Joyce’s bear hug sent her ribs shrieking. Joyce immediately stepped away, one hand over her mouth, the other hovering over Amiel’s side as though she could fix the damage done.

“Oh, gosh golly and goobers, I’m so sorry, hun! Did I hurt ya bad?”

Amiel chuckled. “I am just fine, Joyce, only a little sore.” 

“Well… see that ya don’t worry me like that again,” Joyce censured halfheartedly. “I was plumb near outta my wits, worryin’ ’bout you! I knew that bike was no good.”

“Actually, it wasn’t the bike’s fault. I was hit by a bus.” Amiel edited her story a bit, making it better fit casual perceptions. She couldn’t exactly say that she was hit by a bus driven by a man with a thirst for her blood on his hands, after she’d killed a whole pile of Rabids. Joyce probably wouldn’t handle that so well.

“No!” Joyce gasped. Amiel nodded. “Wow. Public transportation at its finest, if I ever heard it.” An angry shout floated toward them on the air from one of the patrons: one Amiel surmised now had a meal strewn all over the floor, mixed with broken plate shards.

“Oh, keep your whities on your bum, Tim! I’ll get to ya in a minute!”

“Whities?” Amiel snickered, dropping to the floor near Joyce to help clean the mess.

“Well, darlin’, a man like Tim ain’t wearin’ sexy undies like boxer briefs, I can promise ya that.” She leaned closer. “He still lives at home with his mama, and I bet ya she still does all his laundry and combs his hair.” Her eyebrow rose. Amiel grinned.

“Yikes. Let’s just hope he doesn’t go commando, huh?”

Joyce burst out in the most unladylike snorting giggle Amiel had ever heard, and she loved every ounce of it. When Joyce caught her breath, she tweaked Amiel on the nose.

“Oh, I missed havin’ you ’round, girl!” She stared down at the mess. “I’m afraid it’s gonna be my turn in the hospital after this, though. Stint’s gonna put me there when he sees this wreck.” Amiel frowned in determination.

“Oh, no he’s not.” She grabbed up the half-f kitchen trash bag. “Help me toss all the pieces in here.”

“What plan have ya got bouncin’ ’round in that pretty little head of yours, Amiel?” Joyce asked with a suspicious grin. Amiel winked as she tied off the bag, grabbed an unbroken plate, and headed over to Tim’s table. After a quick conversation, Tim grabbed the plate and trash bag and quickly headed out the door. Joyce watched in surprise.

“Now what was that all about?”

Amiel grinned. “He’s taking the trash to the dumpster across the road, and then heading to the discount store down the street to buy us more plates. I saw the exact same plates there when I was shopping a few weeks ago.”

“How’d ya get him to do all that?”

“I gave him forty bucks and told him he could keep the change.”

“Well, thanks for that, Miss Money Bags.” Joyce shook her head, bending to wipe up the sticky mess left on the floor from Cookie’s famous sweet sauce on his chicken. Amiel quickly swiped out her phone and took a picture. Joyce looked up at her in surprise.

“I may have also promised him a picture of your feet.” Amiel grinned apologetically. Joyce’s mouth fell wide open.

“My feet?”

Amiel shrugged. “Apparently he has a foot fetish. Who knew?”

“Oh, heaven help us all. Probably from all those foot massages he gives his mama.” They both giggled. “Here’s the question, girl. Exactly how are you gonna get him the pic? Not all of us got the money for a fancy phone like you.”

Amiel frowned. She hadn’t thought of that.

“I need access to a computer and printer.”

“Ain’t one like that ’round here, unless you’re Stint.”

“He’s got one?”

“In his office.” Joyce’s eyes turned wary. “Oh no, don’t ya go thinkin’ crazy like that, girl.”

Amiel glanced over her shoulder at the front door before rushing toward Stint’s office. She knew she was being crazy; she knew this was quite possibly one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, but she couldn’t deny the rush it gave her, either. A sheer shiver of excitement skittered down her spine, goose bumps erupting over her flesh as she tried the office door and found it locked. That should have deterred her, but it only spurred her onward. It was a challenge, and she suddenly found that she liked a challenge. Reaching up, she quickly snagged a couple of bobby pins from Joyce’s hair. She felt an almost giddy elation as the pins slipped into the keyhole.

“What’re you doing?” Sunshine’s monotone voice drifted toward them. Joyce jumped a foot in the air, whereas Amiel only grew still for a moment before continuing to poke away at the lock.

“I’m breaking into Stint’s office,” Amiel stated simply.

“No you’re not,” the girl stated just as simply. Amiel felt her muscles go stiff under the girl’s reply, a dangerous sort of anger brewing in the back of her mind. She quickly whisked it away into the darker corners of her mind, almost embarrassed to have felt such a reaction.  Sunshine might be rude, but she was still just a kid, after all.

“Why not?” Amiel kept her voice flat, emotionless, afraid of what else might come out otherwise. She was feeling a bit unpredictable at the moment.

“Because you’re doing it all wrong.” Sunshine suddenly shoved Amiel out of the way with her hip. Yanking a pair of long, metal stick things from the hot pink mess of her hair, she set to work on the lock. Amiel didn’t have time to be angry or offended, because she realized Sunshine was doing what she’d failed at. The locks snicked open in a matter of seconds under Sunshine’s expertise.

“Why did you do that — help us, I mean?” Amiel asked.

“Because Stint’s an ass, and if someone is going to ruin his day in
any
way, I want to be a part of it.”

“Oh, high water and Hell fire,” Joyce murmured, one hand covering her eyes in exasperation.

“Shut it, Red. You be the lookout. Warn us if you hear him coming,” Sunshine hissed, shoving her way through the door and leaving Amiel to follow. Amiel surged to her feet and quickly slipped into the dimly lit room.

“So, what are you gonna do to jerkface?” Sunshine asked nonchalantly, perusing the office.

“I’m just using his printer.”

The girl stopped to stare at her as Amiel took a seat behind Stint’s desk. “You’re kidding, right?” When Amiel didn’t reply further, Sunshine let out an aggravated groan. “We break in here, and all you do is borrow his paper and toner? That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Lame or not, it isn’t going to happen if I can’t even get into his computer.” Amiel frowned, staring at the password-protected screen.

“Shove,” Sunshine commanded, pushing her way in front of the screen, fingers pecking away at the keys. She pulled a small, square object from her pocket and plugged it into the side of the computer. Immediately the blank space for the password began scrolling through several asterisk patterns before settling on one and unlocking Stint’s secrets.

“Wow,” Amiel murmured in appreciation. “Where’d you get that?”

“None of your beeswax.” Sunshine shrugged, hand imperiously held out. “Give me your phone. I’ll get the photo printed out. Which one is it?”

“The one of Joyce’s feet.” Amiel pointed at the screen. Sunshine stared at her like she was a freak. “It’s for a patron,” Amiel supplied.

“Ew. That’s even weirder.” She didn’t say another word as she sent the file to be printed. Once it was done, she tossed the print at Amiel and cleared any data of their activity on the computer. Amiel stood, but stopped cold when Sunshine let out a low whistle.

“Lookie what we have here.”

Amiel followed her gaze, blushing slightly as the girl sifted through a whole mass amount of folders filled with inappropriate images. Sunshine paused on a few, twisting her head to the side. “Oh, wow. I know a lot of people who would be more than pissed off to know Stint had these pictures.”

“Really?” Amiel asked, curious despite her aversion to the images.

“Oh, yeah,
trust
me.” Then she transferred a copy of all the files to her device plugged into the side of the computer.

“What are you doing?” Amiel asked, finally feeling a slight edge of panic.

“Saving some collateral for a rainy day.” Sunshine unleashed the first real grin Amiel had ever seen on the girl’s face. It was there and gone as fast as it appeared, as though it had never existed.

Joyce suddenly squeaked from the doorway, hands frantically waving at them to hurry. Amiel jumped from the chair, picture and phone in hand. Sunshine cleared the computer and logged it out in a few quick keystrokes, then tucked her gadget away in her pocket as she darted past Amiel. Amiel quickly poked in the button for the lock on the door and shut it behind them. They darted across the hall just as Stint walked in. Sunshine sat on the floor, a bottle of nail polish in her hands, ready to paint them as always. Joyce and Amiel stood at the water cooler, getting drinks.

“Get back to work! I don’t pay you to sit around, lazy hos!” he growled, disappearing inside his office once more. Sunshine sneered at the closed door in her usual display of attitude. Amiel and Joyce quickly headed toward the dining section.

“Oh, my stars and garters, that was too close, Amiel. My poor heart can’t handle stuff like that!” Now that the initial fight-or-flight panic was wearing off, Amiel grinned in mischief, a hand over her racing heart. Pulling out the folded picture from her pocket, she waved it in front of her friend’s nose.

“Actually, I thought it was kind of fun.”

Joyce made a cross over her chest and said a little prayer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you girl, but ya left last week as a timid little kitten and came back a fierce little hellcat.”

Amiel laughed. The word “hellcat” brought Harley fresh into her mind. It was one of his favorite references for her. Blushing, she fanned herself with the picture, a mischievous grin on her face.

“I don’t know, Joyce. Maybe we should all get hit by buses more often.”

“I’ll skip out on that one, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Amiel winked.

Things got busy after that. Tim came back with the sneaky replacement dishes, and she handed off the picture of Joyce’s feet. Joyce shuddered at his reaction over her “perfect feet”. They were both kept occupied with filling orders for patrons and collecting tips. Amiel got more tips than usual that night, and she had the feeling it had to do with the exuberant grin permanently plastered on her lips.

She shouldn’t be so thrilled over the fact that she had just broken into her boss’s office and stolen everything on his computer, which was now in the hands of a crazy fifteen-year-old who might or might not perform blood rituals in her bedroom at night. Yet, Amiel
was
thrilled. She’d loved every minute of it, thrived on the exciting danger of the whole ploy. A part of her couldn’t wait to do it again.

“Haven’t seen ya without that grin on your face all night, Suga,” Joyce teased, counting out her tips. “Did ya really enjoy that little heist so much?”

“I guess I have got a bit of daredevil in me.” Amiel smirked.

“Is your cousin the same way?”