Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy (16 page)

“Great, I’m glad she cleared that up for us. Makes things a lot easier.” The couch groaned as he landed on it, probably due to the fact that it was one of the many poor inanimate objects Mitch had used to relieve his tension on. The house was filled with them—broken, smashed, torn apart, all in the name of anger management. Better something that could be replaced than something alive.

He popped open the liquor bottle and took a long swig.
Oooh
. “Tequila,” he said, blowing the fumes toward Landon. Maybe he should’ve looked at the label before taking that big of a gulp.

Landon sat down on the sagging arm chair across from him—another of Mitch’s victims. “I believe her.”

Mitch stared at him, stupefied. “Then
you’re
the idiot. She’ll say whatever she can to get out of that cage. Didn’t you see her eyes?”

“I told you they’d changed. Remember? Or have you been so doped up since then that you don’t remember the fourteen times I mentioned it?”

“Nah,” Mitch said, taking another swig. “You only told me
thirteen
times. But you can never believe what a drunk says.”

“Or a junkie.”

Mitch flinched, smiling. “You mean
me
? You think I’m a junkie?” His smile fell. “You think I enjoy this shit?” Nah, it was just another thing to hate. Another reason to hate Hyde for forcing him to do it, just so the bastard wouldn’t come out to play. He held out his arm, palm up, showing off the underside of his elbow. Smooth, unblemished skin where injection marks would be if he didn’t heal so goddamned fast. There were no visible reminders, but he remembered. Every single motherfucking time.

“I’m doing this so that he doesn’t hurt someone,” he said. “So that he doesn’t
kill
someone. I think that qualifies it as ‘medically necessary’.” Landon had no
idea
how hard Mitch was fighting. How much he was hiding signs of losing control. If the cop knew how close he was to giving up, giving
in
, he’d have never turned his weapon over to him. Hell, he’d probably have turned it
on
Mitch and ended him. And what a fucking relief that would be.

The more he loved her, the more he thought of her, the worse he got. Now she was here. He only had to walk upstairs to see her, touch her. And Hyde was even closer—vibrating just under his skin, excited, thrashing, knowing how close to freedom he was.

“So when are you going to talk to her?” Landon asked.

Mitch blinked, seeing the cop walking out of the kitchen, a bottle of water in his hand.
What the fuck?
He’d been—

Mitch glanced at the place where he’d seen him last, only a second ago. Wasn’t it? He scrubbed his hands over his face roughly. Almost afraid to lower them and see Landon appear in another place he couldn’t be.

What the hell was happening to him? He was losing, that’s what. Hyde was beating him.

It was
her
. Her being here. Her presence was screwing up what little control he had left. But she’s not the woman he loves. She’s someone different, apart. So it shouldn’t matter.

“She’s not Eden,” he mumbled over and over behind his hands.

“Turner! Mitch! What’s wrong with you?”

He felt Landon’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him. He lashed out, slapped it away, hating the cop’s pity more than the physical contact.

“I’m fine.” Mitch looked up, his vision slowly coming into focus.

“Oh yeah,” Landon said, moving back a step, his hand moving to his gun. “I believe that.”

“Are you going to shoot me, Landon?”

“What?” He looked at the hand resting on the clip of the holster, and then lowered his arm quickly. “Shit. No. No, I’m not going to shoot you.”

“Maybe you should.” He’d thought he could last. That he could make it until she was safe and The Clinic was ended. One down, kind of. She was safe, whoever she was. But there was still one to go. The Clinic.
Fuck
. What if he couldn’t make it that long?

“Listen, asshole. I’m not going to shoot you, so shut up.” His words flew out of his mouth, his body backed away. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Maybe you should trust your reflexes.”

“Shut the hell up!” Landon yelled.

“It’s because of
her
, you know. Because she’s here.”

Landon looked at him warily. “You think this is her fault? That she’s
doing
something to you?” His tone was calm, like Mitch imagined he’d use when talking to a psychopath. Somewhat fitting, wasn’t it?

“No, not directly. That would be too Jack Nicholson-ish, even for me.” He ran his hand through his hair, grabbing hold of it and looking at the ceiling. “But I feel him more, now that she’s here. Like a pull, like she’s calling to him. I wish…” He didn’t start blubbering, but he wanted to. He wanted to curl up into a little ball and weep like he’d seen her do. “I wish she hadn’t come back.”

“You’re not going to do anything to her, are you, Turner?”

He looked at the cop, at the guy who was almost like a friend, knowing his eyes were shiny.
How fucking pathetic.
“Would you shoot me if I did?”

Landon paused before answering. When he spoke, it was only a whisper. “Yes.”

“Good.” ‘Cause that’s what friends are for.

Every time Eden saw Landon, her confidence grew. Chastity’s influence in the parking garage seemed to be a reaction
only
to Mitch—not to every man who came near her. Landon was definitely attractive, but his presence didn’t make her want to rip off her clothes and start pole-dancing. All the men at The Clinic—Fields, Carter, or any of the other guards—hadn’t even given her a tingle. And at least
some
of those boys were shooting themselves up with so much synthetic hormone, they probably had
three
shrunken-and-useless balls.

So it wasn’t just the testosterone that triggered something in Chastity. It was
who
the testosterone belonged to. As if she needed another sign she and Mitch were meant for each other.

Landon set down a bottle of water and some crackers. “I know it’s like some bad prison joke—bread and water, but it’s all we have. I’ll try to go out later and get some actual food.”

“You’ve been taking care of him?”
When I couldn’t. Even if I hadn’t been carted off to an undisclosed location, I couldn’t have. Because he wouldn’t have let me.

He nodded. “But not particularly well. He pays the bills, so I do what I can.” He glanced around the room. “Except clean up.”

She looked for signs Landon had been fighting—bruises, scratches, scrapes. Mitch had obviously been fighting with someone, but it hadn’t been Landon. Unless Mitch had been tied up at the time and had asked Landon to beat the crap out of him. But Landon’s hands weren’t bruised. And in her short time as a warrior, she knew hitting someone left the person who strikes with a pain of their own.

“Who’d he fight?” she asked.

“Everyone. Anyone. Whoever will let him. It’s his method of coping now. Go in, get his ass kicked a little, cause a bit of damage, get out. Thankfully it
does
seem to help a bit. And thankfully, I don’t have to be the one to do it. It’s also helpful that he heals so goddamned fast.”

She swallowed. “Faster than he used to?”

“Faster than is
humanly
possible.”

So he
was
changing. Hyde’s power was trickling through, just like Chastity’s was doing to her. Her integration with Chastity was not without growing pains, but the changes were controllable, and occasionally came in handy. She suddenly had hope that the same metamorphosis could be happening within Mitch. But hope was far from fact.

“Speaking of the bastard… If you’re okay, I’m gonna…” He nodded towards the door.

The two men had grown close, she could tell. The last time she’d seen them together, the room could barely contain their animosity. Had her disappearance been the thing they’d bonded over?

“I’m glad that he has someone,” she said. At least
something
good had come out of it. If she could manage it, convince Mitch he needed the help that only The Clinic could offer, maybe she could add another good thing to the list. A list so short, she couldn’t think of anything else to add.

When she’d seen him in the garage, her hopes for everything to be normal between them again had been high. That wasn’t likely anymore. But even if she never got another chance to be with him, she’d make sure she gave him another chance to
be
.

“I hate to break it to you,” he said, “but I’m not here to be anyone’s babysitter.”

“Why
are
you here?”

“Because you two are the only way I can get what I want.”

That stumped her. “And what is that?”

“Them. I want them.”

It’s hard to see determination in someone’s eyes. Fear, doubt, happiness—those things are easy to spot. But true determination is harder to identify. Looking at Landon, Eden saw it as clearly as if she could read minds. Which wasn’t in her skill-set, as far as she knew. So she had no idea what his motivation was.

“Oh shit, Landon. If you tell me that you’re a Hyde and they’ve been doping you too, I’m going to lose it. I swear to God, I will.”

His gaze softened as he chuckled. “No need to lose anything. I’m not like you guys. But a few years ago, The Clinic took something from me, and I want to find out why. I want to look into the eyes of the people who seem hell-bent on destroying your lives. Who can’t seem to get enough of screwing with you. I want to be here the next time they try, so that I can screw with
them
for awhile.”

“So Mitch and I are, what? Bait? Chum in the water to attract the sharks?”

“Something like that.”

What Landon didn’t understand was that he wasn’t on the boat. He was in the water with them. And Mitch wasn’t a feeder fish. He was the shark. Or he might be soon.

“That’s…” She blew out a breath. “Very unhealthy. Honestly, you need to reevaluate that plan. Because hanging around with us could very possibly get you hurt. Or worse. And I don’t mean by The Clinic.”

“We all die someday.”

“True, but you’re putting yourself in a position that could turn ‘someday’ into today.”

“Which is exactly why every time I raise my glass, I wish for one more. Another day, another chance to get what I want. Isn’t that what life is all about?”

“I have no clue what life is all about.” Nor could she make anyone do something they didn’t want to do. Just trying to change his or Mitch’s mind wasn’t enough. Each of them had their own road. So she needed to pick up the whole frigging street and change its direction, so they would never encounter the dangers of the one they’d chosen. But to do that, she needed information about how far they’d already traveled.

“Tell me how often Mitch is changing.”

“A lot.”

“Damn it, Landon! Just tell me. What are you afraid of? I’m in a frigging cage, for god’s sake.”

He shrugged.

“Are you worried it’s going to hurt my feelings? Again, the cage.” She threw her hands up and spun in a circle. “Locking me up hurts my feelings, so that’s already done. Are you worried he doesn’t want me to know? Well, screw him. He’s the reason I’m here. He’s the reason
I’m
in this cage and
he’s
downstairs with his feet up.”

“It’s a lot,” he mumbled. “I don’t count.”

“Make a guess then. Three times? Five times? What?”

“Almost every night and sometimes during the day.”

That stopped her. “He turns every night?” She stared at him, the words barely leaking out of her mouth, a big breath of
oh-shit
rushing in.

“
Almost
every night.”

This is bad. Beyond bad
. This was disaster.

“I need to talk to him, Landon. Now.”

“He’s not ready.” Even as he spoke, he looked like he hated saying it.

“I don’t really care if he’s ready or not. We have a time-sensitive issue here that won’t get better by ignoring it.”

Landon fidgeted, but didn’t leave. “I told him I believe you. But he wasn’t having it. When you wake up tomorrow, he’ll have to accept it, and he’ll be okay with you not being in the cage. But right now, I think it’s probably the safest place you can be. It’s just a little longer.”

“I don’t
care
about the cage. That’s not the problem.
He
is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need you to give him a message.” She tried to keep her voice business-like, despite the fact that she’d been incredibly wrong before. Being put in a cage didn’t even compare to knowing that Mitch couldn’t bring himself to be in the same room as her. But feelings could wait, his life couldn’t.

“They’ll give him the serum.”

“Wha—”

She held up his hand to stop whatever was about to come out of his mouth, because
nothing
was as important as what she needed to say. “He will die without it, Landon. Hyde will take over, and Mitch won’t be able to come back. Ever. Do you understand?
Ever
. You tell him that he can be as mad at me as he wants, but that won’t change a thing. Especially after he’s gone.”

§ § §

As soon as he left the room, Eden’s mind raced with what-ifs and what-the-hells. Even inside this cage, she finally felt free—free of self-doubt, of fearing who she was, of constantly trying to be someone she wasn’t. Because she had a focus outside of herself. She knew what she wanted now. What she’d
always
wanted. But Mitch…

She’d hoped that his faster recovery from injury was a sign of his changing, just as
she
had changed. But he wasn’t healing, integrating his two sides. He was
losing
control, not gaining it. What Alex claimed coincided with what Landon said about him—the man was failing and the beast was winning.

He needed help. From whoever was offering—her, Landon, The Clinic. But he just might be stubborn enough not to take it from
any
of them. She wondered how well Landon’s discussion with Mitch was going. And who would be throwing the first punch.

She knew what she needed to do and that she had a limited amount of time to see if it could be done. So she reached behind her and took two of the safety pins out of her dress. Eyeing the lock on the cage door, she let her hands do their work, without questioning how they knew what they were doing. When she looked down at them, she held bent pieces of metal that she’d fashioned into something that looked
nothing
like a key, but that she knew would fit the lock perfectly. Guided by the instinct of an animal, with the intelligence of a human, she’d done it. It wasn’t pretty, but it would free her.