Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy (32 page)

Because, honestly, none of it was useful. None of it brought her any closer to her goal. And
that
was what she needed to focus on. Let go of all the pain, so it wouldn’t distract her.

And best of all, it made Eden appear weak.

Made Alex’s brows furrow in feigned empathy. Forced her to pretend to give a shit about the weeping, pathetic girl in front of her. Distracted her from the keycard Eden covered with her hand and curled up into her fist.

Alex dialed slowly, dreading the call she had to make. But, all things considered, her conversation with Eden hadn’t gone as badly it could’ve. Sure, Eden had been upset, but that was to be expected. Alex finally felt like they were communicating, being honest with each other. Hopefully, Eden now understood the good that might be possible if she agreed, and the bad that was inevitable if she didn’t. Because whether Eden wanted the responsibility or not, she was the solution. And, more than anything, Alex needed
something
good to come of all of this.

So until the moment her boss started speaking, Alex hadn’t felt all that bad.

“Cancel your trip for the company picnic—you’re being replaced.”

“But we got her!” She pressed the phone to her ear. “Eden’s back now.”

“Well, isn’t that good news,” he said dryly.

“Sir, she came in willingly. After spending a few days with Turner. I don’t think it ended well, but can you
please
wait until we find out exactly what happened?” It was a good thing they never teleconferenced because desperation was
not
an attractive look for her. But after everything she’d done, everything she avoided thinking about, she couldn’t give up now. It wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t even about the science anymore. It was because she was so deep in this pit that giving up before something positive came of all of it was more than she could handle.

“Fine. I’m going to assume Turner and Landon are not longer problems. If that assumption is incorrect, your replacement will handle it.” The pitch of his voice never raised, not even when he was angry. Or maybe he was
always
angry. “Until then, bring in some more guards and tell everyone else to go home. Call me as soon as you know if she got herself knocked-up. Otherwise, do it the other way.”

Not again.
Thankfully, Alex’s whimper was silent. “You mean with another Hyde? She’ll
never
agree to that.” She started picking at the corner of the file on her desk, peeling the folder apart layer by layer. “Our only choice was Turner.”

“No.
Her
only choice was Turner. And that didn’t work out so well. So from now on,
we
make decisions for her because, evidently, she sucks at making them.”

“I think…if we just give her more time. Maybe approach Turner directly. We could use her safety to get him to agree. I think—”

“Don’t
think
. Just do what I tell you to do. That way everyone’s happy.”

Everyone?
Hardly. Try: No one else but him. “This is wrong.”

“Deciding what’s right or wrong is above your pay-grade. If you can’t manage it, that’s fine. Because I already have someone lined-up who can.”

I didn’t trade-in my soul just so I could be replaced.
“You mean like Jolie?” Words shot out of her mouth like venom, but the poison remained inside. “She worked out
really
well for you, what with screwing everything up and all.”

“Are you sure you aren’t one of
them
? Your moods change faster than the minute hand on my Rolex. Just when I think you might be smart, you up and get mouthy.”

She looked at the ceiling. Somehow, he would
know
how close to tears she was, and he’d probably enjoy it.

“I’m
not
going to force a pregnancy on her,” she said, bringing the phone close to her mouth, so he wouldn’t know how difficult it was for her to speak, to say the things she should’ve said a long time ago. “She should have a choice.”

“Fine. I’m not without feelings.” He sighed. “Here’s her choice: She makes a baby with the man she loves and they live happily ever after. Or...the man she loves doesn’t get his
widdle baba
of serum and will soon turn into a psychotic monster full-time. How’s that for a choice?”

She’d thought it was a bluff. “You mean you’d really deny him the serum unless they reproduce?”

“Do we have a bad connection here? Hold the phone closer to your ear, so you can hear me better. No pregnancy, no serum. Yes pregnancy, yes serum. Do you want me to repeat it?”

“No. I understand.” She
understood
that he never bluffed. And then she understood that she was talking to an empty line.

Her office was too small, too claustrophobic. She needed to get out of this godforsaken place.

“Alex?” The door cracked open. Only one person would open without knocking first.

“Now’s not a good time, Carter. Can I find you later?”

He opened the door all the way and came in. “Alex, I’m not feeling very well.” Another reminder of the ‘good’ she was doing here. Poor Carter. He really
did
look terrible.

She busied herself by shuffling papers, straightening out her desk. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you right now. Eden’s back now, so you’ll have to wait.”

“Is that my file?” he asked, pointing to the one she’d practically destroyed while on the phone. When she moved to leave, he blocked her way. “Listen, Alex. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life. But I’m trying to do better. But I
can’t
if I feel like I’m about to die all the time.” He held his arms out to his sides.

“I can’t help you. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more.” Before he started begging, she pushed past him, wanting to escape. But her sins still held on tightly, and running away was never enough to shake them off.

§ § §

Mitch eventually calmed down…sedated…in the cage. Not letting go of the safety pin/lock pick, he’d ordered Landon to stay in the room. Did Mitch trust him? Not really. The time for trusting anyone—including himself—was long gone. And any lingering scraps of belief in the justice of the universe had been wiped out as well.

Once his heartbeat had returned to normal, and with a top-off of the narcotic, he and Landon went from storefront to storefront, angrily demanding information from everyone they encountered. After only a minimal amount of threatening, a clerk from a convenience store confessed to seeing her get into a black SUV. Convenient. The Clinic handled deliveries
and
pick-ups.

So she’d called them. Why the hell had she gone back to them? Willingly. And why hadn’t she said anything? The question not only hurt his ego—it hurt his heart, his soul, and all the other parts of himself he’d handed her.

Trust, gone. Faith, gone. Even for her.

If that was what she wanted, then he had no choice but to let her go. He was still baffled by how she could trust them, but what the hell could he do now? Go after her? Sure. If he knew where the fuck to go. And when he found her, he’d take every fucking bit of anger, pain, and frustration out on the people who’d done this to them. Wipe them off the planet, leaving no trace of them behind. Regardless of what Eden wanted or hoped for.

Goals were important. And, though his goal hadn’t changed, now he had even
more
motivation. Because she’d gone there for
him
. She’d sold herself to them, so that
he
could live. Unacceptable. He was going to end them if it was the
last
thing he did. Even if he had to go door-to-door wearing a target on his chest, screaming, ‘Anyone with a Taser gets a free shot’.

Lying in feigned peaceful repose back in The Clinic’s guestroom, Eden felt the walls of this hellhole close in around her. Like a mime in a box. Except she wasn’t pretending—the box was real. And she couldn’t get out. At least not until she completed the task she’d set for herself. She touched the keycard that was tucked into her bra.

Alex was going to be so pissed. But it served her right after all the lies, after she fed Eden one more about it not being safe for her to go outside anymore. That she was only safe inside The Clinic, and that they needed her. Eden had let her talk, knowing what Alex really meant: She was trapped inside of these walls until they didn’t need her anymore. Until they had what they wanted. Until they’d convinced her to have a child, she’d never be free.

She imagined the next day would be a parade of sorts. A line-up of all the people Eden could help—Justin, Fields’s daughter, probably more—to tug at her heartstrings. But those strings had been played so hard, they were already broken. And, unlike the rest of her, they didn’t heal quickly.

Patience, Eden. Patience.
That was a very tall order. Wait until nighttime, when
some
of them went home to their happy, normal lives, where they could pretend their day job didn’t involve testing monsters. Where they could pretend
they
weren’t monsters for doing it.

After her lovely discussion with Alex, they’d done more tests. Not surprisingly, when she’d asked about the results, they shuffled papers and mumbled about nothing being conclusive. Sure, why the hell should they tell
her
anything? It was only
her
body they were testing, so why would she care?

She knew they would check her blood and urine for hormone levels, especially the ones that appeared after conception. Damn it, she hoped they hadn’t gotten what they’d wanted—that she’d accidentally gotten pregnant with Mitch’s child.

She would
not
be bred like a piece of livestock. Would not have her child poked and prodded like a lamb due for slaughter. Stem cells.
Yeah, sure
. As if they’d be able to stop themselves once they had them.

These people weren’t trying to
help
Abnormals, they were trying to
breed
them. For what purpose, she had no idea. But she’d find out. They must have computers. Somewhere. Weeks ago, when Jolie’s boss thought he was talking to Jolie, he mentioned emails. So yippee for them—The Clinic tried to be green. But it wasn’t the environment they were worried about, it was the lack of a paper trail. But digital docs left a trail as well, and she intended to scour the whole frigging forest of deception to find it.

An excruciating amount of time later, the overhead lights dimmed, giving the
‘lights out, children’
signal. She stood and walked slowly to the door, putting her ear to it and listening. Then she turned the knob, again moving as slowly as she could bear, testing their promise of her freedom within the facility. It was locked.
Shocker
.

She called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?” Hopefully, there was someone right outside the door. A guard who, with a smile to prove how much they trusted her, would politely suggest that she go back to bed. And if she insisted? Made up an excuse that she needed to get some fresh air, or get a drink, or go to the little girl’s room? What would happen then? How long would he be able to keep up the appearance of congeniality? How long before he pulled out that fancy Taser of his?

“What do you want?” said a voice from the other side of the door.

Hurray for predictability
. “I need some help.” She released the knob as the guard opened the door. She saw him a moment before he saw her. Thankfully, he wasn’t any of the ones she’d already fought—they’d have been happy to go another round with her. This one was young, fresh-faced. He probably had no idea how expendable he was to his employer. You take one down and another pops up in his place.

“Hi,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” The poor guy would know in about thirty seconds, just as soon as she could reach him.

“Could you help me flip the mattress? I’m having a Princess and the Pea moment with it.”

“Um…” He glanced down the hallway.

“Please? It’ll just take a second.”

He reached for his cell phone.

“I think the two of us can handle it. It’s just a mattress.” She smiled her most girlie smile, one she hoped looked needy and sweet.

“I don’t think so,” he said, pushing the door. “Go back to bed.”

“Come on,” she whined, pushing against him.

“Just go to sleep.” He stepped behind the door to get more leverage until all she saw was one of his legs outstretched behind him.

“Fine.” She readied herself and then quickly released the door. As soon as it started to swing towards her, she shoved it as hard as she could. It clunked into him, and he stumbled away holding his head. A second later she was behind him, her arm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air like Fields had done to her. Except she wasn’t as gentle. His limbs flailed around, but only briefly made contact with her. Hopefully his lame fighting skill was a sign The Clinic was running out of well-trained guards.

As his movements slowed, she whispered, “You need to get a different job. You’re not cut out for this,” into his ear. Once he stopped moving and became a big lump of useless weight, she released the pressure on his windpipe and dragged him into the room.

She grabbed his cell phone, keycard, and Taser, and then remembered the intercom box on the wall. There was nothing other than what she’d just taken off him to break it with. But she
had
to break it. Eventually he would wake up and call for help, and she needed all the time she could get.
Damn it.
She weighed her options. She needed every tool she could hold onto. She tried to tuck the cell phone and his keycard into her bra, wishing her breasts were smaller so she’d have more room.

“I should have paid more attention in class.” Then she turned the dial on the top of the Taser to max, pointed it at the intercom, and pulled the trigger, hoping the unit would short-circuit.

Sparks surrounded a dart like the one she’d ripped out of Mitch after he’d been zapped. “Thank you, physics!” As soon as her finger came off the trigger, the sparks began to die off.
Great
. These fancy Tasers were probably one-shot deals. But she kept it, just in case. With a quick glance to make sure the guard was still unconscious, she left the room, verifying it was locked.