Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy (37 page)

Then, after one more scowl, the cop turned away. “Bet you say that to all the guys you almost kill.”

Mitch still had a lot to make up for. And he would probably run out of time before he’d done it.

§ § §

As soon as Carter tapped his watch and gave the thumbs-up signal, they went in ninja-style. Minus the all-black, lethal throwing-stars, and any knowledge of martial arts, that is. Not to mention that Landon practically had to carry Carter in. The guy was almost staggering. Every time Mitch asked him what the hell was wrong with him or Landon asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, Carter just ignored them.

“Seriously, man,” Landon said. “You don’t look so good. Are you
sure
you don’t need help?”

“No,” Mitch said. “We’re doing this
now
. We don’t have time to take him anywhere.”

Landon scowled at him. “We can leave him at that strip mall we saw, call 9-1-1, and then come back here.”

Carter pulled away from Landon’s side, balancing on his own two feet. “I need to get inside. Get my medicine. Then I’ll feel better.”

Landon tried to argue. But, for once and
only
once, Mitch was on Carter’s side. The kid’s knowledge of the layout of the place meant that no matter what, he was coming along for the ride. Even if they had to drag him in by the scruff of his neck.

“You get us inside,” Mitch said, “and you can have whatever you want.”

While Mitch and Landon stayed behind, peeping around some bushes like Toms, ready for an old lady to come out and start yelling at them, Carter finally came through and did something productive. He went to go tell the guard who-the-fuck-knew and who-the-fuck-cared to get him away from the door.

Mitch knew there was a huge chance that the kid would turn on them. In fact, he expected it. So, when they caught up him, Mitch would keep it short—knock him out and stuff him in a room he couldn’t get out of until they were done.

“We need to get rid of Carter.”

Landon flinched. “We’re not killing him.”

“Of course not.” Although the thought had crossed his mind. Frequently. “He’s on his way there already, without us doing anything.”

Landon nodded, his mouth tight. “What do you want to do?”

“We can’t have him changing sides again. Plus, he’s oddly concerned with getting inside the cage room. And not because Eden’s in there. He’s about as trustworthy as
I
am. So I say we knock him out until it’s over.”

Landon just grunted.

“Think of it this way, Landon: He’ll probably be safer that way. If this gets rough, he’ll get hurt. You know, ‘cause he fights worse than you do.”

“So knocking him senseless is your way of helping him out?”

He nodded. “I can be helpful.”

Carter waved at them from the back entrance.

As they ran across the grass, Landon said, “Remind me to never ask for your help.”

“I’d say no anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“Fine, but let me do it. I know where to hit him without causing permanent paralysis.”

“You never let me have any fun.”

When they neared the door, Carter shoved something in his pocket. “I already shut down the camera feed.”

“What was that?” Mitch asked. If the kid had a weapon, he needed to know about it. About two hours ago.

“Nothing,” Carter mumbled.

“Hand it over, or I’m dumping your body somewhere in Alligator Alley.” He stuck out his palm, and, after a quick glance to Landon who said, “Give it up, kid,” Carter placed an empty syringe into Mitch’s hand. Whatever had filled it was blue.
Nothing
shot into a vein should be blue. Nothing.

“What the fuck was in it?”

“The guard, he…I don’t…” Whatever he was stuttering was left hanging. One thing was for sure—Carter had completely lost any leftover traces of morality that he might’ve had.

“You just bring that kind of stuff with you wherever you go or what?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it come out of Carter’s mouth.

“Fine,” he said, his face pointed towards the ground. “I brought it as protection. For you.”

There it was—the answer Mitch had been waiting for. But it didn’t stop him from mouthing off because…well, because that’s who he was. “Protection, huh? I usually opt for condoms, but whatever floats, dude. Although…geez, this is awkward.” He sighed. “You’re not my type. Not to mention that my dick…” Another sigh. “Yeah, my dick is the only thing I
don’t
want to shove up your ass.”

“Are you going to kill me?” he said weakly.

“Nah,” he said, slapping Carter’s shoulder. “Not enough time. Sure as hell is tempting, though.”

“Can we break this up,” Landon said, “and get what we came here for?”

Even though the empty syringe was no longer a weapon—unless Mitch tried poking someone to death—he shoved it into his pocket, and they took off down the hallway. Slowly. Brain-numbingly slowly. Thanks to Carter’s quickly decreasing ability to walk straight.

Landon stood behind him, shaking his head unhappily like he still wasn’t convinced this was a good idea. Which it wasn’t. When it came down to it,
none
of this was a good idea. And if Mitch thought too much about it, he’d probably decide to wait until they came up with a decent plan before trying anything. So he didn’t think about it.

“I need to get the medication,” Carter mumbled, his gait jerky. “Need to find my medication.”

“Whatever,” Mitch mumbled back.

Was
that
what Carter wanted in the cage room? His meds? Which meant that Eden was probably nowhere
near
the place, and the prick just needed their help to get his precious drugs. Which also meant that he couldn’t simply ask the-Clinic-powers-that-be for a prescription. So he was probably
just
as unwanted here as
they
were. That actually eased Mitch’s paranoia—at least Carter wasn’t setting them up for an ambush. Sometimes, being unwanted was a good thing.

When they reached the first of many, many doors, Carter stumbled. Mitch and Landon both rushed forward to grab him so he wouldn’t smack his head on the floor and break it open. Ironic, because a second ago they’d decided to do something similar.

His body suddenly went limp in their arms.
That
, against their forward momentum, made one big fumble. Mitch’s foot—and all the weight attached to it—came down on Carter’s calf. Something cracked, but the kid didn’t make a peep.

“What the fuck?” He looked at Landon, equal amounts of confusion on both of their faces.

Landon leaned down, putting two fingers against Carter’s neck. In what seems like hours, Landon finally said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? As in, dead?”

Landon raised his eyebrow. “Yes.”

Holy hell.
Well, wasn’t that a strange turn of events. Carter had been living close to death for as long as Mitch had known him.
Everyone
involved with The Clinic lived that way. But to just collapse in a hallway, after going through all the shit he’d outlived?

Well, that’s fucking tragic.

But they didn’t have time for any long monologues, a list of Carter’s accomplishments. Mitch would leave
that
to The Clinic. Because, honestly, any list
he
made would be very, very short.

Carter. A total screw-up. Doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. Deluding himself into thinking that evil was good and that he wasn’t part of it. May he figure it out in the afterlife, wherever the fuck he ends up.
“Amen.”

Sighing, Landon stood slowly, folding his hands together. “Do you think whatever he did in the past is forgiven by what he was trying to do now?”

“He wasn’t here for anybody other than himself.”

Landon studied him. “Isn’t it exhausting for you? Not to believe
anyone
has any good in them?”

“Yep. It is.” He nabbed Carter’s keycard from his pocket and handed it to Landon. “But someone who
is
good is locked up in here somewhere. And we need to go get her.” Then, out of respect for Landon, he carefully hoisted Carter’s body into his arms and waited as patiently as he could for the cop to open the closest door. They both peeked inside before Mitch went in and put the kid’s body down.

Not speaking, they moved along the silent hallway a bit too slowly for Mitch’s tastes. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone found them, so why try to fight the inevitable? Why not just fight? Take down as many of the motherfuckers as they could along the way?

Mitch stopped and looked back to Landon who was standing in front of a door, unlocking it. “What are you doing? Carter said her room is down the second hallway.”

“Yeah, but he
also
said that her father would be in the cage room. I thought you wanted to get him out too. Or, at least, see if we can.”

“Not yet. Eden first.
Then
her dad.”

“Look, the farther we go into the building, the more chance there is of running into the guards. We do this in order of what’s
not
going to get us killed the fastest.”

“No.”

“He’s right through this door. We get him out and see who else they have in there.
Then
we find Eden.”

“No.”

“Shit.” He grimaced, obviously losing his considerable patience. Finally. “Be smart, Turner. This isn’t a game. We can’t fight them all.”

“I can try.”

“You can try? What about
me
? Are you so frigging stupid that—” He blew out a breath. “You know what? I’m not wasting time arguing with you.” He swiped the keycard in front of the lock and opened the door.

Mitch waited for a second. He felt Hyde pushing to be free, like water in a hose, searching for any crack to break out of. Hyde wanted to follow the cop. But all Mitch wanted was to find Eden. Find her and get her out of this fucking place.
Then
he’d worry about her dad. He forced himself to turn away from the door. Steadying himself by putting a hand on the wall, he stumbled a step before he heard Landon say, “Holy shit!”

Damn it. I don’t have the time or the patience for this shit—holy or not.
But Mitch did an about-face and went back to the door Landon had just gone through. His stomach so tight it felt like he was wearing a steel corset, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Mitch’s entire body spasmed when he saw the Hyde. Strung up on the wall like some sort of marionette. Blood stained its pants, dripping from the metal clamps around its wrists. Ice cold eyes stared past Landon like he wasn’t even there. Honing in on Mitch, calling out to the evil inside of him.
Like
seeking
like
.

Mitch had never seen another Hyde, not since his father. Not since his own Hyde had truly matured into the bastard he was today. Never thought he would. Unable to stop his feet from moving forward, he approached the beast in the cage. So
this
was Eden’s father—Hyde01, or so the sign said, the big daddy of them all. The one she never knew and—
damn it, Carter was right
—the one she was better off
not
knowing. As Mitch gripped the bars of the cage, the beast didn’t growl. He didn’t move. All he did was watch.

“What do we do?” Landon asked from somewhere behind him. Mitch understood why the cop wouldn’t want to come closer.
Mitch
didn’t want to be closer, except that he
did
. He wanted to fight. Like some kind of absurd stallion-call, Hyde01’s eyes promised war. A fight to the death that Mitch couldn’t refuse.

This was her father. He tried to pull away, to break the bond that surged between the two beasts.
Think about her, asshole. Think about why you’re here.
But he couldn’t pry his hands off the steel. Instead he yanked at them, as if he was already inside the cage.

“Hello, sir,” he said, glad he could still control his voice. That it was
his
voice and not Hyde’s. “I’m Mitchell Turner. I’m sorry we had to meet like this.” Each word he spoke helped him focus. He wasn’t this beast—he was still a man. At least partly. He held onto that, praying it could overcome the intense need to kill the creature in front of him. No, he would not be
that
.

“I’m here to help,” Mitch said. “Although
how
that’s going to happen is a tough one ‘cause you do
not
look like a very nice guy and I can’t really feel my body.” Then he called out to Landon, “Think there’s enough morphine in here to down this bastard? A gallon, at least.” Just to combat the pull he had over Mitch.
This is a bad fucking idea—her daddy or not.
“Where the hell am I going to put another goddamn cage?”

Hyde01’s eyes widened and he shook himself…like a wet dog.

Memories of Mitch’s own father filled his mind—the hate, the hurt, the murder. The night his father’s Hyde killed his mother. The night his father’s Hyde died by Mitch’s hand. He jerked back, finally free of the bars. Then he stumbled into Landon.

Hyde01 started slamming his fists against the wall he was attached to, drawing his arms forward as much as the chains allowed and then flinging them backwards. The chain and cuffs clanged along with his growls. Blood splattered the wall and the floor. Mitch leaned against Landon, unable to stand or do anything other than shake.

The cop wrapped his arms around Mitch and dragged him backwards. “We need to leave. We can’t take him, not like
this
.” He shifted Mitch onto his feet and came in front of him. “Turner?”

Someone moaned.

As soon as Landon’s bulk stood between Mitch and the beast, Mitch could blink. His eyes dry and scratchy. Then he heard her voice, like out of a dream—calling out his name.
Fuck, I’m totally losing it
.

Landon flinched, looking behind him towards one of the other cages. “Oh shit, Eden!” He shot forward, leaving Mitch concerned about
both
their sanities.

Then he saw her, slowly standing up from the ground, holding the side of her head, blood trickling down her jaw from behind her ear.
Eden
. He couldn’t move.
Motherfucker!
He wanted to go to her, rip the fucking bars out of the floor to get to her. But he just couldn’t move. No Taser to blame this time. No, this time his paralysis was
all
his.