Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III)

by Lauren Stewart

  “I’ll stop the second you tell me what I want to know.” Liar. You won’t be able to stop. And it had nothing to do with Chastity or being Abnormal. Eden couldn’t stop because she was human and weak and scared and desperate.

  Ryan smiled knowingly as if he knew what she was thinking and had just cataloged it in his mind. “I’m amazed I can still talk. Not to tell you anything you want to know, of course. Just to share how much I admire all you’ve become.” His smile was wiped away by her fist.

  She may have left her morality at the door, but she would pick it up later. Everything was secondary to finding answers. But she could feel her frustration mounting. She’d gotten nothing from him so far, no matter which way she tried to get in.

  “I love your compliments,” she said. “So I’ll ask him to stay away from your pretty mouth.”

  Ryan spit out blood. “He listens to you? That’s a first. Hydes aren’t a particularly agreeable lot. As I recall, they do a lot of grunting and insulting, but very little listening. And no agreeing at all.”

  “I meant Mitch. I know he’d love to meet you.”

  “We’ve already met. I went to one of his seminars a few years ago. The theme of his talk was something about getting your head out of your ass. Good speaker. Very honest. Helpful to me in a lot of respects career-wise. I don’t think he’ll remember me though.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to give you another speech. Probably something about how to get your head back into your ass again. With interactive instruction.” If he learned so much from Mitch’s seminars, then maybe Mitch would have insight that she was blind to.

  Ryan laughed. “I think I can handle him.”

  “You’d be the first.”

  “And probably the last, no? A Hyde having gone without any medication for as long as he did is really unpredictable. He could keel over any minute. Staying in the Abnormal form for too long and then switching takes a big toll on the system. The heart seems to be the weak point. We’re not exactly sure why, but it’s probably something to do with the strange beat.” Four beats and then a pause—hers hadn’t done it since she woke up at The Clinic.

  “It’s terrible,” he continued. “They bleed out of everywhere—eyes, ears, mouth, a couple other places that I don’t want to mention. Believe me, it’s not something you want to see around dinner time.” His brow tightened with a feigned look of concern. “Turner hasn’t been bleeding out of anywhere, has he? Don’t worry, Eden. I’m sure he’ll be the exception.”

  She didn’t react or let her emotions show on her face or body. She wouldn’t be beaten by a guy tied to a chair.

  “But that’s boring,” he said. “How about I tell you about your father instead? Wouldn’t that be more fun? I’m not sure he would approve of the new-you though. But I guess that doesn’t matter now anyway. How many pieces did Turner leave him in again?”

  She blamed her weakness on the physical exertion and being overwhelmed, anything other than that he knew exactly how to hurt her. Make her want to run away like a little girl into the arms of someone who’d never been there.

  Don’t let him win. Her boys were right—she had to deal with it. Someone like Ryan made her father into a beast, a Hyde who could never come back. Just like he would do to Mitch given the chance. She wouldn’t let him have that chance.

  I don’t have to feel. I just have to do.

  “Mitch didn’t kill my father. You did. What I saw was only his body, a husk he used to live in.”

  “That husk was very useful. Very, very use—”

  Oh shit, she might have just broken his jaw. He wouldn’t be able to talk with a broken jaw. Or if he was unconscious—which he was, his head sagging to one side, mouth slack, eyes closed.

  Not helpful, Eden. Not at all helpful. At least he was breathing. She waited. Then nudged his shoulder. Then waited.

  “Shit.” She started to pace the length of the truck, glancing at him every time she switched directions. “Shit.”

  “That hurt,” he mumbled, slowly opening his eyes.

  “Oh man, I would be so sorry about that if you answered my fucking questions.”

  He shrugged. “Tell me how you combined.”

  She’d already told him and he hadn’t believed her. And it didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t tied up—he was. Therefore he got to provide the answers. “You like to be in control, right, Ryan? Well, guess what. You’re in total control of when the pain stops.”

  “Fine, I’ll tell you what to do for Turner.” He took a deep breath. When he spoke it was so quiet she had to get closer just to hear what he was saying. “Give him the J-0026 to wake him up and the RSL-7 to stop his seizure. And every time he transforms he’ll get weaker. And weaker. And weaker. And then he’ll be gone. Bye-bye, Turner. There’s no way to stop it, darlin’. Not that I know of. You’re the only one who’s ever done it.”

  “You lying piece of shit.” Her foot met his stomach, knocking the chair over. “Tell me how to fix it!”

  “There is no way to fix it,” he groaned.

  “Your blood is making my hands sticky. It’s disgusting.” She pulled his shirt out of his pants and wiped her hands off with it, ignoring his glossy glare. It meant nothing to her. He meant nothing to her. “Hopefully, you’ll run out of it pretty soon.”

  After righting the chair to make sure his last tumble hadn’t loosened the bindings, she jumped down, flipped the lock, and went to find something that wasn’t covered in blood to towel off on.

  She didn’t realize she was shaking until she was in the cab. It was hot out and she was sweating, but there were goose bumps on her arms. And she didn’t know why or how long it had been going on.

  After she cleaned up, she would— You’ll what? Keep beating him. It hadn’t gotten her anywhere, so there was no good reason to keep doing it.

  But there were a lot of bad reasons.

  Chapter XXX

  Justin might not be able to speak very well, but at least he was honest. All Mitch found at the warehouse was him—no truck, no Eden. After calling her number a few times and then calling everyone else a lot of truly filthy names, Mitch decided to try patience. He’d wait, breathe, and watch the door for approximately five minutes before he went ape-shit crazy. Why not? He sure as hell didn’t have anything better to do.

  Why did she leave the warehouse? Probably not to hit the drive-thru. Sure, he was glad she was in the offensive line-up now, but he’d only be comfortable once she was in his sightline.

  Five minutes, asshole. You can wait a whole five minutes. Then he would do a street-by-street sweep of the area. That would help him calm down. Because even if he didn’t find her, he was sure to find someone who needed a good beating.

  Justin sat on the ground a few feet away, staring until Mitch turned towards him.

  “I know I’m pretty,” Mitch said, “but stop gawking at me. It’s making me feel like an object.”

  “Sorry,” the kid mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest.

  I hate kids. He didn’t know what to say to them. And they made him feel old. “Not only am I nice to look at, but I can also read minds. Like right now you’re thinking, ‘Holy, shit. Is that what I’m going to be like fifteen years and fifty pounds from now?’ And the answer is”—he drum-rolled his hands on the metal door—“I fucking hope not.”

  No reaction. “Look, I don’t know shit about kids because I never was one, but I know men. And I don’t mean biblically.” Why was he letting two underage-eyes get to him like this? “I made a lot of money by figuring them out. And from what I know about Fields, he’ll keep you from ending up like me. And even though Eden seems to like you a lot, you don’t wanna piss that woman off by stepping out of line.”

  He shoved off the wall and started pacing. “Thing is, when it comes down to it, they can’t do shit. You wanna be a man? A good one? Then be one. No one can teach you how or do it for you. So either do it or don’t do it.” He took a breath. “And that’s all the peppy-talking I have
in me, so you can stop staring now.”

  He didn’t.

  “Okay.” Mitch should be better at shit like this. His mouth had gotten him in and out of way worse situations that this one. “You’re still thinking. But now it’s more of a ‘What the hell does he know?’ And the answer is: Nothing. I know nothing.”

  “It wasn’t that,” the kid said. “I was wondering if my Hyde will be like yours.”

  Mitch stopped. More than anything, he wanted to say, ‘If he is, you’re screwed,’ and then walk away. But he’d told himself he’d wait, and there were still two minutes to go.

  “Is yours going to be like mine? Huh. Not unless you’re as stupid as I am. Are you?”

  Justin shrugged.

  “It would be a tough thing to match. Plus, not even Eden would be able to handle more than one charity case at a time. So I think you’re in the clear. Just take your medicine like a good boy until somebody figures out an alternative.” Wouldn’t that be nice. “Please, kid. Say something. Anything. Just talk.”

  A verbal answer would stop the useless lecture coming out of Mitch’s mouth. And would cover the silence and all the shit going through his mind.

  “What did you do to Alex?” Justin asked.

  Oh shit. The kid wanted to ask her a question. Mitch had thrown everything out of the window as soon as he heard Eden was back, and before he heard she left again. But he’d made an almost-promise and he’d blown it.

  “I forgot,” Mitch said. “But as soon as we’re done with this clusterfuck, I’ll take you to her. Her mouth’s taped shut, so you’ll have the added fun of giving her a lip wax when you rip it off. And, if for some reason this takes longer than I pray it does, I’ll find her again, probably through her sister. Kindergarten teachers are great at the hide-and-seek thing, but the hide-from-a-raving-madman thing is a far more advanced skill.”

  “Have you ever done something really, really bad while you were Hyde? Like, so bad you can’t…” Another unfinished sentence.

  “I thought I did.” Mitch shifted uncomfortably. “For a long time I thought I hurt someone really…She…” Oh fuck, it’s contagious. Finish the damn sentence. “I thought I hurt someone I loved very, very much.”

  “Was it Eden?”

  “I’ve taken a lot of wrong turns in that neighborhood, but …it was my sister.” He still missed her. Some wounds are so deep, they’ll never heal. “But then I found out that they had done it. Well, someone who was working two jobs—one for me and one for them. I trusted her, and I’m old and jaded enough to know better.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Jolie? She died. Violently.” On a night he’d love to forget. “Can’t say I was sad to see her go. In fact, it couldn’t have happen to a nicer person.” He grimaced, remembering who he was talking to and that, yes, he was speaking out loud. “But I probably shouldn’t have said that…to you…now…here…” This was one of those bad situations his mouth got him into. “So, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

  “No problem.”

  “Great. But, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to shut up now.” Had it been five minutes? Please, let the five minutes be up. He looked at his phone to check the time just in time for it to start ringing. Serendipity or more bad news?

  Eden’s face came up on the caller ID. He really loved that picture—because he remembered the moment he took it.

  It better be her and not the asshole again, or Mitch was going to reach through the phone line and rip the bastard’s brain out through his ear.

  “Mitch?”

  Biiiig sigh of relief. “Where are you, babe?”

  “I’m…” She sounded so afraid, so tired.

  “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  “I’m fine. But I feel a little…weird.”

  “Okay.” Weird was better than ‘suicidal’ or ‘blood-thirsty’ or any number of other words or phrases she could’ve used. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m…I feel like…I think I’m losing control.”

  Shit. ‘Losing control’ was one he’d hoped she wouldn’t use. One thing at a time. Now that he knew where her head was, he had to figure out where her body was. “Where are you?”

  “Is Justin alright? Did you check on him?”

  “He’s here with me. But you’re not, and I’d really like that to change. So how do we make that happen?”

  “Mitch?” There was a fear in her voice that he didn’t understand.

  “I’m here, babe. Talk to me.”

  “I’m…I’m enjoying it. It’s…exciting, and I think part of me…wants him.”

  When she didn’t explain, his mind started filling in the blanks—none of them good. “You remember what I told you, Eden? I’m standing here, still breathing.” Gasping for air, more like. “Which means that no one touches you but me, and you don’t touch anyone but me. You understand?” It wasn’t about being territorial. It was because he had no idea what was going on with her, what she was doing, or who she was right now.

  “I’m not going to, but I want to. Do you know what I mean?” Her laugh was arsenic-bitter. “How could you? I don’t even know what I mean. Do you think Chastity’s back? That it’s her fault?” There was hope in her voice, a need to put the blame onto someone else’s shoulders.

  “Maybe. We’ll figure it out, but you need to tell me—”

  “I thought it was just you she wanted, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s the power, and that’s why she wants him so badly.”

  Okay, now he was jealous. But he couldn’t keep going down this road on the phone. While that asshole was close to her and he wasn’t. “Where are you?”

  “In a truck yard.”

  “What truck yard? Why didn’t you just stay here?”

  “I couldn’t—not with Justin there. Not with what I have to do.”

  “What’s that, Eden?” He kept the suspicion out of his voice, but he was pretty sure the terror had gotten through.

  She’d not only planned this out, she’d implemented it without telling anyone else. People don’t hide good news or good deeds. People only hide the bad shit.

  “I gave Justin some money, but I’ll pay you back. You know, if I ever have a chance to go job hunting.” Her laugh was stiff, uncomfortable.

  “This isn’t about money. You can have all of it if you want. But I’d rather you blow it on jewelry and clothes.”

  “I needed somewhere private to take him,” she whispered.

  He wished she meant Hyde, but he knew better. “You still have the bastard, don’t you? Whittley’s still alive?” This is bad. She was dangerously close to the point of no return, skirting the edge on rollerblades.

  “Is that his last name? I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth.” None of the usual fire was left in her voice. Now she sounded scared, like a little girl. Like she’d just pulled the monster out from under her bed, tied him up, and was now trying to decide how to get rid of him permanently.

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Yeah.”

  Just enough time for a quick sigh of relief before going right back to worrying. “Eden, tell me where you are. Then you stay outside of the truck and take deep, calming breaths until I get there. You hear me? Do nothing else.”

  Silence.

  “Please, babe. Please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “There’s nothing I could do to him that I would regret. Nothing.”

  Now Mitch was actually hoping she’d fuck the guy. If she was going to do anything, please let it be a meaningless fuck. Mitch could deal with that—eventually—and she would get over it. But the other thing she was considering would change her forever. No do overs. There was no climbing back to your feet after that one.

  “I want you to wait,” he said. “Wait for me to get there. Don’t…don’t do it alone.”

  “I know you want to be there for me, that you’re willing. But you’re not able. Not yet. Not until Ryan tells me how to help you. I’m positive
he knows, Mitch. Positive. And he’ll tell me. Eventually, and with enough incentive, he’ll tell me. And then I’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  Fuuuuck. Stall, asshole. Stall until you can get there. “Then let me be there while you do it. I want to see. I want to help or just…”

  Mitch would kill for her. He would. But even though Whittley deserved it, Mitch didn’t want to. Murder, the cold kind, let the worst part of their Abnormal sides seep into their humanity. And once it started, once that fissure was created, it only got bigger and harder to control. He felt it happen when he’d almost killed Landon.

  For the most part, Eden had taken on Chastity’s strengths, not her weaknesses. But that could change if she killed Whittley. Shit, everything could change if she killed Whittley.

  “Let me be there for you, Eden. Please. I...I want to see that bastard in some pain.”

  Her pause was long, with only a sigh traveling the distance between them. “Okay. But hurry.” He was moving before she started giving him directions.

  When you see someone dangling one foot of the precipice, you do a lot of praying, babbling, and hoping. But those things don’t do shit to solve the problem or to get through to someone who’s already decided to leap. The only useful thing to do is haul their ass backwards fast, before they even feel your hand.

  And if you have to lie to get close enough, then you lie. You deceive, you manipulate. Even if you promised yourself you never would. Even if it destroyed all the trust you’d spent a lifetime never thinking you’d find.

  So Mitch kept her on the phone, saying things that made him sick and pretending he wasn’t afraid for her.

  Until she hung up.

  “Eden!” He called her name over and over. Then he called her back. Over and over. But she didn’t answer.

  When he turned the key in the ignition, the POS wouldn’t start. With an absurd amount of cursing, he slammed his fist onto the dash. “Motherfucking piece of shit!”

  His tantrum had no effect on the engine, and he didn’t have time to mess around under the hood. So as soon as his feet hit the earth, he started running. Flat-out, with one hand in the pocket that held his lifeline—the syringe that stood between him and death. The drug that would send him back into hell. He held onto it. Because if he lost it, his limited amount of options would drop back down to zero.