Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III)

by Lauren Stewart

  “You told me…to shut up.”

  Mitch sighed, swallowing his fear so he could keep moving. So he wouldn’t take too long. So he wouldn’t fail his friend. “Don’t talk. But don’t not answer when I ask you a goddamn question, asshole. You nearly gave me a heart attack. Got it?”

  After a short pause, a crooked smile appeared on his face, a mixture of pain, uncertainty, and camaraderie. “Got it.”

  “Goddamn humans.”

  When they finally got to the street, Mitch waved at a car for help. Unfortunately, two big, scary-looking guys with their arms wrapped around each other wasn’t the kind of thing a lot of people pull over for.

  “This isn’t working. I’m going to put you down, okay?” After Landon nodded painfully, Mitch eased him onto the narrow patch of grass next to the street. “I swear to God, Landon, you better not fucking die.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  Mitch didn’t say anything as he turned away. Idiot. It might be the last time you say anything to the guy and you end with ‘you better not fucking die’? So he turned back around, fearing it was already too late. But Landon’s eyes were open.

  With no time to spare, he crossed the distance between them and leaned down until he was in Landon’s face. “Listen, cop. You tell anyone I said this and I will murder you myself.” He opened his mouth to say it, but before he did, Landon spoke.

  “I do too.”

  “Cool.” Mitch stepped back and blew out a breath, thankful for the out. And thankful that the guy already knew how he felt, whether he said the famous words or not. “But I was just gonna tell you that if I wasn’t already locked up tight with Eden, I think you and I could’ve had a chance. You know, if I swung that way.”

  Landon smiled—an honest, shocked and amused smile. “That’s another reason to appreciate her—my rejection speech would’ve really hurt your feelings.”

  “As if you’d reject me,” he muttered. Shit. Another great thing to say. Try, try again. And do a better job this time, idiot. “I like having you around, cop, so don’t fuck this up.” After that colossal fail, he gave up and ran away like a little girl. But at least it was towards the street where he could flag down a ride.

  He tried his best to look docile, kind, and trustworthy. But he was probably doing a shit-poor job of it—some things can’t be learned. Ever. Just when he’d come up with some really terrible ideas for Plan B, a gold convertible pulled over.

  The woman was all-Dallas—the 1980s version—lots of hair, deep tan, and big sparkles on her ears, neck, and wrists. When she bit her lip, Mitch hid his scowl, recognizing a predatory look when he saw one. Her gaze ran from his face to his chest to his package. He waited for her to make eye contact again. It took a minute.

  “What are you doing out way here, handsome?”

  He smiled, playing a game he had no interest in. “You know you shouldn’t pull over for strangers, right?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can.” He let his eyes linger where they were expected to linger, not really seeing anything at all. And he avoided looking at the ring on her finger that she was trying to hide. Did she really think a stranger she picked up on the side of the road and seduced would give a shit about her vows?

  “I’m Mitchell.”

  “I’m Jessica.”

  “Great. Now that we know each other so well, Jessica, is there any chance you can help a friend out?”

  “A friend?”

  “For now.” He smirked, hoping it was an I’m-going-to-make-you-come-three-times-before-we-even-get-to-the-hotel-room look, rather than a the-only-thing-I’m-going-to-use-you-for-is-your-car look.

  And it seemed to work because her mouth opened slightly, the tip of her tongue darted out, and she squirmed in her seat. “What would my friend like me to help with?”

  “Somebody hit my car and then ran.”

  Huh. She even looked like she gave a shit. “Oh, that’s awful. Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, and it was probably healthier for him to run away. But here’s the thing, my buddy got a little banged up and I need to get him to the hospital.” He saw her face sour at the idea. “Then, after we drop him off, maybe I can thank you properly. Wait. Did I say I would thank you?” He leaned down and held her eyes. “I meant, I would fuck you. Properly.”

  Her smile came with another visual tour of his body. The woman should really be more cautious—he was a stranger and could be completely lying to her. In fact, he was completely lying to her.

  She did a weird, girlie head wiggle before sighing. “He’s not bleeding, is he?”

  “No. He’s just bruised.” Before she changed her mind, he ran to Landon. “You still breathing, man?”

  “My eyes are open, jackass.”

  Mitch hefted him up and started walking towards the car. “I know, but you always have a glossy, out-of-it look, so I was just making sure. By the way, you got banged up in a hit-and-run.”

  Landon looked confused until he saw Jessica and her car.

  “And any physical activity I may have promised the woman taking us does not need to be mentioned to Eden. Got it?”

  “That depends on if you’re going to keep that promise or not.”

  He laughed. “And miss a chance to see a doctor probe you? Hell no! That’s a ‘must see’.”

  “Your sense of humor is what’s going to end up killing me, you know that?”

  Jessica’s eyes widened when she saw them.

  “Try to look well-behaved,” Mitch said, following his own order. When they got close enough and she still hadn’t pulled away, he winked at her and said, “I will never be able to thank you enough, Jessica. This is…” Did the cop even have a first name? “Landon.”

  He helped the cop climb into the backseat. “Put your buckle on, Landon. No repeats of what happened earlier.” He rolled his eyes dramatically before swinging into the car.

  He chatted about stupid-ass things all the way to the hospital, looking in the side mirror incessantly, and ignoring the hand on his inner thigh. There was a possibility that Mitch was in as much pain as Landon was. Biting back every comment he wanted to make was taking a toll on his mental state and made his Hyde flashbacks more palatable.

  As they pulled into the ER loading area, he slammed his hand down on the car’s horn and pried Jessica’s hand off his leg. An orderly came over to help Mitch get the cop out of the car and into the wheelchair.

  “I’m okay, Turner. Stop freaking out.”

  “You’ve seen me freak out. I get big and occasionally try to kill people. This is not freaking out.”

  Landon motioned towards Jessica, and whispered, “Get rid of her nicely or I’m telling Eden.”

  “That’s what I get for saving your life?”

  “You are most of the reason my life was in danger to begin with, so shut the hell up.”

  “I love it when you bitch at me, asshole. Make sure you stick around to do more of it.”

  “Don’t make her wait around for hours, man. Nice and easy. Tell her you have a rash or something.” Though hoarse and sickly-sounding, Landon’s laugh made Mitch reconsider bringing him here.

  “I wonder if you’ll be smiling when I tell the doc that he really needs to make sure that dildo isn’t still stuck in your ass.” He shook his head and grimaced. “I’m telling you, man, you gotta be careful with those things. The wrong kind can go places where nothing should ever go.”

  The laugh fizzled out rapidly. “You wouldn’t.”

  “He’s ready to go now,” Mitch told the orderly.

  “Turner?” Landon called. “Don’t you dare, Turner. Seriously.”

  “I’ll catch up.” Mitch didn’t want to leave the cop’s side until he knew everything was going to be okay, but he felt somewhat bad for using the woman. Shit, where the fuck did he get a conscience? And what was the return policy?

  “Hey.” He leaned down, resting his forearms on her door. “You did a nice thing by helpin
g me, and I’m sure you’re a great person. But, you see, I’m not. In fact, I’m a terrible person. You invited a terrible person, not only into your life, but into your pants. Picking up strange men on the side of the road isn’t ‘safe sex’, Jessica—even if the guy looks harmless, which we both know is not how I look.

  “So go home, kiss your husband, and think about why you’re doing it. If you hate him, get a divorce. If you hate yourself, get some therapy. But self-destructive behavior is called that for a reason.” He took a breath. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe he’d turned over a new leaf and was a nicer person. Helpful, even.

  Jessica threw the car into drive, called him a few derogatory names, and peeled off, giving him just enough time to avoid her tires.

  He waved goodbye. “Yep. I think that went really well.”

  Chapter XXXVIII

  Eden had no sense of time as she stayed with Justin, his head still in her lap. Seconds, maybe hours, passed with no movement other than the thoughts and guilt bouncing around her brain. Danielle had left to go somewhere to do something. The air in the warehouse was stifling, thick with the scent of blood and death and regret, so maybe she went somewhere she could breathe.

  “I’m so sorry, hon,” Eden said softly. If she hadn’t brought Ryan here…if she hadn’t convinced Landon to let Justin stay...

  Risking her own life was one thing, but she’d risked other people’s too. She wished everything would stop so she could go back in time and make better choices. But that’s not how life worked. A person’s life is a journey directed by each decision they make.

  Eden had made all the wrong ones. She’d put herself here. Her, not anyone else. She’d turned into someone just as evil as the man who did this. The entire time she was hurting Ryan, she kept telling herself that he would’ve done the same thing or worse. And it was true—the boy she couldn’t let go of was proof of that.

  But she didn’t want to be anything like Ryan, to be able to kill so easily, so selfishly. She’d conned herself into believing she was doing this for Mitch and Justin and every other Abnormal. She wasn’t. She was doing this because she was hurt and afraid, and anger was easier to deal with. Violence gave her a sense of power. Fear just made her feel weak.

  After one last quiet apology, she slid her legs out from under Justin’s head, set him gently onto the ground, and went into the office area.

  “I’m really sorry, Eden,” Danielle said as she stood.

  “This was my fault—payback for all the wrong I’ve done. So, thanks, but I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry for him and sorry…” She turned and looked Danielle in the eyes, tears overwhelming her own. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I know it doesn’t make up for it—and please let me know if there’s a way that I can—but I’m really, really sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No it isn’t.” And then she saw the empty table—all the bottles, vials, and syringes were gone. “Ryan took it all.” Including the J-0026—the drug that might keep Mitch alive. No, better than alive. It might make it so that he never transformed again. She needed to get that drug back.

  Right after she said goodbye. She grabbed one of the sleeping bags and went back to Justin. Eden didn’t want to be part of this anymore, this thing that haunted and controlled her. Revenge, hate, rage. This wasn’t the life she wanted—to cause the death of someone who trusted her, loved her, and had so much left to experience—or who she wanted to be.

  She and Ryan were both responsible, and both of them had a lesson to learn. But Justin’s death would be the last. She’d fight to make sure Mitch and the others were safe and healthy, but she refused to be the cause of any more destruction—hers or anyone else’s.

  After covering Justin’s body with the sleeping bag, she knelt down beside him. She should say something. But it was too late—what good were words when he wasn’t around to hear them?

  Danielle stood a few feet back. “You didn’t force Ryan to do anything, Eden. No mistake in the world would make what he did right. If you want to blame someone, then blame everyone Ryan has ever met. Didn’t we all have a hand in shaping him into who he is, into a man who could do this?”

  “No one made him do this. This is on him.”

  “Exactly.”

  Touché. Eden looked at Danielle, seeing her as a person, not an enemy or a problem or a regret. “But Ryan is a Hyde.”

  “He always looked human to me.” Danielle didn’t seem shocked, or maybe she’d been shocked ever since Eden met her. “So his Hyde determines who he is while he’s a man, as well?”

  “No.” She thought about Mitch, the years he spent believing he had no good inside of him. Even then, he did everything he could to keep people safe. To keep her safe…and to love her.

  The Clinic thought the Abnormal side determined who they were and what they did. The Clinic is wrong. Eden would decide—all of her, not just one part. She’d make better choices, be a better person. It was possible. She’d come so far, all she needed to do was switch directions. No more lines crossed, no more destruction, no more violence built on fear. Because she wasn’t afraid anymore.

  “You’re a good person, aren’t you?” she asked.

  Danielle shrugged. “I try to be.”

  “That’s why you are.”

  “Tha—”

  Eden shushed her and craned to listen. Someone was moving outside and, with the day she was having, it probably wasn’t a UPS guy.

  She couldn’t silently sneak out of a squeaky metal door, so she did the next best thing. She listened until she knew exactly where the intruder was, took a deep breath, and yanked the door up just enough to stop, drop and roll out.

  After knocking his legs out from under him, she flipped over so her knee was on his chest and her hand was around his neck.

  “Unless we’re rationing air here, could I get a little more?”

  Eden fell on top of him, holding him, kissing him, feeling his body for injuries and bullet holes. “Are you okay?”

  Mitch rolled her onto her back. “Calm down, babe. I’m fine.”

  “It’s been…an awful day.” Pinned to the ground and helpless, and so incredibly relieved.

  “I’m of the same opinion. But can we talk about it inside? Over a cup of tea…or maybe something I actually like to drink?” He sighed, leaning down until his lips brushed hers. “I’m also okay with staying here for a little while. It’s nice here. Comfortable.” The need in his voice was for comfort and companionship, not sex. The same thing she needed.

  Then she realized that he was alone. Oh no. Not Landon too. “Where’s Landon? Did he—?”

  “He’s okay. Well, he’s not okay-okay. But he’s still breathing and still being a pain-in-the-ass. I wanted the hospital to sedate him so both of us would feel better, but he wouldn’t let them. I was hoping Danielle would go over there and make sure they do whatever blood tests we need while we figured the rest of this shit out.”

  “How’d you get out of the Shop?” She wanted to be mad at him, scream and curse, but she couldn’t. Not now. Not after Justin. She just didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. “What happened?”

  “Landon happened. That guy’s a hell of a fighter now. Saved my ass. I’m not going to pull him off the wagon, so I need to think of something to owe him. How’s Danielle?”

  “She’s...fine.” But Justin wasn’t.

  He pushed off the ground, lifting her up and brushing her off before doing the same to himself. It took 1.4 seconds for Mitch’s expression to go from so-glad-to-see-you-again to what-the-fuck-did-you-do. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her away and looking at her body. “Oh no, babe. No.” Even in the darkness, he could probably see the blood. “You were just supposed to bring her here and wait for us.”

  “Ryan’s gone. Just—” She couldn’t even say his name because she’d failed him so miserably. “Just gone. Danielle’s inside.”

  He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Okay, Ryan’s gone…okay. Just tell me you didn’
t do anything to Danielle.” His fingers dug into her skin, his voice desperate. “She’s one of us.”

  She shook her head. “There are only three of us. But I…”

  “Fuck, Eden. What did you do?” Without waiting for her answer, he yanked the loading door up and ran inside, calling Danielle’s name. Eden didn’t blame him for thinking that she’d killed Ryan, maybe Danielle too. Until a little while ago, she probably could have.

  “I’m over here,” Danielle called. Somewhere behind her, still shrouded in darkness, was Justin’s body.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, moving towards her, turning her head until her face caught the light.

  “It’s okay,” Danielle said. “What she did to me. It’s okay.”

  Mitch didn’t let go of her. “It’s not okay.”

  “I’m fine. But I’m not sure she is. Not after Justin—”

  He jerked. “Where is Justin?”

  Eden couldn’t breathe, let alone speak, with them staring at her like that.

  “Where is the kid?” Mitch asked again, with even less patience.

  “Over there,” Danielle mumbled.

  Every step Mitch took was heavy, lethargic. Eden understood because she’d felt the same way. The sense of foreboding. Your mind frantically trying to find a reason powerful enough to overwhelm the knowledge you feel in your chest. Anything to turn something real-but-unimaginable, back into something you couldn’t imagine.

  Mitch stopped. The stillness was universal—not even the crickets outside dared to move. Then he bent down and pulled back the sleeping bag. It was all she had to give him, and it was inadequate. Mitch mumbled something incoherent, something only for Justin, and then covered him back up.

  “Whittley did this?” His question rang out, bouncing off the cement walls, the steel beams of the ceiling, shaking the air around all of them. Like a battle cry. His strides were long and determined as he came to her, his face filled with more rage than she’d ever seen in him.