Devil's Cry

by Shayne Silvers

  “You did what?” Victoria finally asked in a low whisper.

  Hyde grunted, hurriedly making his way behind the bar to increase his chances of survival. He stood beside Poole, the pair of them studying us in disbelief.

  I sighed. “I was almost out of blood and we were ambushed by the witches. Natalie offered me her blood so we could finish—”

  “No!” Natalie abruptly shouted, jumping to her feet and shooting me a withering glare. “That’s not what fucking happened, Sorin!” she snapped, her shoulders trembling violently. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she shook her head back and forth in denial.

  And part of me began to panic, wondering how much worse this night could get. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell Victoria the truth about the more sensual moments of the bond, but that I didn’t think it was fair for Victoria to judge Natalie for her drastic measures while in a magical haze or fighting for her very life. Trying to recount the events with mere words didn’t truly encapsulate what had transpired.

  Before I could explain, Natalie cleared her throat and began to speak in a rasping, emotional tone. “Sorin sacrificed himself to save me. He’s my goddamned hero!” Her words hung heavily in the air, and everyone turned to stare at me with surprised looks—silently wondering why my version of events hadn’t admitted any heroism.

  Part of me wanted to jump up and call her a liar so that I could redirect the unwanted attention, but…Natalie hadn’t lied. The reason I hadn’t mentioned my last use of blood was because I hadn’t done it with any thoughts of heroism in mind, and I definitely hadn’t done it for later recognition at Hyde’s bar. I’d simply made the best call from the options available to me—either we were both captured or killed, or I took the chance to possibly save Natalie’s life.

  It was as cut and dried as that.

  In my personal opinion, the ability to grant proper recognition was reserved only to those poor bastards who had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with you in the screaming fields of war, the men who had watched over you while you fitfully slept in the mud and the blood, the men who had seen you both at your very best and your very worst. The poor bastards who had somehow been lucky enough or stubborn enough to make it out alive with you. They were the only ones who truly knew what had happened, so they were the only ones truly qualified to condemn or to praise your decisions.

  And to true warriors, genuine recognition was as simple and as heart-wrenchingly raw as direct eye contact followed by a slow, silent, unblinking nod—and only when no one else was looking. It was private, not public.

  Meaningful recognition was not given with flowery speeches and applause, and certainly not with a medal or promotion—although those heartfelt attempts were incredibly kind and appreciated.

  The problem with those attempts was that only true warriors knew that the cost of being a ‘hero’ was that you couldn’t honor the good outcome without dredging up the grim horrors that had forced your ‘heroic’ action. Each well-intended act of recognition brought with it a reenactment of both the good and the bad—a curse that already plagued heroes every night when they closed their eyes, reserved for their dreams and nightmares.

  The curse of a hero was to live with both memories weighing him down.

  And the only respite was the final peace.

  For me, I had done entirely too many horrible things to ever accept the hero title.

  Hearing the term applied to me made me feel like I had robbed one neighbor of his gold only to be praised as altruistic for giving that stolen gold to a different neighbor.

  Natalie and Victoria were studying me with raw anguish on their faces, their eyes moist with unshed tears. I suddenly felt terrible, fearing that my grim thoughts had translated through our bond, that I had accidentally given them pain.

  Natalie wiped at her nose, turning to address everyone else. “Sorin used up the last drop of his blood to kill the witches before they managed to kill me,” she whispered, sounding almost angry at my decision. “I caught him about a second before he went down for good, and I had to force the idiot to feed from me before the familiars had time to overwhelm us, because they were preventing me from shifting. I wasn’t strong enough to get us out of there on my own,” she said, sounding ashamed. Natalie blinked through her tears, looking incredibly guilty. “If he hadn’t bitten me, we would both be dead right now. So, if anyone has a fucking problem with our new bond, we can have it out right here. Right. Now.” She was panting, clenching her jaw tightly.

  Thankfully, she kept her eyes downcast rather than glaring at her obvious target—Victoria.

  With tensions running this high, I decided it was best to calm everyone down sooner rather than later. I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Natalie. If you hadn’t forced the idiot to feed, we would be dead. I guess that actually makes you the hero, eh?” I said with an appeasing smile.

  An emotional laugh stubbornly bubbled out of her mouth, and she blushed in embarrassment, hanging her head with a trembling sob.

  Just like that, the tension dissipated. I had more to say to the both of them, but it was a conversation to be had in private—because I had a feeling that remnants of Victoria’s blood in my system might have had an important part to play in our new bond.

  It was the only logical explanation for why Victoria had been roped into it when she had been miles away from us.

  Victoria slowly approached Natalie, not even attempting to wipe the guilty tears from her cheeks. She stood there in an awkward attempt at support, seeming unsure whether she should simply leave or embrace the crying werewolf.

  Before she had time to decide, Natalie flung her arms around the vampire hunter’s neck, burying her sobbing face into a shoulder. Victoria did the same, and soon they were leaking all over each other. Victoria clutched the weeping werewolf’s head, holding it close, while her other hand rubbed her back reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, Natalie. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Natalie squeezed Victoria tighter, murmuring something back that made Victoria spout even more tears. Hyde was shooting me a panicked look from over their shoulders as if asking me what we were supposed to do.

  In answer, I lifted my glass of blood in a silent salute. Hyde and Poole each lifted an entire bottle in the air, returning the gesture. Then we took healthy gulps and tried our best not to disturb the women in any form or fashion, pretending that we were entirely unaware of their strange ritual.

  It was safer that way. I knew that much, at least.

  Anything else was akin to an innocent kitten trying to break up a vicious dog fight.

  It didn’t matter how precious and fluffy the kitten might be.

  Dead was dead. Period.

  I waited a few moments before I turned to Hyde. “How do you two know each other?” I asked Hyde, pointing my glass at Victoria. The two women were still wrapping up their ritual, so I knew it was best to speak quietly.

  Hyde grunted. “She helped me get out of London a few years back. When my experiments grew out of control.”

  I frowned at his considerable size, eyeing the torn and stretched clothes. “Is that what this is?” I asked, gesturing at him. “An experiment gone wrong?”

  He nodded. “I made a serum to help me understand the duality of mankind—their ability to be good or evil. I was once Dr. Henry Jekyll, but when I took the serum, a darker version of myself came out,” he said, holding out his huge hands. “Mr. Edward Hyde.”

  I stared back at him, shaking my head. “A potion did this to you? Why didn’t you stop taking it?” I asked curiously.

  “I had to keep taking the potion to control the change—like a werewolf involuntarily shifting. Pretty soon I grew immune to it, though. I had consumed enough for it to become a permanent part of me. Locals caught onto the truth and Poole and Victoria helped me escape town.” He smiled fondly at the mustached barkeep.

  “I almost turned against him, working with law enforcement,” Poole said. “Victoria convinced me otherwise.”
>
  Hyde set the empty liquor bottle down and folded his massive arms over his chest. “She helped me learn to control it, but I’m more Hyde than Jekyll most days. I have to try very hard to become him. I can’t have a lick of anger on my mind to do so.”

  Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I watched his body relax muscle by muscle, and then he suddenly began to shrink. I gasped and even Natalie looked up in disbelief as Hyde’s skin simply sloughed away, disappearing as if it had never existed.

  An entirely new man stood before us, holding his clothes up to keep them from falling from his shoulders and waist since they were better suited for the much larger Hyde.

  He opened his eyes and blinked slowly. His piercing gaze arrested me, and I was stunned at how handsome he was—like a perfect carving. He smiled at us. “I really don’t have much need for this form anymore,” he said in a firm, musical voice. “Unless I’m going out into town, which is risky. If someone cuts me off in traffic, I’m liable to lose my control on Hyde.”

  I shook my head in awe. “That’s amazing.”

  He shrugged. “Mr. Hyde used to be a mindless beast, but I’ve gotten the hang of how to harness that rage and rein it in. It’s why I run this bar. Closed to the general public and open to monsters like us—although precious few take the chance. It lets me relax, at least.”

  “And no one dares piss you off, granting you some measure of security,” Victoria added with a smile, having finally regained her composure. “Except for Sorin, of course.” She stood beside Natalie, close enough to touch shoulders. I smiled at the pair of them.

  The handsome Jekyll nodded with a grin, turning to face me. “You really ticked me off, Sorin. Not sure I’ve been that worked up in a hundred years.”

  “You’re immortal?” I asked, caught off guard.

  He shrugged. “Not sure, to be honest. But I’m not dead yet, and I look the same now as I did back in 1890. Well, Hyde has gotten uglier, I guess.”

  Victoria scoffed. “That’s an understatement. And he’s gotten much bigger. When you first changed, you were just a small, violent man. That changed the more frequently you consumed your potions.”

  He puffed up his chest proudly. “I got bigger and nicer.”

  I studied him thoughtfully, wondering how I could best use him to my advantage in the days to come. “Which side were you on? Wolf or vampire?” I asked, even though they’d shown particular distaste for vampires when I’d first walked in.

  “Definitely not vampire,” he chuckled. “No one was on their side. But to be honest, I wasn’t on any side. I just kept to myself and everyone else kept me out of their politics. You seem to have fucked that right the hell up. The witches will know you came here, so now I’ve got that to deal with.”

  I winced. “My apologies.”

  He shrugged. “Not necessary. I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.”

  I finished my drink and set it down. “I need to go visit Dr. Stein and check on Isabella and Nosh.”

  “I’ll drive,” Jekyll said, suddenly shifting back into his larger form between one moment and the next.

  Victoria frowned at him as he struggled to adjust his clothes back into place. “You just drank four fifths of whatever was in those bottles.”

  He frowned. Then he deftly scooped up another bottle and downed it. “There. Now I’ve had five fifths.” He scratched his beard with a pensive frown. “What does five fifths make?”

  Poole sighed. “One gallon. But I’ll drive. Just to be safe.”

  I eyed Hyde warily. “Do we have a big enough car?”

  Poole grinned, thumbing his mustache. “We have a big enough vehicle.”

  “We have a big fucking truck,” Hyde clarified. “I like to feel the air in my hair.”

  I smirked at the two of them. “I guarantee you that mine is bigger. Hands down.”

  They stared at me suspiciously.

  Victoria rolled her eyes, scooping up her guns. Natalie and I both watched her to make sure she didn’t strain a muscle. We watched her very closely.

  And I was confident that Victoria knew it, judging by how slowly she moved.

  17

  Our footsteps echoed across the marble floor as we entered an expansive lobby. Hyde let out a long, slobbery whistle, his fat lower lip flopping up and down in a sickening fashion.

  “Never thought I’d see this place,” he rumbled, smiling excitedly. It was an improvement from his almost immediate pout upon seeing my vehicle. Granted, I’d cheated.

  Boats were bigger than cars.

  Nero was waiting for us, watching me specifically. He looked both excited and uneasy, but I knew it wasn’t something to figure out with so many people present. After all, most people still thought he was my prisoner. In a way, he still was.

  His metal collar gleamed around his neck, but he pretended not to notice. So I did the same. He was earning back my trust by working with Dr. Stein, but he had a long way to go before he was back in my good graces, because I had no real way to verify his story. And he hadn’t told me his whole tale yet anyway, holding much back for some reason.

  So, the collar stayed on.

  Dozens of wooden crates lined the wall, waiting to be moved or opened by the next shift. There was still a lot of work to do. I turned to Nero with a wary frown. “Almost finished?” I asked, pointedly eyeing the crates.

  He nodded easily. “Most of those are empty, but we still have a lot of work to do upstairs. Definitely on schedule for tomorrow, though,” he reassured me. “Just waiting for a storm.” I noticed him eyeing Hyde warily, probably concerned about his massive size causing a problem.

  I nodded, hoping he was right. “Where is everyone?” I asked, thinking primarily about Isabella and why her nose had started bleeding back at the restaurant—just like the witches. She also had some information to give me, since our dinner had been so rudely interrupted.

  No one else knew about that, though.

  “On the tenth floor.”

  “Ten floors? That’s it?” Hyde frowned.

  “The pedestal is ten stories tall,” Nero said. “The crown is twelve stories above that.”

  “How does no one know you’re here?” Poole asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Nero chuckled. “Friends in high places granted a reputable construction company—Sorin—a permit for critical structural repair, I think they called it,” he said with an amused smirk. “And we enthrall anyone who gets too close, of course.”

  Hyde scoffed, glancing left and right in disbelief. “That’s what all the scaffolding was outside?”

  Nero shrugged. “Have to keep up appearances.” He motioned for them to follow him up a flight of stairs at the end of the room. “Follow me. I’ll give you the tour.”

  Victoria grabbed my hand, preventing me from moving, although she didn’t look at me. “Go ahead. We’ll be with you in just a minute,” she said to the others, staring down at the floor.

  Natalie nodded, ushering Mr. Poole and Mr. Hyde, following behind Nero, up the stairs to our final destination—Dr. Stein’s strange new laboratory. Even I hadn’t seen it yet.

  “Remember me!” I called out, making it sound like the last words they would ever hear me speak. Natalie burst out laughing at my intended eulogy, but she shoved the others ahead before they could comment. I thought I caught her flash me a thumbs up gesture before they rounded the corner to continue up yet another flight of stairs.

  Victoria waited until their echoing voices faded before releasing my hand and lifting her attention from the ground. She took a leisurely step forward, obviously not in a hurry but needing to be in motion. She was wringing her hands together as she pointedly stared ahead. “I had several surprise orgasms through the bond,” she whispered abruptly, not making eye contact.

  I missed a step, wondering if I was fast enough to escape. “Um…” I said stupidly.

  “I’m not angry, Sorin,” she said in that same soft tone. One thing I did know was that when a wo
man said she wasn’t angry she was telling the truth. But what she really meant was that she had flown far past angry several emotions ago, and that you were on borrowed time.

  Angry was safe.

  Not angry was a death sentence.

  “I talked to Natalie about it,” she continued. I blushed, suddenly realizing that my life had just become incredibly complicated if they were going to share things like that with each other. “Apparently, you left her high and dry,” she said with a faint smile. Oh, so faint.

  “Y-yes,” I stammered. “The…feelings she had—”

  “Orgasms, Sorin,” she interrupted firmly. “Supernatural, mind-bending orgasms.”

  I raked a hand through my hair, blushing profusely. “Yes…those. They happened when I bit her. Not…from anything else. We didn’t—”

  She set a hand on my forearm, finally meeting my eyes. “I know, Sorin. I know.”

  I sighed in relief. “What I feel for her is nothing like what I feel for you, Victoria,” I said honestly. “There is a serious physical spark between us, and I care for her deeply,” I admitted, knowing she could feel it through our bond. “I feel that same intense physical spark with you, too,” I said, meeting her eyes so she could see my resolve. “And. So. Much. More.”

  Victoria bit her lip, nodding uncertainly. “Thank you for admitting that,” she whispered. “About your physical chemistry with Natalie.”

  “And my physical chemistry with you,” I reminded her. “It is no different in that regard. Where you two differ is…on a deeper level,” I said, struggling to find the words. “I feel like my very soul is connected to you. If I had one, anyway,” I muttered.

  She smiled, looking both saddened by my last comment and relieved by the others. “Since we’re being honest, I feel I should admit that I spent a significant portion of my life in the company of women,” she said, gauging my reaction. I frowned, scratching at my head. “Romantically.” My eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I feel an intense physical connection with Natalie, too, so I can’t take out my frustration on you.”