Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III)

by Stewart, Lauren

  “Now,” he said. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “What about me?” she asked, knowing exactly what he wanted to talk about.

  “Can you handle this?”

  “Handling things isn’t the problem, knowing when to stop is.” She sighed, needing a moment before she could say a few things she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. “I feel like I’m coming apart. Like so much is wrong that my mind is doing everything it can to protect itself. And it’s failing.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I wanted to screw the guy who had me caged! I think that counts as a fail.”

  “What you felt wasn’t attraction. It was Whittley’s pull.”

  “What do you mean?” After he told her about Ryan being Abnormal, they were both silent for a while. God, it makes sense. And was a huge relief. It lessened her guilt. At least for part of her reaction.

  “Is it possible that his Hyde brought out your violence?” he asked.

  “Maybe some of it. But I’ve kinda been a mess for a while now.” She laughed with her lips clenched, a physical reflection of her greatest fear—that if she started really letting things out, the purging would never stop.

  “I’m afraid, Mitch. Of myself.” It was a whispered comment, one she wasn’t sure had carried over the sound of the engine. But when he glanced at her and put his hand on her leg, she knew he’d heard.

  “I wish we had more time to deal with this right now. But you are incredible—the strongest woman I’ve ever known. Not with Chastity’s side, despite Chastity’s side. Focus on you, Eden. A whole, kind, complicated, amazingly well-loved, and insanely-stubborn person.

  She understood what he didn’t say, the non-verbalized thought that filled his eyes when he looked at her again: ‘Don’t be anyone else’. She nodded her agreement, as if any words either of them might use would never be clearer than the knowledge they shared.

  After a moment, he said, “We need to stop thinking as individuals and start acting more like a single unit. I tell you what I’m thinking, and you respect me enough to do the same.” The smoothness of his voice helped her get a little closer to calm. “Because every time we split up, bad shit happens. Someone’s gotta go rescue someone else.”

  He was right. They were better and stronger because of each other. She’d known it but hadn’t been able to really accept it. So she needed to try harder.

  “Each of us needs to accept who we are—strengths and weaknesses. And we all know how many weaknesses I have. So if I’ve accepted the shit that I am, you should have no problem. Because you only have about two.”

  “Two? What’s the second one?”

  He smiled. “I love who you are, babe. You should too. Sometimes it’s—” His head jerked, his brow furrowed, his chest caved slightly.

  “It’s what?”

  “It’s…It’s just that simple,” he said slowly, his voice filled with something like wonder. As if he just figured something out or came to a big decision. But if he’d just decided to sacrifice himself for her—if he said anything remotely like that—she’d knock him out and leave him in the car while she went in alone. ‘Cause that shit was not going to happen again.

  She was a long way from comfort or acceptance. But at least she could breathe. Breathing’s good. Easy. Simple. There’s no danger in breathing. But she was also a realist—they were heading into battle. The warm and cozies would have to wait a little longer.

  “Did Ryan tell you anything else that might be important?” she asked.

  He paused. “Not that I can think of.”

  “I know when you’re lying, Mitch!” She jabbed the jerk in the cheek, right into his lying little dimple. “Stop doing it.”

  “Ow, you have scratchy nails,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “Okay, there’s something else—the way he kept his Hyde in check. But… do you want the best case or the worst case first?”

  “Worst case,” she said,

  “You didn’t used to be a glass-half-empty kind of person.”

  “I promise to try harder if you promise to be around to see it. Now get to the point.”

  “Worst case is that because I went through ‘the change’, what worked for him won’t work for me, and I will die a miserable death.”

  Her whole body tightened. But the possibility wasn’t anything new. “I’d sure hate for that to happen.”

  “Me too. And that leads me to the best-case scenario which is what I should’ve started with. Whittley’s Hyde hasn’t come out in years. Because he takes the J-0026—a different dose than the one Carter was giving you and the one that brought me back. Somewhere in the middle, I guess.”

  Her reply didn’t happen immediately, there were no ‘hallelujah’s or ‘golly, that’s great news’. Because she couldn’t. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky. “Years. I… Years?” And that was it for a minute.

  “It’s about a mile away from a done deal, babe. There are a lot of things that can go wrong before we even have a chance to test the theory.” He cocked his head to the side. “That was a very glass-half-empty comment, wasn’t it?”

  She slugged him in the arm. Hard.

  “Can we save the hitting for the bad guys, please?”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “It’s only been ten minutes.”

  “Exactly. You should’ve told me ten minutes ago. If I hadn’t asked and if I didn’t know you were lying, you would’ve waited longer. Why?”

  “We don’t have it yet, so I didn’t want to—”

  “Tell me the truth?”

  “Make you believe in something that might not be true.”

  “It’s a chance we didn’t have a few hours ago, so screw you if you think I’m not going to enjoy it.” She smacked him again.

  “How about we show our enjoyment in more pleasurable ways from now on?” He rubbed his arm.

  “You keep anything like that from me again, and I’ll be aiming a lot lower.”

  He laughed. “Threats of testicular injury should not sound that hot. They just shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t try to charm me, Mitch Turner. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I’m going to have to work hard to make sure that phrase never comes out of your mouth again.” Even her anger couldn’t erase his smile.

  She shook her head, feeling the corners of her mouth respond with like. “Is there anything that doesn’t amuse you?”

  “I’m alive and you’re next to me, so my glass is already half-full. When we get Landon back and some bad guys need a lot of Band-Aids, it will be pretty damn close to the rim.” He could die at any moment and his glass was almost full? Amazing...and deeply troubling.

  They pulled into a small lot two buildings away from the address Ryan had given them.

  “I’ll meet you at the front of the car in about three seconds,” he said. “You’re not going to get in any trouble from here to there, are you?”

  “I think I can handle it.” She was out before he finished rolling his eyes and sitting on the hood when he got there. “Proud of me?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said, pushing himself between her legs and leaning into her until their lips were millimeters apart. “When we go in”—their hips found each other’s, an involuntary reaction to being near each other—“I need you to do whatever I ask you to do. No games, no heroics. Can I trust you?”

  She swallowed, pulling back slightly. “Last time you went into something like this, you set yourself up to die. It can’t happen again. So can I trust you?”

  “You can trust that I love you, that I want nothing more than for you to be happy, and that I don’t want to die while they have us chained. I’m not going to die in a cage.” He cradled her face in both hands. “Look”—his voice was soft and masculine and powerful—“if it really comes down to you or me, I will always choose you. But I won’t go looking for it. Because I want a life with you. And I will try my hardest not to let anything or anyone fuck t
hat up. Not even me. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  He held her still and gave her a kiss she would remember until the day she died. Maybe longer. When he pulled away, her breath went with him. And all the other pieces of her that were left.

  She would follow him anywhere. Even into hell.

  §§§

  As they walked, Mitch’s mind went right back to the unpleasant conversation he’d had with himself on the drive over. This wasn’t a good time to be thinking. This was a very good time to be doing.

  He needed to focus on the task at hand…with both hands. He let go of hers as they neared the first of three identical buildings, knowing that being too close together would make them more vulnerable to any nasty surprises.

  But he couldn’t let go of his thoughts as easily. He’d spent his entire life being cut off, pretending his evil wasn’t part of him. It was. He was. And the longer Mitch ignored the fact, the less control he had.

  Sometimes it’s just that simple. Maybe he didn’t need to give in, or over, to Hyde. Maybe he needed to accept that the bastard was a part of him. No, that’s not quite right. He needed to accept that he was made up of just one big bastard—good, bad, and sometimes ugly. Because that was life. And even though it sucked shit a lot of the time, it was worth it.

  Proven by the woman who, right now, had stopped moving and was staring at him with a look of concern on her face.

  “All good,” he said in what, evidently, was an unconvincing way. “Good enough.”

  With that, she nodded and they kept walking. Three shitty-looking single-story warehouses, the farthest one being where Landon and Danielle were supposedly being held.

  Without discussion, he and Eden headed directly for the closest building. The front door was glass with plywood behind it. Using one of the pins she had on her belt, it took Eden about ninety seconds to pick the lock. They toured the place—noting exits, lots of unmarked doors, and a loading door in back. In the center of the maze of hallways, they found a large open space with two sets of double doors directly across from each other.

  “The other building might not be exactly the same,” she said looking everywhere.

  “It definitely won’t be—this one doesn’t have any assholes in it.”

  As they left, Mitch moved slowly, forcing himself to stay as calm and cool as the woman at his side. He could learn a thing or two from her. Had learned a thing or two…or twenty. The only thing he wasn’t 100% sure of was—when all was said and done and they were lying poolside on cheap plastic chairs with margaritas in their hands—would she still have that violent hunger in her eyes? Confidence he could handle, appreciate, admire. But only if it came peacefully. Only if it came without risk.

  He took her hand, brought her palm to his lips, and then let go. This wasn’t a good time to hold hands and sign each other’s yearbooks. This was the time to get in, cause as much damage as necessary, and then get the hell out.

  In a discreet walk around the building they were targeting, they noticed the same five exits as the last. But the front door was chained up from the inside, and not even Eden could pick a lock through glass. The big loading door in back was boarded up, and the other doors didn’t have handles on the outside.

  But one had a keypad.

  “Pretty shiny way to get into a condemned building, isn’t it?” Unfortunately, knowing the way to get in was useless without the code.

  “Get the door for me?”

  “Wha—?” He didn’t even have time for a stupid response, let alone a decent one. She’d already grabbed his arm, shoved him into the wall, and downed the guard before Mitch even registered the door being opened.

  How come I’m not that fast? How did she even know the guy coming outside?

  “Mitch, the door!”

  He grabbed the edge right before it closed.

  Eden nudged the guard with her foot before she reached down for his gun. And it was definitely a gun. No fancy Tasers this time around. Either Whittley forgot to tell them to keep the guinea pigs alive or he and his crew didn’t give a shit what happened anymore. Either way…

  Dead is dead. Given a little time and as long as it wasn’t somewhere absolutely vital, he and Eden could heal from a bullet hole, but Landon and Danielle couldn’t. So if Mitch had to take one for the team, he’d do it. And while he healed, Landon would have to put up with his bitching and let Mitch hold the remote.

  She put the weapon into the back pocket of her jeans. “What? I’m not into guns, but better I have it than them.”

  “I just don’t want you to accidentally shoot off your ass—I like it as-is.”

  She smiled. “Safety’s on. I won’t use it until they know we’re here. So let’s go find as many as we can before that happens.”

  Going in search of people with guns wasn’t high on Mitch’s list. In fact, he’d probably put it somewhere near the bottom, right in between getting his ass waxed and going through puberty again. But since those things were never going to happen, he’d go along with her. But he sure as fuck wouldn’t be behind her, no matter how well she fought.

  He finally felt like a man again when they happened upon two guards and each had someone to hit. He didn’t look to see how she was doing. In part because he didn’t want to know if she was doing better than he was. And in the other part because, due to the amount of oh-shit-I’m-being-beaten-by-a-girl grunts coming from the guy she was fighting, Mitch knew she was doing better than he was.

  Luckily, war is like bicycling—it comes back pretty quickly. Even when you’ve had a long out-of-body experience and were just getting comfortable in your own skin again. So his ego was appeased when his opponent was KOed before hers was.

  By at least ten seconds.

  Mitch hated guns. There was something too easy about shooting someone. Taking a life should mean something, put blood on your hands so you don’t forget. But since bloody hands were guaranteed if one of these assholes shot him, Mitch took the weapons—one for him and one for Landon.

  Having a gun didn’t make him more confident though. They still had no idea how many guards there were or how much longer their luck would hold out. And seeing as this was Texas, he just hoped they weren’t being corralled into a pen they couldn’t get out of without being branded.

  Chapter XXXV

  Only a few more turns led them to the least healthy, but the most useful, place to be—the large open space in the building’s center. Pretty similar to the one they’d seen in the other building, but this one had something that looked like a kitchen along one side.

  A kitchen for terrorists. There was a small fridge, a sink, and a counter covered with sciencey-crap Mitch couldn’t name. Probably where Whittley intended Danielle to work on his magical cure that put the ‘normal’ back into ‘Abnormal’. If she could do it for Whittley, she could do it for Mitch. Especially because Mitch would be really, really nice when he asked.

  If that’s possible, I could— He shook off the thought before it got too melodramatic. There were more important things to focus on and more important people to focus on. And if he didn’t get them out of here, nothing would be possible.

  In the center of the room were two very expensive-looking cages. The steel shined. They’d probably been purchased recently, just for Eden and him. That was thoughtful of Whittley. Wouldn’t want us to scratch ourselves and get tetanus, now would we? Wonder why he didn’t mention it the last time they spoke. Oh, riiiiight.

  Inside the cage closest to him, but facing the opposite direction, was Landon. Kind of.

  Mitch shook his head and took another look. The guy looked brawnier and almost as shiny as the bars surrounding him. A trick of the light that, for whatever reason, wasn’t hitting Danielle. She was huddled up against the bars of the other cage, as close to Landon as she could get. And she looked terrified.

  Two cages to open was a bit of a buzz-kill. As if one wasn’t hard enough. Mitch heard a squeak from the side of the room and dared one quick peek to kn
ow how many guards they were up against. Four men—one sitting in a chair with his legs up on a desk, the other three looking bored behind him.

  As much as Mitch hated the idea, he and Eden needed to split up. Sticking together would make things too easy for the other side. So he started pantomiming, holding up four fingers, then pointing to himself with his other hand and flipping it over, walking his fingers in a half-circle around the four he was holding up and then threw them all up and mouthed, ‘Boom.’

  He pointed at her, pretended to turn a key, and then waited for her to say, ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

  She nodded. Seriously? He’d just witnessed a miracle. And he promised himself he’d keep practicing until he could out-mime a Frenchman.

  All the time I’ve spent trapped in a box has gotta be good for something.

  He pulled her close and whispered, “Remember how pissed I’m going to be if you have any more holes in you than you do right now. I like those. A lot. But only those.”

  She gave him a quick kiss. “Whatever happens, we meet back at the warehouse.”

  He moved through the hallways quickly, hoping his sense of direction hadn’t become as dysfunctional as the rest of him. As soon as he saw the hazy light of the main room, he slid to a stop.

  And thank-the-devil he ended up at the doorway opposite the one he’d just left. With his back to the wall, he scooted to the edge and tried to listen for movement.

  Getting rid of four men was completely workable. Probably. The bigger, and more immediate, question was how to get the men to follow him so Eden could open the cages. He took a quick look. Just inside the room was a row of metal shelves that jutted out a few feet. Crouching down, he moved behind them.

  He might be able to shoot one, maybe two, of the guards…if he was really lucky. But his goal was to lure the men away from the room, not to start a shoot-out with Landon and Danielle stuck in the middle of it.