Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy Read online

  Jekyll

  an Urban Fantasy

  Hyde, Book II

  Lauren Stewart

  Copyright © 2012 by Lauren Stewart

  Off the Hook Publishing

  ISBN: 978-0-9881701-4-8

  Cover design: Olivia Rivers

  Other titles by Lauren Stewart

  Hyde, an Urban Fantasy

  No Experience Required, a Summer Rains Novel

  Second Bite, a Vampire Novella

  Good Reads and Good Deeds

  Five percent of the author proceeds for this book will be donated to a children's charity.

  So by purchasing Jekyll, you are also doing good for others. Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHAPTER XVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XIX

  CHAPTER XX

  CHAPTER XXI

  CHAPTER XXII

  CHAPTER XXIII

  CHAPTER XXIV

  CHAPTER XXV

  CHAPTER XXVI

  CHAPTER XXVII

  CHAPTER XXIII

  CHAPTER XXIX

  CHAPTER XXX

  CHAPTER XXXI

  CHAPTER XXXII

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Notes

  About the Author

  “When the people of the world all know beauty as beauty,

  There arises the recognition of ugliness.

  When they all know the good as good,

  There arises the recognition of evil.”

  - Lao-tzu

  PROLOGUE

  “She hasn’t woken up yet.”

  “That’s one hell of a nap. And her brain is still functioning? You’re testing it regularly?

  “Yes, everything seems to be normal. But we don’t know what’s happening inside of her. Or why she’s been out so long, even without any medication.”

  “And her Hyde hasn’t shown up at all?”

  “You mean her Jekyll?”

  “Jekyll, Hyde, whatever you want to call it.”

  “There’s a big difference, sir.”

  “Do you know what I’m referring to?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, since I’ll never talk to them, I can call them whatever the hell I want.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “How about you keep your apologies for the moment you screw up? Because something always gets screwed up with these things.”

  “Um…”

  “Just tell me what’s going on with her.”

  “Her Jek— Um…”

  “Are you a moron? Christ. I thought we were done hiring morons. I’d prayed that Cabot was the last one.”

  “I’m not a moron. It’s just…strange to be speaking with you.”

  “Yeah well, with the way this program has been going lately, I’m trying to be more hands-on…without actually having my hands on anything. So tell me what’s going on.”

  “Her Jekyll hasn’t appeared. In fact, since she arrived, there have been none of the dramatic physical changes we normally observe during a transformation, other than her heartbeat and sporadic changes in her brainwave patterns. Her heart rate reverted to a human beat only a few hours after she arrived. And despite her lack of activity, her muscle mass seems to have increased. But those are the only physiological changes we’ve seen since.”

  “So she wasn’t given anything to trigger it?”

  “Nothing. She went drug-free a few weeks before we brought her in. According to Carter Poole, her handl—”

  “I know who Poole is.”

  “Right. So once he stopped giving her the serum, she began to revert, but we have no idea why she’s still asleep. If it’s a transition, it’s one we’ve never seen before. But we’re hopef— No, we are ‘considering the possibility’ that her human-self and her Jekyll may have…merged.”

  Pause. “That’s great fucking news.”

  “Yes, sir. It is.”

  “Holy hell. That’s fantastic.” Pause. “What about her eyes?”

  “Again, no change since she came in. They haven’t gone back to their human color. That alone suggests she’s altered, but we won’t know how much her behavior has changed until—”

  “Yeah, I get it—we can’t move forward with her until she wakes up. If she wakes up.”

  “Assuming she does, what am I supposed to tell her? Whatever I say, she’ll think is a lie.”

  “Then tell her the truth. But don’t go overboard. Tell her what she is and why we need her. See what she does with that.”

  “And if she doesn’t believe me?”

  “Then tell her about Turner. She’ll want to protect him. Hopefully, she’ll do whatever she has to do to keep him alive. So give her a rough timeline. And if that doesn’t work, threaten her.”

  “Sir, with respect, that’s not was I was hired to do here.”

  “You should’ve read your contract more closely, Bertram. I’m sure there was something in there about DOING WHAT YOU’RE TOLD TO DO! Let me know when she’s conscious. Shit, she’d better wake up. She could be the answer to everything.”

  CHAPTER I

  Eden felt someone nudge her arm. Oh man, where’d she end up this time? Her head felt like it had been used as a battering ram, her body like it hadn’t been used in eons. Heavy, sore, feeble. She was lying down on something soft, that much she knew. So she wasn’t on Mitch’s front step again.

  “Eden, are you awake?” The voice was familiar. Vaguely. Definitely too feminine to be Mitch’s. Not to mention too nice. “Eden?”

  Cracking open her eyes was a task in itself, one she was almost too weak to do.

  A woman with black hair stepped backwards and leaned against the wall, the end of her ponytail hanging over one shoulder. And she was smiling.

  Don’t trust it. When death came for her, he’d be smiling too.

  Eden looked around the room. It was sparse—the twin-size bed she was lying on, ugly gray walls, and…not a lot else. Door. There was a door. One she intended to walk through immediately. She jerked up painfully, but her wrists were strapped down.

  “Let me go!”

  “You need to stay calm.” The woman came forward hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure what to do. So Eden told her.

  “Get these things off of me!”

  After a quick exhalation, the woman said, “We only used them so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

  Yeah, sure. As if straps would stop someone who was determined to hurt themselves. The woman should be more concerned with what Eden would do if she didn’t take them off.

  As soon as the teeth of the Velcro ripped apart, Eden swung her legs onto the floor, throwing her hands onto the mattress for balance as a wave of nausea hit her.

  “You shouldn’t move too quickly. Give your body a chance to get used to moving again.”

  “Where am I?” she asked. At least it wasn’t the morgue. Anything else she could deal with. Eventually. But right now, she was having trouble just sitting upright.

  Holding her hands out in front of her, the woman said, “You’re safe.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” Even as disoriented as she was, Eden knew it was wrong to be here. Her instincts were screaming, ‘Get up, get out, and get free’.

  The woman no
dded. “Fair enough. How can I convince you?”

  “Well, for starters you could show me the exit. Then we could go out sometime and get to know each other better. At least, I hear that’s how it’s done.” Where was Mitch? Where was Carter? Why couldn’t she remember anything?

  No. She’d worry about that later. Right now, she needed to focus on getting out of wherever she was. Because nothing was safe for her anymore. No one was safe for her either. Everything else was a blur, but that she knew. Trust no one, especially anyone who would keep me in cuffs.

  As Eden stumbled towards the door, the woman backed up, blocking her way. But the expression on her face—wariness with a little bit of panic—proved she knew she wouldn’t be able to even slow Eden done. Good, that was a good place to begin.

  “Wait! You’re in a clinic. You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you.”

  A clinic? She looked down at what she was wearing—typical god-awful hospital gown. Considering how much Chastity hated clothing, the fact that Eden was wearing anything at all was a shock. She checked her wrists, turning her hands over multiple times, looking for signs of bindings stronger than the ones she’d woken up in.

  What she saw instead were countless pale lines of scar tissue up and down her arms, on the palms of both hands. Already healed, leaving only thin reminders of two fights, one of them ending in someone’s death. Whose? The memory flashed in her mind.

  She remembered getting those wounds. The fight. The fight with Jolie and…and Hyde. Then afterwards, a look of horror on Mitch’s face when he’d seen what he’d done to her. Followed by the look of defeat when he closed the door in her face, shutting her out of his life because he couldn’t deal with it anymore.

  Chastity had taken her innocence, and Mitch had stolen back the sense of safety she’d had when she’d been with him. Part of her wanted to lie back down on the bed, curl into a ball and weep for all she’d lost. How quickly she’d lost it.

  But another part of her wanted to shove the stranger up against the wall and scream at her until she told her what the hell was going on. How she got here, what had happened after Mitch had given up on them. And on her.

  Weakness can wait. Getting out can’t. “I want out of here now.” She spoke through her teeth, her hands in tight fists at her sides.

  “Okay,” the woman said nervously.

  As soon as she stepped out of the way, Eden was at the door, easily pushing it open despite its apparent heft. She peeked out to make sure she wasn’t going to walk into something even worse and then stepped into the hallway.

  The woman grunted as the door swung into her. “We had no intention of forcing you to stay.”

  “Golly, thanks.” Eden looked down the empty hallway, one way and then the other. There was nothing. No indication of which way to go. No signs that said, ‘Over here, Eden. Go this way to get out.’ Damn it. “Which way?” she shouted. “Which way to get the fuck out of here?”

  Eden flinched. Did I just say that? “Fuck,” she said again. The word felt smooth on her lips, but abrasive on her mind. How could that be? A rush of dizziness hit her head, forcing her back a step.

  Hyde…I killed Jolie…reading Carter’s letter in Landon’s unmarked police car…the tap of a gun on the car window…a fight. Little pieces of memories appeared, different than the flashbacks Chastity had given her. Less like a movie playing in her mind and more like the truth. Truth she knew and had lived. The part of her she’d never been able to understand or accept felt familiar, like a good friend. But Chastity wasn’t her friend or anyone else’s friend. Who’d want a friend with no impulse control, no moral compass?

  “What’s wrong with me?” she whimpered, her body starting to shake. She felt cold. Not because she was barefoot on the tile floor. Because she felt naked, exposed, all the way to her soul.

  “We don’t know.”

  Eden flipped around to face her, advancing.

  The woman rushed back into the room they’d just come out of, yelling, “Security!” into a small box on the wall. The sound of her fear echoed through the hallway, until it was overtaken by the sound of a door around the corner opening and multiple feet hitting the tile. Someone was coming.

  Two large men in black t-shirts and pants came around the corner, straight for her. Before she had a chance to comment on their matching attire, a fight-or-flight war started between her mind and her body. What were the chances she could outrun them? Down an unknown hallway that might lead anywhere—to a dead-end or more guards. Could she fight them? Could Chastity? Damn it. The weakness of her body wouldn’t allow either of them a chance. But she’d try. Hell yeah, she’d try. She wasn’t going to just lie down anymore. Not for anyone.

  There is no way this isn’t going to hurt.

  The men slowed when they got about ten feet away. They must have weighed at least 250 a piece. Great. Five hundred pounds of professional muscle against 125 of untrained and terrified girl. But she had a lot more to lose than they did. She hoped that would be enough.

  Her eyes widened as she looked down at her body. A lightness filled her chest, even as her muscles tensed and her legs spread for balance. As if it wasn’t hers at all. Overpowering her desire to run the hell away, a wave of calm—of control, of confidence—kept her feet planted firmly on the floor.

  “Oh shit.” As the word hit the air, Eden realized not even her mind was her own. This is so very, very not good.

  Unconsciously, she scanned their bodies, looking for weakness. They were heavy which meant they wouldn’t move as fast. But there were two of them which meant she’d need a miracle to get past them. Her mind raced, trying to find something she possessed that they didn’t. There wasn’t much, not that would help in a fight. But she was smart, and if the stereotype of henchmen was correct, they were not. It was a big leap, but sometimes the bottom of the cliff is preferable to what’s at the top.

  “Be careful with her,” the woman said, still hiding behind the door. “She’s still weak.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Eden grumbled. But it was true. She was weak.

  The larger of the two—by about an inch—caught the eye of his partner and nodded. Probably trying to corral her, they stepped forward confidently leaving a small space between them. But the smaller man grimaced each time his left foot hit the floor. She looked at his leg and saw an outline of a knee brace through his pants.

  Perfect. The word appeared in her mind as if someone else had thought it.

  There is nothing perfect about this! But she knew the man’s weakness. And that was perfect. Or as close to perfect as it was going to get.

  If it was going to hurt, she’d make sure it would hurt him just as much. She surrendered to instinct, hoping her body would know what to do.

  Bracing one arm with the other, she ran at him low, just long enough to gather some momentum before contracting her abs and sliding elbows-first into him. He tried to back-step, but like a bowling ball, she slammed into his legs. Strike! The sound of his knee snapping was immediately covered up by his scream as they both hit the floor.

  As she scrambled away, she felt the other guard’s thick arms wrap around her and lift her off her feet. He held her in a bear-hug, so her violent movements held no danger. She kicked backwards, hearing her screams and his grunts distantly, as if it was coming from somewhere far away. As if none of this was real.

  The more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. Until all she was fighting for was breath. She tried to find something to latch onto, something to hurt, to bite, to beat, but he was out of her reach. And the kicks that did connect didn’t seem to bother him as much as she needed them to.

  “That wasn’t nice.” His voice was gruff, his breath warm near her ear.

  “Okay, okay. I give up.” She relaxed in his arms and dropped her head forward. As soon as she felt him stop squeezing, she threw her head back into his chin. Bone hit bone. And if the pain he felt was half of what she did, he’d be hurting for a while.

  “Christ!�
�� he yelled, the sound muffled. Hopefully by a broken jaw. But he didn’t let go.

  The woman came out of the room “Be careful with her!”

  “Are you kidding?” he asked angrily. “She almost broke my nose!”

  Damn it. Almost.

  He shifted his grip, wrapping one arm around her waist and sandwiching her neck in between his chest and his elbow.

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. But she could die.

  “I could kill you right now,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”

  Her nod was only a shiver.

  “What are you doing?” the woman shouted. “Let her go!”

  “I’m not going to,” he continued quietly as if only he and Eden existed. “Because that’s not what we do here, and I want you to trust me. But you need to know that I could have, and that I chose not to. Understand?” On his last word, he released the pressure around her neck.

  “Stop it! Let her go!” The woman’s panicked voice mixed with the whimpers of the guard holding his knee and slowly getting to his feet.

  Eden’s chest expanded as she took a deep breath, letting her lungs suck in as much air as they could. Then she nodded slowly. “I understand.” She did. Despite the pain she was feeling, she understood him, the truth he spoke. Life and death was a simple concept—you either had it or you didn’t. And whatever was going on here, she wanted to live through it.

  As soon as her feet touched the ground, she pulled against him, planning on getting just far enough away from him to kick him in the balls. But he knew what he was doing. He held her in front of him—close, like an enemy should be kept—until the other guard limped to her side.

  “You don’t give up, do you?” the guard whose jaw she’d tried to crack asked.

  She didn’t like her answer, her frustration only making her struggle more. Of course I give up. She gave up all the time! On everything. And everybody. So what the hell was so different now? Why wasn’t she playing dead or rolling over? It didn’t make sense.

  The woman approached, eyes leery, face flushed. “Well, that isn’t what I expected. I guess you have changed.”

  Eden squirmed in their arms. “Let me go!” Sure, like that’ll convince him. “You said you weren’t going to hurt me!”