Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy Read Online Free Page A

next time you’re almost killed, kidnapped by armed men, and then wake up in the enemy’s extra bedroom, let me know how you feel.”
    Alex waved her hands in front of her. “Never mind. Let’s just get this over with. Mitchell Turner. We were talking about Mitchell. You call him ‘Mitch’ though, don’t you?”
    Mitch . Even hearing his name hurt. He was a part of her, even more than Chastity. He’d reached a place inside her that she had never known existed. Reached it, caressed it, loved it, until she’d been reborn with a feeling of worth and love. And then he’d tossed that part of her like a dirty sock, shut her out, just when she’d realized that she never wanted to live without it. Because of fear. Fear of himself—of what he was, of who he was.
    Sitting in the house of the enemy, Eden shared some of that fear. But it was subdued. Controlled by a part of her that seemed more present than it had ever been—Chastity. The sister she’d never wanted, the world’s worst best friend, the woman men wanted and women wanted to murder.
    Chastity was not only in the room, the bitch was in Eden’s mind and body, occupying space that wasn’t hers. Not while Eden was awake. And she couldn’t have it. Not if Eden could stop her.

CHAPTER II
    Mitch was stewing in his cage. A slow simmer of pain, disappointment, and—hell, why not—a huge motherfucking dash of plain, old anger. When he’d told Eden to go away, that they could never be together, he hadn’t expected this. Someone taking her was not acceptable. It was— Shit . Unimaginable torture. Except he was living it, not imagining it.
    Hyde was doing a constant push-pull inside of him, allowing Mitch to venture out of his house, away from the cage and the morphine. But only in short spurts. He couldn’t afford to be caught in public whenever Hyde gnawed his way out. Because he knew exactly what would happen. And while he pretended not to give a shit about anyone, he did. If anyone was going to die, it should be him. And it would be. But only after she was safe.
    “Give the floor a break,” Landon said, watching Mitch pace. “The wood will probably give any minute. You’re gonna end up downstairs pretty soon, and I’m not leaving my drink to go rescue you.” He took another swig of his whiskey and set it down on the table. Right next to a big-ass syringe and the key to the cage.
    Mitch stopped. “Let me out. He’s gone.” For now.
    “You sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure,” he grumbled. “Why would I tell you to open the goddamned cage if I wasn’t?”
    “Because you have a shitload of drugs in your system that might impair your judgment? Not that your judgment would be any good without the drugs. At least not when it comes to her .”
    Mitch clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply. What could he say? The cop was right—his judgment had been impaired from the moment he’d met her. And in the last two weeks nothing had improved. Hyde was so fucking unpredictable now, Mitch spent at least half of each day in the cage. The other half was spent searching for her, cursing the motherfucking world, and fighting off Hyde’s tugs until he couldn’t do it anymore. Then he got to hurry back to his prison cell or shoot himself up again, depending on how bad-off he was. Good times, good times.
    For now , Mitch wasn’t all that concerned about addiction. He only shot up when the pain and the pull got to be too much. The rest of the time, he relied on the trusty steel of his cage and his cuffs. Nice things to have faith in—metal needles and metal bars.
    Landon scratched his cheek before easing out of the chair, grabbing the key, and unlocking the door. As soon as he heard the click, Mitch pushed the door open, taking a quick breath of freedom before heading downstairs.
    Landon trailed after him. “Where are you going?”
    “Back to the hospital. I’m going to ask around again.” He pushed mail and take-out ads around the side table in the foyer. If he