39

The wind whips at my skin as I reach the graveyard.

It's the city's largest, and the closest to Jackson's home. It's midnight, just like Jackson instructed. He told me to meet him here, in that coded, unspoken way this afternoon. Unless I've completely misjudged this situation.

The stroke of midnight. A place among the dead.

I push against the wrought iron gate. It should be locked, but it creaks open.

There are two halves at war within me. I want to beright. But oh god, I desperately want to be wrong.

IfI'mwrong,I'vefalsely accused an innocent man, but at least Jacksonwon'tbe the killer I fear he is.

But deep in my heart, I know it must be true, especially after today.Hedidn'tlook like himself. He was crueler, colder, and somehow even more painfully gorgeous.

I scan the graveyard as I walk. Headstones sit at crooked angles amongst the weeds, set off-kilter by thorny roots of overgrown trees.

After a few minutes of walking, my eyes adjust to the moonlit night. I turn a cornerandmy stomach sinks.

There, in front of me, is a body. The man is slumped forward on a chair, his hands hidden behind his back.

I step forward, but his head jerks up. I leap back with a gasp of fright.

"Please…"The man groans, his gaze finding my face in the darkness."Please help me."

I curse under my breath."Stay stillandI'llhelp you out of these ropes."

Why do I suddenly feel likeI'mwalking into a trap? I thought Jackson—Hyde—wanted to finally confront me face to face. But what if hejustwants me dead?

I kneel, swiftly pulling out my switchblade to cut the boundman"stight wrist ropes.

But then a hitch in my chest gives me pause. Hyde"s words echo in my mind. I"m suddenly gripped with the distinct impression that perhaps the man I"m freeing isn"t innocent at all.

I lower the knife."I'mwith the Brookhaven PD. Can you tell me your name?"

His head lolls to the side as he answers."Terrance Matthews."

"Who did this to you, Terrance?"

"Idon'tfuckin'know. Some freak in a mask attacked me and threw me in a trunk."

I pause."Have you ever known a manby the name ofJackson Keller?"

He goes still for a moment, his eyes flitting up to mine.

"N—no.I'venever known anyone by that name."

I can hear the terrified lie in his words, butI'lljusthave to dig into that afterI'vegottenhim out of here.

He jolts forward suddenly, thrashing against the ropes."Lady, can you get me the hell out of here already? That bastard could show up again at any minute."

I quickly carve my knife through the thick ropes. They fray apart, freeingTerrance'shairy wrists.

I gesture toward the direction of thegraveyard"sexit, signaling for him to follow. With my gun drawn, I lead the way, and Terrance creeps behind me.

Suddenly,there'sa rustle to our left. Terrance yelps and dives to the side.

Hyde.

His form appears out of a shadowy stretch of gravestones under the trees.He'swearing the same dead-eyed mask and black hoodie drawn up around his face. Such a stark contrast to the sophisticated image of Jackson Keller.

Heat ripples through me. He's cold, menacing strength incarnate.

Terrance screams, an animalistic sound ripped from his throat. He turns to runbutHyde is too fast.

I swing my gun around to face them, but the tussle is a blur; Ican'tshoot and risk hitting Terrance.

"Freeze!"I scream, butit'stoo late. The word leaves my mouth as Hyde smashesTerrance'shead against a gravestone, hard enough for a crack to echo through the air. Hyde letsTerrance'sbody fall to the ground in a heap.

Please don't let him be dead.

Terrance lets out a groan from the ground. I breathe a sharp sigh of relief, but he needs medical attention soon ifhe"sgoing to survive.

Slowly, Hyde turns to face me. His leather gloves glisten with blood in the moonlight. He moves closer, unfazed by my gun. Idon'tbudge, my heart hammering against my ribs.I'mparalyzed with a heady cocktail of fear and anticipation.

"Smart little dove. You knew exactly whereI'dbe tonight. Tell me, how did you know?"His voice is calm, almost taunting.

He wants me to say it, to admit I know who he really is. But my mouth is numb.

His hand reaches out, the leather caressing my cheek. It feels like fucked-up, poisoned ecstasy to feel his touch again."Have you finally figured it out, Ava?"

It's now or never.

"Jackson," I breathe.

It falls from my lips like a dead weight. The name that once brought me comfort now feels like a blasphemous curse.

"Jackson,"he murmurs, echoing me.

I lift my gaze to his mask. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it's not true."

His cold, distorted voice is mocking."See for yourself, Detective."

He bows hishead,enough for me to reach him more easily. Holding my breath, I reach upward, my other hand still gripping my gun. My hand is trembling as my fingertips touch his mask. It feels likeI'llburst into flames at the contact.

I ball my fist into the back of the mask, the fabric crumpling in my hand.

I slip the mask off. The sight feels like a punch to the gut.

It's Jackson's face.

His dark, deep-set eyes, framed under thick lashes, appear black in the darkness. His hair is moredisheveledthan usual, and his sharp jaw is tensed.

But he looks different.

Cold, evil.

Hungry for something no meal could ever provide.

I nearly sob the words. "It's you."

The last tiny shred of hope that I had somehow concocted this crazy theory in my head go up in flames. Allthat'sleft is dead, barren ash.

"I knew you'd find out sooner or later, Ava. I've been looking forward to this."

His words hit me like a slap, one that stings more thanFrank'sever could. Because without the mask electronically distorting his voice, he sounds so much like Jackson. My therapist. Someone I considered my confidante and my friend and even something more.

But now, his voice carries a taut, crisp quality.It'srich and low likeJackson's, but itseems to glistenwith cruel, absolute power. All the warmth and the sunshine are gone. Only the darkest, coldest midnight is left.

He hooks one hand around the small of my back and pulls me closer to him untilwe'reonly inches apart.

"Are you disappointed by your discovery, Ava?"His murmur ignites a hot coil of hunger deep in my core.

Half of me is heartbroken, but the other half feels something else entirely.

I shake my head. Ican'tbear to tell another lie. I whisper my confession, my soft breath grazing his lips.

"I wanted it to be you."

He smiles. It's unbelievably cruel, yet utterly transfixing. The crooked tug of his lips is different from Jackson's charming grin.

"Are you glad Jackson turned out to just be a lie?"

I shake my head, pulling back from his grip. I figure out when people are lying for a living. How could Jackson have tricked me so completely? When he said those gentle, kind words to me, therewasn'ta trace of dishonesty. Something just stillisn'tadding up.

"All that time I knew you as Jackson Keller, was itreallyall just an act?"

He exhales. "Ah, you sense it, don't you, Detective?"

Confusion ripples through me."What do you mean?"

He takes a step forwardandI tighten my grip on the gun."Don'tcome any closer. Start talking. I need answers."

"You want the truth?"he says."Then listen closely."

I slowly nod, my heart racing as Jackson begins to talk.

"When I was a child, my parents were dirt poor. My mother worked as a cleaner in a lab, and one dayascientist offered to pay for me to be part of his secret psychological experiments."

His face twitches. The pain is plain, unrepressed.

"Dr Blackwood.That'sall I ever called him. He was a megalomaniac who ran what he called the Utopia Project. He had a batshit idea that he could perfect the human race, and he neededchildren'sminds for his experiment. He had a close circle of men who he paid to assist him. Men like Terrance."

He spits the name out likeit"spoison.

"The science was all utter bullshit, of course.Hegrew tired oftrying to perfecttheirbrains and decided to see how far into the darknesshecould push someone instead. He chose me. He gave me a drughe'ddeveloped in his lab. Psychlipse, he called it. It was designed to induce episodes of intense, violent emotions. Each time they ended, I remembered nothing of them. It was all lost in a fog.

"He subjected me to torture, leaving me scarred, pushing me to the limits of pain. He liked to tell me to run and hide. When he caught me, he would hurt me."

My stomach flips with nausea. Hyde. Is that why he chose this name?

"Then, during one of these episodes, I killed Dr Blackwood. I fled and never looked back. Icouldn'tremember it afterward. My memories were locked away from me, and no amount of talking and healing and medicating could lift the fog.

"Amonth ago, these episodes started happening again. I felt that same sensation,feltthe darkness and bloodlust within me rising. All the memories flooded back. I tracked down the men who assisted Dr BlackwoodandI killed them.When the episodes ended,I was just Dr Keller again, with no memory of what happened."

My stomach churns as my mind races with questions. I had suspected something dark, but this is beyond twisted. And Jackson was just a child.

My voice trembles as I speak."Why is it happening to you again now? Did youtake the drugs again?"

He shakes his head."Idon'tknow why. Dr Blackwood is long dead. Butit'sdifferent this time. Something has shifted within meandit'snot going back."

"I'msorry,"I whisper. It feels absurd to tell this cold-blooded killer thatI'msorry for all the pain he suffered as a young, innocent child. Butit'sundeniably true."No one deserves that kind of torture. You were so young."

"Nowdo you understand, little dove?"he murmurs."I'vehad my vengeance. The names are crossed off my list. But we could do so much more together."

He nods at Terrance's body on the ground. "Kill him."

"What?!"

My heart stutters at Jackson's command.

"Youwouldn'teven tell your beloved therapist the full truthof it. Butthere'sa darkness inside youtoo, Ava. If you try to bury it, but it always resurfaces, more furious than before."

I shake my head. It's like I'm trying to convince myself too. "I—I'm not a killer."

How does Hyde see this in me so clearly? When I pushed Harvey down the stairs, it felt so good to destroy him.I'mfascinated with darkness just as much as Hyde.

"Do you really think this man deserves to live, Ava?"

I bite my lip. Visions ofJackson'syounger self being tortured by those men flash before my eyes. The world would be a better place without a man like Terrance. ButI'ma detectiveandI'vegiven my life to the law.

"That'snot for me to say,"I answer, my voice strained."All we can do is givehima fair trial and let the law decide."

"How… diplomatic,"he scoffs, raising his knife."But diplomacy is just a bullshit veil over the truth."

I lower my voice."If I had all the power in the world,I'dsayhedidn'tdeserve to live. But no one has all that power.It'sjust a fantasy."

Jackson'slips twitch into a grin, sending a jolt through my heart.

In a flash, he spins around and slices his blade acrossTerrance'sthroat. I gasp in shock, recoiling from the spray of blood and the dyingman'sfinal scream.

He examines the crimson-soaked blade, then smiles at me."I'llmake all your fantasies come true."

I'mtrying not to shake as I fix my eyes onTerrance'slifeless form. A depraved thrill bursts through me. Jackson, Hyde—whatever I should call him now—he'spure power.

But I should have stopped him. Guilt hits me like a freight train as the reality of another life lost sinks in.

For a moment, my grip on the gun goes slack. Jackson wastes no time; he knocks the weapon from my hands. I feel a brief stab of fear, but he just tosses it away from us.

He'snot here to kill me. He knowsexactlywhat he wants from me.

His body crashes into me, my back hitting the bark of the overgrown tree behind us. I moan, the sound heavy with desire.Terrance'sbody is just yards away on the ground, a reminder of the sinI'mcommitting by letting this killer light all my senses on fire. But Ican'thelp it.

Jackson presses his lips to mine.

I exhale sharply against his lips. ThenI'mkissing him back, drinking it in. Ican'thelp it.It'srough but passionate. Dominant but tender. Savage but composed. I can feel all his twisted duality within it.

Blood rushes to my core as I feel the heat of his tongue against my lips. This man has fucked me already. He held me tight as he came inside my body. But this is the first timehe'skissed me, andit'spushing me to the brink of losing all control.

He draws back, but Ican'trip my eyes away from his. Those were the dark, beautiful eyes hidden behind the mask every time he touched me before.

And nowthey'rethe same dark, beautiful eyes burning into mine as he gives me an order.

"Get on your knees for me, Detective."