7. Mabel

Chapter 7

Everything hurts, and for a moment, I want to curse Creepy for whatever the hell she got up to that left me feeling like I was hit by a truck.

Then I remember.

My eyes fly open. The ceiling isn't familiar. The bed or pillows either. The sheets have a rich cinnamon smell that can't quite cover the scent of bleach, and there's no sound of Mardi Gras in the distance. I'm still in my dress from the club beneath the blanket, though my sandals are missing.

What the fuck?

I bolt upright.

Or try to.

Pain lances through my head, and a choked noise escapes me. I barely make it halfway up before I'm falling back onto the mountain of pillows, my eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing ache radiating from my skull. A duller throb comes from my thigh, and instinct drives me to press a hand to them both as I whisper a spell so softly even I can barely hear my own words.

The pain fades. My breathing slows, the adrenaline fading.

"Impressive."

Oh, shit.

I roll my head to the side, my eyes sweeping everything I can see for the source of the voice but finding nothing. It's vaguely familiar, but that's probably not a good thing.

Traders wouldn't put me in a… what is this? A hotel room? Cages were more their speed. Followed by fighting rings or worse.

I search inside for Creepy. She was the last one of us conscious, and I can't remember jack shit of what went on after she took over.

She stirs briefly. A dull, giggly feeling comes back to me, but it's muffled and dreamlike with no images or explanation to accompany it.

Not helpful. I push for more.

There's a sense of mild irritation this time. Like a little kid, she swats at me, and a grumbling sensation comes from her, as if I'm being annoying. Ignoring me completely, it feels as if she rolls over, snuggles deeper into the depths of my mind like she's burrowing into a bunch of blankets and pillows, and then she falls back to sleep.

Dammit.

A creaking sound comes from somewhere beyond the end of the bed, like someone rising from a chair. I tense, my mind running through what spells I might be able to use, except I don't even know what I'm facing.

The muscular guy from the table at the bar steps into view.

Shock hits me, but it only lasts a second before rage heats up my veins. He's involved in this?

I knew he was dangerous when I saw him at the bar. But not just him.

Where the hell are his buddies?

"You—" My throat feels like it's full of rocks, and coughing catches me almost immediately.

He circles to the nightstand beside the bed and picks up a glass of water. "Here."

I try to pull away, still coughing, but he just sits on the edge of the mattress and puts an arm around me as if to help me drink it.

I turn my face from the glass. Like hell I'm trusting anything he gives me.

Creepy stirs, wanting to snuggle against him too.

I shove her down. "The fuck… did you do… to me?"

Consternation crosses his face, but then the door opens.

"Is she—" His buddy with the blue-tipped hair stops in the doorway, worry on his face that doesn't go away when he sees me watching him.

"Drink," the big guy holding me orders.

I push away from him instead. My strength is returning. Way too slowly for my liking, but I'll take what I can get.

The consternation on his face deepens, but after a moment's consideration, he lets me go. "You really should drink. Your system reacted poorly to the drugs they gave you, and they made you have a seizure. I was able to stabilize you, but the faster you flush those chemicals from your body, the better."

I stare at him, fear trying to bubble up. Seizure? I had a seizure?

Fucking hell.

Across the room, his blue-haired buddy nods urgently at his friend's words, agreement written all over his face.

Shoving my terror back down, I scoot a bit farther away on the massive bed, not taking my eyes from them. Phineas. That's the big guy's name. And Blue Hair is Huck. Which leaves—I rack my brain for the name—Zeb.

Who might be calling the rest of his crew of traders, for all I know.

My eyes dart over the room again. I have no idea if the windows would provide an escape, but Huck is blocking the only other exit.

Dammit.

I'm pretty sure it really is a hotel, though, which can't be a good thing. And it basically screams money, which is almost worse. The walls are eggshell white and dotted with paintings that look a cut above the kind you'd find in a standard hotel room. The decor is tasteful and understated, and the bed is massive but not lumpy or clammy. The curtains are edged in gold and pulled tight over the two tall windows on the far side of the room.

Traders aren't poor, no matter how they sometimes dress. They make bank doing what they do because the people they sell to have more money than morals and they're used to using their cash to get whatever the hell they want.

I clear my throat. "Where am I?"

"Our place," Huck says right away.

Phineas gives him a short glance, like maybe he isn't sure the blue-haired guy should have answered, and it makes my skin go cold.

"We were not certain where you lived," Phineas adds like he's trying to mitigate some alarm on my part. "And given… everything, it wasn't advisable to risk a hospital."

My heart pounds. "What ‘everything'?"

One eyebrow arches like he's Mister Spock. I'm getting the impression that he's scary smart on top of being a killer.

To say nothing of how he looks like he could bench-press my car.

"You saw us, right?" Huck takes a step farther into the room, appearing alarmed and confused in equal measure. "In the alley? Why are you asking what we?—"

"How is she?" Zeb's voice comes from behind him, and Huck half turns toward the sound.

The dark-haired guy steps into the room, a tray in his hands. There's a plate of pancakes. A glass of orange juice. Even a little bud vase with a single white flower in it.

What the fuck?

"What is this?" I watch them all warily. "Who are you guys?"

Now they all share a glance like they're weighing who should be the one to speak, and maybe even what they should say.

Rising to his feet, Phineas backs away from the bed while Zeb sets the tray on a dresser and Huck just exhales sharply like he's excited for something. With a short motion, Phineas tugs his t-shirt away and then kicks off his shoes, while Zeb does the same.

My alarm grows. "What are you?—"

They shift before my eyes.

Where Phineas stood, there's now a seven-foot-tall creature from a nightmare. His head is shaped like a wolf, but with bone protruding past the black fur near his cheekbones and jaw, like the flesh couldn't contain the skull of the monster beneath. More fur covers his body, but he stands upright like a man, so he's no wolf shifter. He's muscled as hell, from his massive chest to his equally enormous arms and legs, and he has pointed ears atop his head that twitch like they're picking up every sound for a hundred miles. Something green that appears highly poisonous drips from his enormous teeth, while emerald mist rises from his gaping jaw. His hands are massive and end in dark claws longer than my fingers. His feet are longer and covered in fur too, with toes tipped by claws as well. A tail sways behind him, darkly furred but with the end turning white.

Huck is leaner. Almost deathly thin, like an emaciated corpse with his cheeks sunken and his skin drawn tight over every muscle. His arms are too long, like they were stretched on a rack, and his hands hang down by his knees, each finger far longer than it should be. His nails extend like knives growing from his fingertips, and even from here, I can tell they're terrifyingly sharp. He's taller as well, only a few inches shorter than Phineas. He's still got his blue-tipped hair, only now it's solid and spiky like sharp icicles rising from his head. His eyes are huge and shocking electric blue, and they move independently of each other, one rolling to the left and the other to the right and then back again of their own accord.

And Zeb only barely looks human. I mean, he still has a head, shoulders, knees, and toes, but from those shoulders, he doesn't have arms. No, he has tentacles. Huge ones, each coming from his shoulders and stretching to the floor with plenty more rising from his back, all fanning out around him like boneless versions of spider legs. They have suckers on their undersides, each circle dark purple like a bruise, but their other side is deep green like algae. His eyes are white, no iris to be seen, and his dark hair hangs around his face, casting his sharp features in shadow. He looks like an octopus hybrid from hell.

Creepy stirs sleepily in my mind. I swear she purrs with satisfaction. And gods help me, I'm right there with her. I know they should look horrifying. That they would, to a human or even another supernatural.

But I'm a Jekyll. They're Hydes.

Gods help me, they are incredibly hot.

The three of them shift back. They watch me like they're waiting to see what I'm going to do.

I don't know what to say. I have more questions than there is air in the room to voice them, and the way my body is burning around these guys isn't helping.

Plus, Phineas and Zeb really need to put their shirts back on.

But what makes me freeze isn't just the lust currently scorching me or the way Creepy wants to lick each of their bodies like they're candy-coated treats. It's not the way Huck has this eager grin like a puppy who wants me to be excited as well, or how Phineas looks like he's challenging me to shift too, or even how—of them all—there's a guarded tinge to Zeb's expression, like past all his confidence and bravado, I swear he's worried I'm going to run screaming now that I've seen his other form.

Or how it all melts my heart a little.

It's not just any of that. There's something magnetic about these guys. A strange draw inside myself that's pulling me to them—mind, body, and soul.

And it's terrifying.

But meanwhile, I'm sitting on this enormous bed in a tight dress, Creepy is stirring stronger in my mind, and my body is tingling at how I'm the fixation of all their stares.

I push away from the mattress and climb from the bed, keeping it between us. My leg throbs like a motherfucker, reminding me I was shot some indeterminate amount of time ago, but my healing spell clearly is working better than I expected because the wound is okay enough that I can stand. "You… How…"

Zeb and Phineas share a glance, and then Zeb gives a short shrug. His confident attitude is coming back into place. Maybe he figures if I haven't run yet, I'm probably not going to. "Phineas and I met at college. We, uh, picked up Huck about a year after we graduated."

My eyes narrow. Picked up? Something about the way he says it makes me think there's more to it than meeting on a dating app or whatever. But while Huck doesn't react to the abbreviated description, he's also drifted closer to Zeb, his body half turned toward the guy, either to protect him or be protected I don't know. But he's barely taken his eyes from me at all.

The two of them are lovers. I'd bet on it. There's a tension in the air between them, and it's not the same as the energy between Phineas and Zeb. Those two, I'd mark as just being friends.

But gods, the way they're each watching me…

Creepy likes it. My body likes it.

My brain is panicking.

Because I want to be thrilled I've met more of my kind. I do. Every lonely moment from my childhood, every minute of feeling like no one in the world could understand what I go through is pressing at me, making me want to feel overjoyed.

But then there's reality.

And the reality is, our Hydes are insane. No one who's met Creepy would think otherwise. And our Jekylls are… well, dammit, people with all the complications and messiness that comes with that, same as it does for any other species.

Add those together, and you've got a situation that's at best unpredictable and at worst dangerous as hell.

"And you just… happened to be here?" I manage to make myself say.

Again, that glance between Zeb and Phineas while Huck watches me.

"We were tracking traders," Phineas replies evenly.

"Tracking?"

"It's what we do," Zeb explains in a more friendly tone. "It's how… Well, you probably know. Your Hyde killed the one we were after. We keep our other sides happy by letting them take out the bad guys."

I tremble. That's how I keep Creepy happy too. Hydes have a strong bent toward justice, even if it's their own definition of it, based on their own rules, and doesn't always match what would come within a thousand miles of meeting human legal approval.

"We were going to intervene when the tracker grabbed that woman, but your Hyde got there first."

"You really should sit down," Huck adds. His voice is gentle. Worried too. "Phineas healed the gunshot to your leg, but it'll still take a while to fully recover."

I don't move.

The worry on Huck's face deepens.

"We're not going to hurt you," Zeb assures me. "We, uh…" He chuckles. "We wouldn't dream of it—unless of course you like that sort of thing."

"Do you?" Huck adds, a note of interest tangled up in his anxious tone.

Creepy stirs inside me, intrigued, and I bash her back so hard and fast, she goes still with shock. I never shove her that hard.

Guilt flickers in me, but I can't give in to it. Not when, of the two of us, I have to be the smart one who helps us survive this situation.

She glares at me inside my head. I ignore that too. "Okay, so why are you?—"

On the nightstand, my cell phone buzzes. I glance over in time to see Tamira's name flash across the screen.

Creepy stirs in my mind again. She's still irritated at me, but she's also suddenly worried about the call.

I'm just not sure why.

Keeping an eye on the guys, I reach over and pick up my phone. Phineas's eyes narrow, and caution flashes across Zeb's and Huck's faces, but none of them move to stop me.

I lift the phone to my ear. "Yeah?"

"Oh my God, Mabel, are you okay?" Tamira sounds breathless.

"Um, yeah? I…" Fuck, she probably saw me run out of there and hasn't heard from me since. Plus… yeah, I bet my car is sitting on the street where I left it.

Hopefully it's still in one piece.

"Sorry I didn't call," I continue.

"Girl, where are you?"

I hesitate, trying to find an answer, but she rushes on before I can speak.

"You've got to get home now, okay?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

She scoffs like it's too much to explain. "Just get here. Now."