Hyde (5 page)

She nodded, “Tomorrow?”

He nodded, “Yes, I will be posting a watch at
your house. The drugs the kidnapper used on you are blocking your
memories. The kidnapper might not know that.”

She bit her lip, “You think I could be in danger
still?”

He nodded, “Whoever did this to you and Rebecca
may want to finish the job.”

Terror filled her, the lack of answers was
alarming. Her aunt and uncle could want to finish what they
started, if it was really them. If it wasn’t a madman could be
after her. Either way she didn’t like the way she felt.

He squeezed her hand once before letting go,
“Don’t worry, we wont let anyone hurt you.”

He walked from the room.

She whispered, “Can you stop me from hurting
anyone?”

Chapter Four: Mithter Marcuth

She changed into the jeans and the sweater
Roland had left her. He had even bought her the very clogs she had
wanted from the shoe store at the mall. She frowned wondering about
him and put them on. She waited for the mysterious Marcus Dragomir
to enter her room.

She remembered the face she had given him in her
dreams, she wondered what he would look like.

She felt him before she saw him, the room grew
cold and her heart rate quickened. Suddenly a slight breeze lifted
her hair. She smelled a dark amber incense fill the air and she
looked at the entrance of the room, knowing somehow, he would walk
through.

He stepped in looking exactly as she had dreamt,
only his clothes were different. He wore dark jeans tailored to fit
him perfectly and a pea coat.

“Hello love.” His dark voice filled her with
thoughts she hadn’t known her brain could muster. Well except when
reading her aunts trashy novels about Scottish lords and young
helpless maidens.

“Hello Mr. Dragomir.” She wanted to seem more
mature, but her voice cracked under the pressure and she slightly
lisped the Mr. part of his name.

He smiled, “Marcus, please call me Marcus. Are
you well?” His English accent was completely intact. It was as if
he hadn’t lived in the US for very long.

She smiled back, feeling lost for a small
moment, “Fine Marcus, I’m fine.”

He clasped his hands together, “Then shall we be
off?”

She stood from her bed and walked behind him. He
paused at the door letting her go through first. They walked until
they came upon her doctor.

Marcus smiled extending his hand to him, “We are
leaving.”

The doctor smiled at Hanna, “You're a very lucky
girl, Dr. Dragomir doesn’t usually take patients on. I hope your
memories come back to you.”

She looked confusedly at the Dr. and the
supposed Dr. and nodded slowly, “Yeah thanks, me too.”

Marcus put his hand out for the doctor, “It was
nice seeing you again Frank. Happy Thanksgiving.”

He smiled and shook his hand, “You too. Take
care Hanna.”

“Thanks.” She felt more lost than ever. They
walked to the elevator.

She stepped in shaking her head as the doors
closed, “Doctor?”

He laughed looking at her, “Eternity is a long
time love. I have several doctorates.”

She frowned, “Is one in psychology?”

He nodded, “It is indeed.” He stood rigidly at
the entrance not looking at her. She watched him like a tiger would
watch a hare. She couldn’t bear the smell of him, it made her want
to spin him around and kiss him passionately.

The elevator dinged for the ground floor, waking
her from the visions she was having.

He turned smiling at her, “Sorry I’m a bit like
Santa would be for little kids, its not intentional.” She blushed
realizing he could hear her panting as she imagined ripping his
clothes off and licking up his throat.

She bit her lips, “How can I make it stop?”

He shrugged, “Not sure but I know women have
grown to detest me so intensely they learned to hate the scent.” He
stepped off the elevator holding the door for her, “Perhaps you
will be one of those lucky ones.”

She nodded wishing it as well, she hated not
controlling her feelings around him. She didn’t even know what he
was. Not like she knew what she was either.

She made it as far as the black car waiting for
them at the front of the hospital. An older driver opened the door
for them. She climbed in first, feeling her head clear of her
feelings for him, until he got into the car. The smell filled the
car putting her into a trance. She opened the window as the driver
started the car and put her head out.

Marcus laughed, “Its not that bad is it?”

She groaned, “It's making me car sick is all.”
She lied. His smell was making her insane, she wanted to destroy
him. She wanted to sink her teeth into his skin, hearing him moan
in pain and pleasure simultaneously.

“Who are you?” she asked out the window.

He chuckled, “All in due time love.”

“Its Hanna, not love.”

“Hanna isn’t actually your name.”

She pulled her head in the window giving him a
look of absurdity, “What?”

He shook his head, “No your real name is Maria
Hanna Jekyll.”

She burst into laughter, “Jekyll, no it's
Holland”

He put his hands in the air, “Its true your
father changed his name several times in his life. But your real
last name is Jekyll. Your first named came from his mother, an
Italian woman who married a Scottish man named Jekyll.”

“In the seventeen hundreds right?”

He grinned mischievously, “You’ve read the
journals.”

She nodded as the car made its way into the
night traffic downtown, "It's too bizarre to understand."

He leaned into her, “There is much for you to
understand Hanna.” His breath swept softly across her face
increasing her heartbeats. Her breath became ragged as he leaned
against her speaking slowly, “I’ve always wondered about you. I was
forbidden to make contact while he was alive."

She looked into his dark blue eyes, so dark they
appeared to be black from a distance. Up close they were crystal
clear and navy. The darkest longest lashes she had ever seen,
framed his beautiful eyes. His skin was olive and smooth, as if no
beard grew on his face but up close she could see the stubble very
faintly. His dark hair sat perfectly coifed on his head, as if a
stylist had readied him to come and see her. He had a slight faux
hawk with his hair being pulled forward and not one strand out of
place. His face was strong with chiseled cheekbones and jaw line.
His lips were as sensual as she recalled. They moved with his
breath, that was apparently as ragged as her own. He examined her
as she did him. She noticed how his upper lip twitched as if he
wanted to say something.

She smiled, “Where are we going?”

He leaned in pressing his lips against hers
softly at first. The taste of his mouth filled hers, the amber
incense filled her nostrils. She moaned into the kiss as he pulled
her up onto his lap. She met the hunger and passion in his kiss and
upped the ante with her fingers sliding through his perfect hair,
pulling it slightly. He moaned into her, gripping the pockets of
her jeans, grinding her against him. The car stopped bringing her
back to reality.

She pulled away breathless looking at him, “What
are you?” She whispered.

He frowned, “Nothing. And everything.” He
smirked, “Well after you my lady.”

She sighed, “I know what you are.” He looked
nervous as she kissed his lips, “You’re trouble.”

He laughed into her kiss, “Without a doubt.”

She climbed off of him feeling ridiculously, as
she exited the car door. The strange and silent driver held the
door for her. She looked at the older man, “Thank you.” He tipped
his hat at her. She knew instantly he was like his boss, like her
father, he was old but much older than he seemed.

Marcus climbed from the car and gave her his
arm. She took it feeling like Mary in her father's journals
suddenly. She looked around realizing she was home.

She looked at him confused, “Why are we at my
house?”

“This isn’t your house Hanna, this never was.
The Tudor is your home. This is your aunt and uncles home. We are
here because it’s the night they never thought would come.”

She rolled her eyes sighing, irritated by the
cryptic behavior everyone around her seemed to have.

He laughed, “No I’m serious, they never loved
you. Your father and I were friends, I’ve watched you grow up.”

She cringed away from him, “You’re like a creepy
uncle then? No wonder he forbid you to make contact with me.”

He laughed again, “No not quite but I guess in
some ways I’m the closest thing you have to family. Well and Roland
of course.”

She looked at him disgustedly, “You kissed me,
you think of me as family and you kissed me.”

He tilted his head, “I don’t think of you like
I’m related to you, I’ve just known you your entire life and you
father nearly all of his.”

She looked away seeing the light of her aunt's
house from the suburban street where they walked, “Why are we
here?”

“I want you to see what they are doing this
evening, the night before you return home.”

His voice sounded distant, as if he were already
disappointed for her.

She looked up at the two-story house, it was
like any house on the block. The lights were on inside making it
look warm and homey. They walked from the sidewalk of the quiet
empty street to the lawn of the house she had always considered
home. They crept along the side of the house to the back porch. He
walked first to the kitchen window, crouching so as not to be seen.
She glanced around feeling guilty about sneaking around the house
like a criminal. She walked slowly to his side and peered in the
kitchen window carefully, so as not to let her face be seen from
the inside.

Her uncle was at the table mixing something, a
white powder into the sugar canister. She looked at Marcus who
nodded, “Poison.” He mouthed. She frowned again looking in the
window to see him wearing rubber gloves while doing it. He closed
the lid and handed it to her aunt, who looked distracted by
something she was reading. She put it down on the table in front of
him, it was a piece of paper. She couldn’t read it from the
distance the table was from the window. She watched as her aunt put
the canister on the counter and frowned, “Now bloody well remember
not to use the white sugar, tell her you’ve switched to honey.”

He nodded reading the letter, “What if we just
asked her for the money?”

Her aunt flew into a rage slamming her hand down
on the counter, “YOU IDIOT. YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF WE TELL
HER ABOUT THE MONEY. SHE WILL LEAVE AND TAKE IT ALL WITH HER. SHE
WILL FORGET ABOUT US. SHE IS A SELFISH TEENAGER WHO HAS NEVER
THANKED US FOR RAISING HER. WE ARE OWED THIS.”

Her rant caused Hanna to wince and shrink down
from the window. She looked at Marcus who nodded, “The cookies.” He
mouthed.

Her eyes flew wide-open, “The cookies? They
killed her?”

He nodded, “She was poisoned, it never got
released to the media because you were missing and the culprit was
never found.” His whispers were hard to read but she got he
point.

“I will kill them both.” She whispered softly
not looking at him, "How could they?"

"Money Hanna. You have a lot of it."

Her skin crawled.

She crept back from the window and snuck off the
deck into the back yard. She ran into the bushes behind the house.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to run until her legs collapsed
beneath her. How had the police missed it? How had her father not
seen it was a possibility? How had Roland let her feel guilty about
Rebecca’s death? How had someone like Marcus known and no one else?
How had the beautiful police officer not told her about the poison?
What was she? She wanted answers, she knew where to get them but
she didn’t know how to get them. She didn’t know what Marcus wanted
from her. She didn’t know where she fit into his plan but she could
see from what he had done he wanted something. Why else would he
have cared enough to show her what he knew about her aunt and
uncle?

She screamed when she was deep in the woods
nearly to the stream, which was a mile from her house. She stopped
running and screamed, she screamed for Rebecca who never got the
chance to scream. She screamed for her parents who never got to
know her. She screamed for good measure, in case she missed
anything she couldn’t put her finger on at that moment.

“You can't kill them, you will be caught.”

She spun to see him standing beside her not out
of breath, not sweaty as she was from the run and she screamed at
him, “WHAT ARE YOU?”

He laughed, “I am everything and nothing,
literally.”

She started to laugh and cry simultaneously,
“You’re god then. Hey, god? Well god what I want for Christmas is a
gun.” She laughed harder realizing she was making no sense, but
then she felt it. The sweating progressed, the world spun and a
scream filled her ears. She looked at Marcus as her world
distorted. The last thing she would later recall was his beautiful
face laughing at her, but backing away.

Chapter Five: Even grumpy pancakes can't
cure that

“Miss Hanna?” Roland’s voice soothingly woke her
from her restful slumber. She moaned feeling his warm hand brush
against her face, “Oh Miss Hanna I’m so sorry. I thought it would
be like your father.” His voice sounded devastated.

She opened one eye feeling the dim light of the
room bring on an instant headache. She squinted, “Roland?”

He smiled, “Yes, it happened again.” He looked
over his shoulder, “Fortunately Mr. Dragomir was with you.” His
voice changed to something she recalled from earlier, when he
warned her against the man.

She looked past him to Marcus standing in the
entrance to her room. His face was like reading a stone. She
wondered if he were worried or disgusted at the hideous monster she
no doubt become.