The Renfield Syndrome

He shared his confusion through words and the painful bite of his fingers into my arms. “I don’t understand.”

 

 

“Do you remember how you smelled things on me that couldn’t possibly exist? Things that are now long gone?” He nodded, and I continued, “That’s because I came directly from that era to here. Those scents clung to me because that’s where I’m from. The demon that appeared in the library sent me here to repay a debt. He’s fucking with me.”

 

“So what are you saying? That you traveled through time?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

 

A smoothing of his features made him appear softer, more understanding. Then laughter bubbled from him, the sound encasing the room. He didn’t release me, shaking his head. His jovial mood ebbed and he exhaled softly, chuckling. “Many things are possible, Rhiannon. Hell, I’m walking proof of it. But time travel isn’t one of them.”

 

“I’m not going to argue with you.” I tried jerking free but discovered his hands were large enough to encase my upper arms, allowing him to keep me restrained with minimal effort. “You can listen to the truth or remain stupid.”

 

“Who’s arguing?” He stopped laughing, serious again. He stared at me in a way that indicated what he was thinking just before he stated it verbally. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t care what stories you concoct. You haven’t had enough time to view the world clearly. I only want to know what it is the demon wants so we can sever the debt.”

 

“Listen to me!” I started fighting him in earnest, ready to kick his ass. “I’m not concocting shit. And you are stupid. Take a moment. Think about it. Why in the hell would I lie? What good would it do me?” When he didn’t let go, I stopped struggling, looked him in the eye, and snapped, “I can’t end the debt. The damage is done. Zagan will return in a little over a week and drag my sorry ass to Hell. You have to let me go. I will die if you keep me here.”

 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Son of a bitch! The last thing I needed was a knight in shining armor.

 

For some odd reason, my knee wasn’t as wobbly, the joint holding its own for the first time in weeks. I slid my foot between Carter’s legs and bent my leg at the knee, using his own heavy mass against him. I lunged forward and slammed my hands into his chest. I applied pressure against the back of his calf with my heel and he staggered. Our bodies parted and his hold loosened. I brought my arms to my sides and pushed back, forcing his fingers away from my skin.

 

Using my advantage, I attempted to trip him up. I kept my ankle in place, trying to force him over. He didn’t fall; not that I expected him to. His reflexes appeared to be as fast as a vampire’s—even if he was unfailingly gentle where they were deceptively strong.

 

He regained his balance, but I managed to launch onto the bed, cross it in two bouncy steps across the slippery sheets, and land with ease on the other side. My knee supported me without complaint. I had to suffocate my curiosity to see why. My attention remained on Carter, and it was obvious he was shocked at my newfound mobility.

 

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m a big girl who has taken care of herself for a long time, and I’ve seen and survived shit that you couldn’t possibly imagine. So do us both a favor. Stop underestimating me.” My chest heaved, my heartbeat accelerated. “You don’t want to believe that I’m from the past? Tough shit. I didn’t want to believe my eyes when you sprouted fur and a muzzle full of teeth, Lassie.”

 

“You’re telling me you truly believe you’re from the past?”

 

“I don’t believe shit,” I corrected him again, trying to keep my cool. “I am from the past. From the year 2014, if you want to be exact.”

 

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