The Renfield Syndrome

Marianne had been killed, taken away from her life before she was ready. Her soul couldn’t rest until justice was served. I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do. My time was limited and I had no idea who killed her, or how in the hell she had died.

 

“Great,” I grumbled, “a ghost with a vendetta. Just what I need.”

 

I turned and peered around the apartment.

 

The space, while very much the same, was also markedly different.

 

A beautiful fawn leather sofa replaced the dark brown cotton couch I’d seen nestled against the wall, and a matching leather recliner was situated in the cozy corner beside it. The homey touches in this reality were long gone.

 

“They stripped the entire unit after I died,” she informed me, as if reading my mind. “Lycae are not susceptible to the Renfield Syndrome, but the humans they bring into the fold are. When I succumbed to my malady, they took everything from the building. I imagine they burned it.”

 

My chin jerked upright, and I met her level stare. “You were human?”

 

“Yes, I was.”

 

She was human and had died from the syndrome. Shit.

 

It was obvious she was only in her twenties, and she had lived here among werewolves. That meant she came into contact with the Renfield virus at some point, which wasn’t good news for me.

 

I hoped the shit was long gone and I didn’t need to worry.

 

“How did you contract the virus? I assumed the vaccine was destroyed after the world got jive to the damage it caused.”

 

She bent at the waist and tugged at her right pant leg around her booted foot. I noticed thin tears in the material and a slathering of blood, so minor it was easy to escape notice. She brought the garment to her knee and revealed a portion of her calf that had been on the receiving end of one hell of a bite. The wounds were ragged and deep, the largest two displaying white flashes of bone.

 

“Sweet baby Jesus.” I crinkled my nose. “One of them bit you?”

 

“Humans can’t transmit the syndrome. That can only happen with a vaccination. A werewolf carrier gave me the virus.” She released her pants and they fell to her ankle as she stood. “She knew everyone would think the transition caused my death. I wouldn’t be the first human to die after being infected by a Lycae. There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that you’ll survive the effects of the bite. The fever alone is enough to fry your brain.”

 

“A carrier?”

 

“A human who had the vaccine but was transformed to a Lycae before the syndrome manifested in their body. Lycae are immune to the virus, but those who have carried it never lose it. It builds in them to the point that one bite will send a human into the final stages of the syndrome. The breakdown of the body is much the same as that of the transition, as the syndrome is transmitted through us by saliva.”

 

“Who’s the kid?” I asked, thinking of the boy that was able to perceive her presence. “Why did he bring me here?”

 

“My son, Joshua.”

 

I took a closer look at her.

 

I could see the resemblance.

 

They had the same almond eye shape and softly rounded noses.

 

“He’s human?” I hated to ask the question, feeling just as ignorant in this reality as I did my own. The more things changed, the more they stayed exactly the fucking same. “Is he a carrier?”

 

“No, he isn’t human and he’s not a carrier.” She seemed thankful. “His father is Lycae, so Joshua inherited the trait during conception.”

 

“His father, as in your husband?”

 

“Yes.” She appeared confused and stared at me oddly. “I’m sure you’ve met Quinn. He’s the beta of the pack, the second in command under Carter.”

 

“Nope.” I sighed, suddenly tired and cranky. “I’m always the last one to meet the people I should or know the things I need to.” I did recognize her husband’s name, but I had yet to meet the man. Even if I had, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. There were too many new faces here, all of whom I had zero interest in getting to know on a personal level.

 

The amulet came to life again, burning and scorching my skin.

 

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