The Renfield Syndrome

I hissed and reached for it, prepared to lift it up and away from my chest.

 

“Listen to me, please.” Marianne sounded desperate, her words a rush of frantic syllables. “She killed me because she wanted Quinn for herself. She had to wait years for the chance, and when she got it, she took it. She bit me when we were out doing rounds, claiming a vampire servant attacked and she bit me when I got in the way. But her plan didn’t work. Lycae only mate with females their bestial half accept and desire. That means more humans are chosen than females of their race. We’re not sure why, but Carter believes it has to do with keeping the bloodlines clean. Quinn doesn’t want her, and she’s accepted she’s got to start setting her aspirations higher if she wants a respectable place in the pack.”

 

Hissing at the burn against my fingers as I handled the jewelry, I snapped, “Don’t they know Lassie is a carrier?”

 

“Lassie?”

 

“Miss she-bitch.”

 

“Oh, her. No, they don’t. She must have been changed before she started to display any outward symptoms. The only way they will know is if you tell them. You can’t trust her. I’ve listened to her and the bitch she plots with. She wants all of the new females brought here destroyed.” Marianne placed a hand on my shoulder, and I jerked, ripping my concentration from the glowing amber pendant. “Including you.”

 

That got my attention.

 

“What? Why?” I questioned. “What the hell did I ever do to her?”

 

“If human females are not available, the males will be forced to mate within the pack. You’re next on the short list she’s prepared. She can’t risk you taking Carter away as a prospective mate. He’s alpha, and that’s a rarity in a Lycae that’s been created and not born. His children will lead the pack when he passes. That means you’ve got to go before she has the chance to bite and change you. She’s willing to risk the wrath of the pack to see it done.”

 

“Okay, listen up.” I moved away from her touch and reached for the amulet. I passed the tiny stone between my hands while trying to get a grip on the thin leather string around my neck. “I’m not sticking around this hellhole. Whoever you’re talking about can have Carter. I don’t want him. I just want to get home and pretend this has been one terrible fucking nightmare.”

 

“If Carter chose you, that means you share some level of attraction. I know it’s hard at first, but it does get easier.”

 

I shoved a palm into her face, stonewalling her completely. “Trust me. I am so not interested.”

 

“Then help me,” Marianne pleaded, her entire demeanor desperate as she grasped my shoulders. “She’ll have another female vying to take my place soon. Quinn has been alone for two years, but he won’t remain that way forever. My son deserves a mother who will love him. Not some bitch who wants to get knocked up as quickly as possible to replace my son entirely.”

 

Distracted and playing hot potato with the charm, I asked, “Who exactly is ‘she’? I can’t help you if I don’t know who in the hell you’re talking about.”

 

“You’ve met her, I heard her tell Delores about your encounter in Carter’s penthouse. She said when the pack had another meeting, she was going to make sure you weren’t a problem anymore.”

 

I tried to focus on what Marianne was saying as she prattled on about a devised plan to see me gone. I tried to block out the agonizing burn of the charm that blazed white hot. It was like the amulet was attempting to warn me of something, determined to break my concentration.

 

The connection between Marianne and me began to sever, the reality of her past becoming the reality of my present. But the words she wanted me to hear most—although bunny-rabbit soft—were clear as I zoned back into the dismal apartment with cheap dark furniture, a terrified young boy, and the woman whose name and face were just as familiar as the ghost insisted it would be.

 

“Jackson,” Marianne answered and her voice fading. “Her name is Jackson Montgomery.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

J.A. Saare's books