The Renfield Syndrome

Before I could dwell on the significance of what I’d learned, Victoria was whispering into my ear, “Mindless savages, that’s all they are. What were once God’s protectors of men have become nothing more than animals. It’s a shame. When they’re not furry and repulsive, they make excellent lovers.” She smiled at me, voice pleasant and unchanging. “I’m certain Paine is excellent in bed, but if you’ve never had a wolf…” She leveled me with a look that made my stomach churn. “Do you like to be fucked good and hard?”

 

 

The question should—and would—have been offensive if she’d asked the average person, but since I worked as a bartender in a strip club back in my time, it didn’t even scratch the surface. There wasn’t much anyone could say that could shock me. For a blissful moment, I felt like I was back at The Black Panther Lounge, facing a drunk who hoped if he treated me extra special, he might get into my pants.

 

“Like a bastard nail,” I said while I thought to myself, straight into a fucking coffin.

 

“No, really.” Her smile reminded me of the Cheshire Cat—laughable to children and horrific to adults who knew better. “If you’re interested, I’m sure I can arrange something. Paine has had you to himself all day, and I can tell he’s not cemented your union. You must be dying for sexual release.”

 

Thinking fast on my feet, I gave her a smile as fake as the silicone breasts the dancers at the BP financed like used cars. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m still suffering from jetlag.”

 

She shrugged and turned away. “Look at them,” she mused as one of the werewolves bit into the shoulder of the other and removed a sizeable portion of flesh, revealing a disturbing flash of bone. “For all of their stupidity, they are exceptional in their violence.”

 

“Why are they fighting each other?” I recalled how close the pack was at Carter’s compound. Even though there was a traitor in their midst, there appeared to be a very strong connection between them. Nothing at all like what I was witnessing at the moment.

 

Victoria laughed, and my skin crawled at the lyrical sound coming from something so evil. “Leave it to someone like you to question the why of it.”

 

She pointed to the left and her long, lacquered nail flashed vermillion as it caught the light from the sconce. “We caught that one when he came sniffing around the kennels.” She pointed to the right, wriggling her finger. “And that one lost his female when the guards got involved. Needless to say, they’ve wanted a piece of each other for quite some time.”

 

“Kennels?” I echoed hoarsely, feeling sick. “You keep them caged?”

 

“Some of them, yes.” She sounded bored. “Those who have become familiars are allowed certain privileges, but they are the rare exception. We can’t have strays running around.” When I didn’t respond, she gave me her undivided attention, and I realized that from here on in her focus was something I wanted to avoid like the plague. “What did you expect? They are animals.”

 

“They’re also people,” I corrected before I questioned the sanity of speaking.

 

She moved faster than I could see, grasped my chin in her fingers, and lowered her head until we were nose to nose. It wasn’t a painful hold, but being so close to her caused my heart to skip.

 

“They are whatever I say they are.”

 

She didn’t bother waiting for my affirmation, releasing me just as quickly as she’d snatched me up. I resisted the natural impulse to rub the area she’d touched, wanting to wash away the feel of her fingers and the tips of her long nails against my skin.

 

The shuffling noises behind us provided a distraction from the bloody fight taking place only a few feet in front of me. I angled my head slightly, peering at the commotion from the corner of my eye. Paine was trying to force his way past the guards surrounding him. He met my gaze, and I quickly turned away, unnerved by the emotions I’d perceived earlier, combined with what I now recognized in the pools of shimmering onyx aimed in my direction.

 

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