The Renfield Syndrome Read online

  The future can be altered, but the side effects can be hell.

  Rhiannon’s Law, Book 2

  Rhiannon believed a deranged child vampire was the most dangerous adversary she’d ever face, until she discovers something far worse. Sent forward in time, she hopes to deliver a message to her vampire lover, Disco, that will break the bargain she was forced to make with the demon Zagan. Until she finds reality altered almost beyond recognition.

  Humans are nearly extinct, killed by a vaccine that was supposed to protect them from the effects of a bloodsucker’s bite. The few who have survived are now dominated by vampires. Worse, she finds that in this reality, there is no one she can trust.

  Nearly crushed by loss and betrayal, she shifts focus from severing the old debt against Zagan, to exacting revenge—with consequences she never fathomed. Only by reaching deep into the darkness within her can she hope to find the strength to fight for her life against creatures that want her dead and buried.

  Warning: Contains werewolves with wandering hands, vampires with a new thirst for blood, demons with serious issues, and a foul-mouthed heroine who refuses to become a damsel in distress.

  The Renfield Syndrome

  J.A. Saare

  Dedication

  For my editor, friends, family and readers.

  Chapter One

  Rhiannon’s Law #22: You can’t lie to yourself, so don’t bother trying. Doing so only multiplies your douchebag level to the umpteenth power and confirms what others have been saying about you for years: you are an idiot.

  Of course, I normally don’t fault those guilty of breaking Law #22. I was prone to doing the same from time to time, when I felt my back was to the wall.

  Like now, for instance.

  I looked around, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

  It couldn’t be true. I had to be dreaming.

  Yet here I was—ass down on the ground in a different reality.

  One minute, I had been in my apartment ready to get back to my vampire boyfriend. The next I was making a deal with a demon and getting my ass sent to the future as a part of the bargain. It couldn’t be real, but damn it, the concrete sure did feel cool and solid beneath my jeans, and my busted knee throbbed like a son of a bitch.

  My gaze shifted back to the newspaper in my hand.

  If the document was meant as a joke, I wasn’t laughing.

  The date on the paper indicated it was October 28, 2115, and the feature article made my holy-shit-o-meter blare like a banshee. Humans were vanishing. Not as in going missing—they were ceasing to exist as a species. Homo sapiens—once the rulers of the world—were officially on the imminent extinction list due to something called the Renfield Syndrome. The Renfield vaccine, produced during the Third World War between humans and vampires, was responsible. Apparently, it had come with nasty side effects the world hadn’t known about, killing off humans one by one.

  I flipped through the paper, desperate for more information.

  The pages were chock-full of ads. People were offering themselves as blood slaves for immortality, money and a decent place to live among vampires. The entries were morbid and reminded me of the classifieds for unwanted puppies and kittens after irresponsible owners found themselves with a litter of animals they had no room for. Only these warm-blooded mammals weren’t pets, they were people.

  The knowledge made my stomach roll, my heart race and my hands tremble.

  I blew a steadying breath through pursed lips, attempting to slow the erratic beating of my heart and get a handle on things.

  Panic—in this situation—wouldn’t do me any favors.

  The coolness of the shade against my face as the sun dipped below the horizon got my attention, putting things in perspective.

  It would be night soon. I had to find Disco.

  Disco.

  My heart spasmed, my chest weighed down.

  If not for my feelings for the man, I never would have made the deal to sever his debt with a demon. My actions had placed me one hundred and one years in the future. I had no idea where to start or where to go. I didn’t know if I had any friends or acquaintances to turn to.

  Stop. Anger surfaced, sticky and familiar. Suck it up.

  As fucked up as the shit was, I had to fulfill my part of the bargain with Zagan—the demon Disco, and now I, was indebted to. Once I had the opportunity to speak with my lover, his obligation to the sadistic creature from Hell would come to an end. All I had to do was deliver one simple message, a few short words.

  I didn’t want to remain indebted to a demon—no matter what year it was.

  Get your shit together. Get the fuck up and move.

  Groaning, I carefully made it to my feet.

  My bastard right knee ached something fierce—a dull, throbbing burn that went straight to the bone. Although my knee cap was mending, the process had been regrettably slow. I resented how uncoordinated and helpless the injury made me. I wasn’t my usual self when I needed to be in tiptop shape.

  The folded newspaper seemed oddly heavy as I headed south, in the direction of The Razor. Some things changed, but I hoped in this circumstance, others remained the same. The club that belonged to Paine—Disco’s trusted friend and the second most powerful vampire in our house—wasn’t a bad place to start. I could search for answers there. If I got lucky, not only would Paine direct me to Disco, he could also offer me protection in the surreal reality in which I’d found myself.

  Find Paine. Get off the street. Seek shelter.

  If I wanted to see tomorrow, I had to take things one step at a time.

  I walked as fast as my mending knee allowed, wishing some of the vampire blood that saved had my ass when I took on a deranged child vampire four weeks prior had mended all my wounds. A minor physical handicap was nothing when compared to crossing over to the other side, so I knew I shouldn’t complain. If it weren’t for Disco, Paine and Goose, I would have died. I’d almost stepped past the pearly gates into Heaven.

  I suppose Hell would have been worse.

  The streets were eerie, completely void of the human elements that created a community. There were no cars, no traffic, no people, no pets and—something uncharacteristic of New York—no sounds. The muffled scrape of my sneakers on the pavement was the only distinguishable noise as I scuffled along the sidewalk, seeming so loud in the misplaced silence.

  I couldn’t recall one time I’d been completely alone on a street in New York.

  My attention flickered nervously from building to building, and I studied what remained of the street and nearby homes. Several of the apartments were in shambles—the doors and windows missing. Those with opened thresholds appeared to be decimated and destroyed.

  I took a moment and peered inside one of the apartment buildings.

  From what I could see, these homes had been raided.

  Garbage, clothing, and personal belongings were tossed next to stairs. The objects outside—suitcases and garbage bags—had been opened and the contents were falling onto the street and sidewalk. It was as if the tenants had been permanently tossed out on their asses and forced to leave their possessions behind.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Why the rush? What the hell happened here?

  Did people run to escape the war? The disease?

  If so, why leave everything behind?

  I hobbled along each new street, hoping to escape the hellish nightmare, only to be greeted with more of the same. A few of the doors had huge white crosses painted on them, while others had enormous pieces of wood that were interlocked together to form the sa
me symbol.

  They’re ‘don’t beware of dog, beware of fucking owner’ warnings.

  I tried to piece the puzzle together. The newspaper showed that many humans wanted to turn to the dark side. In fact, the ads made it apparent humans were desperate. Yes, there had been a war, but there appeared to be some balance. If not, that section of the paper wouldn’t exist. Some people, apparently, didn’t share the sentiment, which was understandable. I often questioned my own relationships with vampires. Yet some wanted to embrace the change.

  A couple of times I thought I saw heavy curtains shift as I passed. I paused, gazing at windows. Unfortunately, I couldn’t confirm my suspicion that residents lived inside.

  “Hello?” I called out softly. “Is there anybody out there?”

  No answer. Just that same, odd quiet.

  Fuck.

  It was a damned shame I didn’t have the time to play Nancy Drew and go door to door to unlock the mystery of the religious holy relics adorning entrances. There was a solid chance I could get pertinent information. And hell, even if I didn’t, it would have matched the surrealism of my situation.

  Me? Nancy Drew?

  Hell no.

  For a moment, I paused and lifted my face toward the darkening sky.

  The air was brisk, the sky mottled purple.

  Vampires would be out soon, if they weren’t already. The rays of the sun were only dangerous when they came direct from the source. The reflection of light was as harmless as tap water to the creatures of the night when the sun dipped below the horizon.

  I drew a deep breath into my lungs, held it in, and exhaled through my nose.

  I had to be calm. I couldn’t lose my nerve.

  I quickened the pace and pushed my busted knee harder than I knew I should, although it wasn’t easy. The sharp, burning ache had become a simmering fire that throbbed all the way to the bone. I slapped the newspaper from my right hand to my left, giving myself room to inspect my pocket.

  My butterfly knife, rosary and emplacement charm were still there.

  Thank the Lord almighty.

  At least I had something to protect myself with.

  I craned my head to the side and reminded myself I had another measure of security.

  Or did I?

  I was marked as Disco’s familiar, but was I vulnerable without him around?

  A lot can take place in a century.

  Where was he? What had happened to him in the time I had been missing?

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answers to my own questions.

  I cut down an alley, deciding on a short cut. Each step I took became more painful, the roaring agony in my knee now a blazing inferno. I was several blocks away from The Razor and I wasn’t sure I could go the distance. The sun had vanished, the faintest trails of white littering the sky as dusk lingered in those brief moments prior to the moon’s takeover. The heaviness in my gut warned me it wasn’t good to be caught outside at night, when the creepy crawlies came out to play.

  My necromancer sixth sense started shrilling. I drew in a deep, ragged breath.

  A vampire was close, damned close.

  Since Disco had opened the mark between us and fully introduced me to the source of my power, I was able to distinguish a hell of a lot more—including vampires anywhere in a twenty- to thirty-foot radius. From what I could gather—which, if I was being honest, wasn’t shit—there was only one. But one was more than enough cause for concern when you were a mere crippled mortal.

  Not now, damn it.

  I didn’t bother trying to hide as I was already at the halfway mark. A vampire would know I was in the area. Our uncanny senses honed in on each other, creating an undeniable pull. Sort of like a fly uncovering a steaming pile of shit—it was impossible to ignore.

  Yin and Yang. Sonny and Cher.

  You got me, babe.

  The vampire made her appearance at the other end of the alley. She approached slowly, taking her time.

  Her hair was short in the back and sides but full on the top, with inch-long pieces styled into a semi-Mohawk straight out of the eighties. I was pretty sure she bleached it since the strands were a blaring, platinum white. Her pale skin was bright and lovely, her full lips stained with bright, tomato-red lipstick. The black heels that clicked over the pavement made her impossibly tall—well over six feet—and she was garbed in leather. The black garment covering her lower half clutched and molded seamlessly to her hips, while the skimpy vest surrounding her torso stopped at her ribcage, displaying her smooth and lean stomach.

  “Animator bait,” she rasped in a throaty voice and stopped several feet from me. She shifted her head, looking past my shoulder, as if she expected to find someone in my accompaniment.

  “I’m not fishing, sister,” I replied and came to a stop.

  “Is that so?”

  My pride stepped up and I answered evenly, “Yep, that’s so.”

  “I smell them.” She sneered, her nostrils flaring wide. “Their stench clouds the air around you. But the question is: How did they come across you?”

  Smell them? What in the hell is she taking about?

  She crossed the distance using her vampire speed. In an instant, she stood right in front of me. Her hand lashed out and her cool fingers clamped around my throat. She shoved me into the wall, her chest pressing against mine. The bitch invaded my personal space and brushed her nose along my cheek. She drew a deep breath.

  Suddenly, her head jerked back. She turned to glare into the darkness pervading the alley. Her deep blue eyes flared. “What are they doing with you?” she whispered through clenched teeth, turning to study me. “How did they get their hands on you?”

  “Who the hell are they, pray tell?” I questioned, trying to breathe versus pant as my oxygen supply was considerably limited by the hand around my throat. “I’m just taking a walk.”

  She didn’t get the opportunity to answer.

  The rustling of multiple feet sounded on both sides of the alley. I shifted my head as best I could in her unbreakable grip, first left, then right. The dusk was gone, and it was officially nighttime. My body hummed, a slight burning as more undead approached. However, the sensation was strange as those I could see with their guns raised were not vampire, but human, and they were covered from head to toe with fun goodies like guns, knives and camouflage gear that made them resemble life-size GI Joes.

  Barbarella seemed to anticipate the company. Her lips curved into a Joker-like grin, and she relinquished her hold, stepping away from me in deliberate movements.

  The camo posse moved in, guns pointed at both of us. My gaze flickered back and forth between the vampire and the men, and I lifted my hands into the air in a mock surrender. Having a gun pointed at you by someone who actually knows how to use it isn’t funny or exciting—not at all. Even worse was being in the center of a soon-to-be shitstorm from which I might never be fully cleansed.

  “Don’t even think about it,” one of the men in green snapped as the vampire moved, as if she was preparing to flee.

  I turned my head toward the sound of the voice. His black hair was unkempt on the top and short in the back, his resolute gray eyes intense and lethal. He kept his gun leveled on the vampire but had his attention on me, his level stare traveling up and down my body, taking me in.

  “Carter,” Barbarella purred. Stepping back, she shook her head and sniffed the air. “I should have known.”

  “Kate,” he responded coolly. “Why am I not surprised to see you?”

  “Must we do this night after night?” She sighed, rolling her eyes, and placed her hands on her hips. “Really, what’s the point? We’ll have you all eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”

  My necromancy buzzer was raging full steam ahead, tingling under the surface of my skin like an itchy rash. I fought the urge to shift my fe
et and rub my arms. Movement in this circumstance wasn’t good. Besides, the men with the guns were the least of my concerns.

  Vampires were close, and they were plentiful.

  I pushed my back against the wall, ready to grab my only two defenses from my pocket. I didn’t know how long my leg would carry me, but I was positive the adrenaline currently coursing through my veins would ensure I made it out of death pit alley.

  “Get her,” Carter ordered, his expression serious and intense.

  A handful of people from each side of the alley approached, taking slow, cautious steps in my direction. They kept their guns trained on Kate, movements intentional, each stride calculated and smooth. This shit wasn’t good. One wrong move and it was game over. I cursed Zagan for sending me to a futuristic version of Hell. I also damned myself for leaving the safety of Disco’s home the morning when he’d begged me to stay.

  Hindsight was such a cruel bitch.

  Swiveling my head to the right, I peered down the opposite end of the alley. Vampires were approaching, their fangs bared.

  Suddenly, a solid and strong hand grasped my left arm.

  I yelped, hating the panic that consumed me, and jerked away from the touch. In a split second, my weight shifted and I busted my ass. The concrete wasn’t easy on my already sore posterior. I glared at the fucktard who touched me without permission. It was one of the men who arrived on the scene armed to the gills, covered from head to toe with weapons. He was in his forties at least. Salt and pepper stubble covered his chin and jaw and matched his shortly shorn hair.

  “Come with me,” he said quietly and extended his hand to me.

  “Nuh-uh.” I shook my head, scooting in the opposite direction. “I don’t think so, All American Hero.”

  His frown was genuine—he didn’t understand why I would refuse his help.

  I shoved my hand into my pocket, prepared to go for my trusty butterfly knife. My fingers wrapped around the outline of the warm metal, and I felt an insubstantial amount of comfort, which was better than none at all.

  Vampires were all around me. I could feel them.