The Renfield Syndrome

  The tug at my ankle brought my attention to the girl who was no older than seventeen. She wrapped her arms around my leg, as if I was some Arthurian protector come to save her from a horde of bandits. Her pitiful face broke something in me, reminding me of a time not so long ago when I’d clung to a police officer who’d lifted me from a bloody bed and helped me onto a stretcher.

  “Excellent!” Victoria rose from her chair and the room went silent. “To the victor go the spoils.” She motioned at the girl and told the vampires at her back, “Take it and clean it. You can hand the mutt over to her new owner once she’s free of vermin.”

  “No.” I didn’t move, facing off against the bitch that I was growing to hate more and more. When Victoria arched a brow, I said in a level tone, “I’ll clean her up myself.”

  An evil grin spread across her face. “So it isn’t just men you find amusing. Fine, then. Enjoy your new toy. Tomorrow I’ll expect you to take care of my poltergeist.”

  I didn’t have to turn to know the hand that wrapped around my forearm was Paine’s. The mark was fully open between us, allowing me to sense his rage, his concern and his fear for me. Without breaking the contact, I helped the girl to her feet.

  “What’s your name?” I asked softly, torn by the confusion and terror in her eyes.

  “J-Jennifer,” she stammered.

  Jennifer.

  My breath caught, and I remained standing by sheer willpower alone.

  Sometimes serendipitous things occur in our lives. Like tragic events, you never see them coming. I couldn’t save my sister, but I could save the girl who shared her name. Perhaps there was some hope in that, some sense of justice.

  I lowered my head, trying to keep myself from falling apart as the girl sobbed at my feet. Even though I felt as if something inside of me had been torn apart, shredded into pieces, and irrevocably broken.

  Chapter Eleven

  After we arrived in Paine’s abode, Jennifer clung to me like a life vessel. The poor girl had been terrified to let me out of her sight. I’d learned a lot of fucked-up shit as I’d coaxed her into the bathtub and made small talk to calm her, such as the fact that she’d been living in the kennels all of her life. I didn’t ask for details, too afraid to delve into questions about her parents, how she was raised, and how in the hell the vampires had started breeding their own personal kennels.

  Once she was clean, I tucked her into a bed in one of the extra rooms. She’d fought sleep, as if she was afraid she’d drift off only to wake up in the same terrifying nightmare. As someone who suffered nightmares of my own, I understood and stuck around until she was fully out.

  “She’s finally asleep,” I whispered to Paine as I strolled into the living room.

  The mark between us was still very much open and alive, something that was foreign and new, as Disco always kept that link between us carefully locked away unless necessary. Because of our link, I was aware that Paine was furious with me, but an underlying worry for my safety was also present. I knew the exchange went both ways, and he would be able to sense my own issues.

  Which begged the question…

  Settling across from him, I said, “I don’t carry your mark. How is it that we share one?”

  His expression didn’t change. “You carried my mark from the moment I gave you my blood after you were hurt in the warehouse. The moment my blood entered your body, the bond was established.”

  I frowned at the unexpected information.

  Yes, Paine had healed me with his blood, but I always assumed a mark was established by drinking from a vampire, not sharing by sharing blood directly via a wound or injury.

  “Disco never said anything.”

  “There wasn’t any need to. He knew I would never break his trust, and under the circumstances it was necessary.”

  “So how does that work exactly?”

  “In the same manner it worked with Gabriel. It’s not totally uncommon for those who serve a vampiric family to be marked by more than one member.”

  Running my palms across my face, I tried to come to grips with everything that had transpired in the past hour. The newfound information that Paine could access my necromancy and all that came along with it still shocked me.

  Paine slid across the distance, until we were thigh to thigh, and placed an arm around my shoulder. When I lifted my head, I saw scant inches separated us. The look in his eyes and the bond between us allowed me to feel another emotion, one that was his alone but amplified nonetheless because of our connection. It caused my stomach to contort, as it felt right yet wrong at the same time.

  “Paine—”

  Whatever else I wanted to say was vanquished when his lips brushed mine softly, the most tender and heartbreaking of kisses. I felt confused by the contact, torn as my heart rebelled even as my body warmed at the display of comfort and trust. His hand twined in my hair, fingers light against my scalp. When he pulled away, his dark eyes were simmering with a heat I knew all too well.

  “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

  He leaned in again, and I didn’t protest. My heart was too heavy, my grief still present but searching for something to dull the pain. His lips parted as his tongue ran along the crevice of my lips before it slipped past. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but a sweet one, as if we both understood how significant the moment was. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d kissed a woman, but I gathered it had been a very, very long time.

  “You taste so sweet, so incredible…” He pulled away and looked at me.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I murmured even as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Looking for an anchor to hold on to, something I could control if only for a short time.

  “Yes,” he responded in a heady groan. “We should.”

  Because of our marks, I could feel his need, the agony he’d suffered in the wait for me, his torment that my heart belonged to another while he longed for me in ways he couldn’t share or act upon. I wasn’t some normal woman; I was the only person he could be with like this—just like this—without fear or pain, revulsion or disgust.

  When his hands slipped under my legs and he lifted me, I didn’t protest.

  I had no idea how much time I had left, or if I’d even survive facing the poltergeist in the morning. Nothing had gone according to plan. If this was the one gift I could give him, I didn’t have it in me to say no. He handled me carefully, pulling me into his chest as he lowered his head and kissed me again. When he pulled away and I opened my eyes, we were already in his bedroom with the door closed. As he placed me on his bed, a surge of panic surfaced—the byproduct of my past. Only Disco had ever gotten this close to me before, able to breach the walls I’d surrounded myself with.

  “Shh,” he whispered against my lips, easily perceiving my unease. “I swore to take care of you. Let me love you.”

  The words brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of another time, another place, another person. I pulled away, and he watched me as his hands reached for the hem of my sweater. His fingers were cool against the sensitive skin along my abdomen, causing me to tremble as he brought the material up and I lifted my arms instinctively. Thankfully, the pendant slid off my neck along with the sweater, preventing him from seeing it. I wasn’t sure if he would even recognize it, or perceive the importance, but I was relived there was no need to explain what in the hell I was doing with it.

  For a moment, I thought he’d reach for my jeans. Instead, he stunned me by placing his lips against my throat, nuzzling me in a manner that indicated he was drawn to the contact instead of the eroticism of the act.

  “How long has it been for you?” I asked softly, twining my fingers in his hair.

  “One hundred and one years, give or take.”

  Pausing, I tugged gently on his hair, until he peered up at me. “What aren’t you telling me?”
r />   After kissing my chin, he breathed a line of cool air along my jaw. “It’s always been you. From the moment I touched you, tasted your blood, I knew. The only person I could ever truly touch was the only person I could never have.” Lifting his head once more, he met my confused stare. “Until now.”

  “Gabriel.” My voice broke as I said that name that existed as a chasm between us.

  “Is gone.” Paine’s own agony at the admission was evident. “He wanted this for us. The two people he loved most. He wouldn’t want you to be alone, and he was always aware of how I felt. That was why he wanted me to establish the first mark, to ensure that this would transpire in the event he passed. He always knew, Rhiannon. He was always aware.”

  “He never told me.”

  My willing compliance and increasing desire felt like a betrayal, but at the same time, what Paine said was also true. The fact that days had passed, versus the years that I had missed, didn’t matter. My life, if you could call it that, was no longer occurring in any facet that resembled normalcy.

  When he bent his head again, I forced aside the memories that threatened to put an end to what was occurring between us. His touch was gentle, his fingertips feathering over my skin. Lowering my head, I pressed my nose into his hair and inhaled, taking in his own unique scent. While different from what I knew, it was equally as tantalizing and oddly comforting. His skin rippled as I ran my fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, and his hands pulled me closer when I hesitated.

  “Don’t stop touching me…please.”

  There was so much misery in the request that I felt myself tearing up again, but for an altogether different reason. I couldn’t imagine being apart from those around me for so long, able to look but never touch.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  Leaning back, he did as I asked. His skin was as flawless as I expected, as were the muscles that lined his shoulders and chest. He closed his eyes when I placed my palm over his heart, searching for and finding the slow, steady beating just beneath.

  “I’ve dreamed about this,” he said as he took a deep, jagged breath. “So many times.”

  A question came to mind, and it was impossible not to ask. “How many women have touched you?”

  “None since you disappeared.” He moved away again, until we were face to face. “Even then, sex was only sex, and it was always one sided.” At my questioning look he clarified, “It doesn’t make me proud, but I used the women I had sex with. It was something done to scratch an itch, and only when I couldn’t bear being trapped in my own skin. They never touched me, and since I used protection and took precautions to cover my body, it made the experience bearable.”

  “So no one has ever done this?” I trailed my fingers down his chest, along the indention that created a path to his abdomen.

  Once again, his eyes closed, as if he was basking in the slight tickle of my fingers against his flesh. “No.”

  My gaze drifted to the clock on his dresser, the second hand ticking steadily away. A sharp shard of pain pervaded my chest when I envisioned how his future would be once I was no longer a part of his life, taken if I was unable to find a way to end my debt to Zagan. The impact the realization created was startling. Paine and I had days to spend with each other, perhaps nothing more than this very night.

  This time, I went to him.

  Our lips met and the kiss was no longer about grief or fear. This was about taking solace in each other, in embracing the fact that we were alive—here, now, together.

  We devoured each other as our hands wandered, wrapping and cupping, sliding along bared skin. When his fingers skimmed the buttons of my jeans, I arched my hips, assisting him even as my own hands drifted to his pants to do the same. Within moments, with the exception of my bra, we were both nude.

  My skin heated in the areas Paine’s gaze drifted. Slowly, he reached behind me and unlatched the clasps that kept my breasts from view. I slid my arms free of the thin straps, and he tossed my bra to the floor. For several seconds, we remained as we were, staring at each other. Then Paine leaned forward and brushed his nose along my right areola, over and over again.

  “You smell so good,” he said and moved to the other side, repeating the motion.

  When he finally sucked my nipple into his mouth, it was with a tentative, unpracticed motion. He was unfailingly gentle—no nipping or playful tugging. As I arched my back and pressed against his mouth, he became bolder, more certain. I groaned when he bit down lightly and skimmed his teeth across my skin without breaking it. My reaction caused him to become more aggressive, until I was pressing my fingernails into the skin on his back.

  He pulled away, looking up, unsure once more. “Is that too much?”

  “No,” I breathed the word, shaking my head.

  “I’m…” Shaking his head, he grappled for words. “As you can probably tell, I’m new to this.”

  I brushed my fingers along his temple. “We all are at some point.”

  He smiled, full on, and my heart spasmed. Paine was never one to smile, not really, regardless of the situation. I’d never seen more than a half-assed grin here and there. Never this. It was a shock to the senses, locking us together in a moment that left no room for anyone else.

  “I want this to be good for you.”

  I continued stroking his hair. “Then it will be.”

  He nuzzled my palm, so tenderly I worried my heart would break. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

  Then his lips were on me, creating a path along my ribcage, up my arm, along the arch of my shoulder and neck. His hands cupped my breasts as he brought his thumbs to my nipples. Pressing forward, I placed light kisses along his shoulders, noting each shudder from him as I did. Eventually, we moved until I was on my back across the bed. He rose over me but didn’t rush, exploring my body as if it was something new and undiscovered. I continued running my palms along his sides, his arms and his back.

  “That feels incredible,” he groaned and kissed a path to my neck.

  Keeping my touch light, I moved from his back and slid my fingers along the front of his body. Reaching down, I took his cock into my hand. He gasped, exhaling loudly, and pressed the engorged shaft into my fingers. Squeezing softly, I ran my fingers up and down his length, keeping my fingers loose. Within seconds, he stopped the motions with a firm hand around my wrist.

  “It’s too much.”

  Lifting onto my elbows, I urged him away and instructed, “Lie back.”

  When he was resting against the headboard and pillows, I started at his ankles and worked my way up, touching him as he longed to be touched, christening his skin with the untainted wisp of my fingers. I caressed muscular calves and equally toned thighs. Glancing up, I saw that he’d closed his eyes again, his face a mask of bliss. Placing myself between his outstretched legs, I scooted on my knees until I was in a perfect position to do something I knew he’d never experienced.

  This time, it was I who was forced to soothe and reassure as I took his turgid length in hand.

  “Rhiannon…”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered and lowered my head. His eyes were cloudy, his lips slightly parted as he watched me take him between my lips.

  His hips bucked when I sucked, forcing him deeper into my mouth. I closed my own eyes then, trying to block out remembrances of another man who had no place in the moment. This wasn’t about Disco or our time together. This was about giving a gift to someone, doing something for Paine while I still could. No other had the power to give this to him—only me.

  “That feels…” He gasped, fisting the sheets. “It feels…”

  I moaned, and he inhaled loudly as the vibrations created by my mouth rippled against his cock. His leg muscles became tense against my knees. Through our connection, I was able to feel his pleasure and shock. This was foreign to him, something he’d
only fantasized about, and the reality was so much better, so much sweeter, than he’d ever believed possible.

  It wasn’t necessary for him to pull away as my lips glided up and down. I felt a glimpse of panic as he felt the tension in his body, that undeniable occurrence we all experience when we near climax. I pulled away before he lost control and advanced, prowling over his body, until I was straddling his waist.

  Images of Disco flashed through my head. I didn’t have the courage to look Paine in the eye, aware he had to know what I was thinking and feeling. As though on cue, the large, grandfather clock in Paine’s living room chimed as a new hour arrived. The soft sounds were enough to break apart my doubts, a reminder that this was about sharing a moment when I could, since I might not ever have the opportunity again.

  Paine wrapped his fingers around my left wrist. “Look at me.” It was hard to do, but I managed to meet his gaze. His expression mirrored what I felt—torn but determined. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I give you my word. We’ll figure out a way around everything. Trust me.”

  I didn’t respond as I lowered my head and guided him with my free hand toward the haven of my body, feeling him slide against the heated wetness that would grant him easy entry. Words were no longer necessary—or possible—as I began the descent down his length, the broadness of his cock wider than I was accustomed to though slightly shorter, stretching me in the most delicious of ways.

  Once again, memories of Disco clouded my mind, and I felt as if a spike were driven into my chest. Never again would I have this with the man I loved beyond reason, the man who was now dead but remained as important and essential to me as breathing.

  “Don’t.” Paine squeezed my wrist, forcing me to look at him again. “I want you to see me. Be with me.”

  He didn’t have to add “Not Gabriel.” I knew it was what he meant.

  As I slid down until he was fully buried inside of me, I balanced myself with a hand on his stomach and looked into his face. There was such adoration there, so much need. His onyx eyes were unwavering, forcing me to see him and only him.