The Renfield Syndrome Excerpt#2

Yes, I'm writing. It's coming along pretty well thus far. For those of you who want a taste while you wait, here is another excerpt from The Renfield Syndrome (unedited, of course) and contains mild spoilers (so be warned!). You can read the first excerpt I shared a couple of weeks ago by clicking HERE.

Goose was the ace in the hole, which meant I had to find some way to get back to the burbs. Swallowing thickly, I eyed the werewolves that looked like they wanted to rip out my throat and say to fuck with it. The scent of water hit and the surface beneath the van told me we were crossing the bridge. As soon as I was under lock down, I’d never get out in time. Zagan had said I had thirteen-days, and that was three days ago. The clock was ticking.

“Shit.”

At first, I thought it was one of my inner ramblings. Then I realized it was from the driver -- a very loud, alarmed, and snarling werewolf.

“We’ve got trouble, Carter.”

The van’s breaks made a horrible screeching sound as they ground together and we shifted inside, bodies veering to the right before wavering to the left.

Carter moved, until he could peer past the headrest of the passenger seat. His grip increased, a steady thrumming growl vibrating against my back.

“What the fuck are they doing out so early?” One of the men to our right asked.

“Shift,” Carter commanded and moved to the back doors. I watched in horror as they ripped off their shirts and their bones contorted, limbs changing as bones cracked and reformed. The muscles along their spine rippled, pressing against the skin with a disturbing popping sound as the vertebrae grew larger and reformed.

Carter didn’t hesitate as he jumped from the back and walked around, facing a line of expensive cars and limousines. They were all newly waved and polished; the rims glistening as streetlamps came on, causing the paint to gleam. Several people stood in front of the vehicles, their stylized clothing as sophisticated and luxurious as their mode of transportation.

Even without my necromancy, their luminous skin and sparkling eyes would have given them away. Vampires stood between us and the path home, efficiently blocking us in. Strangely enough, and for the first time I could recollect, I found myself relieved to see them. I suppose it takes being placed in a shitty fucking circumstance to appreciate what you once took for granted.

A form strode purposely from the center, leather coat snug around his broad shoulders yet loose at his waist, the collar high at his neck. The shirt beneath matched, black as ebony, the buttons open at the throat. Spiffy black slacks clung to his hips, the shiny belt buckle in the center flashing with each long stride.

His hair fell to his shoulders, the lush brown waves untamed and free, framing a face that was breathtaking, even in its fury. Obsidian eyes met mine and didn’t look away as he approached, his fists clenched and jaw ticking.

My heart raced, blood pounding in my ears.

He had always been beautiful, like an avenging angel sent to keep a watchful eye on things. And now, seeing him here, I said thanks to God, Satan, or whatever power it was that enabled him to find me.

“You have something that belongs to me,” Paine said in a soft menacing tone, stopping a mere yard or so away. “I want her back.”