Zane’s Redemption (18 page)

“Assassin?” Portia echoed. “Somebody is trying to kill you?”

Zane turned his attention to her. He shouldn’t have brought her. There was no reason for her to know all this. Yet, at the same time he wanted her to know what his life was like, the dangers he faced daily, the dangers she would face if she were with him. Was it so she would run the other way, or was he trying to gather sympathy from her? What the fuck was he trying to do?

He shrugged. “There’s always somebody out there who wants to kill me. What else is new?”

“But, that’s terrible.” Her hand clamped over his forearm. Shit, she was offering sympathy. He should have known that this kind of news wouldn’t make her shy away from him.

“It’s not all,” Quinn added, undeterred. “Somebody was watching. I saw him just after the explosion.”

“Human or vampire?” Zane asked.

“Vampire, possibly Hybrid. I couldn’t tell from that distance. But he saw me, and he knew I was trying to get at the contents of the locker.”

Zane clenched his jaw. “Do you think they sent him after Brandt didn’t come back?”

“Very possible. They probably knew what he was planning and had instructions to come look for him if he didn’t come back.”

Zane was afraid that Quinn was right. “Then they know now that we’re onto them. They’re warned.”

“Who are they?” Portia interrupted.

She already knew too much. He wasn’t going to tell her anything else. “You don’t need to know.” Then he looked back at Quinn. “Anything salvageable from the locker?”

“I lifted a cell phone. It’s all mangled and melted.”

Zane twisted his lips. “If he left his cell phone in the locker, I’m guessing he rigged the locker himself.”

“Could have been the vampire I saw after the explosion.”

“We both know how these things work: you go on a mission, but you don’t want to be traced in case things don’t work out. So you stash away any items that could identify you or where you came from, and you protect them.”

“With a little bomb,” Quinn interjected.

“Right. If everything goes well, you disable the bomb and get your stuff back. If it doesn’t, you make sure your enemies get blown to bits if they find the locker.” Zane made a movement with his hands, indicating an explosion.

“I would tend to agree with you. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know now if the bomb he planted could be easily disabled by Brandt. Therefore, we can’t rule out the possibility that the vampire I saw planted the cell phone and the bomb so we’d get a false lead.”

“In either case, we need to follow this lead.”

Quinn nodded in agreement. “I’ll give the cell to Thomas. Maybe he can get some info from the chip, if he can pry if out of that mess.”

“It’s worth a try. Can you have him look at it without telling him what it’s for?” All he needed right now was Scanguards finding out what shit he was in right now. Besides, this was private. It had nothing to do with Scanguards.

“He owes me a favor. He won’t ask any questions.”

“Then do it.” Zane started the engine.

***

Even after Zane had dropped Quinn off, Portia’s head was still spinning. She realized how much of a sheltered life she’d really lived so far, because while she was certain that her father, like any vampire, probably had enemies, or had to hide from people, she’d never felt the kind of danger that Quinn had just escaped. And that Zane might still be facing.

“Somebody is trying to kill you?”

Zane gave her a sideways glance before training his eyes back on the street, driving much slower than before. “Wouldn’t be a first.”

“But why? What did you do?”

“Why does it have to be something
I
did?”

Portia let the words sink in. “Oh. Then what do they want from you?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

“Let me rephrase that: it’s none of your business.” Despite the reprimand, his voice was even.

“What happened to the assassin Quinn mentioned?”

“I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

“That’s not an answer. So, what happened to him? Did he get away?” She wouldn’t rest until she found out what was going on.

“What do you think?” he challenged.

A shiver ran down her arms, creating goose bumps under the sleeves of her sweater. Instinct answered the question for her. “You killed him.”

“Does that shock you?”

She swallowed and contemplated her next words. Was she shocked? Disgusted? Afraid? “No.”

Zane turned his gaze toward her, clearly stunned. “I killed him without a second thought. And I would do it again.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.” Hell, why wasn’t it? Why was she not afraid that if Zane could so easily kill somebody, he wouldn’t hurt her? Hadn’t she pissed him off often enough to warrant his wrath? Wasn’t that reason enough why she should be careful around him now?

When he simply grunted to himself and concentrated on traffic, she slid her palm onto his thigh. Instantly, his muscles shifted under her touch.

“Shit, Portia, stop that.”

She couldn’t. Her body was on fire, the knowledge that he was in danger making her quest to have him even more urgent. “Are you gonna hurt me if I don’t?”

She noticed how tightly he clenched his jaw together as if to ward off some invisible pain.

“You could pull over somewhere and lock the doors. Nobody will see us. The windows are tinted. Nobody would ever know what we did.”

Zane slammed on the breaks and yanked the car to the curb. His eyes glaring red, he grasped her hand and pulled it off his thigh. “You’re playing with fire, Portia. Can’t you get that into your head? I’m a killer, I’m brutal, and I can’t be controlled. You don’t want me.”

“I do,” she whispered, ignoring her thundering heart and her galloping pulse.
More than ever
, she wanted to scream, but the last remaining shred of pride she had wouldn’t let her.

“You shouldn’t, baby girl. I’m no good.”

The sad look he gave her tore her heart in two. And whenever he called her ‘baby girl’, something inside her just melted, even if he didn’t mean it as an endearment but derogatorily, as a way to put her in her place.

Instinctively, she raised her palm and reached for his face, wanting to stroke his cheek and show him that he too deserved love. But he was too quick; he pulled back and slipped the Hummer in gear.

She was crazy, but now that she knew he was in danger, she felt this inexplicable urge to protect him. It was stupid, of course. After all, he was a bodyguard and there to protect her, not the other way around. Besides, he didn’t want her help. His abrasive behavior was clear indication that he wanted to keep his distance from her.

“Can we go for a drive?”

“Why?” he retorted.

“I don’t want to go home yet. I feel cooped up there.”

“I understand.”

Surprised at his response she looked at his profile. Maybe they weren’t that different after all. They were both essentially alone. And while she didn’t have an assassin gunning for her, she had a deadline looming over her head that felt just as urgent. Five weeks to her birthday and the day her body would set into its final form, never to change again. She had choices to make: how long she wanted to keep her hair, whether she should lose a pound or two before, things that seemed trivial all of a sudden.

“What’s it like to be turned?” She’d been born into it, but for a vampire like Zane, who’d been human once, it had to have been a different experience.

The knuckles of Zane’s hands grew white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “It’s hell.”

Her heart clenched instinctively. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Ever heard of compassion?” Could he not even accept that she was sorry for the pain he’d gone through? That she wished so much to be able to soothe it?

Zane ignored her remark. “I survived. But they’ve paid for it.”

“Paid?” She held her breath, not sure whether she wanted to know or not.

He graced her with a sideways glance. “The men who turned me.”

“There was more than one?” She didn’t quite understand.

“There was a group of them. They’re dead now, all but one of them.” Then he sought her eyes, locked his gaze with hers, and continued, “I killed them, one by one, slowly and painfully.”

Portia gasped, her heart stuttering to a complete halt. She wanted to say something, but no words came over her lips. He’d killed the men who’d turned him. Men? “I don’t understand. Did several vampires turn you?”

He shook his head and looked back at traffic. They were driving through a golf course now, but Portia didn’t look out the window to enjoy the view.

“There were five of them. And they were human.”

“But—”

Zane cut her off. “I don’t want to talk about it. So, either you stop asking about it or I’ll drive you home now.”

Portia clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

A few moments later, Zane stopped the car and turned off the engine.

“There’s a great view of the Golden Gate Bridge from here.”

He opened the door and climbed out. Portia followed him and crossed the street. Beyond it was another hole of the golf course, and past that she saw the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge which stretched over its entrance. Illuminated by lights, it shone in red and orange colors.

“It’s beautiful,” she admitted, and stopped next to Zane.

“Beauty has its price. Eleven men died during construction.”

Portia sighed. “Do you always have to see the negative in everything?”

“I try not to forget that where there is beauty, misery isn’t far behind.”

“Have you always been a pessimist?”

“Only youth is optimistic because they don’t know any better,” he countered.

“And you do?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen more in my life than I ever cared to see.”

“But not everything can have been as bad as you make it out to be. You must have experienced good things: friendship, love.”

If only he would allow her closer, perhaps she could be the one who he would share those emotions with. The cool night air made her shiver, or maybe it was the tension between them that suddenly made the air between them seem to tingle.

“It’s getting late. I should get you home. You’ve got classes tomorrow.”

The moment was gone. Zane wouldn’t let her get any closer tonight, she understood that much about him. She might as well pack up and save her energy for tomorrow night.

Chapter Eighteen

It was still dark outside when Oliver showed up to relieve him. He looked tired, and Zane felt compelled to ease his mind.

“She won’t give you any trouble today.”

Oliver raised a doubting eyebrow. “Right.” Shrugging off his jacket, he stepped farther into the living room. “I swear that girl is more difficult to guard than a hardened criminal.”

Zane almost wanted to smile—almost, but of course, he didn’t. He never smiled. “I know what you mean.” Did he ever! “I talked to her about the stunt she pulled yesterday. Trust me, she won’t do it again.”

“And how do you know that? The moment you turn around, she’s gonna use mind control on me again and escape.”

“She won’t. She knows what the consequences are.”

“What did you threaten her with? Torture?”

“Something like that.” Unfortunately, if he really made good on quitting this assignment if she gave him any more trouble, it would be more torture for himself than for her.

“I tell you, it sucks that she’s part vampire, and I’m not. Puts me at a huge disadvantage.”

This wasn’t the first time Oliver had praised the advantages a vampire had over a human. Zane always wondered if the kid would one day ask Samson for permission to be turned. But did Oliver really know what he was asking for?

“Being a vampire isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.”

“In what way?” Oliver shot back.

“For starters, no more days on the beach,” Zane responded lightheartedly. For a moment, he wondered whether he really missed the sun. He’d been living in the dark for so long that he could barely remember what it would be like to enjoy the rays of the sun on his skin. Besides, the darkness suited his mood. Particularly right now.

“Like there’s ever any beach weather in San Francisco. The entire summer is fogged in, and when we do get our obligatory three days of hot beach weather, it happens on a Wednesday afternoon when everybody has to work.”

There was some truth to Oliver’s statement. “Yep, the weather is a little temperamental here. Of course, you could always call in sick.”

Oliver frowned. Nope, the kid wouldn’t neglect his duties. His loss.

“So, if that’s the only thing I’m giving up by becoming a vampire, it’s not a hard choice to make.”

Zane shook his head. “The turning is painful.”

“I’m no wuss.”

“Nobody’s saying you are.”

“For gaining immortality and all those awesome powers I don’t mind going through some pain.”

“With all those powers comes vulnerability. Besides, a long life can be very lonely.” Like Zane’s. Lonely and consumed with hatred.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” He flashed his charming grin. “Imagine, I can have all the girls I want.”

“Right.” As if that had anything to do with being a vampire.

Zane consulted his watch. “I’d better go.”

“See you tonight.”

Zane headed for his Hummer and drove to Samson’s house in Nob Hill. Since it was well before sunrise, the streets were nearly deserted. He preferred it that way.

He pulled in front of Samson’s garage and parked the car. Lights were ablaze in the Victorian mansion. He knew that even Delilah had adjusted her habits to be awake during the night and asleep during the day so she and Samson could live a near-normal life. Well, as normal as living with a vampire could ever be.

Samson opened the door himself and ushered him inside.

“You wanted to see me?”

Zane nodded.

“Let’s go to my office.”

Zane followed on Samson’s heels and practiced in his head how to start the conversation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t one for diplomacy, and there was really no easy way to talk about what he needed to say.