Zane’s Redemption

by Tina Folsom

  He was glad when Oliver showed up shortly before sunrise to relieve him.

  “Can you come an hour and a half before sunrise tomorrow?” Zane asked the human.

  “What for?”

  “I have to see Samson about something.”

  “Sure. Not a problem.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” He slapped Oliver on the shoulder and stalked out into the dark.

  On the way home, Zane fed off a street person he found sleeping in a doorway and almost gagged on the man’s blood. After having tasted that tiny drop of Portia’s blood, everything else now tasted like battery acid. Shit, he’d really screwed himself, hadn’t he? While he’d never much cared where his next meal came from as long as it was dripping from a pulsing vein, his taste had just become more refined.

  He’d been a McDonalds kind of guy; now he’d suddenly acquired a taste for 3-star Michelin food. Perfect!

  When he got home, Quinn took his mind off the disturbing thought.

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  Zane raised a tired eyebrow and slumped down on the couch. Z jumped onto his lap and curled up. “Has he eaten?”

  Quinn nodded. “I fed him after our walk.”

  Zane looked down at the dog. “Thanks. So, what am I not going to believe?”

  “The pin you found on the assassin: I’ve found the symbol.”

  A bolt of excitement charged through him. Finally, something he could concentrate his energy on. “What does it mean?”

  “Get this: it’s a group of vampires and hybrids who have banded together to create a superior race.”

  Zane’s ears rang from the news. “A new race?”

  “Not new, superior. They are selecting vampires and hybrids for a breeding program to give birth to stronger, superior hybrids.”

  Zane shuddered. It sounded too much like something he knew. “As the Nazis did in their attempts to create their Arian super race: select tall, blond men and women with above average intelligence, physical strength and beauty and have them produce babies.”

  Quinn nodded. “Only this time, it’s not blond and blue eyed individuals they want, it’s mostly hybrids. They’ll take vampires too, but only extraordinary ones: stronger than others, more lethal, more intelligent, more skilled. They want to breed these traits into the next generation of hybrids.”

  “How did you find out?”

  Quinn shrugged. “A disgruntled vampire who was rejected by their program responded to one of my contacts.”

  “Disgruntled? Not exactly the most reliable source of information. People like that are known to exaggerate.”

  “He seemed genuine.”

  Zane frowned despite the fact that Quinn had an uncanny ability to figure people out. “Doesn’t sound right to me. If I were to try something like that, I wouldn’t exactly broadcast to every possible recruit what this is all about. Only once somebody is accepted into the program, would I give the recruits more information, and even then only what they needed to know.”

  Quinn looked as if contemplating his words. “My informant strikes me as the kind of guy who does his own digging around if you know what I mean.”

  A vampire who stuck his nose into things that didn’t concern him? Well, at least Zane could find out what he knew. Didn’t mean he had to believe it.

  “Does he know who runs the program?”

  “He didn’t know. Only those who are accepted get to eventually meet the top brass.”

  At least that sounded right. “What else did he know?”

  “The location of their headquarters is secret. Only the few at the top know. Everything is kept secret: the number of recruits, the number of new hybrid babies produced.”

  “Does he know anything at all? What is the goal of this group? There has to be a reason why they’re doing this.”

  “I think we can guess from the symbol they have chosen: it’s indeed a Swastika, a broken one, as indicated by the line running between the two pieces. One thing the rejected vampire was able to find out was that the symbol changes over time. Every few years, a new pin is issued, and each time the line grows fainter and the two pieces of the Swastika move closer together.”

  Zane cursed. A symbol like that could only mean one thing. “They’re trying to resurrect the Third Reich.”

  “Maybe not exactly, but they’re taking ideas from it to create stronger, more indestructible hybrids. And because they aren’t full blooded vampires, they can be out in daylight. They can blend in with the human population and propagate in their midst, unchecked, unhindered. Imagine how powerful that will make them. And the rest of us, the full-blooded vampires, are hamstrung by being able to counteract them only at night. If this superior breed has any designs on world domination ...” Quinn didn’t have to finish his sentence.

  “The ultimate master race with the skills and advantages of both the human and the vampire species, but without any of their weaknesses,” Zane breathed. And there was no doubt in his mind that his biggest enemy was behind it. “Franz Müller, he’s their leader.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Zane gave a bitter laugh. “The scheme is evil.” He tossed his friend a glare, and continued, “If anybody is capable of pulling something like this off, it’s Müller. His background fits; he’s got the medical knowledge to understand what traits would work well in a breeding program, and he’s got all the connections. He and his colleagues could have started this right after the end of the war. Once they figured out that they could breed with humans and create hybrid children, they had all the tools they needed.”

  “You make him out to be some sort of Über-villain. He’s nothing of the sort. Aren’t you taking this personal vendetta a little too far? He’s only a vampire who’s eluded you so far.”

  Zane shook his head. “Don’t underestimate Müller. You underestimate him, you die. He’s evil to the bone. And his ambition only fuels the evil in him. If he’s got something in his mind, he’ll do it. It was his research and cunning that led the program at Buchenwald. He was the one who figured out how to create vampires after one of the guards stumbled on a vampire feeding on the prisoners. He was the one who saw an opportunity there. And he took it.”

  Quinn put his hand on Zane’s forearm. “But a master race? Don’t you think that even for Müller that’s too much to chew on?”

  “He has a God complex. He is a psychopath.”

  Quinn sighed. “What are you gonna do?”

  “There’s only one thing I can do: find him and take him down. Knowing how he operates, he trusts no one. He’ll be the only one with all the information about how the program is set up and how it works. If he falls, the program will dissolve into nothing.”

  “That is if he’s the head.”

  “He has to be.” Müller had always hated authority, and even back in Buchenwald, resented his superiors. As a civilian, there was no chance in hell that he would take orders; Müller would be nobody’s underling. He would be the leader.

  “How are we going to find him?”

  “Let’s continue with Brandt’s son. He’ll lead us to him. Anything on the key?”

  Quinn shook his head. “Guess what, there are no lockers at the airport. Homeland Security crap I suppose. I’ll check out the Greyhound and train stations tonight.”

  “Do that. He couldn’t have gotten here without anything on him. He has to have stashed his stuff somewhere.”

  And hopefully Brandt would lead them right to the organization. Even though Brandt had claimed not to know where Müller was, it didn’t mean much. If only the top brass in the organization knew where headquarters was located, and therefore where Müller could be found, then it could only mean that Brandt wasn’t part of the top brass. Simple as that.

  Zane slammed his fist into this palm. He was itching to find Müller, now more than ever. If he was really head of this neo-Nazi breeding program—and Zane was convinced he was—then he needed to be taken out as quickly as possible. Vampires and hybrids
were already superior to humans in strength and speed. Allowing Müller to create a race, which was even more superior—combined with his motivation to dominate as many people as possible— would put all of humanity at risk.

  Zane couldn’t allow that to happen. This evil had to be annihilated.

  ***

  “You can’t just show up at his house,” Lauren whispered as she turned off the faucet in the ladies restroom at the University. “He won’t let you in.”

  Portia combed her fingers through her hair. “I’m not going to just show up and wait for him to open the door. I’m going to break in.”

  Lauren shook her head. “You do know that everybody is going to blame your behavior on my bad influence, don’t you?”

  “Nothing will happen to you. By the time anybody finds out, the deed will be done.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Portia nodded. “You weren’t there, but I’m telling you, Zane was all over me. If his colleagues hadn’t shown up, we would have had sex last night. Unfortunately, by the time he came back, I was asleep, even though I tried to stay up and wait for him.”

  Lauren applied lipstick to her lips. “Why not wait until tonight?”

  She couldn’t wait. Throughout her morning classes, she hadn’t been able to concentrate, and had relived Zane’s kiss and touch a hundred times. She was burning up. If she had to wait another hour, all the fire trucks in this city wouldn’t be able to douse the flames.

  “I can’t.” The need to have him, to feel his body joined with hers was growing too fast and too strong.

  “How are you planning on getting rid of Oliver?” Lauren motioned her head to the door, on the other side of which Oliver was waiting for them.

  “Don’t worry. He’s only a human. I’ll be gone so fast, he won’t know what hit him.”

  “Careful. Nobody else can get a hint of your vampire speed, or we’re both in deep shit.”

  “You worry too much.” Portia smiled to herself.

  Ever since she’d met Zane, she’d become more confident in herself. She was willing to take risks for what she wanted, because what she wanted was worth it. Zane’s hands on her were worth it. And once they’d had sex, maybe he would want more. Because she wanted more. She wanted to get to know him, to explore what was under his mask of indifference and violence. To see what he was hiding from the world; to discover what he was protecting so fiercely.

  Yes, she admitted it, if not to Lauren or anybody else, to herself: she should probably run as far as she could from Zane, but she knew she couldn’t. The force that drew her to him was too strong, like a current she couldn’t swim against any longer. It was better to give up the struggle and allow herself to drift to him and land in his arms.

  “Are you ready?” Lauren’s eyes pursued her in the mirror.

  “Yep. You have the address?”

  Lauren pulled a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to her. “It’s in the Mission.”

  Portia looked at the address Lauren had scribbled down. “I’ll find it.”

  A shiver of anticipation skidded down her back as she opened the restroom door and walked into the hallway.

  “I was about to check on you,” Oliver remarked.

  “You really don’t have to treat me like a baby. I’m perfectly fine being in the restroom by myself.” Portia darted looks up and down the hallway. There were too many students around for her to simply launch into vampire speed and run. She would have to do something a little more devious.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zane dropped the weights and exhaled. He was bathed in sweat from his vigorous workout. He’d tried to sleep after his conversation with Quinn, but his mind wouldn’t shut off, making it impossible for him to rest. Quinn was sleeping soundly now.

  As he walked upstairs, he didn’t bother being quiet. This was his house, and if anybody didn’t like it, they could leave. Besides, Quinn was used to him being up half the day. They’d shared a place in New York for a while, and Quinn had learned to ignore Zane roaming around the apartment most of the day.

  Fuck, he was in a pissy mood. The suspicion that Müller was leading a group that was breeding a new master race gnawed on him. He blamed himself. If he hadn’t failed at finding the bastard and killing him, this wouldn’t even have happened. He’d had more than sixty years to chase Müller down, only to be evaded at every turn.

  Zane headed for his shower and stripped. When the warm water ran down his naked skin, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the tiles. It was time to admit that the reason he was really pissed was Portia. He desired her against all reason. But to take what she offered would violate so many rules, Samson would throw the book at him.

  And even if he wasn’t violating Scanguards’ code of ethics by touching her, he had his own scruples to deal with.

  Zane looked down at himself. Figured that his cock was hard and ready the moment his thoughts had turned to Portia. But he wouldn’t let this get any further. With a painful flick of his fingernail against the tip of his erection, he deflated the horny appendage. After soaping his body and rinsing it, he turned off the water and stepped onto the soft mat in front of the shower.

  The dog’s bark made him listen up for a moment. The animal roamed around the house and the garden all day long, barking at anything from a passing truck to a bee sitting on a flower.

  He shook his head and continued drying off. At least somebody in this house was having some fun. He dressed in his robe and pulled the sash tight when he heard one of the stairs creak. Was Quinn up?

  Barefoot, Zane stole out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, snatching a stake from his dresser drawer on the way. If another assassin was trying to get him, he’d be prepared this time. His fingers reached the light switch, and he flipped it, cloaking the room in darkness. Let the assassin think he was asleep.

  No more sounds came from the hallway. Had he imagined the sound? Maybe the old house was simply making noises by itself? Zane strained his ears as he waited, his body pressed against the wall next to the door, poised to strike.

  He held his breath, not wanting to give his position away, when the doorknob turned slowly. The hinges moaned as the door eased open. The shadow moved, and Zane pounced, slinging his arm over the intruder’s head and around his neck, yanking him against his chest, his other hand holding the stake.

  Finally taking a deep breath, he inhaled a fragrance he was all too familiar with. He hadn’t smelled it earlier because he’d held his breath.

  Zane reached for the light switch and flipped it, bathing the room in light.

  “Shit! Portia,” he breathed, releasing her from his neck hold.

  She turned, her eyes instantly running over his barely clothed body. Instinctively, he tested the sash, making sure it hadn’t loosened.

  “Hi.”

  He slapped his hand over her mouth, horrified that her greeting might have woken Quinn.

  Zane dipped his head to her ear. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  She mumbled against his hand, but he didn’t release her.

  “I’m not alone in the house. So, unless you want me to be fired as your bodyguard, keep your voice down,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

  She nodded, and he dropped his hand. Portia instantly moved her head to his face. Shit, she smelled so good, he didn’t know how long he could refrain from touching her.

  “I wanted to see you.” Her voice was low and seductive.

  Had she always sounded like that, or was he just getting more desperate the longer he denied himself the thrill of taking her and making her his?

  “You broke into my house.”

  She shrugged. Then her hand connected with his chest, and her fingers played with the lapels of his robe. Before she could slip her hand onto his naked skin, he grasped it and imprisoned it in his palm.

  “Stop that.”

  No, do it, he wanted to howl.

  Her other hand came up too fast for him to react
and pushed the robe apart so her fingers connected with his hairless chest. Her touch burned like the fires of hell, so tempting, so tantalizing, yet so forbidden. Maybe only for a second he could allow himself to soak in her essence, to allow her enthralling scent to permeate his body.

  “I want you,” she murmured and pressed her lips against his skin.

  Her lips moved, sliding along his heated body, moving upwards to his neck. He tilted his head, unable to resist the pleasure she was offering. Excitement coursed through him when she pulled his skin between her lips and suckled.

  His hands grabbed her backside and hauled her against his thick erection.

  “Bite me,” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

  Portia’s head jerked up, her eyes looking at him, stunned.

  “Yes,” he said, louder now, “that’s what it would be like. We’d be like animals, wild, no holds barred. That’s what being with me would be like.” He released her and stepped back. “Admit it: you’re not ready for that. All you want is some nice tame lovemaking. I can’t give you that.”

  “That’s not true. I want … more.”

  He shook his head. “Go home, baby girl.” Then something hit him. “Where’s Oliver?”

  “I escaped him.”

  “How?”

  “Mind control.”

  “You devious little …” Yet he couldn’t really blame her. Like her, he’d do anything if he wanted something bad enough.

  “I didn’t hurt him.”

  “He has to pick you up and take you home.” He turned to reach for his cell phone on the dresser, but Portia’s hand clamped over his wrist.

  “No!”

  “You don’t get to choose.”

  “You’re a big bully!”

  Zane shrugged. What else was new?

  “Zane?” Quinn’s voice was accompanied by a knock on his door.

  Shit! He shot Portia a scolding look.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Zane motioned to Portia and then the bed. She understood and hopped in, putting the covers over her up to the neck, turning her head away from the door.