Zane's Redemption
Page 100
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“Listen, I know this must sound odd to you guys, but when I heard of the breeding program I figured it would give me purpose in life. You see, I’ve been drifting. No family, no friends, no clan.”
“Why is that?” Zane shot back, suspicion rising. A loner always meant trouble.
“It’s because I don’t know who I am. I woke up one night, and I just ‘was’. I have no idea when I was turned, by whom, or how. Nor do I remember my human life. Nothing. I’ve been searching for an answer, and when I heard about the program, I thought it was as good as anything I’d ever be part of.”
Zane nodded. He understood the need to find a family, to have friends, to not be alone anymore. “The breeding program, did you believe in it when you applied for it?”
Cain shrugged. “They promised the most enticing women would be at the disposal of any vampire or hybrid who made it into the program. It’s not something somebody like me can afford to turn down. I don’t understand why they didn’t want me. Hey, I’m strong, I’m smart. And I’m told I’m not too bad looking. Beats me what they were looking for that I don’t have.”
“I think it’s your lack of commitment that made you ineligible,” Zane mused. “Müller only wants men who believe in his cause. He’s a fanatic. He likes to surround himself with other fanatics. You wanted in for the wrong reasons.”
“I guess. Well, never mind. Seeing that they’re going down anyway, it's just as well that I’m not a part of it.” Then he made a motion toward the door. “Well, good luck, guys. Seeing that you have no use for me, I’ll be moving on.”
Before Cain could exit through the door, Zane blocked it. “Not so fast. I’m sure you can understand that we can’t let you leave and risk you alerting Müller.”
Zane glanced at Samson who nodded in agreement.
“That’s why,” Samson chimed in, “we’d rather have you on our team. Fight on our side, and if you prove yourself, maybe we’ll have a place for you in our midst.”
Zane noticed Cain’s eyes widen in surprise. Then a smile spread on his lips. “You won’t regret it.”
“Now tell us everything you know, every detail,” Samson ordered. Then he turned toward Amaury. “Organize the jet, get everybody up to speed. We’ll be leaving before sunrise.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Portia tried to move her arm to relieve the ache in her shoulder but realized she couldn’t move. Her eyes flew open. Panicked, she stared into the semidarkness. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out her surroundings.
She lay on a large bed in an average sized bedroom with two windows, which were darkened by both heavy curtains and thick blinds. There was an old fireplace with a gas fire burning in it. A dresser sat at the wall near the foot of the bed, and there were three doors. One, she assumed led to a closet, one most likely to the hallway, and the third one, which was ajar, seemed to lead into another room.
Portia craned her neck to get a better look and managed to get a glimpse of the room, which appeared to be a study. But her movements were severely restricted. She jerked her arms, but they were tied around a heavy bar.
Twisting her neck once more, she looked at her restraints. Shit! Her father had handcuffed her with silver handcuffs. However, he had protected her wrists from the effect of the silver by wrapping bandages around them so the silver wouldn’t burn her skin. And what she’d thought was a bar, was actually a steel beam that appeared to have been used to retrofit the old house for earthquake safety.
Portia cursed. She couldn’t get out of the restraints. Even though the silver didn’t hurt her at present, she couldn’t break it, not even with her superior hybrid strength.
Frustrated, she let her head fall back onto the pillow and listened for any sound. On the floor beneath her, mumbled voices indicated the presence of others in the house. She was in a house, for sure, an old one, maybe Edwardian or Victorian, evidenced by the crown molding she saw between wall and ceiling. But where she was, she had no idea.
She’d been out cold after her father had beaten her senseless, and she’d welcomed the escape into darkness where she’d felt nothing. Now that she was awake, the memory of her father’s beating and Zane’s rejection came back full force, even though her physical injuries had healed.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t gotten to eat the pizza Zane had ordered for her. A sob escaped her at the thought of him, and she swallowed it down quickly, not wanting to fall apart once more. She needed to be strong now. She had to help herself; nobody else would come to rescue her.
“Why is that?” Zane shot back, suspicion rising. A loner always meant trouble.
“It’s because I don’t know who I am. I woke up one night, and I just ‘was’. I have no idea when I was turned, by whom, or how. Nor do I remember my human life. Nothing. I’ve been searching for an answer, and when I heard about the program, I thought it was as good as anything I’d ever be part of.”
Zane nodded. He understood the need to find a family, to have friends, to not be alone anymore. “The breeding program, did you believe in it when you applied for it?”
Cain shrugged. “They promised the most enticing women would be at the disposal of any vampire or hybrid who made it into the program. It’s not something somebody like me can afford to turn down. I don’t understand why they didn’t want me. Hey, I’m strong, I’m smart. And I’m told I’m not too bad looking. Beats me what they were looking for that I don’t have.”
“I think it’s your lack of commitment that made you ineligible,” Zane mused. “Müller only wants men who believe in his cause. He’s a fanatic. He likes to surround himself with other fanatics. You wanted in for the wrong reasons.”
“I guess. Well, never mind. Seeing that they’re going down anyway, it's just as well that I’m not a part of it.” Then he made a motion toward the door. “Well, good luck, guys. Seeing that you have no use for me, I’ll be moving on.”
Before Cain could exit through the door, Zane blocked it. “Not so fast. I’m sure you can understand that we can’t let you leave and risk you alerting Müller.”
Zane glanced at Samson who nodded in agreement.
“That’s why,” Samson chimed in, “we’d rather have you on our team. Fight on our side, and if you prove yourself, maybe we’ll have a place for you in our midst.”
Zane noticed Cain’s eyes widen in surprise. Then a smile spread on his lips. “You won’t regret it.”
“Now tell us everything you know, every detail,” Samson ordered. Then he turned toward Amaury. “Organize the jet, get everybody up to speed. We’ll be leaving before sunrise.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Portia tried to move her arm to relieve the ache in her shoulder but realized she couldn’t move. Her eyes flew open. Panicked, she stared into the semidarkness. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out her surroundings.
She lay on a large bed in an average sized bedroom with two windows, which were darkened by both heavy curtains and thick blinds. There was an old fireplace with a gas fire burning in it. A dresser sat at the wall near the foot of the bed, and there were three doors. One, she assumed led to a closet, one most likely to the hallway, and the third one, which was ajar, seemed to lead into another room.
Portia craned her neck to get a better look and managed to get a glimpse of the room, which appeared to be a study. But her movements were severely restricted. She jerked her arms, but they were tied around a heavy bar.
Twisting her neck once more, she looked at her restraints. Shit! Her father had handcuffed her with silver handcuffs. However, he had protected her wrists from the effect of the silver by wrapping bandages around them so the silver wouldn’t burn her skin. And what she’d thought was a bar, was actually a steel beam that appeared to have been used to retrofit the old house for earthquake safety.
Portia cursed. She couldn’t get out of the restraints. Even though the silver didn’t hurt her at present, she couldn’t break it, not even with her superior hybrid strength.
Frustrated, she let her head fall back onto the pillow and listened for any sound. On the floor beneath her, mumbled voices indicated the presence of others in the house. She was in a house, for sure, an old one, maybe Edwardian or Victorian, evidenced by the crown molding she saw between wall and ceiling. But where she was, she had no idea.
She’d been out cold after her father had beaten her senseless, and she’d welcomed the escape into darkness where she’d felt nothing. Now that she was awake, the memory of her father’s beating and Zane’s rejection came back full force, even though her physical injuries had healed.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t gotten to eat the pizza Zane had ordered for her. A sob escaped her at the thought of him, and she swallowed it down quickly, not wanting to fall apart once more. She needed to be strong now. She had to help herself; nobody else would come to rescue her.
