Zane's Redemption
Page 2
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His fangs lengthened in mid-flight, and his fingers transformed into sharp claws capable of ripping an elephant to shreds. Zane pried the rapist off his victim with one swoop, his claws digging into the guy’s shoulders, cleaving clear through his hoodie sweater.
The man’s scream was first surprise, then pain as Zane’s claws slashed deeper into his flesh. He relished the sound and dragged one hand, claws extended, through the entire width of his shoulder, tearing the flesh apart, rupturing muscle and nerve tissue. Blood spurted from the open wound, and the air became pregnant with its metallic scent. He flashed his fangs, making sure the asshole got a good look at them.
“Nooooo!” The desperate protest of his victim did nothing to stop Zane’s assault. Deliberately slowly, he allowed his other hand to tear through the muscles of the left shoulder, doing equal damage there. His arms dangling limp from his shoulders, the severed sinew and nerves not supporting their movement any longer, the rapist was defenseless.
At his mercy.
If Zane had had a heart, he would have ended it right there, but it was too late. One look at the frightened girl who gaped at him in horror, and his past took hold of him. Suddenly, the strawberry blond rape victim’s features with the terrified blue eyes became a face he knew so well, a face he’d not seen in decades, yet never forgotten.
Her dark brown hair curled at its ends and caressed her pale shoulders as it framed her young face. Her chocolate brown eyes looked up at him, innocence lost, begging him to help her, to save her. “Zacharias …” As her voice faded, he reached for her, but she shrunk back, petrified.
“Rachel,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid.”
Zane became aware of the man struggling against him and tore his gaze from her. He would kill the man who was hurting her, hurting his little Rachel.
Zane tossed the rapist against a wall a few yards away, hearing the cracking of his ribs with utter satisfaction. When he crossed the distance to his victim, his steps were deliberate. He allowed his body to harden and enjoyed the horrified look in the man’s eyes. But he didn’t see the face of the rapist anymore. It had changed. He saw a dark blond man with brown eyes. And finally those eyes shone with fear and the knowledge that his time had finally run out. He was caught and would pay for his crimes tonight.
Without another thought, Zane slammed his claws into the man’s chest and sliced it open with the infallible precision of a man who’d performed this task before. Ignoring the bloodcurdling screams, he plunged his hands inside and jerked the ribs apart. Blood spurted onto him, liberally gushing from the open chest. He inhaled the scent, the smell of life and death equally strong. Despite the fact that he’d only just fed, hunger surged, but it was a different kind of hunger this time, not for food, but for revenge. Sweeter than hunger, it begged to be satisfied by the only means possible.
Zane jammed his hand through the chest wall and reached for the beating heart. His palm clamped around it, the life-sustaining organ pulsing into his fist, its spasms still strong and fighting against the inevitable. “You’ll never hurt anybody again.”
As he tore the heart from its body, the man’s eyes went blank. Zane stared at the still-beating heart in his hand as the warm blood dripped from the torn veins and arteries and ran down his hand and wrist. A river of it tunneled under the sleeve of his black shirt, soaking it, pasting it against his skin. His heartbeat slowed to near normal.
It was done.
“Rachel, he’s dead. You’re safe now.”
Zane pivoted, but Rachel was gone. In her stead, a strawberry blond, young woman cowered against the dumpster, whimpering and shaking like a leaf. Tears had dissolved her black mascara and left long dark streaks along her cheeks. Her lips quivered.
Zane blinked. Rachel wasn’t safe. Rachel was gone, and he couldn’t bring her back. But this girl here was alive, and her attacker was dead.
He took a step toward her to impart the good news, but she scrambled back and away from him. “Noooo!” she echoed breathlessly, her eyes frantically searching for an escape route as if she thought Zane was coming after her next.
“I won’t hurt you.” He stretched his bloody hands toward her, but his gesture only made her shriek in panic.
Zane knew what she saw. His jeans and shirt were soaked in blood. The sticky, warm liquid had even penetrated his boots. But that wasn’t the worst. The girl he’d rescued saw his vampire side, the deadly claws, the sharp fangs that pushed past his lips, and the glowing red eyes that made him look like the devil. His bald head only accentuated the air of danger that always accompanied him even when he was in his human form. Even without his fangs extended, people feared him—as they should.
The man’s scream was first surprise, then pain as Zane’s claws slashed deeper into his flesh. He relished the sound and dragged one hand, claws extended, through the entire width of his shoulder, tearing the flesh apart, rupturing muscle and nerve tissue. Blood spurted from the open wound, and the air became pregnant with its metallic scent. He flashed his fangs, making sure the asshole got a good look at them.
“Nooooo!” The desperate protest of his victim did nothing to stop Zane’s assault. Deliberately slowly, he allowed his other hand to tear through the muscles of the left shoulder, doing equal damage there. His arms dangling limp from his shoulders, the severed sinew and nerves not supporting their movement any longer, the rapist was defenseless.
At his mercy.
If Zane had had a heart, he would have ended it right there, but it was too late. One look at the frightened girl who gaped at him in horror, and his past took hold of him. Suddenly, the strawberry blond rape victim’s features with the terrified blue eyes became a face he knew so well, a face he’d not seen in decades, yet never forgotten.
Her dark brown hair curled at its ends and caressed her pale shoulders as it framed her young face. Her chocolate brown eyes looked up at him, innocence lost, begging him to help her, to save her. “Zacharias …” As her voice faded, he reached for her, but she shrunk back, petrified.
“Rachel,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid.”
Zane became aware of the man struggling against him and tore his gaze from her. He would kill the man who was hurting her, hurting his little Rachel.
Zane tossed the rapist against a wall a few yards away, hearing the cracking of his ribs with utter satisfaction. When he crossed the distance to his victim, his steps were deliberate. He allowed his body to harden and enjoyed the horrified look in the man’s eyes. But he didn’t see the face of the rapist anymore. It had changed. He saw a dark blond man with brown eyes. And finally those eyes shone with fear and the knowledge that his time had finally run out. He was caught and would pay for his crimes tonight.
Without another thought, Zane slammed his claws into the man’s chest and sliced it open with the infallible precision of a man who’d performed this task before. Ignoring the bloodcurdling screams, he plunged his hands inside and jerked the ribs apart. Blood spurted onto him, liberally gushing from the open chest. He inhaled the scent, the smell of life and death equally strong. Despite the fact that he’d only just fed, hunger surged, but it was a different kind of hunger this time, not for food, but for revenge. Sweeter than hunger, it begged to be satisfied by the only means possible.
Zane jammed his hand through the chest wall and reached for the beating heart. His palm clamped around it, the life-sustaining organ pulsing into his fist, its spasms still strong and fighting against the inevitable. “You’ll never hurt anybody again.”
As he tore the heart from its body, the man’s eyes went blank. Zane stared at the still-beating heart in his hand as the warm blood dripped from the torn veins and arteries and ran down his hand and wrist. A river of it tunneled under the sleeve of his black shirt, soaking it, pasting it against his skin. His heartbeat slowed to near normal.
It was done.
“Rachel, he’s dead. You’re safe now.”
Zane pivoted, but Rachel was gone. In her stead, a strawberry blond, young woman cowered against the dumpster, whimpering and shaking like a leaf. Tears had dissolved her black mascara and left long dark streaks along her cheeks. Her lips quivered.
Zane blinked. Rachel wasn’t safe. Rachel was gone, and he couldn’t bring her back. But this girl here was alive, and her attacker was dead.
He took a step toward her to impart the good news, but she scrambled back and away from him. “Noooo!” she echoed breathlessly, her eyes frantically searching for an escape route as if she thought Zane was coming after her next.
“I won’t hurt you.” He stretched his bloody hands toward her, but his gesture only made her shriek in panic.
Zane knew what she saw. His jeans and shirt were soaked in blood. The sticky, warm liquid had even penetrated his boots. But that wasn’t the worst. The girl he’d rescued saw his vampire side, the deadly claws, the sharp fangs that pushed past his lips, and the glowing red eyes that made him look like the devil. His bald head only accentuated the air of danger that always accompanied him even when he was in his human form. Even without his fangs extended, people feared him—as they should.
