Zane's Redemption
Page 52
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But not even the specially coated windows eliminated all risks a vampire took when driving a car. Getting into a traffic accident would be life threatening if it happened during the day, and any traffic stop was always a risk. At least, using mind control on some unsuspecting traffic cop would take care of being pulled over and forced to open the window, but if the windows broke during an accident, he’d be toast. Which was why the Hummer was also equipped with shatterproof and bulletproof glass. All precautions had been taken.
“Where are we going?”
Zane turned a tight corner and barreled down the narrow street trying to avoid the mirrors of the parked cars on either side of the street. “Train station.”
He concentrated on the traffic, his superior senses alerting him to other cars, giving him a chance to avoid any collisions despite the fact that he was reaching speeds of fifty miles an hour.
Avoiding busy Sixteenth Street, he took a side street and pressed down the gas pedal further. Three minutes had passed since Quinn’s call, and he was closing in on his destination. Depending on how many witnesses had seen the explosion, and how many people were injured, it would require both him and Quinn to make sure that the scene was contained, and that nobody would have any memory of Quinn.
“What happened?” Portia’s voice pushed through his thoughts.
“An explosion.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. Is anybody injured?”
“I don’t know.” If they were, at least he and Quinn could heal them with vampire blood, but if somebody had died, they’d be too late.
The train station came up on the right, and he pulled the SUV to a stop, the tires screeching. He killed the engine.
“You stay here.”
“But, I can h—”
He glared at her. “You stay here. Don’t leave the car!”
Zane jumped out and slammed the door. It would have been better if he’d been able to come on his own, but he couldn’t risk leaving Portia alone in the house. She might use the occasion to run out on him and go to whatever fucking party was happening tonight. Those students for sure had a party each night.
At least with her only a few yards away, he’d be able to catch her if she pulled a runner.
He charged into the station and scanned his surroundings, spotting Quinn instantly. A group of people stood around, talking excitedly. Some were on their cell phones, most likely alerting the authorities or their friends.
Zane rushed to Quinn’s side.
“Help me wipe their memories of me,” Quinn requested. “There are too many for me to stop them from calling the police. All we can do is make sure they’ve never seen me.”
Zane nodded. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Anybody injured?”
“No. Help me.” Quinn pointed to a few people now sitting on benches. “I already took care of those.”
Zane concentrated and let his powers flow to the group that was standing near the lockers, gawking at the damaged structure. Warm energy flowed through him as he sent his thoughts out to them, infiltrated their minds and planted his own suggestions in them, erasing any memory of how the explosion had happened and who they had seen.
Minutes passed in tense silence as he and Quinn worked side by side.
“I think we got them all,” Quinn whispered.
Zane looked at him. “Now tell me what happened.”
“Is anybody injured?” Portia’s voice came from behind him.
Zane whirled around and glared at her. “I told you to stay in the car.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I wanted to see if I could help.”
Portia craned her neck to look past him, but he simply grabbed her elbow and led her outside. He could sense Quinn behind him and cringed, hoping that his friends wouldn’t be able to connect Portia to the smell of his visitor from the day before.
“Hey, Zane, don’t you wanna introduce us?” Quinn planted himself next to Zane and smiled at Portia.
“Portia, that’s Quinn,” he grunted reluctantly.
When Quinn shook her hand and inhaled, Zane noticed his nostril flaring. A sideways glance confirmed that Quinn indeed recognized her scent as that of the woman in his bed the day before. Well, maybe all could still be saved. Quinn never needed to know who she was.
“Nice to meet you, Quinn. Are you a bodyguard like Zane?”
He nodded. “One of the best. And you?”
Portia opened her mouth to respond.
“Quinn, can we talk about the explosion?” Zane tried to steer the conversation into another direction.
“Where are we going?”
Zane turned a tight corner and barreled down the narrow street trying to avoid the mirrors of the parked cars on either side of the street. “Train station.”
He concentrated on the traffic, his superior senses alerting him to other cars, giving him a chance to avoid any collisions despite the fact that he was reaching speeds of fifty miles an hour.
Avoiding busy Sixteenth Street, he took a side street and pressed down the gas pedal further. Three minutes had passed since Quinn’s call, and he was closing in on his destination. Depending on how many witnesses had seen the explosion, and how many people were injured, it would require both him and Quinn to make sure that the scene was contained, and that nobody would have any memory of Quinn.
“What happened?” Portia’s voice pushed through his thoughts.
“An explosion.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. Is anybody injured?”
“I don’t know.” If they were, at least he and Quinn could heal them with vampire blood, but if somebody had died, they’d be too late.
The train station came up on the right, and he pulled the SUV to a stop, the tires screeching. He killed the engine.
“You stay here.”
“But, I can h—”
He glared at her. “You stay here. Don’t leave the car!”
Zane jumped out and slammed the door. It would have been better if he’d been able to come on his own, but he couldn’t risk leaving Portia alone in the house. She might use the occasion to run out on him and go to whatever fucking party was happening tonight. Those students for sure had a party each night.
At least with her only a few yards away, he’d be able to catch her if she pulled a runner.
He charged into the station and scanned his surroundings, spotting Quinn instantly. A group of people stood around, talking excitedly. Some were on their cell phones, most likely alerting the authorities or their friends.
Zane rushed to Quinn’s side.
“Help me wipe their memories of me,” Quinn requested. “There are too many for me to stop them from calling the police. All we can do is make sure they’ve never seen me.”
Zane nodded. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Anybody injured?”
“No. Help me.” Quinn pointed to a few people now sitting on benches. “I already took care of those.”
Zane concentrated and let his powers flow to the group that was standing near the lockers, gawking at the damaged structure. Warm energy flowed through him as he sent his thoughts out to them, infiltrated their minds and planted his own suggestions in them, erasing any memory of how the explosion had happened and who they had seen.
Minutes passed in tense silence as he and Quinn worked side by side.
“I think we got them all,” Quinn whispered.
Zane looked at him. “Now tell me what happened.”
“Is anybody injured?” Portia’s voice came from behind him.
Zane whirled around and glared at her. “I told you to stay in the car.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I wanted to see if I could help.”
Portia craned her neck to look past him, but he simply grabbed her elbow and led her outside. He could sense Quinn behind him and cringed, hoping that his friends wouldn’t be able to connect Portia to the smell of his visitor from the day before.
“Hey, Zane, don’t you wanna introduce us?” Quinn planted himself next to Zane and smiled at Portia.
“Portia, that’s Quinn,” he grunted reluctantly.
When Quinn shook her hand and inhaled, Zane noticed his nostril flaring. A sideways glance confirmed that Quinn indeed recognized her scent as that of the woman in his bed the day before. Well, maybe all could still be saved. Quinn never needed to know who she was.
“Nice to meet you, Quinn. Are you a bodyguard like Zane?”
He nodded. “One of the best. And you?”
Portia opened her mouth to respond.
“Quinn, can we talk about the explosion?” Zane tried to steer the conversation into another direction.