Zane's Redemption
Page 54
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“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.
***
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.
