Zane's Redemption
Page 59
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“It’s all a lie, Thomas. There’s no way she’s still a virgin. No father would allow that to happen to his hybrid daughter. She’s using the story to manipulate him so she gets what she wants. And Zane is stupid enough to fall for it.”
“You have to pull him off the assignment.”
“I should have never put him on it in the first place. It was a huge mistake. He can’t be allowed to ever touch her again.”
“I hope it’s not too late,” Thomas mused.
Samson shook his head. He hadn’t smelled anything suspicious on Zane and was pretty sure he hadn’t touched Portia last night. But he couldn’t risk having Zane near her any longer. It would violate the trust their client had placed in Scanguards: to keep his daughter safe. Exposing her to a vampire who would go against her father’s strict instructions would break that trust and jeopardize Scanguards’ integrity.
“I need you to take over from Oliver at sunset.” At least with Thomas he knew there would be no problems: he was not susceptible to a woman’s charms, no matter how enticing she might be. It was one advantage of having a gay vampire on staff.
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks.” He pressed the disconnect button.
“And now?” Delilah asked.
“Zane is in for a dressing down.” A major dressing down.
Chapter Nineteen
Zane reared up from his bed, for a brief moment wondering what had awakened him, when he heard the sound once more: his cell phone was vibrating. He snatched it from the bedside table and looked at caller ID.
Shit, it was never good to get a call from one’s boss at this time of day.
“Samson, what—?”
“I’m taking you off your assignment. As of immediately!” Samson’s voice sounded decidedly pissed off.
An instant curse escaped him before he could clamp his mouth shut. “Fuck!”
“Yeah, you fucked up big time. I want to see you in my office a half hour after sunset!”
“What the fuck did I do?”
“Oh, you know very well what you did. You touch that girl once more, and I’ll have your head for it. Are we clear?”
Shit, fuck, crap!
Quinn!
That bastard had told Samson that Portia had been at his place, in his bed even. And Zane had pretended that night that he’d had a woman there for sex. Quinn, that fucking traitor, had promptly run to Samson and ratted on him.
“In my office a half hour after sunset!” Samson repeated and disconnected the call.
Zane slammed his fist into the mattress, his mood as dark as it had ever been. He bolted from the bed, ready to beat his friend to a pulp. Friend? He had no friend!
How could Quinn go behind his back like that? Without even a warning!
Black hate chased disappointment as he considered Quinn’s action and what it meant. Two things came to mind instantly: Portia would remain a virgin her entire life, and Zane would never see her again.
Both options hurt equally. Hurt him, the man who thought he could feel no more pain because he’d felt it all before. But it was as strong as ever: white hot pain as if somebody were driving a hot iron through his beating heart. Yes, it was beating, harder than before, but not because he needed his heart to pump blood through his veins, but because he felt compassion for another person: Portia.
Despite the things that were written in her file, in his heart he knew that she had told him the truth. She might have tried to manipulate him in other ways, but he couldn’t deny what was in her eyes.
And he’d be damned if he’d desert her now and leave her in the care of people who didn’t believe her.
He rocked to a halt in front of Quinn’s bedroom and retreated. It wouldn’t do him any good to satisfy his need for revenge right now. Quinn would get the beating he deserved soon enough. For now, Zane needed to take care of more important things.
As quietly as his anger allowed him to move, he went into his bedroom suite and got dressed. A quick look at his watch confirmed that it was still at least two hours to sunset. It didn’t matter. He had to act now and get a head start before anybody caught onto what he was planning.
Zane snuck down the stairs, carefully avoiding those that creaked. In the hallway, he turned toward the door that led into the garage.
A soft whine made him spin around. Z looked at him, eyes big, his tail wagging excitedly.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.
Apparently the animal didn’t understand and jumped up his leg, hugging his calf.
Zane crouched down. “No, you can’t come.”
“You have to pull him off the assignment.”
“I should have never put him on it in the first place. It was a huge mistake. He can’t be allowed to ever touch her again.”
“I hope it’s not too late,” Thomas mused.
Samson shook his head. He hadn’t smelled anything suspicious on Zane and was pretty sure he hadn’t touched Portia last night. But he couldn’t risk having Zane near her any longer. It would violate the trust their client had placed in Scanguards: to keep his daughter safe. Exposing her to a vampire who would go against her father’s strict instructions would break that trust and jeopardize Scanguards’ integrity.
“I need you to take over from Oliver at sunset.” At least with Thomas he knew there would be no problems: he was not susceptible to a woman’s charms, no matter how enticing she might be. It was one advantage of having a gay vampire on staff.
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks.” He pressed the disconnect button.
“And now?” Delilah asked.
“Zane is in for a dressing down.” A major dressing down.
Chapter Nineteen
Zane reared up from his bed, for a brief moment wondering what had awakened him, when he heard the sound once more: his cell phone was vibrating. He snatched it from the bedside table and looked at caller ID.
Shit, it was never good to get a call from one’s boss at this time of day.
“Samson, what—?”
“I’m taking you off your assignment. As of immediately!” Samson’s voice sounded decidedly pissed off.
An instant curse escaped him before he could clamp his mouth shut. “Fuck!”
“Yeah, you fucked up big time. I want to see you in my office a half hour after sunset!”
“What the fuck did I do?”
“Oh, you know very well what you did. You touch that girl once more, and I’ll have your head for it. Are we clear?”
Shit, fuck, crap!
Quinn!
That bastard had told Samson that Portia had been at his place, in his bed even. And Zane had pretended that night that he’d had a woman there for sex. Quinn, that fucking traitor, had promptly run to Samson and ratted on him.
“In my office a half hour after sunset!” Samson repeated and disconnected the call.
Zane slammed his fist into the mattress, his mood as dark as it had ever been. He bolted from the bed, ready to beat his friend to a pulp. Friend? He had no friend!
How could Quinn go behind his back like that? Without even a warning!
Black hate chased disappointment as he considered Quinn’s action and what it meant. Two things came to mind instantly: Portia would remain a virgin her entire life, and Zane would never see her again.
Both options hurt equally. Hurt him, the man who thought he could feel no more pain because he’d felt it all before. But it was as strong as ever: white hot pain as if somebody were driving a hot iron through his beating heart. Yes, it was beating, harder than before, but not because he needed his heart to pump blood through his veins, but because he felt compassion for another person: Portia.
Despite the things that were written in her file, in his heart he knew that she had told him the truth. She might have tried to manipulate him in other ways, but he couldn’t deny what was in her eyes.
And he’d be damned if he’d desert her now and leave her in the care of people who didn’t believe her.
He rocked to a halt in front of Quinn’s bedroom and retreated. It wouldn’t do him any good to satisfy his need for revenge right now. Quinn would get the beating he deserved soon enough. For now, Zane needed to take care of more important things.
As quietly as his anger allowed him to move, he went into his bedroom suite and got dressed. A quick look at his watch confirmed that it was still at least two hours to sunset. It didn’t matter. He had to act now and get a head start before anybody caught onto what he was planning.
Zane snuck down the stairs, carefully avoiding those that creaked. In the hallway, he turned toward the door that led into the garage.
A soft whine made him spin around. Z looked at him, eyes big, his tail wagging excitedly.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.
Apparently the animal didn’t understand and jumped up his leg, hugging his calf.
Zane crouched down. “No, you can’t come.”
