Zane's Redemption
Page 92

 Tina Folsom

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Stupid dog!” he shouted and yanked the bra from his paws, fully intent on tossing the item into the fire, where a few embers still smoldered. But the strength to do so left him when Portia’s scent drifted into his nose and drugged him.
Unable to gather enough strength to keep himself upright, he fell to his knees and caught his head in his palms, feeling as devastated as he had the night he’d ended Rachel’s life. How many more losses could he survive before everything was finally too much for him, before he walked into the sun and ended it all?
***
His breakdown had cost him a precious hour, one, it turned out he didn’t have to spare. But what was done was done.
When Zane heard the SUV come up the driveway, its lights already illuminating one side of the cabin, he knew his gig was up. They’d found him.
As soon as the car stopped, its engine still running, Samson jumped out of the car, followed by Eddie, Amaury, and Haven. Haven’s presence could only mean that Samson had put his crew together in a hurry, taking whoever was available at short notice, because Haven, Yvette’s mate, didn’t even work for Scanguards. However, that didn’t make him a lesser foe.
The four vampires rushed up the stairs. Zane stood there, calmly waiting for them, knowing that a fight would be fruitless. Four vampires against one were odds he didn’t like.
“How did you find me?” he asked evenly, meeting Samson’s glare.
Eddie replied, Samson clearly too angry to have a civil word. “Thomas traced a utility bill you paid online. It was for this place. You could have invited us for some skiing, but no, you kept this cabin all to yourself.”
Zane shrugged, wanting to maintain his outward calm, even if he felt nothing of the sort on the inside. His gut had just been torn out and fed to the wolves. All that was left was an empty shell.
“Where is she? What have you done with her?” Samson yelled only inches from his face.
“She’s gone.”
Samson jolted back, an expression of utter shock on his face. “You hurt her? You fucking asshole, you hurt her?”
His heart rebelled. “Never!” Even if he’d made her believe that he would, he’d rather catapult himself into a wooden stake than willingly harm a hair on Portia’s head. Yeah, that’s how screwed up he was.
“Then where are you keeping her?”
Next to Samson, Amaury and Haven stormed into the cabin, calling out her name.
“I told you she’s gone.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Samson growled low and dark, his fangs peeking from between his lips, his eyes glaring red in the dark.
“The house is empty,” came Amaury’s voice from the inside.
Samson grabbed Zane by the elbow and shoved him inside. From his favorite place at the fireplace, Z barked angrily.
Haven came from the bedroom, carrying Portia’s backpack. He pulled a pair of panties from it. “Doesn’t look like your size, Zane,” he snarled.
“She left two hours ago.”
Samson narrowed his eyes, scanning the open plan kitchen. His eyes fell onto the spot where Zane had left Portia’s wallet. “Without her stuff? How stupid do you think we are?”
Samson motioned to Haven to bring him the bag. He took a whiff of the smell that clung to it, then took a step closer to Zane, inhaling once more.
“You had her, didn’t you? You fucking jerk couldn’t keep your hands off her, could you?”
Why ask him something Samson already knew? “She begged me to do it.”
“And her blood? I can smell her blood on you! You had to take everything, didn’t you?”
He shrugged, the motion hurting because he tried to pretend so hard that he didn’t care. “She offered. Never turn down a gift horse.” God, he hated himself for the way he spoke about her, as if it had meant nothing, when it had meant everything to him.
Samson’s fist whipped Zane’s head sideways, the pain instantly radiating down his spine. Fuck, his boss was still as fast as ever, and he packed a vicious punch.
“There’s blood on the sheets,” Eddie’s voice suddenly announced.
Everybody turned to where he stood in the door to the bedroom.
Samson rushed past Zane and headed for it. Zane followed, not because he particularly wanted to but because he hated it when others violated his space. He didn’t want them touching anything else, and especially not the place where he and Portia had lain together in complete and utter bliss.
As Samson stopped in front of the bed, its sheets tangled from the last time Zane and Portia had made love, the rest of the vampires crowded into the space.