Zane's Redemption
Page 98
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“And then?” Amaury asked, his voice solemn.
“You have to protect her.”
“We?” Samson asked softly.
“She won’t want me around anymore. She hates me now.” And he could live with that as long as he knew she was safe.
Chapter Thirty-Four
There was a cold chill in the air when Zane alighted from his Hummer half a block from Portia’s house.
According to Gabriel, Oliver had been assigned to watch the house while Samson and Amaury had searched for Portia in Tahoe. After she had returned home and Oliver had reported that fact to Gabriel, Oliver’s assignment had ended, and he’d left his observation point. Considering that Scanguards’ assignment had terminated as soon as Portia was back with her father, Gabriel’s action was only logical, however, knowing what they all knew now, it would have been more prudent to keep an eye on the house.
Behind Zane, Amaury and Samson got out of the car and quietly eased the doors shut. It was past three in the morning, and the streets were quiet. Any sound they made would carry far, and the last thing Zane wanted was to alert Müller to his presence before he was in position to strike.
The house was shrouded in darkness, not a single lamp illuminating it from the inside. He didn’t know what to expect. Had Portia told her father who her lover was? She knew his real name: Zacharias Eisenberg. Had she divulged it to her father? And why wouldn’t she? She was angry with him because he’d rejected her and threatened to kill her. What could be more logical than for her to tell her father where he could find his greatest enemy? It would be the easiest way for her to take her ultimate and well-deserved revenge on him.
But what was unclear was how Müller would punish his daughter for going against his wishes. Zane feared the worst. Müller was a fanatic. Would he really tolerate his daughter having slept with a Jew, even if this brought him closer to exterminating said Jew? Would he first lash out at his daughter because she had betrayed him? There was no way of knowing for sure until he actually saw Portia.
For all he knew, Müller could be lying in wait in the dark house, ready to plunge a stake into Zane’s heart not only to end the chase that had lasted for over sixty years, but also to punish him for defiling his virgin daughter.
Zane sighed. How ironic that he’d been in Müller’s house and never realized it. But there had been no family pictures, nothing that would have given Müller’s identity away.
“You okay?” Amaury whispered next to him.
“No.”
He would probably never be all right again. Whatever he did now, it would hurt somebody. He had to get Portia out of the house, most likely against her will, because she wouldn’t want his help now, and at the same time, he had to take this chance and kill her father. She would hate him even more for that.
They approached the house from the north side, which had no windows. Only the front door was on this side. Their footsteps made no sound on the cold concrete, all three of them were well versed in stealth. Communicating only with hand and eye signals, they positioned themselves around the door.
Zane slid his key into the lock and turned. With a nod to his colleagues, he jerked the door open and lunged inside. Samson and Amaury did likewise. Within a second, they were inside the small house, each positioned against a different wall from which to attack or defend.
Zane inhaled and allowed his senses to reach out. Emptiness greeted him.
“They’re gone,” Samson said, letting out a breath.
But Zane barely heard his boss’ voice, because the scent that drifted into his nostrils had set alarm bells ringing in his head, and catapulted him toward the stairs. He crouched down and wiped his fingers over a spot on the railing.
Blood. It was dried blood.
“Portia …”
His eyes focused, and he discovered more spots of dried blood.
“Oh God, no!”
Samson’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
Zane raised his lids. “He hurt her … She bled. Samson … it’s all my fault. He hurt her because of me.”
“She must have told him who you were,” Amaury stated.
Zane closed his eyes, pushing back tears he wanted to cry for Portia’s pain. “We have to find her … before he kills her.”
“He won’t.”
Zane turned at the sound of Quinn’s voice coming from the door, fury instantly taking over his mind. His erstwhile friend was the reason this situation had gotten to this point in the first place. Had he not sold him out to Samson, Zane would have never had to take Portia away.
“You have to protect her.”
“We?” Samson asked softly.
“She won’t want me around anymore. She hates me now.” And he could live with that as long as he knew she was safe.
Chapter Thirty-Four
There was a cold chill in the air when Zane alighted from his Hummer half a block from Portia’s house.
According to Gabriel, Oliver had been assigned to watch the house while Samson and Amaury had searched for Portia in Tahoe. After she had returned home and Oliver had reported that fact to Gabriel, Oliver’s assignment had ended, and he’d left his observation point. Considering that Scanguards’ assignment had terminated as soon as Portia was back with her father, Gabriel’s action was only logical, however, knowing what they all knew now, it would have been more prudent to keep an eye on the house.
Behind Zane, Amaury and Samson got out of the car and quietly eased the doors shut. It was past three in the morning, and the streets were quiet. Any sound they made would carry far, and the last thing Zane wanted was to alert Müller to his presence before he was in position to strike.
The house was shrouded in darkness, not a single lamp illuminating it from the inside. He didn’t know what to expect. Had Portia told her father who her lover was? She knew his real name: Zacharias Eisenberg. Had she divulged it to her father? And why wouldn’t she? She was angry with him because he’d rejected her and threatened to kill her. What could be more logical than for her to tell her father where he could find his greatest enemy? It would be the easiest way for her to take her ultimate and well-deserved revenge on him.
But what was unclear was how Müller would punish his daughter for going against his wishes. Zane feared the worst. Müller was a fanatic. Would he really tolerate his daughter having slept with a Jew, even if this brought him closer to exterminating said Jew? Would he first lash out at his daughter because she had betrayed him? There was no way of knowing for sure until he actually saw Portia.
For all he knew, Müller could be lying in wait in the dark house, ready to plunge a stake into Zane’s heart not only to end the chase that had lasted for over sixty years, but also to punish him for defiling his virgin daughter.
Zane sighed. How ironic that he’d been in Müller’s house and never realized it. But there had been no family pictures, nothing that would have given Müller’s identity away.
“You okay?” Amaury whispered next to him.
“No.”
He would probably never be all right again. Whatever he did now, it would hurt somebody. He had to get Portia out of the house, most likely against her will, because she wouldn’t want his help now, and at the same time, he had to take this chance and kill her father. She would hate him even more for that.
They approached the house from the north side, which had no windows. Only the front door was on this side. Their footsteps made no sound on the cold concrete, all three of them were well versed in stealth. Communicating only with hand and eye signals, they positioned themselves around the door.
Zane slid his key into the lock and turned. With a nod to his colleagues, he jerked the door open and lunged inside. Samson and Amaury did likewise. Within a second, they were inside the small house, each positioned against a different wall from which to attack or defend.
Zane inhaled and allowed his senses to reach out. Emptiness greeted him.
“They’re gone,” Samson said, letting out a breath.
But Zane barely heard his boss’ voice, because the scent that drifted into his nostrils had set alarm bells ringing in his head, and catapulted him toward the stairs. He crouched down and wiped his fingers over a spot on the railing.
Blood. It was dried blood.
“Portia …”
His eyes focused, and he discovered more spots of dried blood.
“Oh God, no!”
Samson’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
Zane raised his lids. “He hurt her … She bled. Samson … it’s all my fault. He hurt her because of me.”
“She must have told him who you were,” Amaury stated.
Zane closed his eyes, pushing back tears he wanted to cry for Portia’s pain. “We have to find her … before he kills her.”
“He won’t.”
Zane turned at the sound of Quinn’s voice coming from the door, fury instantly taking over his mind. His erstwhile friend was the reason this situation had gotten to this point in the first place. Had he not sold him out to Samson, Zane would have never had to take Portia away.
