Zane’s Redemption (31 page)

Her legs felt heavy when she walked up to her front door. Luckily her habit of keeping her house key in her jacket pocket rather than her handbag assured that she didn’t have to break a window to get in. She turned the key and entered the dark interior. It was just like she’d left it.

Portia didn’t bother switching on the light and walked toward the stairs. Her hand reached for the railing, her fingers brushing against the smooth wood as she put her foot on the first step. A large hand yanked her back.

The unexpected action robbed her of her breath, and the vice-like grip assured that she couldn’t get away. Even before her head snapped toward her attacker, she knew she was in trouble.

Her father was angrier than she’d ever seen him before.

“Where have you been?” The fury in his voice lashed at her like a whip. The red glare in his eyes only underscored the seriousness of the situation she found herself in.

She didn’t want a confrontation with him, not now when she was down already. “I’m tired.”

Portia turned her face away, trying to avoid his scrutinizing look, but she knew she couldn’t hide from him. Zane’s smell was still all over her, and his blood coursed through her veins, only intensifying his scent.

When her father’s nostrils flared, she shivered instinctively. But she couldn’t have been prepared for his next action.

“You whore!”

The back of his hand struck her cheek with such force that she lost her balance and crashed into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. The shock of his words and his brutal treatment hurt more than the blow itself. She didn’t recognize her father anymore. This was not the man who’d raised her: this was the man Zane had described, the monster of Buchenwald, Franz Müller.

“You’re destroying everything!” he accused her, his voice filling the house, making the glass chandelier in the living room vibrate. “You slut! You let yourself be defiled by somebody who’s not worthy!”

Portia scrambled to her feet, trembling. She saw the raw brutality in his eyes, and the madness that lurked just behind them. Yes, this was Franz Müller—and he was her father. The mere thought of it made her nauseous.

“Father, please …”

Another strike of his hand catapulted her against the railing and knocked the wind out of her.

“I have higher plans for you, and what do you do? You behave like a common slut! You are the beginning of a new master race! You’ll be its princess, its leader. You and your mate will rule this world.” He gave a disgusted look. “If he’ll still have you now that you let another man touch you!”

Portia didn’t bother getting up the second time. Understanding made her slide to the floor. Still, she couldn’t believe her own ears. “Mate?”

“I searched long and hard for the most valiant hybrid for our cause, the strongest, the fiercest. Your children will be stronger than anybody in this world.”

“No …” she whispered breathlessly. This couldn’t be. But there was no doubt. Her father wanted to create a master race, a superior race that would rule the world. “No, you can’t …”

He glared down at her. “I own you! You’ll do as you’re told!”

Self-preservation made her struggle to her feet. He didn’t own her. “Nobody owns me!” She would decide who to mate with, and it wouldn’t be a man of her father’s choosing.

Like a vice, her father’s hand clamped around her upper arm, his claws digging into her flesh. An involuntary gasp escaped her. He would stop at nothing. Cold fear gripped her and slithered down her spine.

“Now you listen to me, young lady. From now on, you’ll do exactly as I say. In three days, you’ll be blood-bonded to your mate, and you’ll do it willingly.”

“Or what?” she spat. She’d rather die than do as he said. She had nothing more to lose. Zane had cast her out, and now her father turned out to be a monster. She had nobody.

“Or I’ll hunt down your lover and kill him, very, very slowly. I promise you, he’ll suffer greater pain than this world has ever seen.”

Shock stopped her heart, only to make it restart at double the pace. “No!”

“Oh, watch me!”

If she’d ever had any doubts of who her father was, they were all wiped away now. “I didn’t want to believe him,” she murmured to herself.

Her father jerked her by her arm. “Believe what?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

Portia lifted her head slowly and calmly. “That you’re Franz Müller.”

She saw the final confirmation of the truth by the way he jumped back and how his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It only lasted for a second, before he had himself under control again. He growled and flashed his fangs at her.

“Who told you?” He shook her.

But she didn’t open her mouth to speak.

“WHO?” he yelled not inches from her face.

Portia pressed her teeth together, unwilling to give in.

Then his face changed as if something crossed his mind. He gritted his teeth. “There’s only one man outside the organization who knows who I am. Only one who’d use this information against me.” He snarled. “Eisenberg.”

She recognized Zane’s last name, but tried to keep her face emotionless.

But her father knew her too well. As sure as she was his daughter, he could always interpret the little tells her face showed.

He raked his eyes over her body in disgust. “You let Eisenberg fuck you? That dirty, filthy Jew?”

There was no need to deny it now.

Portia lifted her chin in defiance. “And I loved every minute of it.” As the revulsion in her father’s face spread, she continued, “I drank his blood, and I gave him mine. And I l—”

But she didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Her father’s fists flew into her. She brought her arms up to shield herself, but it was to no avail. Blows to the head were followed by kicks into the stomach, as claws dug into her chest and ripped her clothes to dig into her skin. The scent of her own blood filled the air.

Her strength, already depleted from the events earlier in the night, left her. The next blow hit her temple. Blackness fell over her, and she stopped fighting against it, welcoming the darkness like a cocoon. In the darkness she would be safe.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Zane paced in his cell. After landing in San Francisco, they’d brought him to Scanguards’ downtown office and locked him up, waiting for Samson and Amaury to get back from Tahoe. At least, they had taken the silver handcuffs off him, but neither Eddie nor Haven had bothered offering him blood to heal his wrists. Not that he would have taken it anyway. He didn’t want any stupid bottled blood.

He kicked his boot against the concrete wall. Then he dropped his forehead against it, feeling the cold smooth surface against his skin.

Fuck, he’d screwed up. What if something had happened after Portia had run off? What if somebody had attacked her, or what if she was injured and couldn’t help herself? Logic told him that he shouldn’t worry: she was a hybrid and near indestructible, and she could fight off any human with her little finger. But logic didn’t rule his mind right now. Emotions did. And they were running high.

He turned and kicked the single chair they’d left for his comfort, then picked it up and slammed it against the wall. The metal bent. Figured that they wouldn’t leave a wooden chair in the cell. It would make creating a stake far too easy.

“Does that make you feel any better?” Gabriel’s voice droned from the door.

Zane swiveled on his heels and faced his unexpected guest. “No, but it doesn’t make me feel any worse either.”

Gabriel’s hulky form filled the door frame. “Wanna talk before the others get here? They’re just crossing the Bay Bridge.”

His heartbeat kicked up. “Did they find her?” He held his breath, hoping for the right answer.

“No.”

Deflated, he dropped his head. Ah, shit, they might as well kill him now.

“Do you care about her?”

“None of your fucking business!” What did Gabriel want? An outpouring of Zane’s heart? Not gonna happen!

“Well, then I guess you don’t want to know where she is.” Gabriel turned to leave.

Zane stepped forward. “You said they haven’t found her.”

Without looking back, Gabriel baited him further. “That’s right,
Amaury
and
Samson
haven’t found her. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know where she is.”

Zane jumped toward Gabriel, slammed his hand onto his boss’ shoulder and whirled him around. “Then where the fuck is she?”

A half smile played around Gabriel’s lips, and Zane had the urge to wipe it off him.

“So you do care.”

Zane released his grip and withdrew further back into his cell. “What do you care?”

“I care because I am torn between ripping you a new one and helping you. And right now, with your shitty attitude, I tend toward ripping you a new one. Can you get that into your thick skull?”

To underscore his statement, Gabriel made a fist and rapped his knuckles on Zane’s bald head.

Insulted, Zane snarled at him. “Don’t pretend you want to help me. You’re not any better than the rest of them!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said!”

“Goddamn it! Talk if you want me to tell you where she is!”

Zane huffed. “Nobody believed her! Not Samson, none of you. She was telling the truth, damn it! Her father, that sick bastard, was trying to keep her a virgin beyond her twenty-first birthday. Hell, she was asking me to help her. I did. If that makes me a criminal in your eyes, so be it.”

“Eddie and Haven already confirmed that she was a virgin.”

Impatiently, Zane wiped a trickle of perspiration off his brow. “Then what do you want from me?”

“I want to know what happened in Tahoe.”

“We fucked. She left. End of story.” The rest was nobody’s business, not that he loved her and not that she was Müller’s daughter. He’d take on Franz Müller on his own as soon as he got out of this hellhole.

“Stubborn asshole!” Gabriel cursed. “If you don’t talk, I can’t help you.”

Zane crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Be that way. But I’m warning you, Samson won’t show you any leniency.” He stormed to the door. “And for you, jerk, I stood up to Lewis not two hours ago. A waste of time and energy that was! I should have tossed you at his feet and let him rip you apart!”

He slammed the door shut before Zane could answer.

“He’s back? Her father is back?” He hammered his fists against the door, but Gabriel didn’t come back.

Müller was in San Francisco? And Gabriel had seen him? And Zane was locked up, unable to get to him. He cursed three ways to heaven. He’d never been so close to him, not in over six decades. All that separated him from this monster now was this damn door.

Then panic struck him. Gabriel knew where Portia was, even though he hadn’t said so. This could only mean that she was back. Back at home—with her father.

What would Müller do to her? There was no doubt that he would be able to smell that she’d been with a man. Zane’s scent on her, his blood inside her, was still too fresh. In a few days it would have been gone, but Müller had come back too early. He would know instantly, and while he wouldn’t know who’d touched his daughter, he would be furious. Knowing his vile temper, anything could happen.

Why hadn’t he considered this earlier? He’d been so blinded by the fact that Portia was his greatest enemy’s daughter that he’d overlooked the obvious: Müller hadn’t wanted her to lose her virginity, and now that he had to assume—and rightly so—that she had, he would be furious. Without a proper outlet, without Müller being able to lash out at the man who’d robbed his daughter of her virginity, he had only one person to direct his anger at: Portia.

“Let me out of here!” he screamed at the closed door and pounded his fists against it. “Gabriel! Get back here! Get me out! NOW!”

He screamed at the top of his lungs. Seconds passed, minutes followed. He was at the border of being hoarse when there was finally a sound at the other side. When the door opened, he burst through it, but both Samson and Amaury pushed him back inside the cell.

“Let me go! I have to get to her!”

“Lock us in, Gabriel,” Samson shouted over his shoulder as both he and Amaury used their combined strength to keep him from the door.

When a moment later the door fell shut and the lock clicked, he pulled back. “You have to let me go. She’s in danger. I have to help her,” Zane breathed.

“That’s not how it works, Zane,” Samson responded calmly. “Do you really think we’ll let you walk out of here after all you’ve done?”

“You have to! Portia needs me.” Desperation clawed at him. He had to convince Samson to let him go.

Amaury tilted his head. “Yeah, like a hole in the head. You have some screwed-up notion of what that means.”

“Samson, there’s no time to lose. She’s in danger. Her father—”

Samson jabbed his finger at Zane’s chest. “Her father has every right to be mad at us. You can consider yourself lucky that we’re not hanging you out to dry. He hired us for one specific reason, and one reason only, and we didn’t do our job. No! What did we do? We screwed him over! We did exactly what he wanted to avoid.”

“It was wrong!” Zane yelled.

“You bet it was wrong. What you did was wrong!”

“I had no fucking choice! You wouldn’t listen to me. I told you what was at stake. And you ignored it!”

Samson blew out a breath. “I didn’t ignore it. I was considering your accusations. I was going to investigate.”

“Too late!” Zane planted his hands at his hips and widened his stance.

“Thanks to you!”

“You have to let me go. Her father, he’ll hurt her.”

Samson shook his head. “He’ll ground her, he’ll yell at her, that’s all. She’ll survive.”

Zane grabbed Samson’s forearm. “You don’t understand. I can't let her take his wrath when I’m the one who deserves it.”

“First true words out of your mouth,” Amaury added.

Zane tossed him a glare. “None of you understands. He’ll hurt her. I know him. I know what he’s capable of.”

“What are you talking about?” Samson asked. “How would you know Lewis? He’s been gone the entire time you were Portia’s bodyguard.”