Chapter 60
He put the wooden piece between her teeth. His brave Portia held onto it and nodded.
"I will make it quick," he promised, his heart clenching in pain. He couldn't wait for Thomas and the wire cutters. In a minute, it would be too late.
He set the knife's blade at her wrist.
"Noooooo!" Mller's scream broke through his thoughts.
He instinctively jerked his head and saw how Mller rushed through the flames that had now taken over two thirds of the room. Despite his speed, his clothes caught on fire.
"The key! Take it!" he yelled and raised his hand. Flames reflected on the metal as he threw the key.
Purely reacting on instinct, Zane caught the tiny key in his hands. As he rushed to stick it into the lock, Portia's eyes reflected back at him what was happening behind his back.
The bottom of the bed had caught fire and was now rapidly licking its path toward Portia. Mller, himself engulfed in flames, frantically pulled on the bedclothes to drag them away from his daughter.
As the lock clicked open, Zane ripped the open handcuff from her and released the chain from the steel beam. He lifted her into his arms and glanced over his shoulder.
Mller was a fireball, still moving, but no more sounds came from him. His hands still moved in all directions as if trying to put out the fire, but Zane knew it was too late for him.
He pushed the curtain aside and kicked the window with his boot, shattering the gla.s.s. The fresh air that rushed in fuelled the flames, creating a back draft that hit him instantly. Not losing a second, he jumped out of the window, Portia pressed tightly to him.
Zane landed amidst a few bushes that cus.h.i.+oned his fall. However, his injured shoulder gave out on impact, making him release his hold on Portia. Thankfully, she had her arms slung around him so firmly, she remained glued to him despite his slip.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his breath deserting him.
He felt her nod.
An explosion rocked through the night. Instinct made him scramble to his feet, rea.s.sert his hold on Portia, and jump several yards away from the house before he turned.
Flames shot from several windows on the second floor, and the roof was catching fire too. Zane could only a.s.sume that a gas line or something else highly flammable had exploded as a result of the fire in the bedroom.
The old Victorian, built entirely from wood, burned like kindling.
Portia buried her head in the crook of his neck, and he suddenly felt tears trickle onto his skin.
"I'm sorry, baby girl." Then he swallowed, because the next words he said were the hardest of his long life. "Your father loved you after all." In his own way, even if it had come almost too late.
A floodgate opened, and Portia sobbed against his chest.
"I love you, baby girl. Always."
By the time Portia's tears stopped flowing minutes later, she sensed the approach of other vampires. Her spine stiffened.
"We have to run," she urged Zane, looking up at him.
He gave her a faint smile, and only now as she pulled away from him did she notice blood gus.h.i.+ng from one side of his neck. There were slashes on his shoulder, which he held in an awkward way.
Panicked, she grabbed his arm, but he stood firm. "Friends."
With a sigh of relief, she turned toward the approaching vampires and instantly recognized one of them: Quinn. More came running from the burning house behind them. She focused her eyes. Eddie dragged an injured Thomas from the house, trying to keep him upright but when Thomas's knees suddenly buckled and his head fell forward, Eddie swiftly picked him up and carried him.
One authoritative vampire with raven-black hair bellowed orders into the night that the others followed without question. He could only be the leader of Scanguards, Samson.
"Get the injured into the vans! Amaury! Gabriel! Damage control."
She watched as two vampires approached Samson, both with long dark hair.
"Keep any humans away. Wipe their memories. We can't risk exposure."
"All because of me," she whispered to herself.
Portia felt Zane's hand on her chin, tilting it up and making her look at him.
"It's not your fault." He motioned to the burning house. "They needed to be taken down, either way. We couldn't allow what they were planning."
Before she could answer, Samson ran to them.
"You're injured," he stated matter of factly, running his eyes over Zane.
"I'm fine. But Portia needs blood. Her father was starving her."
"I'm all right," she protested. "Zane needs blood."
She sensed Zane wanting to protest again, but Samson cut him off. "You both need blood. Bottled blood will be sufficient for Portia, but Zane needs fresh blood." He looked over his shoulder and scanned the garden, before he waved. "Oliver! Over here."
Portia suddenly remembered the
Oliver ran toward them, giving her a smile as he approached. Immediately, Zane pulled her closer. She felt his possessiveness physically, and it sent a wave of heat through her body.
"Zane needs you," Samson explained. Then he reached into the bag that hung from Oliver's shoulder and pulled out a bottle with red liquid. He handed it to Portia. "Here, drink."
The moment she put the bottle to her lips and let the blood run down her throat, she realized how starved she'd truly been. Zane had been right. His blood had given her a short boost, but it hadn't lasted long. When she removed the empty bottle from her lips and looked in Zane's direction, she saw that he'd dug his fangs into Oliver's arm.
But his eyes were open, watching her, telling her with that longing gaze that what he truly wanted was to lodge his fangs in her. Not wanting to dissolve into a puddle of need, she turned toward Samson.
"Is anybody dead?" she asked quietly, worried that she was responsible for someone's death.
"None of our guys. A few are injured. But there were casualties on the other side, and we took some prisoners." He cleared his throat. "We didn't see your father..."
Portia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, pus.h.i.+ng back the threatening tears. "He burned to death."
"I'm sorry."
Her throat constricted. Was she sorry? Truly, she didn't know. She felt numb. He had saved her after all. Maybe one day she would find it in her heart to forgive him. But right now, the pain was too fresh.
An approaching siren pulled her from her trance.
"Fire engines. We've got to leave." Samson raised his voice. "Into the vans, everybody, now!"
Vampires rushed to the waiting blackout vans that were parked at the curb. With a last look at the burning house that contained her father's ashes, Portia turned and ran out to the sidewalk, flanked by Samson and Zane.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.
They spent the entire day at the safe house in Seattle, tending to their wounds, guarding the prisoners, and making arrangements for transferring them to the council, the high court of vampires that punished infractions within their society.
The house Mller had used as his headquarters had burned to the ground, despite the swift arrival of the fire engines. Any knowledge of the vampires' existence had been successfully contained, and according to Samson's local sources, the fire department suspected arson but had no leads. No bodies had been found in the debris, confirming that only vampires had perished, their bodies dissolving into ash without leaving any DNA.
Zane hadn't had any private time with Portia, the house being too crowded and people like Samson making sure that both he and Portia recovered from the ordeal, at least physically.
Thomas's injuries were healing under Eddie's and Oliver's care.
When Samson finally gave the all-okay for everybody to return to San Francisco, Zane was relieved. He needed to be alone with Portia to talk about their future and didn't want an audience for that conversation.
He squeezed Portia's hand as they walked down the gangway from the plane.
"Zane," Samson called after him.
He turned, not at all eager for a drawn-out goodbye when all he wanted was to get Portia home, into his arms and his bed.
"Yes?"
"Forgot to mention Isabelle's naming ceremony is next Sat.u.r.day. As her G.o.dfather, we expect you there after sunset."
He nodded. During that event, he would officially be recognized as her G.o.dfather, her mentor for life, and he would choose a middle name for her. "It'll be an honor."
"Oh, and another thing: I arranged for your dog to stay at Yvette's tonight. I figured you wanted to be alone."
Zane was stunned by his boss's foresight and almost choked up. s.h.i.+t, he was turning into such an emotional freak!
He glanced at Portia by his side and saw that she too was eager to be alone with him. There were still things they hadn't talked about. "Yes, we have much to discuss."
Quickening his step, he headed home, never letting go of Portia's hand.
When the entrance door fell shut behind him, his eyes searched hers. For the first time in his life, he didn't know where to start. They had barely had a chance to talk since the fire had killed her father, and except for the few words he'd said after they'd jumped from the window, he'd not mentioned her father's death. But it was an issue they had to resolve.
"I know," she whispered.
Could Portia really read him so well? "Know what?"
"That this is hard for you. I am his daughter. Nothing will ever change that. When you look at me, you must think of him, of the things he did to you and your family. I don't know how I can ever make that go away."
He silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips. "You have nothing to prove to me. I know who you are." He pressed his hand to his chest. "I feel it in here. You're nothing like him. When I look at you, I only see you. But I hurt you. The things I said to you, the way I threatened you..."
Zane closed his eyes, wis.h.i.+ng he could undo it all.
"How can you even trust me after how I treated you?"
"You were willing to give your life in exchange for mine." She sucked in a quick breath. "I would have never accepted it, of course, but to know that you were willing to do that... it showed me what's in your heart."
"I would offer it again."
"I hope you'll never have to again."
Zane dropped his lids and studied his boots for a moment. "There's something else you need to know." When he looked up, she gave him a curious look. "Without a living parent, and considering your age, you'll automatically be considered mature and legally of age. It means you can make your own decisions."
A smile pasted itself onto her lips. "What kind of decisions?"
"Any." He s.h.i.+fted his weight to the other foot, suddenly nervous.
Portia took a step closer, then another one, bringing her flush to his body. "Is there anything you want to ask me?"
Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and he suddenly heard a tremble in her voice.
"I have no right to ask you."
Her eyebrows twisted. "I don't understand."
"You're young, and I'm your first. It would be wrong of me to offer you a... a union."
Startled, Portia jerked back. "You don't love me?"
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I didn't say that. But I can't ask you to make a decision that will affect your entire life. You need time to figure out for yourself what you want. I can wait."
He'd thought about it long and hard on the flight back. If he asked her to blood-bond with him now, he would be exploiting her vulnerability. She was still grieving for her father, even if she didn't want to admit it. And she was on her own. He didn't want her to choose him simply because she had n.o.body else to turn to.
"Wait?"
"Yes, baby girl. I'll wait until you're ready, until you know for sure that you want me. Because once you say yes, I'll never let you go."
Her eyes softened. "And in the meantime?"
"You could live with me..." Zane searched her eyes for approval.
"In sin?" Portia teased, her lashes swinging upwards gracefully.
"Lots of sin, I can promise you that."
Her hand came up and stroked over his bottom lip, the touch electrifying, her gaze hungry. "Can I have a taste of that now? I wouldn't wanna buy a pig in a poke, if you know what I mean."