Zane's Redemption

“Gotcha!”

Zane rose with the pup in his arms. When the animal curled into him and made puppy eyes at him, all steam went out of Zane. He couldn’t punish the animal. Yet, somebody needed a talking to.

Holding onto Z, he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell, pressing the speed dial button with his thumb. When the call connected a few moments later, he pressed the phone to his ear.

“The fucking dog isn’t housebroken!”

Haven’s calm voice responded, “Ah, Zane, figured you’d call sooner or later.”

“I wanna talk to your wife!”

Haven’s voice turned quieter. “Baby, Zane’s a tad pissed off. Do you wanna talk to him or shall I handle him for you?”

“I’M NOT PISSED OFF!” He was livid.

Z gave a frightened whine. Instinctively, Zane stroked his thumb over the animal’s neck, calming it.

“Morning, Zane.”

Hearing Yvette’s voice, he repeated his accusation. “The dog isn’t housebroken!”

“Of course he’s housebroken.”

“Then why is he shitting all over the house?”

“What do you expect him to do?” Yvette protested. “Open the door and let himself out when he needs to go?”

Zane opened his mouth and shut it again instantly. Shit, he hadn’t thought of that. “Oh.”

“So, either you lock him out in the garden when you’re gone, or you’ll have to build in a doggie door.”

“I’m not keeping him!” At the words, Zane dropped his gaze to the dog who contently rubbed his snout against his shirt.

“He’s perfect for you. Besides, you can’t just return a gift. It’s not polite.”

“You call that a gift? And since when do I care about being polite?”

“He’ll grow on you,” she assured him.

“He’ll piss on me, that’s what’s gonna happen.” But he couldn’t refute Yvette’s claim entirely. The little creature had its undeniable charm. That alone was annoying as hell. He wouldn’t be felled by an animal he could easily squash with one hand if he chose to do so.

“Not if you get that doggie door. Listen, I’ll call the guy who built mine in. He does a great job and he’s fast. I’ll send him right over. See ya!”

“Hell, no—” But Yvette had already disconnected the call, not giving him a chance to protest any further.

“Guess I’m stuck with you,” he said to the dog and rubbed his neck.

Z turned his head and licked over Zane’s arm as if wanting to thank him. Clearly the dog didn’t know yet that Zane wasn’t exactly the most jovial of masters—or he had an extremely forgiving nature. He would soon wish he was back with Yvette in her cozy cottage, surrounded by all that love. In the meantime, before the dog deserted him, Zane shrugged off the odd sense that a wave of change was sweeping into his life. The jury was still out regarding who would ultimately benefit from this change.

When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, he had to hand it to Yvette. At least she kept to her word, and she’d clearly not praised the worker too much: he was fast.

Zane pressed one of the many buzzers he’d installed throughout the house so he could open the front door during the day without leaving the security of his darkened rooms. He listened for the door to open while he refilled the dog’s water bowl from the kitchen faucet.

His dirty boots were still stinking up the place. That and the excited yapping of the dog at his feet distracted him from his visitor until it was too late.

“Zacharias Eisenberg.”

Zane whirled around. It took him a millisecond to recognize several things: the intruder was a hybrid vampire of average height and build, he wasn’t here to install a doggie-door, and he knew of Zane’s past. Addressing him by his real name confirmed that, which also made one thing clear: the intruder was here to kill him.

The water bowl dropped from his hands, its contents spilling on the tile floor as Zane lunged for his would-be assassin. His claws extended and his fangs descended from their sockets, ready for the kill.

An iron fist blocked him and jerked him to the side as his shoulder took the impact of the strike. Instantly, Zane refocused, ignoring the temporary pain, and swiped his claws against his opponent’s chest, but only sliced through the outer layers of clothing and skin.

Z yapped and snarled from the sidelines.

The hybrid’s face barely registered the pain. Instead, he kicked his legs high against Zane’s thighs and hips, slamming him back against the sink. Zane pushed off the counter, using the momentum to barrel his full weight against the fractionally lighter assassin. They crashed against the glass hutch, breaking every pane of it.