The knuckles of Zane’s hands grew white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “It’s hell.”
Her heart clenched instinctively. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Ever heard of compassion?” Could he not even accept that she was sorry for the pain he’d gone through? That she wished so much to be able to soothe it?
Zane ignored her remark. “I survived. But they’ve paid for it.”
“Paid?” She held her breath, not sure whether she wanted to know or not.
He graced her with a sideways glance. “The men who turned me.”
“There was more than one?” She didn’t quite understand.
“There was a group of them. They’re dead now, all but one of them.” Then he sought her eyes, locked his gaze with hers, and continued, “I killed them, one by one, slowly and painfully.”
Portia gasped, her heart stuttering to a complete halt. She wanted to say something, but no words came over her lips. He’d killed the men who’d turned him. Men? “I don’t understand. Did several vampires turn you?”
He shook his head and looked back at traffic. They were driving through a golf course now, but Portia didn’t look out the window to enjoy the view.
“There were five of them. And they were human.”
“But—”
Zane cut her off. “I don’t want to talk about it. So, either you stop asking about it or I’ll drive you home now.”
Portia clamped her mouth shut and nodded.
A few moments later, Zane stopped the car and turned off the engine.
“There’s a great view of the Golden Gate Bridge from here.”
He opened the door and climbed out. Portia followed him and crossed the street. Beyond it was another hole of the golf course, and past that she saw the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge which stretched over its entrance. Illuminated by lights, it shone in red and orange colors.
“It’s beautiful,” she admitted, and stopped next to Zane.
“Beauty has its price. Eleven men died during construction.”
Portia sighed. “Do you always have to see the negative in everything?”
“I try not to forget that where there is beauty, misery isn’t far behind.”
“Have you always been a pessimist?”
“Only youth is optimistic because they don’t know any better,” he countered.
“And you do?”
He nodded. “I’ve seen more in my life than I ever cared to see.”
“But not everything can have been as bad as you make it out to be. You must have experienced good things: friendship, love.”
If only he would allow her closer, perhaps she could be the one who he would share those emotions with. The cool night air made her shiver, or maybe it was the tension between them that suddenly made the air between them seem to tingle.
“It’s getting late. I should get you home. You’ve got classes tomorrow.”
The moment was gone. Zane wouldn’t let her get any closer tonight, she understood that much about him. She might as well pack up and save her energy for tomorrow night.
Chapter Eighteen
It was still dark outside when Oliver showed up to relieve him. He looked tired, and Zane felt compelled to ease his mind.
“She won’t give you any trouble today.”
Oliver raised a doubting eyebrow. “Right.” Shrugging off his jacket, he stepped farther into the living room. “I swear that girl is more difficult to guard than a hardened criminal.”
Zane almost wanted to smile—almost, but of course, he didn’t. He never smiled. “I know what you mean.” Did he ever! “I talked to her about the stunt she pulled yesterday. Trust me, she won’t do it again.”
“And how do you know that? The moment you turn around, she’s gonna use mind control on me again and escape.”
“She won’t. She knows what the consequences are.”
“What did you threaten her with? Torture?”
“Something like that.” Unfortunately, if he really made good on quitting this assignment if she gave him any more trouble, it would be more torture for himself than for her.
“I tell you, it sucks that she’s part vampire, and I’m not. Puts me at a huge disadvantage.”
This wasn’t the first time Oliver had praised the advantages a vampire had over a human. Zane always wondered if the kid would one day ask Samson for permission to be turned. But did Oliver really know what he was asking for?