Zane's Tale Read Free

the vampires
landed, amidst several elegantly potted plants.
    “ Nice digs. Serim bastards
always have money, don’t they.” Zane pulled a cigarette out of his
pocket and lit up, scanning the building. “So what’s the plan
here?”
    Barnabas nodded at the window, peering
through the mini-blinds. At his side, Caleb grinned, enjoying the
anticipation of the kill. “I see someone laying down in there,”
Barnabas said, then turned to Zane. “Go to the next window over and
see if there’s someone in the other room. This could be easier than
we thought.”
    It was on the tip of his tongue to tell
Barnabas to fuck off. But he couldn’t muster enough of a give a
damn to do so. It didn’t matter anyhow – this wasn’t his party. So
he shrugged, took a long drag on his cigarette, and then tossed it
to the brick, watching it roll off the balcony and onto the streets
far, far below. Then, he leapt atop the railing and extended his
wings, using them to catch an updraft as he jumped to the next
balcony over.
    The next room over was lit, a radio
blasting. Boxes littered the otherwise swanky apartment, and one
box on the couch appeared to be half-packed, clothing strewn on the
leather sofa. The room had a masculine decor to it, spare and
barren. A man’s apartment – a rich man’s. No surprise given that
they were here to off a Serim.
    A woman wandered into the room…and Zane
staggered.
    His succubus.
    Jackie was beautiful – every time he
looked at her, he was struck anew at how perfect she was. Of
course, it was the curse that transformed her into being so very
perfect, but he liked to think that she was a mixture of everything
he personally loved in a woman. Her long red curls were pulled into
a messy ponytail and she wore no makeup. Her skin glowed with good
health, a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow, and a few tendrils
of damp hair sticking to her forehead. Her eyes were a pale, sated
silver. The clothes she wore were messy – an old, paint-splattered
t-shirt and yoga pants. She looked amazingly beautiful despite her
sloppy clothing. And as she moved through the room, she gave an
off-beat little dance to the music, swinging her hips and tossing
clothes into the box as she moved.
    Hunger swept through him,
echoed by a fierce, longing need. She was his . She belonged to him…she
was…
    She was in Noah’s apartment.
    Her eyes were pale because
her Itch had been fixed by her Serim lover. Not him. Not the one that should be with
her. Hate gnawed at his insides, burned in his core. Zane’s hands
clenched. The Serim bastard had won her simply because Zane had to
step off the playing field.
    For now.
    Fighting the overwhelming urge to break
through the window and carry her away into the night, Zane pressed
a hand to the glass. He needed to hear her voice. Just a small bit
to carry him forward into the endless years of servitude that
loomed ahead. Years – without her.
    She tossed clothes into a box,
haphazardly folding them as she bounced around to the music. His
fingertips brushed against the thick glass reflexively when her
ponytail bounced – he longed to touch her hair, to bury his face in
the curling, slightly sweaty mass of it.
    A phone rang and as he watched, she
crossed the room, slapped off the radio, and picked up the phone,
cradling it between her ear and shoulder. “Hello?” As she spoke,
she grabbed another shirt and began to fold it. “Oh, hey Remy.
What’s up?”
    The sound of her voice made his entire
body strain with need. He could feel his fangs pressing downward,
an instinctive reaction to the woman on the other side of the
glass. Her voice – soft and casual – only fueled the flames of his
desire. God, he missed her. He’d thought that seeing her again
might help quench the ache he carried in his heart for her. He was
wrong; this was hell. And seeing her here, happy as she packed
clothes in Noah Gideon’s penthouse…it stirred all kinds of emotions
– anger, jealousy, longing, love,