He should never have bitten her lip and tasted her blood. That one drop had been enough to make his vampire side yearn for something he didn’t dare claim: a woman of his own. It wasn’t right. How could he expect to love and be loved when he lived only for hate and revenge?

He wasn’t done with revenge yet. Justice still required one more kill, one more name to be added to the list of those who were responsible for so much misery, so much death, and for robbing him of the life he never got to live. He couldn’t give up now; he was too close.

If he took Portia and gave into her, she would see deep into him, and she would hate him, because he’d feared for a while now that he’d become as bad as the men he’d been chasing. If she saw it, it would be confirmation. He couldn’t allow it. Nobody should see what lurked inside him, because he couldn’t face it himself.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

The door bell rang more urgently, reminding Zane why he’d rushed out of the kitchen. He straightened and cleared his throat. Shit, he still had her taste on his tongue, and his cock pressed hard and heavy against his zipper, still expecting release. In vain.

Through the spy hole in the door, he identified Thomas and Eddie. What the fuck did they want from him now? He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with his colleagues now, particularly not with the ever cheerful young Eddie who was Amaury’s brother-in-law. Neither did he have the stomach for Thomas, the ever perceptive mentor who’d never done a wrong thing in his life—well, maybe just once when he’d hooked up with Milo, his lover who’d later betrayed him.

“Listen, Zane,” Thomas suddenly said from behind her door, “we know you’re standing right there, so open the damn door.”

There were times when Zane hated the enhanced senses every vampire possessed. Tonight was one of those times.

He opened the door and moved aside, hoping that the smell of the old house would distract his colleagues from the scent of Portia that was all over his body and his clothes. But the moment Thomas walked in, wearing, as always, his biker duds, consisting of leather and more leather, the flaring of his nostrils and narrowing of his eyes were indication enough that he had noticed something. Figured.

As Eddie followed Thomas and closed the door behind them, Zane glared at Thomas, silently daring him to make a nasty comment. Thomas’ age and experience won out over the impulse that sat clearly on his lips. Now all that had to happen was for Portia to stay out of the way and remain in the kitchen, so Thomas would know only that Zane wore the smell of a woman, not that it was the scent of the charge he was guarding.

“What’s up?” Zane kept his jaw tight.

“Hey, Zane,” Eddie greeted him and looked around.

Thomas merely nodded. “I’m here to relieve you.”

Relieve him? Shit! How could they already know what he’d done, how he’d violated Scanguards’ code of ethics?

Thomas inclined his head toward Eddie. “Eddie will take you to Drake for your appointment.”

Appointment? Zane’s gaze snapped to Eddie, then back to Thomas. His heartbeat kicked up. “I’d know if I had an appointment with that quack!” That about summed up what he thought of the shrink who appeared to be a favorite among Scanguards staff.

“Samson figured that would be your reaction, so he decided not—”

“He decided? Samson doesn’t get to decide my life!”

“You wanna keep working for Scanguards, you follow his rules.”

Zane’s gums itched for a bite. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? And you two, you’re playing his messenger boys because he doesn’t have the guts to tell me himself?” He thrust his chin up in challenge, daring Thomas to give him a reason to launch his fists into his colleague’s too-pretty face.

Thomas moved in vampire speed to go face to face with Zane. “Be very careful, my friend, what you say about Samson. He’s been my friend for a very long time, far longer than either of us has known you. If I decide to repeat our little chat to him, you’re not one of us anymore. Does that get through your thick skull?”

“What’s going on here? Who are these people, Zane?” Portia’s voice came from behind him.

Shit, his luck had just turned.

Zane moved his head, seeing her approach with caution. “Colleagues,” he pressed out.

“Oh, well then …” She gave Thomas and Eddie a warm smile.

Had she ever smiled at him like that? He couldn’t recall. The realization hit him like somebody was driving a stake through his chest: Portia didn’t like him at all, otherwise why wouldn’t she smile at him the way she smiled at Thomas and Eddie now?