Z.A.N.E. swallowed. The thought of stilling his hunger overwhelmed his scruples of killing. “And the mind control. How does it work?”

“You have to concentrate on what you want most. You’ll feel a warmth starting in your belly. It’ll engulf your entire body. When you feel the heat, focus your mind on the person you want to influence. Tell him what you want him to do, and he’ll do it. Never lose your concentration. Forget the pain the silver is inflicting. Only think of your goal.”

The breathing of the other vampire slowed.

“I’m sorry.”

As the vampire’s eyes flew open, a faint glint sparkled there. “It is time to die. Good-bye my friend, and promise me, you’ll kill them all, you’ll kill the men who did this to us.”

Z.A.N.E. nodded and lowered his head to the man’s neck. When his fangs sank into his flesh, he pulled on the vein and sucked the vessel until it was dry, until the heartbeat inside the shell disappeared. He felt his own body fill with the life giving liquid, his muscles strengthening, his mind thinking clearer now.

He was a killer now; nothing would ever change that.

The Czech vampire had been right. With his blood, he was feeling stronger, and his tenth attempt at mind control finally produced the expected result: he was able to control one of the guards and mentally forced him to free him of his silver chains while the second guard had nodded off.

He drained the guard who’d freed him and dropped his lifeless body to the ground. He felt a surge of strength and power in his new body, but before he could reach the second guard, he’d awakened and sounded the alarm. From everywhere, more guards came running.

In an effort to create confusion, Z.A.N.E. managed to open several cells so some of the inmates could escape. He used the uproar to search for his sister. Shots were fired, and a battle broke out between the released prisoners and the guards. Desperation, and the hope of a rumored rescue by the Allies, lent the human guinea pigs more strength than the guards expected, and more than they would have had before the rumors.

But there was no time for Z.A.N.E. to rejoice. He found Rachel in one of the treatment rooms, strapped onto a gurney. Her head thrashed wildly. Her body was broken: they had carved her womb open while she was still alive. He could only assume so they could examine if she had working reproductive organs.

His heart clenched. “Rachel.”

She opened her eyes then. At first, they didn’t focus, and she stared blankly, but then a flash of recognition lit in them. “Zacharias.”

“I’m here now. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Let me go.”

“Yes, we’re going. I’ll help you heal. Human blood,” he murmured. He would get one of the remaining humans and have her drink from him, so she could heal.

“No. Let me go. I can’t live like this. Let me go,” she begged, and he finally understood.

“NOOOO!” he wailed.

She stretched her hands toward him, her eyes repeating her wish. Then her eyes darted toward a table with instruments. He followed her gaze and saw the wooden stake the doctors had fashioned. Whenever they were done with one of the vampires they had created, or when they feared the creature would become too strong, they used it to be sure it would not.

His feet moved before he knew his brain had made the decision. When his palm wrapped around the smooth wooden surface, he felt as if somebody was ripping his still beating heart from his body.

But when he looked back at Rachel and saw her give him a faint smile, he knew it was the only solution.

“I love you, Zacharias.”

Then he did what he had to do. It was the last time tears streamed down his face.

Heavy sobs brought him back to the present. The tears weren’t Zane’s but Portia’s.

“Baby girl, why are you crying?”

“They hurt you so much.”

The chains around his heart loosened further. “Don’t cry for me. I’m a killer.”

She shook her head, her long hair caressing his chest in the process. “They're responsible. It’s not your fault. They're the monsters.”

“Most of them are dead now.”

He tipped her head up with his thumb and forefinger and wiped her tears.

“The assassin Quinn spoke of the other night. Is he one of them?” she asked.

“He was Brandt’s hybrid son.”

Shock widened her eyes. “But Brandt was human.”

“They used the blood they drained from the vampires they created and fled with it the same night I escaped. They knew how to turn a human into a vampire, so they performed the transformation on each other. It was what Müller always wanted: immortality and a master race. He had what he wanted.”