were didn't reveal themselves to him until weeks later, when they travelled to Louisiana.
Victoria found them a house in New Orleans, where she left him for days at a time, seemingly off on some undisclosed business. All in good time, she would say when he enquired. He didn't dare leave the house at night for fear he would be recognized, having spent much time here when he first enlisted.
Zac became increasingly agitated at his confinement and Victoria finally agreed to keep him company. They were in the parlor that night when she received a guest. A tall, well built man, dressed as if he'd come to a dinner party in a fine waist coat and jacket, stood in the doorway. Victoria bade him stay as she took their guest to the dining room.
He knew the man was a vampire. He wasn't trying to hide it at all. Casting his hearing out, he heard the door close behind them. Stepping out into the hallway, he moved silently down towards the dining room and hesitated. The voices of the two vampires murmured on the other side. They hadn't noticed his approach. Leaning his back against the wall he listened.
"When he is ready, he will be unstoppable," Victoria was saying. "He is still too new, too prone to the rage."
"There is another who has their sights on the South, Victoria," the man replied, his voice urgent.
"I know full well what we're up against. Zachary will bend to my will one way or another and he will be the cold blooded killer I am shaping him to be," she said with pride. "You should see him, Alistair. Even when he looses control, he's beautiful to watch."
"If you're right, then together we will be forever safe from them," the man named Alistair replied.
"That is the goal. After I let her escape in Paris," she sighed. "If we win the South we will have her. I know she's here."
"I hope you are right, Victoria. For all our sakes."
Finally understanding, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. Victoria had turned him to help her win the South for her own gain. He had been a Captain, who'd commanded respect ; a respect that drove thirty-five men to their deaths unquestioned. Fighting and killing was second nature to him as a human. As a vampire, he would be capable of much greater horror. Victoria was using him.
When she finally came back to the parlor, closing the door behind her, she saw the hatred in Zac's eyes. Sitting beside him, she forced his face towards hers. "What is it, my dear?" she asked.
He stood abruptly; wrenching himself free, pacing over to the fireplace, "Tell me the truth, Victoria."
"I have always been truthful to you," she smiled, standing.
"You're a masterful liar," he scoffed. "Tell me the truth." When she didn't reply straight away he spat, "You're training me to do your bidding."
"Not mine, Zachary. Ours ."
He shook his head in disbelief, "I never wanted this!"
"Dear, Zachary," she caressed his cheek, attempting to calm him. "You will kill for us. It's the only thing you're good at."
He let her go, his expression falling into resentment. Victoria stepped into him, resting her head against his chest, her arms circling his waist.
"I won't let you use me," he whispered into her hair. "I am not your puppet."
She smiled up at him, kissing his cheek. "Oh, but you are and forever will be."
Her hands reached up and grasped his face as her expression contorted into malice. She was too quick for him. She had broken his neck before he could pull away, and he was dead before he hit the ground.
It was around midnight when he finally woke, sitting upright, gasping for breath. Looking around wildly, he realized he was alone. The house was empty.
"Victoria!" he roared, but knew he would receive no answer.
Standing, he paced back and forth, rubbing his neck. Where could she be? He knew nothing of her dealings, other than what he had overheard. Stopping abruptly, he realized that Victoria would teach him a lesson for his defiance. The only thing she knew he cared about was his