Not when Raphael stood there with pure hatred and vengeance in his cold, flat eyes.
“I hear you talking, but all that is coming out of your mouth is lies.” Raphael snapped his fingers, and the man on the right—big, muscular guy with a scar running down the left side of his face—rushed Dalton.
They collided and slammed into the wall, creating a huge hole as Dalton fought to get the guy off of him. Dalton wasn’t a small man himself. In fact, he was six feet six inches of pure, broad muscles, yet the vampire was giving him a run for his money.
They crashed into the bookcase, knocking down shelves and knickknacks, as well as books and framed photos. Finally Dalton got his arm free and plunged his hand deep into the bastard’s chest, ripping out his heart.
Fuck, that was nasty. It was one reason Dalton had walked away from hunting. He hated having to tear hearts out. It was gross as hell and always made him dry heave.
He dropped the large muscle and spun to face Raphael. Why was Dalton’s hand tingling?
If they were going to take him on one at a time, Dalton stood a chance, but luck wasn’t on his side. A vampire emerged from the kitchen, a smug look on his face.
Just how many intruders were there? At least Sherman wasn’t there. Dalton couldn’t imagine trying to fight the vampires while trying to protect his mate.
“You’re not going to win this,” Raphael said. “I’m prepared this time. You don’t have a chance in hell of escaping.”
Dalton had a sinking feeling Raphael was right.
“Even if you kill every last one of us, the poison is already working.” Raphael drew closer, making Dalton growl. “Tell me. Has the tingling morphed into pain yet? If it hasn’t, soon enough it will. Borat’s blood was tainted, and you stuck your hand right in there.”
“You son of a bitch,” Dalton said between clenched teeth.
“I’m not going to outright kill you, Dalton. I’m going to make you suffer first.” Raphael drew even closer, but Dalton didn’t touch him. Not when he was outnumbered and the tingling in his right hand was slowly turning into a burning sensation, like when a limb woke up after it had fallen asleep. “I’m going to draw this out, and no matter how much pain you feel, that will be nothing compared to how I suffered after you took my brother from me.”
Dalton didn’t bother to argue that he hadn’t killed Micaiah. Raphael wasn’t going to believe him. The vampire was beyond reason.
“I’ll be back.” Raphael smirked, though his eyes were still dead. “I didn’t mean to sound like the Terminator, but I will be as relentless as he was.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Dalton snarled as Raphael and his men headed for the door. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to rip your fucking heart out.”
Raphael paused and turned slightly. “You could try. By the way, who is that pudgy little human I saw you with? You two seemed very cozy together. Boyfriend? Fuck buddy? Mate? Hmm. Don’t worry. I’ll figure out your relationship with him.”
Dalton refused to react. If he did, if he threatened Raphael to stay the hell away from Sherman, he would only confirm Raphael’s suspension. He just glared at the prick as Raphael shrugged and headed out the door.
As soon as he was gone, Dalton grabbed his cell phone and called Dr. Evan Scott, the town veterinarian. When Evan answered, Dalton said, “I need to come into the clinic right now.”
“Lucky for you I haven’t gone home yet. I’ll go downstairs and let you in.” The doctor hung up.
That was what Dalton loved about Evan. The guy never asked questions. He was just at the ready for any problems that came his way. If Evan had gone home, Dalton would have just gone to the mansion to see him since Evan was a part of Ben’s pack.
Dalton hissed. The burning sensation had traveled from his hand to his wrist. He had no idea what kind of poison Raphael had used and prayed Evan had a cure, or he was screwed.
Chapter Six
Sherman felt like he was dragging ass as he pulled into Dalton’s driveway. It was late, and he should have gone back to his mom’s house with Payton and Miller, but he missed Dalton and wanted to see him because it felt like forever since he’d last laid eyes on his mate.
With a wide yawn, Sherman got out of his mom’s sedan and walked to the front door. The only thing he wanted was to fall asleep in Dalton’s arms.
After ringing the bell twice and getting no answer, Sherman looked around. Had Dalton been called into the station? Was there some sort of emergency? Should he go to the station and see if his mate was there? Sherman was disappointed that Dalton wasn’t home because he wanted to get lost in a hug, which he desperately needed.
So far his mom was stable, but as the doctor had warned once more before Sherman had left, Gladys Gaines wasn’t out of the woods just yet. Sherman couldn’t imagine losing her. What would the world be like without her in it?
That was a question he didn’t want an answer to. The thought hurt his head and heart just thinking about it. He’d known her, had felt her love, for twenty-four years.
No, he wasn’t going to think about losing her. Sherman shoved that thought right out of his mind.
He’d started back toward the car when he heard rustling on the side of the house. It had sounded like a squirrel or other small creature in the bushes.
Sherman glanced around. Dalton lived in a pretty rural part of town, with not many houses close by. It was dark, eerily quiet, with just a slight breeze blowing.
Why on earth was he spooked? Maybe because he thought of when he was kidnapped. Maybe because he’d nearly been blown to smithereens. Maybe it was because Sherman had found out that humans weren’t the only people to walk the earth.
He shivered as he hurried toward the car, unnerved at the feeling that he was being watched. Sherman tore his gaze away from the side of the house and reached for the handle on the driver’s side, but another noise distracted him.
This one was a low moan, as if the wind had suddenly found its voice. It carried a sound to Sherman, something that sounded like a wounded animal.
No, no, no. Sherman was not going to investigate. He was going to get his ass into his mom’s car and get out of there. It was cold, late, and he was dead on his feet. He also wasn’t brave enough to walk into the shadows and find out what was making that noise.
He wasn’t a damn idiot, and his self-preservation was kicking in. Why hadn’t he stayed at his mom’s with Payton and Miller? He could have visited Dalton in the morning when it was less creepy outside.
Then again, Sherman had expected Dalton to be home.
“Sherman.”
What the hell? Sherman spun around, narrowing his eyes as he looked around. Had the wind just whispered his name? “Who’s-who’s there?”
Fuck. Had he really just asked that? Did he have a death wish? His mind screamed for him to leave, but he couldn’t get his feet working.
“Sherman.”
Oh hell no. Sherman jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car. He wasn’t about to stick around and find out who or what that disembodied voice belonged to. No force on heaven or earth could make him investigate. He was a chicken through and through.
Sherman backed out of the driveway and headed down the country road. He had to use his high beams because there weren’t any streetlights this far from town. Also, the roads had frozen over when the sun had set, so he had to be careful navigating.