“Who are you?”
“Ben. Now get moving. Someone is outside waiting for you.” Ben went to the window and opened it just as Morton stepped into the room. “Go, now!”
As badly as Sherman wanted to stay to make sure Dalton was okay, he didn’t want to get eaten by Morton. He clambered out the window, but his foot got caught on the sill. If strong arms hadn’t grabbed him, Sherman would have face planted.
“Let’s go,” the guy said.
Sherman rushed beside the guy, trying his best to keep up with the stranger’s long strides. They made it to a green Bronco, and Sherman jumped into the passenger side. Within seconds they were taking off, leaving Dalton behind.
“Go back!” Sherman reached for the door handle. “I can’t leave my mate!”
The guy grabbed Sherman’s arm. “Dalton has help. There’re five guys invading the house right now. Those vampires don’t stand a chance.”
Even so, Sherman felt like the worst mate ever for tucking tail and running. He just prayed Dalton forgave him because he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself.
Chapter Eight
Dalton’s ribs were killing him from the blows Raphael had delivered. Not only did the vampire have a powerful punch but he’d struck Dalton so many times that his midsection should have caved in.
Still, Dalton stayed on his feet, trying his best to fight with one good arm. His right arm dangled uselessly and throbbed with immense pain.
“I see the poison is working its way through you,” Raphael taunted. “It won’t be long before it reaches your heart. A lesser man and it would have done its damage by now, but since you’re a hulking man, I’m assuming it will take a bit longer.”
“I told you I didn’t kill your brother,” Dalton said, snarling low. “But since you sought me out, came after me and mine, I’m going to taste the iron in your blood, you rotten son of a bitch.”
They exchanged another round of blows with each other, and it must have been the poison, because Dalton never tired that quickly. He swayed on his feet but managed to get his left arm around Raphael when the vampire moved in for the kill.
Using his brute strength, Dalton held the vampire in a chokehold, trying to keep Raphael pinned so he could catch his breath. The vampire was strong, fighting to get free.
Dalton was winded and losing the battle. He was barely staying upright.
The room flooded with men. Raphael ripped himself away from Dalton’s hold and raced for the door. Dalton would have gone after him, but he was starting to see double.
Instead, he stood by the living window, trying not to fall over, as he watched the two vampires that had been with Raphael get carried away. They were dead, and their boss, as infuriating as it was, had gotten away.
Dalton had had a good grip on Raphael, had been ready to rip his heart out, but as soon as the wolf shifters infiltrated the house, Raphael had used his inhuman speed and had shot out the front door.
He would have feared that the vampire was going after Sherman, but Dalton saw Lee’s green Bronco parked at the curb. The bastard was supposed to have driven Sherman to his mother’s house, not stick around.
Not only did Dalton want to keep Sherman out of harm’s way but he hadn’t wanted his mate to see the carnage. It was going to take a lot of scrubbing to get the blood out of various spots, like the back of the couch where spatters made the material look like a Jackson Pollock painting.
The couch would have to be replaced. No amount of cleaning solutions would get those stains out.
“We’ll track him down,” Ben assured Dalton. “If he’s still in town, he can’t hide from us. Until then, I’m inviting you and your mate to stay with me so you can get your house back in order and make sure your problem is dealt with.”
Dalton nodded. “Thanks for your help.”
This was all going to shit, and quickly. Had Dalton known back then that Raphael would blame him for his brother’s death, that years later he would finally catch up to him and kidnap his mate, Dalton would have never joined Christian on that hunt.
He’d put that part of his life behind him, had walked away from being one of the swords the Ultionem used against rogue nonhumans. Now that part of his life had come back for revenge, and Dalton had more at stake than he had back then.
“Is it okay to come in?” Sherman asked from the doorway. “Don’t be mad at Lee. I threatened to cut his balls off if he didn’t bring me back to you.”
Dalton highly doubted the threat had worked. Lee was a seasoned warrior and wouldn’t have buckled under Sherman’s threat. Something else had brought them back, and Dalton was glad. If Sherman had gone to his mom’s, Dalton would have worried that Raphael had gone there, too.
When Dalton held an arm out, Sherman hurried to him and hugged him, making it possible for Dalton to curl his arm around his mate. Since that morning, this was all Dalton had wanted to do, to hold Sherman, to be close to him.
They were newly mated, and having Sherman around other males made Dalton’s bear want to kill everyone in the room. He didn’t like being separated from his mate but had given Sherman the space he’d wanted.
That decision had nearly cost Sherman his life.
Dalton wouldn’t make that mistake again. His mate meant everything to him, and he wouldn’t chance losing Sherman.
“You don’t look so hot,” Ben said as he glanced Dalton’s way.
Sherman pulled back and looked up at Dalton. “You’re pale and sweaty.”
The room began to swim as Dalton staggered sideways.
“Whoa!” Sherman shoved at Dalton to stop him from stumbling into the wall, but his human didn’t have the strength to hold Dalton’s weight.
Ben rushed across the room and grabbed Dalton, easing him onto the couch. “Were you injured?”
Dalton squeezed his eyes shut. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. “Poisoned. Raphael poisoned me last night. Dr. Scott knows about it. Call him.”
Ben cursed up a storm. Dalton opened his eyes, though it was a struggle, and noticed Sherman on the couch next to him, worried lines creasing his brow.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?” Sherman demanded.
“Because I had to get to you,” Dalton confessed. “I had to save you, Sherman. I had to.”
Tears welled in Sherman’s eyes, and his voice shook when he spoke. “You big idiot. My life isn’t important enough for you to risk yours. I would have somehow figured a way out of this. Now look at you. I’m gonna kick your ass when you feel better.”
Dalton managed a weak smile as his mate wiped the tears from his own eyes. “Looking forward to it, shorty.”
The room spun even faster right before Dalton passed out.
* * * *
“Hurry!” Sherman shouted as Ben drove down the road like a maniac. “His breathing sounds weird, and I can’t wake him up.”
Dalton was laid out in the backseat of the Bronco, his legs bent because he was too big to fit while lying down. Sherman was on his knees on the floor, shaking Dalton, trying his best to wake his mate.
“Please wake up.” A tear streaked down Sherman’s face. “Please don’t die on me.”