―It didn‘t have to be like this,‖ he told her, his tone deceptively gentle. ―Just know that you brought this on yourself. Be grateful I didn‘t turn you over to my Master instead.‖
He stroked her cheek, his touch revolting. When she flinched away, he held her hair tighter, forcing her to look at him. He leaned in as if to kiss her, and Tess spat in his face, fighting back by the only means he‘d left her.
Tess braced herself for retaliation as he raised his free hand to strike her. ―You fucking bit—‖
He didn‘t get a chance to finish speaking, let alone touch her. A blast of arctic air rushed in from the open doorway, the instant before the space filled with the massive form of a man clothed in solid black and wearing opaque wraparound sunglasses. Guns and blades hung from his hips and from the thick leather holsters that crisscrossed his muscular torso.
Dante.
Tess would know him anywhere, even beneath the cover of all that black. Hope flared in her, along with surprise. She could feel him reaching out to her with his mind, assuring her that he would get her out of there. That she was safe now.
And at the same time, she could feel his rage. The icy chill of it rolled off his huge body, centering on Ben. Dante lowered his head, the focus of his gaze readable even through the dark lenses that shielded his eyes. A glow emanated from behind those black shades—ember bright, and deadly.
With the flick of a glance, Ben‘s body was jerked up off the floor and smashed into the cabinets on the exam-room wall. He kicked and flailed, but Dante held him aloft with just the power of his will. When another black-clad warrior appeared in the doorway, Dante growled a command.
―Get her out of here, Chase. I don‘t want her to see this.‖
Dante‘s companion came over and cut Tess loose, then carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the clinic to an SUV that idled out back.
Once Chase had removed Tess from the room, Dante let go of his mental hold on the human. The contact severed, Sullivan dropped like dead weight to the floor. He started to scramble up, trying to grab for a knife he‘d left lying on the counter. Dante sent the blade flying with a sharp mental command, embedding the steel point in the opposite wall.
He stalked farther into the room, forgoing his own weapons in order to deliver Ben Sullivan‘s death with his hands. He wanted vengeance now, and he meant to make the bastard suffer for what he‘d intended to do to Tess. For what he had done to her in the time before Dante reached her.
―Get up,‖ he ordered the human. ―It ends here.‖
Sullivan chuckled, coming up slowly to his feet. When Dante met his gaze, he saw the dull glint of a mind slave in the Crimson dealer‘s eyes. Ben Sullivan had been turned Minion. Certainly explained his recent MIA status. Killing him by any means was going to be doing him a favor.
―Where‘s your Master hiding out these days, Minion?‖
Sullivan only glared at him.
―Did he tell you we kicked his ass last summer, that he ran off with his tail between his legs rather than face the Order mano a mano? He‘s a coward and a poseur, and we‘re gonna take him down.‖
―Fuck you, vampire.‖
―No, I don‘t think so,‖ Dante said, noting the twitch of muscle in the Minion‘s legs, the telltale movement that told him Sullivan was about to snap. ―Fuck you, you Minion piece of shit. And fuck the son of a bitch who owns you too.‖
A shrill bellow came out of the Minion‘s mouth as he launched himself across the room at Dante. Sullivan punched and hammered at him, fists flying fast, but not so fast that Dante couldn‘t block them. In the scuffle, Dante‘s chest covering tore away, exposing his skin. With a roar, he sent a blow into the Minion‘s face, relishing the crack of bone and the dull smack of giving flesh that sounded on impact.
Ben Sullivan went down in a sprawl. ―There is only one true Master of the race,‖ he hissed up at Dante. ―Soon he will rule as king—as is his birthright!‖
―Not bloody likely,‖ Dante replied, lifting the Minion‘s bulk off the floor in one hand, then sending him airborne.
Sullivan slid across the polished surface of the table where he‘d held Tess and crashed into the windowed wall on the other side of the room. He righted himself at once, leaping up to his feet but weaving in front of the blinds, which swung back and forth behind him. Dante instinctively shielded his eyes from the intermittent light, bringing his arm up to block the rays.
―What‘s the matter? Too bright for you, vampire?‖ He grinned through bloodstained teeth. In his hand was a piece of broken drawer, which he held before him like a jagged club. ―How about a little lesson from Die Hard?‖
He swung his arm back and shattered the window, knocking the blinds askew and sending glass flying all around them. Sunlight poured in, searing Dante‘s eyes behind his shades. He roared at the sudden agony shredding his corneas, and in that brief second of inattention, Ben Sullivan rolled out from under him, trying to escape.