He had considered paying this visit to Tess‘s Crimson-dealing ex-boyfriend by himself but thought he‘d better bring along some backup just in case. Backup for Ben Sullivan, not himself. Dante wasn‘t at all sure the human would be breathing when he was finished with him if he‘d come alone. And not just because Sullivan was drug-dealing scum either. The fact that the guy knew Tess, and no doubt knew her intimately, flipped a trigger on Dante‘s rage. An unbidden sense of possession stole over him, a need to protect her from losers like this Ben Sullivan person.
Right. Like Dante himself was some kind of prize.
―How did you find it?‖ Chase‘s question cut into his thoughts, snapping him back to his mission.
―Aside from seeing the human jackrabbit out of the club ahead of us the other night, we didn‘t have much to go on as far as IDing him.‖
Dante didn‘t even glance over at Chase, just lifted his shoulder in a shrug as memories of his hours with Tess swamped his senses in vivid recall.
―Doesn‘t matter how I got it,‖ he said after a long minute. ―You Darkhaven suits have your methods; we have ours.‖
Just as another wave of itchy impatience flooded through him, Dante caught a glimpse of his quarry. He sat up in the driver‘s seat of the vehicle, glaring out into the dark. The human came around a corner, head down, face partially shielded by a gray hooded sweatshirt. His hands were thrust into the pockets of a bulky parkalike vest, and the guy was walking fast, throwing continuous looks over his shoulder as if he expected trouble on his heels. But it was him, Dante was certain.
―Here‘s our man now,‖ he said as the human jogged up the concrete steps outside his flat. ―Let‘s go, Harvard. Look alive.‖
They left the vehicle on alarm and followed him right into the building before the door closed behind him, both Breed males moving with the speed and agility that came naturally to those of the vampire race. By the time the human stuck his key in the lock of his third-floor apartment door and pushed it open, Dante was shoving him into the dark, tossing the guy across the spartan living room.
―Motherfu—‖ Sullivan came up out of his crash on one knee, then froze, his face caught in a wedge of light from the bare bulb glowing in the hall outside.
Something flashed in the human‘s eyes, something
beneath
his
immediate
fear.
Recognition, Dante thought, figuring he probably remembered them from the club the other night. But there was anger there too. Pure male animosity. Dante could smell it seeping out of the human‘s pores.
He slowly got to his feet. ―What the fuck‘s going on?‖
―How about you tell us,‖ Dante said, willing a lamp to come on as he strode farther into the place. Behind him, Chase closed and locked the door.
―I‘m pretty sure you can guess this isn‘t a social call.‖
―What do you want?‖
―We‘ll start with information. It‘ll be up to you how we go about getting it.‖
―What kind of information?‖ His gaze swung anxiously between Dante and Chase. ―I don‘t know who you guys are, and I don‘t have any idea what you‘re talking abou—‖
―Now, see,‖ Dante said, cutting him off with a chuckle, ―that kind of bullshit answer puts us off to a real bad start.‖ As the human‘s right hand slid into the deep pocket of his down-filled vest, Dante smirked. ―You wanna convince me you‘re an idiot, go ahead and pull that gun out. Just so we‘re clear, I really hope you do.‖
Ben Sullivan‘s face blanched as white as his apartment‘s unpainted walls. He pulled his hand back out, nice and slow. ―How did you—‖
―You expecting somebody besides us tonight?‖
Dante strode up to him and removed the beat-up
.45-caliber pistol from his pocket without any resistance. He turned to Chase and handed him the safety-locked
weapon.
―Piece-of-shit-looking
hardware for a piece-of-shit drug dealer, eh?‖
―I just got that for protection, and I‘m not a drug deal—‖
―Have a seat,‖ Dante said, and dropped the guy onto a fake-suede recliner, the room‘s sole piece of furniture aside from the computer workstation in the corner and the shelf of stereo equipment against the wall. To Chase, Dante said, ―Give the place a good sweep, see what you can find.‖
―I‘m not a drug dealer,‖ Sullivan insisted as Chase moved off to begin searching. ―I don‘t know what you think—‖
―I‘ll tell you what I think.‖ Dante got down in his face, feeling his anger flare in the sharpening of his eyes and the slight prick of his fangs against his tongue. ―I know you‘re not going to sit there and deny that we saw you dealing Crimson in the back of that club three nights ago. How long have you been trafficking in that shit? Where are you getting it?‖