Dallas almost hoped it wasn't. Mia would use the vampire until her veins were bone dry, and Devyn wouldn't like it. Might even leave AIR and Earth for good. That's the kind of guy he was. If he wanted something, he considered it his. Whether he planned to keep that something or not. And he didn't like when other people messed with his stuff.
More than that, Mia might even go on a hunt for other vampires, thinking to use them as well. Anything to protect her agents. Understandable, but dangerous. Already she was asking questions. Where are the others? How have they been able to hide for so long? Devyn had refused to answer.
"You want to prove your new allegiance to us," Hector said, drawing Dallas from his musings, "you'll tell us where your queen is gonna be and when, so that we can kill her."
Those silver eyes narrowed on them. "The death blow isn't yours to deliver. It's mine. I'd think the two of you would understand that."
He did. And he even thought Nolan meant to aid them this time. Unlike last time, when the otherworlder had promised to help them destroy his queen and the men she'd infected but had betrayed AIR instead, leading them straight into an ambush. Now, his eyes were alert, no longer glazed as if he were hypnotized, or a puppet, and they glowed with genuine hate. Didn't matter, though. They couldn't chance it.
Suddenly Hector straightened. His ears practically twitched. "Do you hear that?"
Dallas straightened, too, concentrating on the noises around him. There, at the door, he could make out a soft scratching. Like metal gliding and twisting against metal.
Someone was trying to disable the ID lock.
"B and E in progress," he said. "Stay here and guard Nolan. Nolan, keep your mouth shut." He was on his feet before Hector could protest, silently trekking to the door. Along the way, he withdrew his pyre-gun. "Let's try to keep everyone alive today, boys and girls."
Should he let the perp destroy the lock completely and enter so that he could immobilize him—or her—here? Or should he jerk open the door and just start firing?
Here, he could keep the damage contained. But that placed Nolan in danger and would also give any stragglers time to run away.
"—possible break-in," Hector was whispering into his cell. The agent had moved to the cage, in front of Nolan, with his profile to the window and the door. He sheathed his phone, palmed his weapons. One of his guns, the semi, was aimed at the door and the other, the pyre, at the window. Just in case.
Backup was on its way.
Let 'em in, Dallas thought then. Hector could keep
Nolan safe, and this way Dallas could protect any innocents lingering in the hallway.
He pressed against the wall and angled toward the door. A minute passed, then another. Had the perp failed? Given up? And who the hell wanted Bride? Her family? Had they found her? Were the McKell warriors here? Was this the beginning of his vision? Dallas fought a wave of dread.
Finally, the metal creaked open and a man Dallas didn't recognize pushed inside as if he owned the place, his own pyre-gun extended. Dallas blasted him, a blue beam seeping past his clothes. It didn't immobilize him, proving him to be human.
As another male pounded inside, then another, Dallas and the first male launched at each other.
"Shit," Hector cursed, drawing the newcomers' attention. He was immediately blasted with stun rays himself. None affected him, either. He squeezed off a round of bullets, nailing both men in the shoulders. They grunted, jerked, but didn't fall.
Dallas kicked his opponent in the stomach, propelling him into the wall. At the same time, he elbowed one of the bleeding men in the throat. Then he spun and head butted the other in the forehead. All three hit the ground in quick succession, their guns skidding out of reach.
"And that," he said, dusting his hands together, "is how it's done."
Except, the one he'd kicked gained his bearings, and grabbed Dallas by the ankles. With a tug, Dallas crashed to the concrete floor. Maybe his skull had cracked, maybe his brain was just rattling back and forth. Either way, a sharp pain tore through his head. He battled through it, said, "Don't shoot him," to Hector, and pulled himself to a crouch.
"Where's the vampire?" the guy snarled, kicking him in the stomach.
That these humans wanted Bride enough to break into her apartment could mean only one thing. They were the slavers Devyn hoped to kill. "She's not here," he said, forcing himself to his feet. "How 'bout you dance with me instead?"
Dallas swiped out his arm, a small dagger sliding from the cuff in his shirt. His fingers curled around the hilt a split second before his hand reached the human. Contact. The tip sliced just enough to send the guy into a panic.
There was a gasp, a gurgle as blood leaked from him at the same rate as his swift heartbeat, and the man dropped to his knees, clutching at the groove. "You'll be fine," Dallas told him. "Weak but fine. Now you're going to answer some questions."
"No, he won't."
The other two must have found a reservoir of strength, because they launched themselves at Dallas, roaring, pissed as hell, and determined to end him. Their fists hammered at his head, his stomach, and his groin. Their knees slammed into his lungs, jetting the air from his lips. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but again, he pushed through.
Dallas grabbed one by the arm, twisted, and snapped the bone in two. Amid howls of agony, he ducked, ramming his head into the stomach of the only one left standing, and running. Running until the human slammed into the wall, all the while those meaty fists slugging at him. Pictures fell from the wall and crashed onto the floor.
Dallas pulled back both arms and let them fly. Teeth scraped his knuckles. Then bone gave way.
Then cartilage snapped and blood gushed. The man slumped to the floor.
"Well done," Hector said, stowing his weapons and stalking over. When he reached the first guy, Cut Throat, he planted his boot directly on top of the wound and pressed. "What are you doing here, ass wipe? And don't even think about playing games with me, because there are three of you, and I only need one to get my answers."
Cut Throat struggled to breathe.
"No need for violence," Dallas said. He didn't want Hector slapped with a fine for unnecessarily hurting a human. An otherworlder wouldn't have mattered.
Dallas hated the double standard. Once, he hadn't minded it. Had thought it was for the best. Earth belonged to humans, after all. Since he'd acquired his own powers and realized the full sting of prejudice, though, his views had changed completely. Just because someone was different, that didn't mean they needed to be feared. Or put down.