“Why are we out here hunting again?” Rusty murmured. “If there were rogues out here, we’d know about it because any of the other supernaturals that choose to live in this realm around us would have probably informed us.”
“Who knows.” Gabe huffed. “Our alpha isn’t exactly the sanest patient in the mental hospital.”
Kevin growled. “Careful.” He looked around them. “Things have a way of getting back to him.”
Dillon continued to listen to their hushed conversations as the afternoon wore on. It was extremely apparent to him they weren't happy with Jeremiah's leadership. Kevin, obviously very protective of the other two, kept warning them to be careful with their words, but then occasionally he’d throw out a comment that showed his own irritation.
Dillon opened his mouth to ask them about it, but then snapped it closed. He was here to claim his mate, not cause any disruption in the Colorado pack. Still, he couldn't help but feel for the wolves living under Jeremiah's authoritarian rule. His own alpha in Montana had been a servant leader, the concern for his wolves his highest priority, and Dillon had always thought that was how an alpha should lead.
The four men walked along a creek bed, searching the ground for tracks, human or wolf. Dillon suddenly stopped and held up a hand. The other three wolves froze behind him. Dillon listened hard with his wolf's hearing. He heard nothing, and that was what concerned him. The forest was never this silent. There was always birdsong or something scurrying in the undergrowth. Sometimes the sounds were too quiet for human ears to detect, but to a wolf, the forest was anything but calm.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of men leaping from the branches above.
"Vamps!" Rusty pointed to the monsters—five in all—dropping all around them.
"Back to back," Dillon yelled. He extended his claws and took in their attackers. Dillon didn't have time to size them up properly before the first one hissed and leaped at him, a dark blade in its hand. Then all hell broke loose.
Growls and screams erupted from both wolves and vampires alike as they engaged one another. Dillon blocked the strike of the vamp in front of him and swiped out with his clawed hand, raking the monster across the face.
“Why do I feel a sudden surge of violence coming through this bond?” Tanya’s voice filled his mind, and part of him wanted to throw a fist in the air at the fact that she’d reached out to him. But the part of him that wanted to stay alive kept his focus on his opponent.
“Can’t talk at the moment, T.” The nickname rolled naturally through the bond as if he’d called her that all of his life. “Dealing with some vamps.”
He took another swipe across the opposite side of the vampire's face. The monster gave an inhuman scream and fell back. Dillon didn't give it time to recover. Seeing one of the vamp’s comrades to his right looking to get a strike in, Dillon moved to his left. In a flash, Dillon grabbed the injured vamp and took its back. With a practiced motion, Dillon snapped the bastard's neck, but he didn't let it fall. Instead, he held the body between him and his next attacker. The vampire hesitated, looking for an opening. He tried to circle, but Dillon kept the dead vamp in between them.
“VAMPIRES!” Tanya’s panicked voice reverberated off the inside of his head. “What the hell do you mean ‘dealing with some vamps?’ Does my father know? Where are you? Why in the world are you fighting vampires, dammit?”
Dillon tried to pour reassurance into the bond. He wanted her to know he was fine because he didn’t have time to answer her rapid-fire questions, if he wanted to stay fine, that is. The attacker's patience ran out, and he rushed in. Dillon let the body drop, then shoved both hands forward, claws extended. The vamp impaled himself, his eyes bulging as Dillon pierced his internal organs. Dillon ripped his hands outward, bringing as much of the vampire's intestines with him as he could. The attacker took another step forward and fell.
Dillon quickly looked around. “It seems that you might have an infestation just inside the farthest border of the Colorado pack land,” he quickly explained. “I don’t think your father knows. Or maybe he does, and he was hoping they’d kill me.”
“Have you lost your freaking mind?”
“It’s possible.” Dillon noticed that he’d managed to even the odds. “I haven’t been quite right since we parted ways. And now you’re dealing with this horrible loss. The least I can do is kill some vampires around your pack.” Despite the damage he’d dealt, the Colorado pack members weren't faring well.
“You better not die, Dillon Jacobs.” She growled. “If anyone is going to take you out it will be me. That’s my right as your mate.”
His lips turned up as his wolf practically pranced because she’d basically just claimed them. Did the claim also come with a death threat, probably a legitimate one? Sure, but he’d take what he could get. “I have no intention of dying. At least not until I’ve gotten to hold you one time and look into those beautiful eyes again.” He was laying it on thick, though it was the complete truth.
He moved toward the other three males where each fought a vampire, and none of them looked like they had the upper hand. But one wolf in particular looked worse than the others. Rusty was on his knees, a giant gash in his side pouring blood into the forest floor. The vampire in front of him reared back, a blade in his hand, ready to take Rusty’s head from his body.
“Dillon, please. I’m being serious,” Tanya continued. He could feel genuine fear pulsing into him like electricity, and it only fueled his beast more.
“I’ve got to save Rusty—”
“Rusty! Why the hell is he fighting vampires? Who else is with you? Blasted all! None of you better die before I have a chance to tear into your hides for scaring the shit out of me when I’m trying to pick out a freaking casket!”
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, little mate,” he teased, hoping it would calm her down. “I promise not to die, or let Rusty die, or anyone else who I will not name that is present, and I promise to check in with you as soon as this is done.” He tightened down the bond because he had to focus as he lunged, phasing in midair. His dark grey wolf barreled into the vampire just as the stroke fell. The vampire went sideways, and the blade was knocked wide. Dillon saw out of the corner of his eyes that it buried itself in the dirt a couple of inches away from Rusty’s leg. Dillon came down on top of the vamp. Before the monster could react, the wolf’s jaws were clamped around the vampire’s throat. He jerked back and violently shook his head, saliva and blood flying through the air as Dillon ripped out the vamp's throat. But he didn't stop to savor the kill. He turned and leaped toward the vamp that was fighting Kevin. With a howl of rage, Dillon charged forward again, claws extended and fangs bared. He jumped onto the creature with lightning speed and tore into its flesh with powerful swipes of his claws before finally sinking his teeth deep into its throat and ripping it out in one ferocious bite.
He didn’t know if it was because of the emotions from Tanya, the anger at Jeremiah, or the comradery he felt for the three males, but something made him fight extraordinarily viciously. Maybe it was a mixture of all three, but he was not going to let one of them die, not as long as he still drew breath. The final vamp realized it was outnumbered. It shrieked and turned to run, but Dillon wasn't about to let it get away. He snarled and rushed forward, leaping onto the vampire's back. The monster went down face first, and Dillon clamped his jaws around the back of his neck. He wrenched and pulled, snarling and slavering all the while. Finally, with a sickening crunch, the head came free of the body. The wolf tossed his own massive head backward and released, sending the severed vampire head flying into the bushes.
Dillon quickly turned in a circle, taking in his surroundings, looking for any additional threats. After a few moments, his wolf was satisfied there were no more vamps hanging around, waiting to attack. Dillon phased and walked back to the group. Rusty was laying on his back on the ground. Kevin’s head was covered with blood dripping down the right side of his face. Gabe’s pants were ripped on the thigh, and thick blood oozed out.
Dillon motioned to Kevin’s head. "That going to be okay?"
Kevin nodded. "Looks worse than it is." He handed Dillon a pair of pants from a backpack. Dillon took them and put them on with a nod.
"How about him?" Dillon asked as he knelt by Rusty.
