Amaya tried once again, unsuccessfully, to get a piece of her clothing between the silver shackles around her wrists and her skin. They burned painfully and she was finding it harder and harder to think of anything but the throbbing agony they were causing. The bastard that had taken her had locked them on her as soon as they were out of sight of the two men who’d tried to rescue her . . . Quinn.

The name ran around and around in her head as she memorized every inch of his face. His glaring and angry eyes as he stared at the Russian who held the gun to her head, dark emerald that she was certain would darken further in the throes of passion. Shit! Where did that thought come from? And why was she thinking such things when she was in such dire straits?

She should be trying to figure a way out of her predicament instead of daydreaming of the Scotsman naked . . . but once again her mind wandered to his tall, muscular body and what it would look like without being encased in a rumpled tux. Would it be as perfect as his face? Would he be a gentle lover? Or wild and rough? Amaya couldn’t help herself wondering what she’d prefer when they’d finally be alone and she had no doubts that would happen. Well, not many anyway.

The way he’d looked at her with such fierce protectiveness told her he’d do all in his power to find her. But would it be enough? Could he reach her in time? She knew she was in a precarious position. The man her abductor had brought her to was even worse than he was. An ancient Vampire with a heart as cold as ice and they’d moved from the hotel he’d been in to the warehouse they were now in. It was near an airport because she could clearly hear planes taking off and landing, but that was all she knew, other than the room she was in had no windows and was cold, dirty, and damp.

Her beast was going crazy, desperate to break free and furious that it could not. With the silver restraints binding it inside Amaya and her Tiger were thwarted from protecting themselves or attempting an escape. Her only hope was that her mate did as he promised and rescued her. Her mate. The sound of that was magical. It wasn’t something she’d ever expected and the fact it was a Vampire came as a whopping great surprise. She’d usually stay well clear of them because, for whatever damn reason, they seemed to have a craving for her Tiger’s blood. So, she kept away and never, not ever, had she allowed one to feed from her . . . well, not willingly anyway.

There was that time once when she was younger but that wasn’t by choice and she’d made that fucker pay when she’d grown, both in age and strength. But with Quinn, her mate? That would be different, wouldn’t it? Hell, she had no fucking idea. Guess she’d just have to wait and see. All she knew was the moment, the very second she’d seen him, scented him, she’d known he was hers. Her Tiger had roared in her head, deafening her, and her heart had soared to the very skies, her stomach fluttering and her mouth had watered as if a feast had been lain out before her. She’d almost forgotten she was being held by that damn Russian. Everything else had fell away and all she’d seen was him.

Until that fucker had pressed the muzzle to her temple. That had put a damper on everything. Then her mate had sworn to come for her. Sworn to find her and she believed him. Absolutely, one hundred percent, she believed him. He would get her back. She knew it. But she also felt something else. Something inside him that was . . . almost alive and as if it were consuming him. Amaya had a bad feeling about whatever it was. She couldn’t understand it, not really, but she had gifts from her father’s side and she could sense things in others, and she sensed something within Quinn that was . . . consuming him. Yes. That was the only way to describe what she sensed and she knew, just knew, that if he didn’t reach her in time that whatever it was would devour him completely and he’d be lost to her forever.

She couldn’t allow that to happen. Amaya would not allow that to happen. She had to figure out a way to help him. Help her mate. Help Quinn. She just had to think. First, she had to rest and then she’d have a clearer mind. Yes. Rest and then she’d know what to do. She’d call upon all her gifts and she’d come up with something to help him. She had to because both of their futures depended on it.

“No pressure then,” she mumbled as she lay down, closed her eyes and fell into a fitful slumber.

Quinn walked into the room with one goal coursing through him; get the answers he needed to save his Bloodmate. Nothing else mattered. All he sought was to make the Russian talk and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen. He just hoped that Jana and the rest of the team were on the same page and wouldn’t stand in his way, even if his methods became extreme.

The only people present were Jana, Delia and the Russian, a large mirror on one wall where he presumed the others were on the other side and watching everything that happened. The room was sparse, their prisoner sitting in one chair and two other chairs opposite, neither women occupied them. Jana stood in a corner while Delia paced back and forth, her head spinning to them when they entered.

“Finally,” she snapped.

“Has he said anything?” He nodded to the man in the chair.

“No.” Jana shook her head.

“Okay, can I start?” Quinn walked over, standing behind the seated prisoner.

“Sì,” Delia waved her hand at him.

He leaned down, voice low, barely a whisper at the fucker’s ear. “You’re not getting out of here. That’s not going to happen. But you’ve got a choice . . . I’m going to give you a choice.” He walked around to face him. “You’re a Shifter, and you have a need to transform, but that will be taken from you from this moment on. You’ll be in a cell and you won’t ever be able to change again . . . think about that. Not ever again. Never.”

His head shot up, eyes glinting with anger and Quinn spat out. “You’re not old. In fact, you’re young for a Bear so that’s going to be a very long time. But that’s not all, we’re going to place you in the wing set apart for Vampires. That’s where you’re going, fucker, and you’ll be their snack each and every damn day for the rest of your long life. Imagine that . . . being held down every day, morning, noon, and night to be fed on by groups of hungry and angry Vamps. They’ll feed from every part of your body, and I mean every part of your body. If you get my meaning, some of them have particular tastes and they’ll feed from your most intimate places while their friends laugh and jeer at you. Just take a moment to see that in your head. I’ll let you think about that for a moment.”

Quinn turned his back on him as he jerked in his restraints, growling and snarling, spittle flying from his mouth as he shook with anger. Finally, he shouted, “No! That’s against the law! It cannot be allowed.”

Jana stepped from her place in the corner, a sneer on her face. “I am Jana Noskova. I assume you’ve heard of me?”

His eyes locked on hers. “Of course. You cannot allow this. You are Magno Zara’s Second, how can you let him talk to me like this?”

Jana shrugged. “Your men have kidnapped a Bloodmate and we will do whatever it takes for her safe return.”

“No!” he screamed, his face turning bright red and the veins in his throat bulging.

“Yes,” Quinn replied quietly. “We will ensure this is your future unless you help us. If you tell us what we require, without the need for me to compel you, or the need for us to use magic, then maybe, just maybe you’ll be treated like a normal prisoner. You’ll still go to a Directive jail but you’ll be in the Shifter population . . . or, I can go one better. If you give us the information quickly and without the need for coercion, then I promise to end your life. That is your choice. A life in a Directive cell or die tonight. Your decision. This is a time limited offer so make up your mind now.”

Jana’s head whipped to him, her eyes closing to slits and he knew she didn’t agree with him but if it got them the answers they needed he didn’t give a goddamn shit. She opened her mouth to say something but, surprisingly, Delia’s hand shot out and landed on Jana’s shoulder. The Italian shook her head at Jana and she closed her mouth, a low growl coming forth instead as she spun away to return to her place in the corner.

Their prisoner’s body seemed to implode, shoulder’s drooping and head falling forward as his dire circumstances surrounded him. It took him only a few seconds to nod his assent. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

“What’s your name?” Quinn asked first.

“Zimin, and the man that took your Bloodmate is Mirov Andreevich.” He let out a groan as if he was in pain. “Shit, you’ll have to kill me because I won’t survive more than a week, even in a Directive prison.”

“Fine, if that’s your decision.” Quinn shrugged. “Carry on, we need every last detail.”

“We work for Zorin Igoravich and he’s got a Witch that he’s been using to try and capture these Bloodmates. He plans on finding them and then blackmailing their mates for as much money as he can get. When we’d captured her, we were to return to the hotel he was staying at . . . but wait . . . we weren’t staying there so there’s no point in going there. We were then going to a warehouse near the airport. He has a private jet that’s ready to leave at a moment’s notice. If the mate is in Hong Kong then he’d broker the deal here, if not, then he was going to fly out as soon as possible.”

“What else?” Quinn snarled, leaning down and scowling into Zimin’s face. “Do you have any other Bloodmates on your radar? If so, where? Who?”

Zimin shrank back, shaking his head. “I’m not privy to that information. Mirov is Zorin’s guy, not me. I only get told what I have to be by Mirov, or know stuff ‘cause I’ve overheard it. I’m telling you all that I know. You can compel me if you don’t believe me.”

“Is this Witch with him?” Delia asked from her place against the back wall.

“I’m not sure.” Zimin shook his head. “He was, but I heard Mirov saying something about him going off in search of something . . . or maybe it was someone. So, he might have left. I can’t be certain.”

“Where’s the warehouse? Do you have an address?” Quinn paced back and forth, eager to get the last piece of information before they could be on their way.

“Please,” Zimin’s voice pleaded as he lifted his head to follow Quinn. “I don’t have an address, I promise I’m telling the truth. Mirov knew where it was, but we were to go to the hotel and then go to it so I wasn’t told. I only know it was near the airport. I do know that it is owned by a Russian contact of Zorin’s that has an export business here but that’s all the information I have on it.”

Delia strode to the door, nodding to Jana. “We should try and find the warehouse as quickly as possible.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. I don’t suppose there’s too many Russians that have their own here, not if they’re Supernaturals anyway. We should have them on our database.”

“Wait!” Zimin shouted as they all moved to follow Delia. “You said you’d kill me and after I’ve told you this that’s the only fate open to me.”

Quinn shook his head, snarling. “Your fate is in the hands of The Directive. You honestly think I’d give you an easy way out after helping to take my Bloodmate from me? If you did then you’re more stupid than you look. I hope they lock you up and throw the fucking key away. Enjoy your time in the dark bowels of their prison, Zimin. It’s what you deserve.”

“No! You can’t do that! You can’t!” he screamed over and over as they all left him. The sound of his agony and terror of what was to come like music to Quinn’s ears as he joined the rest of the group in the hallway.

Slamming the door behind him he turned, grinning and seeing Jana looking at him in surprise. “Shit, Quinn, you had me fooled. I thought you were going to kill him.”

“I had to make him believe me.” Quinn’s lip curled up in a snarl. “And trust me, I wanted to end him, but I’m aware that it would’ve caused you problems and I think he’ll suffer more where he’s going. That means more to me than the momentary satisfaction I’d get by breaking his neck.”

She turned to Delia, raising a perfect eyebrow. “Did you know?”

Delia merely smirked. “I had my suspicions that he would not carry out his promise to end him. It would be too kind to do so and he doesn’t deserve such an act, not after his part in the kidnapping of the one thing that Signore Quinn holds most dear.”

“Shit,” Jana turned to Thorne, “What about you?”

“Me?” Thorne chuckled. “I was convinced. I thought he was gonna rip his fucking heart out right there in that room.”

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jana turned away, stomping to the adjacent room and going inside.

Quinn had been right, Mac, Henry and Ace were inside and had been watching the spectacle unfold. The Wolf stood with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face, Ace was sitting at a table with Henry. Ace was logged into a computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard his eyes on the screen. “I’m looking for the warehouse, Boss.”

“Any luck?” Quinn went over, standing and looking over his shoulder.

“There’s more than one Russian registered in the area that deals in Imports and Exports, and there’s three that have warehouses near the airport.” Ace pulled up the details. “Miss Noskova, I’m sorry but I obviously have no knowledge of any of these men. If you do then great, but we might be better asking someone from here? Someone with better local knowledge?”

Jana huffed, her head lowering to look over the names. “If they’re any kind of player then I’ll know. Especially if they’re into anything that we deem dishonest, or even suspect them of being so.”

“Hold up,” Thorne butted in, “Aren’t we making assumptions here? What if this guy isn’t one of us? He might not be a Supernatural, he could just be Russian and not necessarily a Supe. Zimin didn’t specify that, did he?”

The room descended into an uncomfortable silence. Quinn ran a hand down over his face as he realized their mistake. His mistake. He should’ve questioned the man further to confirm the identity of the Russian involved. Surely, he would’ve known if he were human or not? He would know if his boss dealt with his own kind or humans. Or not. Damn it. He’d fucked up and this would cost them precious time in trying to figure it out.

Jana cursed under her breath as Delia also did, Mac spinning back to glare through the window. “We can go back in, get it out of him.”

Mac’s outburst had them all shaking their heads but it was Jana who refuted him. “Not a chance. We’ve already broken his trust. He won’t tell us anything now, not even if he knows the answer. We’ll have to use magic or compulsion and that’s if he even knows, which he probably doesn’t.”

Quinn could barely contain himself. He’d been remiss in getting every last detail from Zimin and his rage was building up inside him, if he couldn’t find an answer, and soon, he would explode. His head felt like it was almost ready to burst wide open, a band of steel wrapped around it and tightening by the second. He reached up, massaging his temples in a vain attempt to ease the pain lancing through his skull as his mind careened in a dozen different directions in search of a solution. If Zorin was dealing with a human contact they were well and truly fucked because it could take them forever to locate the person involved and they didn’t have that kind of time . . . not when he was on the verge of losing it.

He’d seen the sly looks that Delia had been giving him. She knew, her team knew, and Jana sure as hell knew that he was slipping down the rabbit hole to insanity. It wouldn’t be long until they voiced their concerns aloud and when that came they’d also tell him their solution. And he was under no illusion of what that would be: his imprisonment or his death.

Neither was acceptable.

Just as he was about to storm back into the cell, a soft voice interrupted the arguing that was continuing around him. Halting everyone else and all attention was drawn to the Witch who stood in the corner. “Excuse me, but have I suddenly become invisible? Or have you forgotten I am here and part of this team?”

Delia reacted first, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Of course! Henry can help us. What do you suggest, Henry?”

Henry huffed before he replied, looking over at the computer screen. “I’d like a map of the locations of those three first. I can do a spell to see if anything is jumping out at me. If not, then I’ll do a more complicated one to try and locate the Bloodmate we’re seeking. It will take more time, of course, so the first option is quicker and may garner a result faster. If not, I’ll require some of Mister Alexander’s blood and somewhere quiet for me to perform my spell.”

“Perfect.” Jana nodded to Mac. “Can you go find us a map, please? Ask for a large aerial one that covers the entire warehouse districts near any airports, specifically at those locations.”

Ace hit a few buttons and the printer beneath the desk whirred to life, he handed the paper to Mac. “Here’s the addresses.”

“Thanks.” Mac snatched the sheet and headed out.

“Now, if you could clear the table, step back and give me some space.” Henry waved his hand around, “And I’d prefer silence so I can concentrate and get my thoughts together.”

Everyone spread out against the walls as Henry moved to stand at the desk, his hands running through his blond hair a few times before dropping to land on the table. His eyes closed and he appeared to be concentrating, on what Quinn had no idea, but he hoped whatever it was would help in the search for Amaya. He wasn’t overly fond of Witches, but he’d used them if it was necessary, and had several in his employ. They could come in handy at times and if Henry could help now then he’d be eternally grateful.

Mac was back in minutes, a wrinkled map in his hands which he placed face up on the table. There were large red ink circles around three areas and Quinn assumed a local member of staff had marked the addresses on it, well, he damn well hoped that was the case. Mac stepped back and Henry started to mumble words that made no sense to him, or probably anyone else in the room. A language that was alien to anyone other than another magic maker, his lips working faster as he carried on, his hands hovering over the map, and his eyes flitting across from one point to another and back again.

Quinn watched intently, hoping against hope that Henry would finish and tell them that he’d found something. Anything that would give them a lead on where Amaya was being held. Even if it were just the general area would be a step nearer and give them more than they knew now. Quinn leaned forward, his eyes leaping from the map to Henry and back again, desperate for a sign that the Witch had found a sign of his Bloodmate’s whereabouts. His heart began to beat wildly in his chest as the seconds dragged on, on and on, and still Henry muttered words that made no fucking sense, and his eyes swam over the goddamn map.

Fucking hell, how long was this going to take? It had been long minutes since he’d started and he still didn’t seem to be any nearer to finding anything. Henry’s concentration was absolute. His words so low that everyone had to concentrate to hear them, even though none of them understood a word he uttered, but Quinn hung on every syllable like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. Shit, he was about to grab the man and shake him when Henry finally exhaled, his hands dropping to the table, his head falling forward and he cursed.

“Shit!” Henry shook his head. “I’m afraid that didn’t work and it’s not because he’s not at any of those locations.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Quinn stepped forward, anger rolling off him in great waves. This was all they got after that damn performance?

“I’ve no idea if he’s at any of those places because it appears he’s been warded by magic. I was searching for Zorin in particular, hoping it would be easier to find him, but apparently, he’s taken precautions not to be found. He’s completely hidden so he could be anywhere and I won’t be able to find him and that took a hell of a lot out of me. I was expecting that spell to take me a minute or two and it didn’t. I’m sorry but I’ll need some time to recuperate before I perform another.”

His words hit Quinn like physical blows. He felt them as if he were being attacked by multiple assailants, his body jerking back until he slammed against the wall. “What!” he yelled, his voice booming around the room as it tore from him like a crack of thunder. “You can’t be serious. You’re supposed to be capable, a powerful Witch and you’re telling us that you need time to recover. When Amaya is out there in the hands of a madman and we have no idea what he’s subjecting her to? What the hell is going on here? Am I supposed to just sit around and do nothing while you rest?”

Quinn couldn’t contain his fury. It burned brightly inside him and he knew his eyes would be fiery red and his fangs were pressing on his gums, desperate to break free and sink into something . . . anything as his wrath grew to bounds he couldn’t control. His body thrummed with energy, his skin was on fire, and the agony he felt at being kept from his Bloodmate grew worse with each passing second. How could he just sit on his ass and do nothing while this Witch rested?

Jana rushed toward him, her hands grasping his shoulders in a vice. “Quinn, calm down and get control. Now! You have to regain control . . . or I’ll be forced to restrain you.”

“He is on the verge, Jana.” Delia’s accented voice filtered through. “We knew this would happen but it appears it is progressing faster than we anticipated.”

“Fuck.” Thorne rushed to his side, his face a mask of worry and concern. “Q, listen to me, concentrate on me and only me. You need to think of Amaya, focus on her, her face, her scent, look inside and remember what she looks like . . . remember, Q, and come back.”

Her face appeared before him . . . surrounded in a cloud of smoke, her ebony hair floating around her head as if an invisible wind were blowing around her and lifting it away from her and making it hover in the air on its soft gusts. Her dark eyes glinted with silver, imploring him to find her, save her, reach her in time and he could not fail her. Her plump lips opened and he saw them creating a word . . . his name falling from them. He knew it was his name, was certain it was as her lips tugged up at the sides, her head tilting to the side as she started to fade like an ethereal angel.

“No, don’t go,” he whispered, reaching out and grasping nothing but thin air.

“It’s okay, Q, you’re all right, just relax.” Thorne held onto him as he collapsed into his friend’s arms.