As dawn broke over the New York skyline, Victor and Flint sat across from one another, his friend looking as shell shocked as he felt.

Flint shook his head for about the hundredth time, running a hand through his black hair. He’d done it so often that it stuck up all over, making him look like a scarecrow and nothing like his usual suave self. “They’re a myth . . . aren’t they?”

“Apparently not,” Victor answered. “Not according to Nellie, and she appears to know a hell of a lot more than we do. She’s not just my housekeeper, Flint, you know that.”

His friend shuffled, trying to get comfortable, digging out several of his blades from his clothes and placing them on the coffee table before relaxing back into the sofa again. “Yeah, of course I know that, but still. A Vampire’s Bloodmate is something that we’ve only ever heard tall tales about. Yet, she’s telling us that the scent you went all psycho about earlier is exactly that, and that you acting crazy the last few days was the beginning of this Thirst thing. It just sounds so, well, not to put too fine a point on it . . . nuts.”

Victor agreed. Totally. But then again, he’d been acting completely out of character and out of control, and he never lost control. Then there was his reaction to the honey and wildflower aroma. That had been indeed . . . nuts.

It had also been real. Extremely, utterly, viscerally real. He couldn’t deny what had happened. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d tried. If Flint, or anyone else, had attempted to stop him he would’ve ripped their hearts out. If someone had held a gun with a silver bullet to his head . . . he still would’ve leapt off the building. He had no answer for his body’s reaction. His mind’s reaction. His heart’s reaction . . . it simply was.

“I agree on that but I can’t dispute what’s been happening inside me, or my reaction earlier.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I have no answer, my friend. Only questions. Why have I fed on human blood after so long? Why did my control suddenly dissolve like snow in the summer sun? Why did I throw myself off this building with a mere sniff of honey and wildflowers? I don’t know, Flint. Does what Nellie say make sense? Again, I can’t say. But if there’s a sliver of a chance that she’s right, I have to try and find her. If not only for the opportunity to save others from me and this damn urge to feed. I’m a dangerous bastard like this, you know it as much as I do.”

A scowl masked Flint’s face, his eyes flitting away as the truth sank in. As one of the oldest Vampires in existence it would take someone equally as powerful to take him down. That meant, if word got out that he was losing control, the Directive would send their people after him and no questions would be asked beforehand. No pleasantries would be exchanged and anyone else standing in the way would suffer the consequences too. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Flint exhaled, loudly. “Where do we start?”

“The park.” Victor smirked. “It was the last place I smelled that delicious aroma so I guess we’ll start there.”

“Okay.” Flint stood. “I’ll use one of your guest rooms and snatch a couple of hours sleep and then we can get started.”

“Fine,” Victor replied. “I’ll be waiting.”

As Flint left to rest, Victor went to change out of his suit and into jeans, boots and a sweater. He was eager to start his search but he knew that his friend and bodyguard required to recharge his batteries. Not eager, he realized . . . desperate. Especially as his throat felt parched, dry, and thoughts of crimson delight dribbling down over his tongue flashed through him so startlingly bright with erotic thoughts right on its heel that his cock thickened and throbbed heavy between his legs. His thoughts a jumble of desire and craving to feed rearing inside him so quickly that it took him completely by surprise.

Slamming his hands on the wall, he fought for domination over the need to rush headlong to the nearest site that supplied donors for his kind. His brain mapping the quickest route and how long it would take him if he raced downstairs to the underground garage . . . no. In the city’s traffic, even this early, it would take far too long. He’d be better going on foot, but that would pose another set of problems. Using his Vampire speed on the streets of New York City would raise far too many eyebrows and that wouldn’t go down well. Fuck!

The roof! He could use the rooftops to get to where he needed to be.

Tearing open the door he ran for the stairs leading upward, he had an elevator, but he couldn’t wait for the damn thing. No, he was faster on his own two feet, so he sped down the hallway, the blur of his speed causing several of his million dollar paintings to shudder precariously on the walls, tugging another door open he raced up the stairs, kicking the door at the top open until he took in a breath of fresh air. His rooftop was large, beautiful, and his swimming pool sat in the middle. He’d planned on skirting it so he could leap onto the next building, then the next and so on, but when he saw the cool blue water sparkling in the sun, a moment of sanity filtered through . . . what the hell was he doing?

He moved toward the pool, his fingers tearing at his clothes, ripping them to shreds and leaving them to fall in tatters on the tiled floor as he kicked off his boots. When he was naked he dived effortlessly into the pool, sinking to the bottom before swimming effortlessly the entire length of the cool water. However, when he reached the other end his cock still throbbed, thick and heavy, his desire not having abated one iota. At least his yearning for blood had cooled . . . a little.

With the heavy throbbing in his groin, he did something he hadn’t in a very long time . . . he reached down and fisted his cock in his hand to relieve himself. Hoping against hope that it would halt his fall toward the road to insanity . . . and the craving rushing up inside him to feed on live donors. If he could hold out, just a little while longer, maybe he could find the elusive Bloodmate and he would be able to regain control of his desire and more importantly, his bloodlust.

If not then he was well and truly fucked.

His head fell back, a snarl escaping as his hand tightened around himself, forcing his hips forward with thoughts of honey and wildflowers surging through him as he worked his hand up and down his steely length. The water flowed around him, moistening his cock, warming it as his imagination floated away, allowing him to think of soft, plump lips wrapping around it to suck it deep inside as long dark hair floated out around his hips while his hand held her head, urging her to take him deeper, deeper. He saw her clearly, her eyes closed against the water, angling her head back in order to take him all the way in . . . deep throating him, his cock sliding all the way inside her glorious warmth and over the back of her throat, a brief thought of allowing her up to take a breath soon slid away as her hand cupped his balls . . . shit!

“That’s it, baby, damn it, I’m so near . . . who are you? I need to know who you are,” he pleaded, his voice strangled with desire and longing and sounding nothing like his . . . it was far away, breathless and strange.

Her eyes rose, seeking his, a green so unique and gorgeous it took his breath away. Victor’s hand tightened in her hair, pulling her up and out of the water, desperate to know who she was. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” she gasped back, her tongue darting out to pass over lips that were sumptuous, plump and ready for his to cover with his own. “Where am I? Is this real?”

He ran a finger over her lips, down her throat and lower to cup her breast but she had other ideas, her hand falling between his legs as she gazed up at him between long dark lashes. “You interrupted me . . .”

And she dropped back down into the water, her mouth once again taking him inside and he was lost in the heavenly desire that coursed through him. All thought of discovering her name fleeing from his mind as she brought him to heights he’d never thought possible.

Victor’s groans filled the air as her teeth ran along his cock, teasing him mercilessly, he was near, so damn near, and when she sucked him so hard, her nails trailing down his thighs, his balls tightened so far up they almost disappeared inside him as he came so fucking hard his heart stopped. Stopped dead in his chest . . . what the goddamn hell? Victor’s breathing was ragged, his heart taking long seconds to beat normally again as he spurted over and over into the water with the most mind-blowing orgasm he’d had in his life. His eyes springing open to look down, certain he’d find a woman in the water giving him the best blow-job he’d ever experienced . . . but of course, there was no woman and he was alone with his cock in his hand and his mind playing the most extreme tricks on him. Again he thought . . . what the goddamn hell?

He spun around, water sloshing around as he searched the area, so sure there had been someone there with him. He’d felt her lips on him, saw her hair float around in the water . . . long, dark, thick locks spreading out around her head as she’d sucked him deep inside her mouth. His eyes traversed the entire rooftop, sending out every one of his enhanced senses in case she was hiding somewhere on the sprawling area. But no, there was nobody else there, he was alone and naked, still feeling the aftershocks of the orgasm as his legs shook beneath him and his penis grew soft.

“I’m losing my mind,” he muttered aloud, pulling himself out of the pool, padding to the cabana where he wrapped a towel around his hips before searching the area again.

His senses still on alert, his incident in the pool like an out-of-body experience and he wasn’t at all certain there wasn’t someone hiding, possibly using magic to keep them from his view. He scoured every inch of the area, moving tables, chairs, the bar, and even the wooden gazebo, hauling it away from the wall and making sure there wasn’t someone who had slid in between the space behind and the tall stone wall. But no, there was no sign of anyone, and he’d spent so much time looking that he was still there when Flint came looking for him.

“What the hell’s going on?” he’d asked, his eyes taking in the torn clothes littering the floor before looking him up and down with just a towel around his hips.

“Nothing. I wanted a swim.” Victor shoved the gazebo back into place with a final thud. “I’ll be ready in five.”

“Fine,” Flint looked around, confused. “Did you lose something?”

“No.” Victor didn’t explain further, pushing past and disappearing downstairs. Hell, what could he say? That he had visions of a woman giving him a blow-job? That he thought someone was hiding on the roof?

Yes, that would go down great with his head of security and best friend. Like a lead balloon and enough for Flint to lock him up tight so Clarence Collins didn’t get his hands on him first. Not happening. Not until he found the owner of honey and wildflowers and he held her in his arms and . . . what?

He had no idea what happened after that. All he knew was he had to find her, and soon. For whatever reason, he knew he had to reach her soon.

“I’m coming,” he whispered as he threw clothes on, staring out his window overlooking Central Park, so certain she was near . . . there.