Hunter paces the sidewalk with the phone to his ear, “It is imperative that I speak with Samuel immediately.”

His jaw pops with tension as his wild eyes scan the area for an answer. The streets are bustling to life with the night crew. The smell of fresh blood fills the air, tantalizing his senses. Hunter is doing all he can to maintain control. One moment he wants to drain everyone he sees, the next he wants to fuck them.

A woman with long blonde hair walks by him donning an alluring smile.

“Hunter? Are you still there?” the voice on the other end of the phone calls out.

“Yeah,” Hunter answers distracted, “I gotta go.”

He turns and follows the woman down the street.

“Hunter!” Camille scolds, but it doesn’t stop him.

The blonde woman turns around with bedroom eyes, “Hey there.”

Hunter smiles and leans down closer, taking in her scent. Before he can speak, a sour expression crosses his features. He’s disgusted by her scent and can’t hide his repulsion.

The woman’s face screws up with anger, “Creep, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and walks back toward Camille.

“What are you doing?” she questions, taking hold of his hand. “Do I need to put a leash on you?”

“She wasn’t the one,” Hunter says absently.

“Well no shit,” Camille snaps. “You need to control yourself.”

Camille turns to Henry, “I think we need to get him off the streets.”

“I think you’re right.” Henry sees Hunter watching another woman. “Hunter, let’s go. I know a safe place.”

“I have a home here, it’s not far.” Hunter starts down the sidewalk but is distracted by another woman. His erection just won’t quit.

“Hunter!” Camille scolds again, feeling his tension.

Hunter raises his hand to Camille’s cheek, “I just need a release.”

Camille swats his hand from her face, “Stop it.”

“I think we should get an Uber,” Henry says, rolling his eyes.

“It’s just a block away,” Hunter explains, continuing forward. “I’ll control it.”

They reach a modest house, Hunter trots up the front porch and punches a code into the security panel.

“Come in.” Hunter gestures through the door. The air is stale from sitting closed for so long.

“How long has it been since you were here last?” Henry looks around the small living room.

“I’m not really sure. I don’t spend a lot of time away from my work,” Hunter explains.

Camille lifts a jacket off the coat rack, “Not since white suit jackets with rolled up sleeves were in style.”

“Don’t judge me, you know how hard it is to change with the styles for so many years,” Hunter says with a laugh. “It’s probably been since the eighties. But I have a crew that comes in once a month to check on the place, dust. It was completely restored after Katrina, I honestly don’t know how the jacket survived.”

Camille moves to the windows and throws them open. The sheer white drapes blow in with the breeze.

Henry turns to Hunter, “Tell me more about Alfrigg, maybe some of my contacts will be able to find him.”

“No. No Directive. I need to find her before Augustus does,” Hunter insists.

He perks up and stills.

“What is it?” Alarm crosses Camille’s features. Hunter’s become so unpredictable, she doesn’t know if she’s ready for his next move.

“It’s her,” he whispers before darting out the door and onto the street.

Hunter looks around frantically and files between the few people walking on the street.

The scent is coming from a large man walking down the street. His being fills with desire and rage. Using his vampire speed, he grabs the man and drags him into the house. “Where is she?” he bellows at the man he threw to the floor.

Hunter’s breathing is labored, his fangs fully extended and the veins pumping visibly in his forehead.

“Hunter!” Camille screams, running to him.

The man on the floor shifts into a large white wolf. He’s taking a defensive stance, bearing his teeth, snarling.

Camille takes the place at Hunter’s side, ready to fight with him. “What’s going on?”

Hunter’s lip curls upward in a snarl, “He’s been with her.”

“Who is he?” she asks, never taking her eyes off the menacing wolf.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Henry stands between them, holding his hands up, “Everyone calm down.”

“Get out of the way, Henry,” Hunter warns.

“This is Samuel.” Henry pins Hunter with a glare, “He’s been protecting her.”

Realization softens his stance slightly, “Samuel?”

Henry nods slowly, “Yes, he’s okay.”

Henry turns to Samuel, “It’s okay,”

Samuel shifts back to human form. “It isn’t okay to grab someone off the street.” He stalks closer to Hunter.

“Hold up,” Henry says, trying to keep the peace. “He’s not in his right mind, we have to find Rook.”

“Rook?” Samuel eyes Henry suspiciously, “What do you want with her?”

“I’m Henry Grimes.” Henry digs his wallet out of his pocket, “I’m with The Directive.”

“There are lots of people with The Directive,” Samuel glances at Henry’s credentials.

“We don’t want to hurt her, we just need to find her,” Henry says, widening his eyes.

“Who are you?” Samuel motions to Hunter.

It’s taking every last ounce of control in Hunter not to slam the wolf against the wall and demand Rook’s whereabouts. “I’m Hunter Webb.”

“Why do you need to find her?” Samuel asks, still suspicious.

Hunter doubles over in pain, letting out a howl.

Samuel takes a step back, “What’s wrong with him?”

Camille puts her hands-on Hunter’s back, “Do you need to feed again?”

Hunter tries to stand up, revealing his eyes going black. “I need Rook.”

“If you think I’m going to let you feed on her, you’ve got another thing coming.” Samuel shakes his head, “You can die for all I give a shit.”

“Samuel, perhaps you need to put in a call to the home office, speak with Clarence. He’ll vouch for my credentials,” Henry explains. “But please be quick about it.”

“I don’t give a fuck if Clarence Collins was standing in this room, until I know you aren’t going to hurt her I’m not telling you where she is,” Samuel says, looking around and digging through the scraps of his clothes littering the floor.

Henry moves closer to Samuel, “Are you familiar with the Thirst?”

Samuel looks at him like he’s crazy, “Bloodthirsty vamps? I’m familiar.”

“No, I mean...bloodmates,” Henry says, cringing with fear that he’s saying too much.

“No, I have no idea what that is.” Samuel finds the remnants of his pocket and pulls his cell phone out.

“Talk to Jana or Clarence, they’ll explain all you need to know.” Henry urges him to make the call.

“I don’t care what this is, I’m not letting anyone use Rook to cure this vamp’s ailment.” Samuel motions to Hunter.

“I don’t want to use her,” Hunter sputters out.

Camille gives Hunter the last of the blood from the bag she picked up at the local blood bank.

Henry shakes his head, “It’s not just his ‘ailment.’ It’s going to be hers, too, and I’m not sure how much longer before it starts affecting her. He’s already had a taste of her blood, it was enough to bond them.”

A realization strikes Samuel, “Shit.”

“What is it?” Henry probes.

“Rook, she’s sick.” Samuel is working it out in his head, “It all makes sense now.”

“There is no precedent for this, but it does makes sense,” Henry explains. “Because the bond is partly formed, it would affect her.” Henry runs his fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath. “We have to get to her, they have to finish the blood ritual, or she could die.”

Hunter pushes aside his pride and says in a weak voice, “Please, I have to be with her.”

“I can’t exactly leave like this.” Samuel waves his hands at his naked body.

Camille looks him up and down, “Lucky for you a big ass Viking lives here. I think we can find you something to wear.”

Camille watches Hunter for a moment with worried eyes, “Are you going to be okay? I need to find him some clothes.”

Hunter nods and grunts, “Yeah.”

“Hurry, if she’s already sick we don’t have much time. She’s human and can’t withstand what’s happening,” Henry warns.

Samuel nods and follows Camille down the hallway.

Camille comes out of the bedroom with her hand over her mouth snickering, “He’ll be right out.”

“What happened back there?” Henry asks, amused by her laughter.

“You’ll see.” She struggles to hold back the laugh.

Samuel stalks down the hallway, not amused, “Seriously?”

Hunter’s sitting on the love seat hanging his head. He glances up, his eyes are dark and sunken in. A flash of delight crosses his features, he can’t contain the chuckle, “I haven’t been here in a long time.”

“Apparently,” Samuel says with tight lips, looking down at his white parachute pants and neon pink Polo shirt.

Hunter smiles, shaking his head, “That’s all they could save after the storm?”

“The acid washed jeans were too small.” Samuel heads for the door, “We’re stopping by my house, so I can change.” He adjusts his man-junk.

“Suck it up, we have to get to the rook,” Henry says, following behind.

“He’ll survive twenty extra minutes,” Samuel’s voice gravels out.

“But will Rook?” Hunter asks, defeated. “She’s mortal, I can hardly bear this pain.”

Samuel gives it second of thought, “God dammit, let’s go.” He tries to slide his cellphone into his front pocket, but it’s too tight. He manages to get it into one of the pockets on the leg.