“What’s the rush?” Talon huffed out as they rounded another corner in the maze of the hallways. “Next left by the way.”

“No, we’re not going to the armory. Not yet.” Flint ground to a halt, his hand reaching for the wall to steady himself. He was losing control, fast. “I need blood. Where’s the nearest supply?”

“Again? So soon?” Talon stepped in front of him, his eyes roaming up and down him nervously. “Are you okay? You’ve found your Bloodmate, Flint. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, but shouldn’t you be fine now?”

Flint could barely focus on the words spilling from Talon’s mouth, his head pounding so hard that he felt like a fucking army was inside it hammering against his skull trying to break out . . . and he was sure they were going to succeed and leave a damn fine mess. He could see Quinn’s nose turning up when he found his brains splattered across the floor and walls, shit, he’d probably send Victor a bill for the clean-up.

“Blood. Now,” he snarled, his hands rising to grab his head, hoping he’d manage to stop it from exploding in a bloody mess.

“Sure.” Talon’s huge paw of a hand reached out, clutching his elbow and leading him away.

Flint lost all sense of direction, his eyes clenched tightly as his feet slid over the floor, catching on several of the thick rugs that lay over the ancient stone floors. If it weren’t for the strength of the Wolf at his side he would’ve ended up on his face more than once, but Talon now had one arm around his waist as well as a firm hand on his elbow. He decided, right then and there, that when this was over he was going to send a case of Glenmorangie’s finest to the man for all his help.

“How much farther?” Flint mumbled, his voice sounding garbled to his ears. His tongue thick in his mouth as his thirst grew with every passing second. He felt as if he was losing himself . . . as if he were no longer the man he knew himself to be, but a shadow of his former self. His self-control all but gone and his sanity was going with it. If he didn’t reach the store of blood soon he feared what he’d do. Feared that he’d lose himself to the madness that the Vampire’s Thirst could wreak upon him . . . and he was near that precipice. He stood on the edge of sanity. He could feel the threads of himself unravelling, piece by piece slowly separating and soon he’d erupt with a bloodlust that nobody would be able to contain.

“Flint? Fuck! Here, let me help you.”

The shocked voice filtered through a second before soft but firm hands reached around his other side, propping him up. But no, it couldn’t be . . . he must have truly lost it. She couldn’t be here. But he could still hear her. Her voice whispering in his ear.

“Damn it, Flint. You should’ve called me earlier. I would’ve come. You know I would have.” She paused before snapping, “Who’re you and where are you taking him?”

“I’m Talon and he needs blood. The store is just at the end of this corridor.”

“Fine, come on, before he loses it completely.” Her voice firm and in control. “You two can go. I’ve got this.”

Were there others here? Flint wondered.

“We can’t, Miss. We have to take you to Mister Alexander, immediately.”

“You’ll do best to remember who the fuck you’re dealing with,” she snarled back. “Leave me be and if you tell a soul where I am, I’ll lock you up in a Directive jail and throw the key away. Now go, before I lose my temper. Talon here will take me to see him when I’ve sorted out my friend and not a moment before.”

There she was! The woman he knew. The one that nobody dared to defy. Not if they wanted to stay in one piece that was.

“Come on. It’s in here.” Talon kicked open a door and finally he could smell the heady aroma of a plethora of plasma.

So many that he could barely distinguish them apart, but he wasn’t in a position to choose. Any would do. “Hurry!” he growled, grabbing onto the wall as Talon shot forward to retrieve several bags from a huge walk-in fridge.

Flint didn’t waste any time, snatching them from the Wolf and sinking his fangs greedily into one, two, three and then a fourth bag . . . drinking them down so fast that he barely tasted them. “One more.” He held his hand out and Talon slapped one into his open palm.

“Jeez,” her voice snarked. “That’s a lot of blood, Flint.”

His eyes sought her over the bag, finishing it off he threw it on the counter, shook his head in wonder and took in the tall lithe figure, her blonde hair tied back and dark blue eyes staring hard at him. Plump lips tugging up at the sides and her arms crossed, he noticed she was dressed for combat and she’d never looked deadlier.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jana?” he asked.

“Jana?” Talon’s head spun toward her. “Not the Jana, as in Jana Noskova from the Directive? Oh shit, we’re in trouble . . . aren’t we?”

Jana side eyed Talon, smirking. “I’m not exactly here on official business, so you can relax.” She turned back to Flint, scowling at him. “But you can’t. Why didn’t you call me? You were in trouble, deep shit from what I can gather, yet you didn’t lift the phone. Why?”

Flint leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms to mirror her and shrugged. “You’re the damn Directive, Jana. I’m not exactly gonna call them when I’m in any kind of bind, now am I? Especially when I’m in a foreign country with a band of fucking criminals up my ass. Let’s get something straight. This is my Bloodmate we’re talking about and I’ve no intention of playing by the rules here. When those fuckers come for her . . . I’m taking them out. Plain and fucking simple. Oh, and tell me, how the hell was I supposed to know you were even in Scotland, far less close enough to help me?”

Jana’s entire body tensed, her muscles bunching and her left eye ticked as she glared at him. She remained silent for long seconds and Talon took several steps back as if he expected them to go at it at any second. Flint tried not to smile at that, but he couldn’t help a glance at Talon and a quick raise of his eyebrow and a look that said, what the fuck?

“Yeah, I’m the Directive. That’s true, but you’ve known me long enough to know that I’ll always help a friend in need . . . off the fucking record. You and me . . . we’re friends, Flint. You’ve helped me in the past and I owe you. I’ll never walk away if you’re in trouble and you know that. You should’ve called. You dumb shit. If you’d called and I wasn’t here then I could’ve gotten you other help. I have contacts. As it is, I was in Glasgow on a mission when I heard you were in a bit of a situation. So, I got on my bike and headed right here. I’m staying until this is over. So, shut the fuck up and let’s get you kitted up and then you can introduce me to Quinn Alexander. I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure, but I hear he’s quite the charmer.”

Talon groaned and Flint could feel his unease as it flowed from him, filling the small room with the odor of the shifter’s anxiety. He didn’t blame him. Introducing someone like Jana was always an interesting experience, but add in the fact she was one of the Directive’s top people, Magno Zara’s Second in Command no less, then shit, he didn’t expect the introduction to go smoothly at all. He’d already brought enough trouble to Quinn’s door and now he had the Directive inside. Fuck. This wasn’t going to go down well. Not well at all.

A thought struck him as they left the room, Talon leading the way. “Weren’t you on your way to see Quinn? How did you end up here?”

“I’m a Wolf . . . I scented you and you were in distress so I came after you. Those two goons I was with tried to stop me but, hey, they didn’t have much say in the matter.” She laughed, the sound was cold as she looked over at him. “I reminded them who I was and that I’d have them locked up if they stood in my way but I was ready to remove them physically if the need arose.”

“Jana, you’re a tough woman.” Flint winked at her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to tell you something, just between us,” she said quietly, turning to glare at Talon. “You don’t say a word to anyone, got that?”

Talon shook his head, obviously terrified as Flint cocked his head to the side, asking. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve had a couple of other reports about Bloodmates and it’s got everyone in a bit of a tizzy. What with them being so rare and everything, and all of a sudden there’s been a surge of them being found . . . well, not a surge exactly, but a few, and that’s got a couple people in the Directive a little nervous. The repercussions could be, let’s just say . . . wide reaching and catastrophic if the word got out about this and into the wrong hands. Magno is going to set up a top-secret division to oversee things to ensure the safety of any Bloodmates, and the Vampires concerned, but that task is going to be damn near impossible. I just thought you’d like to know about it in case you hear of any other cases.”

“Shit, that sounds serious.” Flint thought of the ramifications of someone hunting down a Bloodmate before a Vampire reached them . . . it would be devastating and, as Jana said, catastrophic.

“Indeed, but enough of business, tell me about your woman. What’s she like?”

And so he did. He told her all about what had happened and everything he knew about Kenzie, although it wasn’t as much as he would’ve liked. When he explained that his Bloodmate was injured, Jana hissed, her eyes flashing with anger, her beast rearing and her skin rippled as if her Wolf fought to be free to seek revenge. He knew the feeling . . . he felt the same. He couldn’t wait to sink his blades into the flesh of those that had harmed his beautiful mate and cause them pain, so much pain that they screamed and writhed with agony beneath his vengeful hands.