Quinn admired Thorne’s endurance. He remained silent for more than an hour as the jet winged its way toward Asia, only a few heavy breathing snorts giving away his obvious disquiet until finally he leaned over the table separating them, leaning on his forearms and ground out, “Well?”

Quinn looked up from his laptop screen where he’d been fruitlessly trying to find a solution to his earlier bout of sickness. “Well what?”

Thorne sat back against the dark red leather, exhaling exasperatedly. “Don’t well what me, Q. What’s going on? We’ve been together for . . . shit, I’ve lost count of how long it’s been, but it’s a fucking long time and I’ve never seen you act like this. Something’s wrong and I’m worried.”

“I know you are.” Quinn closed the top with a slam that had the machine groaning in protest and alerting him that he’d probably require a replacement. The sound of the screen cracking whipping through the cabin like a gunshot, Thorne’s eyes flicked to it momentarily before another sigh escaped.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. You’re on edge and losing your temper for no reason and I’m not at all happy that you’re headed for a damn event that’s going to be full of eyes on you and filled with humans. Their blood is gonna play havoc with you in this state, Q. Freaking havoc! And there’s media from all over the world there. Do you wanna lose it in front of the cameras?”

Anger surged up inside him. An emotion that rarely reared its head because Quinn kept a steely control over everything and anger was a waste of time, but this time he seemed to not have any say in the matter. It appeared unbidden as he snapped, “Of course not! I’m no fool and you should be aware of that, Thorne!”

Thorne sat taller in his seat, his eyes scrutinizing him, obvious surprise at his outburst showing in every molecule of his body. He remained silent for long seconds, the only sound the roaring of the jet’s engines as they flew through the clouds and Quinn regretted his outburst but he couldn’t seem to regain control of the emotion as it ran through him still. It gained traction, anger rolling around and turning into white hot fury, his teeth grinding together . . . his eyes closing as hunger hit him like a gale force wind and taking his breath away.

Fuck! His fangs ached painfully in his mouth, desperate to break free, his hands clamped to the sides of the plush seat, his nails already growing into claws as he fought to control himself . . . and failed! He, Quinn Alexander, fucking failed to control the dark beast inside him as it broke free . . . fangs tearing through his gums so quickly he tasted his own blood filling his mouth, heard the sound of leather tearing as his fingernails ripped the arms of the chair beneath him.

“Fuck! Q, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to help?”

Thorne’s voice made it through and the only word Quinn could muster was, “Blood!”

“Okay.” He could hear his friend rush from his seat. He didn’t open his eyes, knowing they’d be blood red and showing his complete loss of control . . . he refused to let anyone see that. Even Thorne, even himself.

Thorne was back in seconds, thrusting a plastic bag into his hand. “Here, take this.”

Before he raised it, he snarled, “More, I’ll need more.” Then he snatched it to his mouth and sank his fangs through the plastic and gulped down the red liquid as if he hadn’t fed in a month.

It was gone in seconds, but luckily his friend was already there handing him another, and another, and another . . . and he ravaged them all, drinking them dry. Only then did he open his eyes, he was back in control, his claws retracting into his fingers and his fangs inside his gums. His friend gazing down at him, his face filled with distress and worry.

“Q, what the fuck is going on?”

Quinn took a deep breath in, looking at the discarded bags on the floor and shook his head, his own concern rising as he reluctantly admitted, “I’ve no idea, my friend. None at all, but we need to find out before I do something that lands me in a Directive cell, or worse . . . on their kill list.”

He was relieved they were alone in the area set apart from the main cabin. At least his security detail hadn’t witnessed his lapse of restraint. That would not have gone down well. Either with them, and most definitely not with him. Quinn couldn’t comprehend what was happening inside him, or why he’d suddenly lost the steely control he maintained always. All times. Never did he allow that to slip. Not for a second, even in private. Yet it had happened twice within less than a day. A feeling he’d long since forgotten slithered inside him, worming around his belly like a snake, causing him to shudder involuntarily . . . fear. That was a far distant sensation and one he’d rather not encounter again but he had a feeling that it was going to be a close friend until he got to the bottom of what ailed him.

“We’ll figure it out, Q, we always do. Now, tell me everything. How you’re feeling and when this started?” Thorne pressed him. “And no bullshit, because this sure as hell isn’t the time to hold back. I’ve a feeling that this is a matter of life or death, and I don’t mean mine.”

Quinn tipped his head, aware that he was right, of course he was. “Okay, I’ll be candid, but there’s not much to tell you. It started yesterday and overcame me quickly. I felt a thirst that my usual feeding wouldn’t sate, and I craved other qualities that I could only acquire at the type of club we ended up in. That’s it. There’s nothing else to add . . . oh, wait, I was ill this morning, after you left me. I vomited in the bathroom. I’ve never been sick like that since I was turned and I have no explanation. I’ve no clue what’s happening and I have a feeling that this is only just starting, Thorne. Don’t ask how I know that . . . I just do.”

“Fuck!” Thorne started to pace back and forth, his hand running through his hair repeatedly. “Right, you’re obviously prone to attacks of feeling you have to feed so we have to keep you a supply handy. I’ll do that. We won’t leave you without donor blood being nearby. That way you won’t go off the reservation and attack someone, hopefully. And when we land I’ll make some discreet enquiries about a Healer . . . shut up! I’m talking! I’ll say it’s for me. I’ll make out it’s me that’s suffering from a mysterious illness and we can take it from there.”

“Everything is acceptable apart from the Healer.” Quinn shook his head firmly. “We’re only going to this disgusting event. I’m going to appear for the shortest time I can and then escape, and we’ll head home. Once we’re back in Scotland, if I’m not feeling more like myself, then we’ll do something, and not before. That’s an order, Thorne.”

“For fuck’s sake, Q, this is your life we’re talking about!” Thorne spun toward him, his eyes blazing with fury, his arms wide apart, hands clenched into fists. “I’m not allowing you to do this!”

“You have no say in the matter. It’s decided,” Quinn snarled back, the anger he’d felt earlier reigniting and rearing up once again. “This conversation is over. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired and I’m going to take a nap.”

He rose and strode out of the room toward his private bedroom, closed the door and deliberately engaged the lock . . . something he never did. The sound of it clicking into place echoed loudly, sending a clear message to Thorne, his friend and the one person Quinn could depend on . . . but he sure as hell wasn’t having a Healer he didn’t know attending to him in a foreign land. That was not happening. Hell, for all he knew they could be unscrupulous and untrustworthy, and have word of his illness spread all over the damn world before he could blink. No. That was not a risk he was willing to take, even if it was putting his very life on the line.