“Not really,” Quinn admitted.
“Here.” Thorne tossed him a bundle of clothes. “You can’t go around in that tux for the rest of this, Q, I got you something more suited to what’s coming our way.”
He caught them, noting it was a set similar to what Thorne was dressed in. “Thanks.” He quickly changed, transferring his cell and personal items before sitting back down and running a hand through his hair. “Thorne, you’re going to think I’ve gone insane but I’ve just had the strangest dream. Amaya came to me in it and gave me some information and I think it could help us.”
Thorne looked at him exactly as he expected, hell, he probably would’ve done the same in his shoes. As if he’d lost his mind, but he didn’t say anything. Not exactly. His friend simply grunted as Quinn rose and strode to the door asking, “Where is everyone?”
“Still in the room trying to figure out where Amaya is,” Thorne followed him. “Henry should be ready soon to try another spell.”
Quinn headed straight there, eager to get this over with, and hoping against hope the information he had was indeed helpful. He wasn’t going mad, not yet anyway, and he did somehow speak with Amaya. How that happened he had no idea, but it happened. He was certain of it. He’d held her, touched her, kissed her, and he sure as hell felt her beneath his touch. That was real dammit! He’d not imagined it. He wasn’t that far gone . . . yet.
When he entered the room, all eyes were on him. Judging and examining him for any signs of madness. He didn’t blame them. Not really. But he didn’t like their scrutiny either. Straightening his shoulders, he looked at Henry who sat in the corner, eyes closed. “Henry, can I ask you something?”
He hoped the Witch would be more open to what had transpired than the others would and thought it best to start with him. Henry jerked, his eyes blinking several times before focusing on him. “Of course, what is it?”
“Is it possible for Bloodmates to form some kind of psychic bond? To connect with each other whilst asleep? Has that ever happened?” Quinn laid it out there, hearing sharp intakes of breath from Jana and a huff from Mac. Shit. They probably thought he was talking nonsense and were ready to snap silver handcuffs on him and take him to the nearest cell.
Henry’s head tilted, a finger rising to tap his chin as he looked thoughtful for a moment or two before he responded, “That is indeed possible, Quinn. In fact, I’m sure I’ve heard of such things. Why do you ask? Has something happened?”
“Yes.” Quinn went closer to Henry, nodding. “When I was asleep Amaya came to me. She and I connected. I held her in my arms as we spoke. She told me several things that may help us. She said that they crossed train tracks near where she is being held, that she heard many large vehicles nearby, which as she pointed out would be normal. But, she also said she scented a large amount of lobsters. Many, many lobsters both on her approach to where she is and she says she can still smell them now. She was very specific, not fish, but lobsters. I’m not sure if that can help us, but I hope it can.”
“It’s all we’ve got.” Jana patted his shoulder. “You look a little better. I’m glad, Quinn, I didn’t relish the thought of locking you up.”
She quirked her eyebrow and gave him a smirk as she turned away to bark at Ace, “Right, get those fingers working. Let’s find out where the biggest imports of damn lobsters are and then let’s see if there’s any rail links nearby. Or if not railways, per se, if they use anything that could be perceived as railway lines onsite. Anything, guys, come on. We’ve got something to go on now. Let’s use it while Henry collects himself and then maybe, just maybe, we can get going and actually do something instead of sitting twiddling our damn thumbs.”
Delia came over, standing very close to him and scrutinizing him for several moments before commenting, “You look better but we will be keeping a close eye on you. I apologize if this upsets you, but we have to be careful in these situations. Being separated from your Bloodmate like this can lead to severe reactions and I am sure you can appreciate we have to ensure the safety of everyone, Signore.”
Quinn noted her tone wasn’t as brusque as it had been previously, and he did indeed appreciate that. But he didn’t like to be under the continued scrutiny of anyone in The Directive’s employ. Especially when it could end in his demise, or worse, his being in one of their cells. He tipped his head, acknowledging her. “Sì, Signora. But I am confident that . . .”
His cell started to ring in his pocket. The sound sudden and loud in the room, startling him and everyone around him. He fumbled for it and snatched it out, a blocked number appearing on his screen. “Blocked,” he snapped before answering. “Quinn Alexander, who is this?”
“Finally,” a heavily accented Russian voice replied. One that sounded angry. “You’re a hard man to track down. I had to pay a hefty sum to get this number.”
“You have it now and I assume you’re the man who has my Bloodmate so let’s dispense with wasting anymore time.” Quinn could barely contain himself. He wanted to rant and rave at this fucker but knew it would get him nowhere. “Give me your terms.”
His head swam, his heart beat so fast he wondered if it would explode inside his chest as he fought to draw a breath as Jana rushed over, motioning agitatedly with her hand. It took him a second to realize she wanted him to put the call on speaker. He hit the button and the Russian’s voice filled the room.
“Straight to the point . . . a businessman just like me.” He chuckled. “Yes, I have her, now you have to pay to get her back. Just what is she worth to you? Is the Thirst eating you up yet? Are you going insane with it already? I think you are almost ready to pay me whatever I want so I’ll get to the point.”
Quinn’s anger grew even more, rising to boiling point as he saw red. Fuck, he wished he could reach through the damn phone and tear his heart out. But he couldn’t, so he inhaled and replied calmly, “I’m waiting and just so we’re clear . . . you and I are nothing alike. I don’t kidnap innocents to extort money. That is not business.”
“Whatever, now down to what you have to pay . . . Ten million of your pounds . . . not US Dollars. You’re British so I want your currency and I want it sent to an offshore account that I’ll text you details of. If you don’t have the money deposited within the hour then I’ll kill her and be gone. You’ll never have your Bloodmate and you’ll either go insane or The Directive will put you down or lock you up. The choice is yours.”
The line went dead. Silence surrounding him and he had only one thought. Find and kill the asshole who thought he could steal Amaya and his money. If this guy thought he could get away with this then he obviously had no idea who he was dealing with. No fucking clue. But Quinn would soon educate him on that and end his miserable life.
“Shit, that’s a lot of money.” Henry got up, going over to Delia and running his hand through his hair, again. “Do you have that kind of money?”
Quinn snorted. “Of course, I do. He’s obviously done his homework and asked for an amount that is easily obtainable and quickly. He knows I have it and can access it fast. Otherwise he wouldn’t have demanded that amount. I’ll set up the payment but I won’t execute it unless I have no other choice.”
His phone pinged with an incoming message, the details of where he was to send the payment right there in his inbox. “A Cayman account.” He shook his head. “We’ll have no chance of tracing it afterward and it won’t stay there for long. He’ll transfer it out as soon as it hits. It’s what I’d do in his shoes. He’ll bounce it around all over the damn globe.”
Ace let out a yell. “Got it! Boss, I’ve got it! There’s a huge lobster importer at one of the locations we had. Well, one of those Russian tips we had. He has a warehouse at the same place and it’s near a small, private airstrip. It’s also near the water, hence the lobsters. They come in on ships and, well, hey presto. I’m sure she’s there. She’s gotta be, Boss.”
Henry clapped his hands. “Okay, I’ll do a quick spell to make sure and then if
it proves she’s being held in that location we can get over there.”
“How long?” Quinn snapped to Henry. “The last time you were going to do a quick spell, it wasn’t so damn quick.”
Henry waved him away, his head shaking. “I know what I’m looking for this time and I assure you it’ll be over and done in no time at all. Relax, Mister Alexander, I assure you I’ll get an answer in just a few minutes.”
Quinn was about to argue further when Thorne interrupted, pulling on his arm. “The longer you two go at it the longer it’ll be before we can get on with this. Let it go, Q. We only have an hour.”
He turned away, knowing he was right but still fuming. His anger wasn’t really aimed at the Witch. It was at the entire situation and being kept apart from Amaya. She should be in his arms right now. They should be alone, getting to know each other, learning every part of one another’s bodies. He wanted to know what made her sigh when he touched her, kissed her, what made her quiver beneath his caresses, and he sure as hell wanted to see her fall apart beneath him as he sank deep inside her.
But what he really wanted, what he desperately craved was to taste her sweet blood. He couldn’t wait to feel it slide over his tongue, let it drip down the back of his throat and feel it all the way inside his very soul. He knew it would be the most amazing experience of his exceedingly long life. It would be something that would take him to the skies and beyond, have his heart soaring so high he wasn’t sure he’d come back to earth for hours afterward, but instead he was here. In a Directive office, surrounded by people who were just waiting on him losing his shit so they could slam a pair of silver shackles on him and lock him up. Or worse, kill him so he’d be no threat to anyone if the Thirst overtook him completely and he went on a killing spree, rampaging through the streets to feed on anything and anyone that had a heartbeat and warm blood pumping through their veins.
He knew all of that and it didn’t help him one iota. Not one fucking bit did it help him as he waited on Henry . . . and then he heard him. “All done. She’s definitely there. So, guys, I suggest we get going as quickly as we can and rescue Amaya. What do you say?”
Quinn had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Henry doing whatever it was he did. But he had and they had their answer. Jana already moving for the door and barking out orders, mainly to Ace, telling him where she wanted his men to be once they arrived. She’d organized more vehicles and some extra help so they were going in on several points, surrounding the building and going in at the same time. It sounded like a solid plan to him and he was, of course, going in first with Jana and the rest of her team. In fact, he planned on getting in ahead of them. He had his own plan to carry out. One that didn’t include any of her team looking over his shoulder.
They left the building quickly, with Ace driving their vehicle and advising the journey time of forty minutes. “Cutting it fine,” he pointed out, worry racing up his spine. Not at losing ten million, but at the thought that Zorin Igoravich would kill Amaya anyway, just because he could. He knew his kind and he wouldn’t put it past him to do such a thing.
“We’ll be fine,” Jana shot back. “Don’t worry.”
Easy for her to say. It wasn’t her future that lay in the balance, or in the hands of a lowlife Russian bastard. Thorne had been working on finding out all he could on the man, as had Mac, and his instincts had been right. He was steeped in the Russian Mafia, with so many deaths on his hands that they must be blood red, his entire operation ran from secret locations that even Jana’s people couldn’t get their hands on them. She’d cursed the man so many times, Quinn was sure the air had turned blue with her words. Zorin was one of The Directive’s most wanted men for his crimes, but so far, they’d failed to capture him and it stuck in her throat that they had allowed him to escape far too many times to count.
The fact she had an opportunity to finally take him down had her so damn excited she was like a kid who’d eaten far too much sugar. Her eyes glittered with a coldness he hoped never to see directed at him and when she spoke of taking him alive so she could make an example of him. Hell, that caused his belly to clench painfully as he thought of what she’d meant by that. All he wanted to do was tear Zorin apart for what he’d done. Taking him alive wasn’t in his plans, but Jana had made it crystal clear that’s what she wanted, and pointedly told everyone to try and keep him away from the man.
Aye, right, as if that was going to happen. If he had the chance he was taking the asshole down and out for good and to hell with The Directive and any plans they had for Zorin Fucking Igoravich, because he wouldn’t be able to rest easy until he was certain that he was no longer a threat to Amaya. Plain and damn simple in his mind. A man like that would not give up, not if they took her from him without payment. That would rile him up and he’d be out for revenge. One that Quinn could not allow to happen. Jana might think she could contain him, hell, maybe she could, but Quinn wasn’t taking the chance that he’d escape. With his connections, and the army he had? No. Zorin had the means to breakout and Quinn couldn’t allow that. His plan was the only way to ensure Amaya’s safety. Kill him and they’d be free of fear and always looking over their shoulders. Simple.
All he had to do was get to him first. Without Jana or her team interfering. Maybe not so simple after all. But he wasn’t one for stepping away from a challenge and he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow Zorin the opportunity to walk away tonight. He’d be ash soon enough, floating in the air and never to be seen again . . . that was the only outcome that Quinn could live with.
“Q? What’s up?” Thorne prodded him.
“Nothing, why?” He shrugged, trying to hide the thoughts that had been coursing through him. He couldn’t allow Jana, or anyone to know the course he was set upon.
“Nothing, huh?” Thorne smirked, leaning in and tapped his own lips, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Fangs are out and your eyes are fiery. Angry thoughts or are you hungry again?”
Quinn had to make a quick recovery, reaching for the backpack that Thorne still carried. “Give me something to keep me going.”
He snatched the pack that his friend handed him, tearing into it and draining it dry in seconds. “There, I’m fine now and I’ll be even better when I have Amaya in my arms.”
Although he hated feeding in front of the occupants of the vehicle, he’d rather that than have them wonder what had gotten him so upset that his fangs had descended and his eyes had turned red with fire. At least the damn Thirst was a cover for his fury at Zorin and one he could use to mask that wrath. For now, but as he’d drank down the blood it had ignited the hunger inside him. One he’d thought had waned. He’d been wrong. It was still there, hiding inside him and was now flaring to life once more. Hell’s fire . . . he’d thought he had it under control: he was sorely mistaken.
Chapter 11
His stomach ached for another bag from Thorne, but he refused to show further weakness. Quinn fought against the raging Thirst that had made a surprise reappearance. He couldn’t allow it to affect him. Not now that he was nearing the warehouse where his Bloodmate was being held prisoner. He needed every last bit of his wits if he were to be of any use to Amaya, especially if he were to carry out his plans to kill the man responsible for kidnapping her.
He couldn’t allow himself to sink down into madness once again. He had to be strong, stronger than he’d ever been in his life, if he were to conquer this affliction and carry out the mission he’d set himself. The only people he could rely on were Thorne and Ace. The rest would be too scared of Directive repercussions, especially with members right there. Jana Noskova in particular. She’d warned them all, in no uncertain terms, and he doubted they’d go against her. Hell, he wondered if Ace would. Maybe it would be down to him and Thorne only. No. Ace would have his back. He was certain of it. No matter what, Ace would follow his orders, so he’d have him and Thorne backing him up when they arrived, which would be imminently as Quinn looked out the window and saw the
m approach their target.
A quiver of anticipation ran through him, his synapses suddenly firing to life with the thought that soon he’d be face to face with his Bloodmate, but first he had to deal with Igoravich. He had to take him out once and for all and ensure he would never be a threat to Amaya’s safety ever again. With that in mind he would have to get in first, ahead of Jana and her team, find Zorin, and kill him without it appearing like it was pre-planned. Simple. Probably not, but not impossible. He just had to convey his plan to Thorne and Ace as quickly as possible as soon as he could, without anyone else overhearing or suspecting what they were up to. That would be tricky, but again, not impossible. Timing would be everything.
Ace looked over his shoulder. “Two minutes to target.”
Jana tipped her chin before using the hi-tech communication unit to talk to the rest of the team in the other vehicles, her finger pressing on her ear once to open the comms. She’d handed him one earlier, but he’d yet to activate his. “You all know the plan, get to your locations and you go on my command. Do not do anything until I say so. Keep your comms open, everyone. I repeat, comms open.”
She didn’t wait for any responses, or he assumed not, he didn’t hear anything because he wasn’t listening in. Not yet anyway. He didn’t want her hearing anything until after he’d talked to his men. He side-eyed Thorne and gave him a sharp shake of his head. Thorne squinted and Quinn reached up to scratch his ear and raised an eyebrow. Thorne looked around and as nobody was looking at them, their attention on the outside as they were slowing down, Thorne quickly tugged out the tiny device from his ear and put it in his pocket. But then he frowned, patted his other pocket and tugged out his cell part of the way and raised his eyebrow.
A Vampire’s Thirst_Quinn Page 8
