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.
Chapter 3
Quinn straightened his tux, again, although he knew it was already immaculate, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from tugging on the hem of his jacket. Thorne side-eyed him, whispering out the side of his mouth. “You okay?”
“Of course, I am,” he snapped back, his tone sharp, but his voice barely loud enough for anyone other than Thorne to hear.
Ace, his Head of Security, was leading the way, his men surrounding them as they made their way through the crowd of people that had amassed outside Magnum, the club that had been completely taken over for the launch party. It was the place to be in Hong Kong, with one of the highest cover charges to gain entry, and shots starting at 100 HKD . . . a paltry sum in USD or UK pounds, but a lot of money to the locals, but it was still the place that people wanted to be seen.
Tonight’s extravaganza had the streets packed with people desperate for a glimpse of the many celebrities who were on the guest list, as well as a chance to get their hands on the free handouts of Scales of Sin that had been leaked as a publicity stunt. There were also more than a few here just to see him . . . he knew that. It happened all the time . . . people eager to see an ancient Vampire. Their hearts beating faster whenever he was near, their blood rushing through their veins with excitement, or fear. He was never quite sure which, and didn’t give a damn.
“This is crazy.” Thorne shook his head as Ace had to fend off several over-zealous females who tried to reach over the barrier, calling his name over and over. “They’re screaming for you like you’re some kind of popstar.”
“Fang groupies,” Quinn replied scornfully, not even looking in their direction. “I just want to get this over and done as quickly as possible and head home.”
When they entered the club, Thorne whistled, his voice rising as the noise level rose dramatically around them. Music blaring, voices talking all assaulting them while they strode inside. “Wow, this is something. They’ve even set up a gaming area and look at those models . . . damn!”
Quinn saw them all right, fawning over the men that were playing Sin, but it was the scent of their blood running through them that hit him like a punch to his face and stalled his feet. Luckily Thorne didn’t notice, his eyes roaming the area and taking in the multitude of stars that were present, as well as the models, and his partner, Bennie Sun, in this business venture was closing in on him fast. His eyes bright and excited, hand outstretched.
“Quinn! I’m so happy to see you, isn’t this fabulous? It’s an enormous success already with many of the guests arrived and others on their way. Stamp, the lead singer from that new boy band, is here and has played the game and tweeted about it . . . isn’t that amazing? It’s going viral right now! And, Star, there,” he pointed to a tiny brunette who was jumping up and down in her seat as she played at one of the consoles, “she’s freaking huge in the US and she’s gone online already and got it all over her social media, raving . . . raving about it. It’s got a gazillion hits! Sales are going through the roof, Quinn. We’re going to make a ton of money on this.”
The man’s excitement was palpable in the air surrounding him and he allowed Bennie to lead him around, introducing him to people whose names he didn’t hear and faces that didn’t register. With every passing minute seeming like an hour and his skin suddenly feeling as if it were no longer his own, and just how the hell did his bespoke tux shrink two sizes in the last few minutes? His finger ran around the inside of the collar, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling, and when that failed he untied the bow and loosened the stud, cracking his neck from side to side before grabbing Bennie’s arm. “I’ve had enough of you parading me around. I need a break.”
“What? Already?”
“Aye, I’ll join you again later,” Quinn dismissed him, turned on his heel and looked for a quiet corner to collect his thoughts. Instead a young woman caught his eye, she was dancing to the music dressed in a bright red dress that clung to her body like a second skin and he stopped to watch her.
She had blonde hair that swung as she danced, hips swaying and legs that he was sure would wrap wonderfully around his hips as he fucked her senseless while he sank his fangs into her neck and drank his fill from her. He leaned forward, inhaling. B Positive, that would do nicely to sate the damn thirst that had suddenly reared to life once again inside him, his belly aching to be filled with the red ambrosia that ran through the beauty’s veins. She turned toward him, her eyes locked with his when she saw him watching her and smiled. A smile that told him she was well aware of what he was thinking as he ran his eyes up and down her body.
His fangs pressed painfully on his gums, desperate to tear free, his heart speeding up as he pictured tearing into her throat . . . ripping it until there was nothing left but sinew and . . . what the fuck? No. That’s not what he wanted. He would never do that to her, or anyone. He couldn’t hurt her in that fashion. What was he thinking? What was wrong with him? He turned away, breaking eye contact with her and tried to regain control of himself before he did something he could never come back from.
Striding away from the main crowd of people who were enjoying the party that was now in full swing, with drinks flowing, music blaring and celebrities at every turn, Quinn headed for what appeared to be a dark corner, leaning against the wall and waiting until Ace had a cordon of men in front of him and Thorne before turning to his friend.
“I assume you have that emergency supply with you?”
Thorne moved to stand in front of him, unslinging the bag from his shoulder and digging out a bag of blood, looking around surreptitiously before handing it over. “Here you go . . . is one enough?”
“I’m not sure,” Quinn admitted. “I’m feeling odd again and this is beginning to irritate me.”
His fangs sprang free, ripping through the plastic to drain the contents dry in seconds. Thorne snatched it back, stuffing it away quickly before anyone could see but before Quinn could ask for another a heady scent wafted toward him. One he knew and one he definitely didn’t expect to encounter here in Hong Kong.
Especially not when he was in such a compromising and weakened state.
“Quinn Alexander, just the man I’m looking for. What’re you doing hiding away like this?”
Thorne spun to the left, eyes wide as a tall vision appeared, sashaying toward them . . . inside Ace’s security cordon. He stepped between Quinn and the woman still shrouded in darkness, his lips curling up in a vicious warning snarl, Quinn’s hand shot out to stop him. “It’s okay, Thorne.”
“What?” Thorne asked, his head snapping between the woman and Quinn.
Quinn turned his full attention to their visitor who stepped closer, dressed in skin tight jeans and thigh-high boots with a blood red bustier so tight he wondered how she could breathe. Her face wasn’t covered in make-up like most of the other women attending the event, some mascara to accent her eyes and a little gloss covering her plump lips, but that was all she required to make her stand out above any of the others. She was stunning just as she was . . . and deadly.
“I didn’t see your name on the guest list, Miss Noskova?” Quinn countered quickly, hiding his surprise, and his alarm at seeing her.
“That’s not very friendly,” she countered right back, “But you should know if I want an invitation to any event, then I can get one. Perks of the job and all that.”
“So, you’re working?�
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“As a matter of fact, I am. And Jana is fine, Miss Noskova is so formal.”
“Can I help?”
“Possibly, but I’d like to discuss the matter with you privately.”
“You can speak freely in front of my men.” Quinn frowned, wondering what on earth she could possibly wish to talk to him about, especially in private.
Jana looked around the area and the people that were walking past, shaking her head. “I’m afraid this location isn’t secure enough for the conversation I’d like to have with you, Quinn. Indulge me . . . please?”
Quinn tilted his head, staring hard into her eyes and thought about her request. He was in Hong Kong for a short time, yet she was here waiting on him and wanting to discuss something in private. The Directive’s Second in Command didn’t fly half way around the damn world on a whim and she was being polite and asking for his time. He wasn’t in trouble. So, whatever it was, it was definitely something to do with him and it sounded important. He wasn’t foolish enough to say no to her, not just for the sake of it anyway.
“Ace . . . can you find us somewhere for a private meeting, please?”
Ace looked over his shoulder, nodded, and sped away.
“Thank you.” Jana moved closer, lowering her voice to barely a whisper. “May I ask . . . how have you been feeling?”
Thorne moved in again, Quinn could feel his friend’s protective nature rising to the fore as he barged between them. “Mister Alexander is just fine, thank you. What kind of question is that anyway?”
Jana’s eyes crinkled at the sides, her lips pursing into a smile. “Down boy. I guess we’ll wait until we’re alone.”
“Yes, I think that’s prudent.” Quinn reached out, tugging Thorne back before he got himself into more trouble than he could handle. He was grateful to him for rising to his defense but to challenge Jana was not a wise move. Luckily, Ace returned at that moment, motioning them to follow him and he led them for several minutes until they were securely ensconced in a back office that was far away from the main club.
It was well lit, private, quiet and obviously to Jana’s liking, but only after she dismissed everyone but him and even tried to make Thorne leave. However, he refused to allow that, much to her annoyance. Tough. He shared almost everything with him and with how he was feeling the last thing he needed was to lose it without a supply of blood at hand . . . so that meant Thorne stayed.
“Fine!” Jana snapped, nodding to plush sofas. “Can we at least sit so we can talk? Because I’m going to admit I’m here specifically for you, Quinn. I have information that might be the most important you’ll ever hear and I need you to focus . . . sit, listen, and I could change your destiny.”
Chapter 4
Thorne snorted, shaking his head at Jana who’d perched on the end of one of the sofas while he’d thrown himself into the corner of another. “Dramatic much? I thought you were all cool, calm and collected?”
Quinn joined him, stretching out his legs and resting an arm on the edge of the cream leather. He remained silent, waiting to see what she would say at the same time as trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in his belly that had started again. It sliced through him like a knife sawing painfully from the inside out, but he refused to allow it to show in any way whatsoever, forcing his eyes to focus on Jana as she speared Thorne with a withering glare that had his guard squirming in his seat.
Seconds ticked by while she tormented Thorne with nothing more than her steely eyes until Quinn could stand it no longer . . . or was it the longing for blood that caused him to intervene? He wasn’t quite sure. “Why have you sought me out, Jana? And just what did you mean by your extraordinary statement? I have to agree with Thorne, it sounded a tad melodramatic.”
“Maybe . . . or maybe not.” Jana’s head spun to him, her dark blue eyes boring into his before raking down over his body and back again. “I’m here with a special team, helping them with an assignment, and when I heard you were going to be here . . . the damn penny dropped and I knew you were the one.”
His stomach clenched, agony searing through his entire body, his fangs burning against his gums and threatening to tear free in search of food. Shit. He couldn’t lose control in front of the damn Directive’s Second in Command. That was not happening. She’d have him locked up tight before he could snap his fingers . . . or maybe not. Could he take her? Maybe. She was only a Wolf. He was an ancient. With Thorne there . . . they could take her together, surely?
Quinn snapped his head to the side, shaking it clear of such wild thoughts. What the fuck was he thinking? Treachery. He couldn’t believe the thought had even crossed his damn mind!
“Quinn? Are you all right?” Jana asked, her voice sounded soft, far away . . . had she left the room?
“Q? Shit, Q! Hold on, just hold on!” Thorne’s voice was clearer but not by much . . . had he gone somewhere too?
What was going on?
Pain shot through his head, red hot poker pain. Like lava had been poured inside his skull, the pain was like nothing he’d encountered before. White hot agony shot through him from the head down, down, down . . . all the way until his entire body was encompassed and then it hit; hunger. A thirst so great his fangs erupted, his mouth tore wide open and he searched for the only beating heart nearby. It called to him like a beacon and once he was done with that he could sense so many others below that he was going to feast on. He was going to drink and drink and . . . his body was thrown back violently. Thorne screaming in his face and shoving something into his mouth: food.
The heady aroma of A Positive rammed into his senses, his fangs tearing into the cold plastic and gulping the blood down his throat so fast he barely tasted it before hurling the empty bag away, a roar of frustration breaking free as he demanded. “More! I need more!”
Thorne, or at least he thought it was his friend, placed another, in his hands and that went the way of the previous . . . gone in seconds. His vision a blood-red haze as he sought to sate the raging thirst that burned his insides with a ferocity that appeared to have no end in sight. Another bag was plunged into his hands, and when that was done he demanded another, and another . . . on and on he feasted, until finally, slowly, he began to regain control and he no longer felt like ripping out Jana’s beating heart . . . wait. What the fuck? Did he really just think that?
Was he on the verge of attacking Jana Noskova? He, Quinn Alexander, the master of control and etiquette and a gentleman to boot had seriously thought of draining dry the Second in Command of the Directive?
Quinn shook his head, looked down at the many discarded donor bags, and then rose to pace the room. His mind a jumbled mess of thoughts, mainly how he was going to explain the meltdown he’d just had in full view of Jana. Fuck up didn’t even begin to cover it.
Was she even aware of how close he was to attacking her? He fucking hoped not.
“Q?” Thorne’s hand on his shoulder stopped him, “Are you feeling . . . better?”
How was he supposed to answer that? Especially with her still in the room with them. He could feel her eyes on him. Scrutinizing. Watching. Waiting. Shit!
“Yes,” was all he said. What else was there to say?
“Good,” Jana broke in. “Come and sit down, Quinn. You look like shit.”
What? That was her response to his atrocious behavior? His complete and utter meltdown? His total loss of control? What the hell was going on here?
He turned, keeping his face as cool as he possibly could in the circumstances, straightening his tux he motioned to the mess on the floor. “Could you clean that up for me, please, Thorne?”
Thorne looked at the litter of donor bags, his eyes widening slightly before he rushed to clear them away without a word. Quinn retrieved a handkerchief, wiping around his mouth before he sat down, crossing his ankles. “My apologies . . . I’m not quite sure what came over me. I’ve been a little under the weather today.”
He was surprised that she hadn’t appeared to have moved.
Not an inch from where he’d last seen her perched on the table where she’d gone to when he’d gotten up to pace, and she didn’t look as if she were in the least bit startled by his outrageous behavior either. She looked cool as a cucumber as her inscrutable eyes locked with his, one eyebrow arching. “Looks like I found you just in time, Quinn. You need to listen to me and, believe me when I tell you what I have to say could not only change your life forever, but save it.”
Thorne strode over and Quinn could feel his anger and frustration pouring from him as he stopped before Jana, his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring while he growled. “There you go again with the dramatics. Can’t you just get to the damn point and tell us why you’re here and stop with all the theatrics?”
Jana slowly slid off the desk, unfurling her sleek body to stand tall, and with the stiletto heels she wore she was almost eye to eye with Thorne. Her raw power filling the area around them while her lips drew back in a vicious snarl, her beast was right there, eager to spring free and show Thorne who was boss. Her eyes darkened, her skin shimmered, and her voice was cold as ice as she leaned forward so her nose literally touched his. “I’ve given you latitude today because your boss, your obvious friend, is in trouble . . . but no more. You talk to me like that again, boy, and I’ll rip your fucking heart out. Now back the fuck up, shut up, and listen and maybe, just maybe, I can help.”
If there had been any doubt who was in charge in the room before there sure as hell wasn’t any longer. Jana Noskova, the feared and deadly Second in Command of The Directive was up front and present in her full and fiery glory, baring her teeth and displaying her power for both to witness. Quinn guessed she rarely put on such a demonstration, probably didn’t need to, but damn she was glorious to watch as she firmly put Thorne in his place. His friend fought his instinct to push back. It wasn’t in his nature to back down to anyone, but he wasn’t that dumb. Was he?
A Vampire’s Thirst: Quinn Page 2