"Phone call!" The bellow echoed up the stairwell and Flint groaned as he rolled over in his bunk, rubbing at his face. That was not the wake up call he wanted after the week they had. "Lastoriolli, get your ass down here!" He gave another groan before lifting up his foot and shoving at the bunk above him.

"Lastor, get your ass out of bed and go answer your fucking booty call." He grimaced as he lifted his other foot and shoved harder, the dog tags on his chest rattling as he managed to tilt the bunk above him, sending the Salus vampire sleeping up there, rolling off.

The male hit the floor with a yelp. "What the fuck, Flint!" There was a heavy grumbling hiss and Flint waved off the pissed off vampire who had gotten to his feet.

"So help me god if I have to go up there this handset will be shoved up your ass, Lastoriolli!" At the bellow from Mick the vampire's grumbling hiss trailed off before he scoffed.

"I'm coming!" He threw a dark look at Flint and he shrugged in response.

"Next time wake up proper when you are called." He pushed himself to sitting, throwing his legs over the edge of the bunk as the vampire left the room, his feet thudding down the stairs. Flint counted down in his head and there were numerous grumbles in the room from across the hall.

"I swear to gods, Lastor!" The female voice came down the hall, accompanied by a bottle of water that had been thrown. It went end over end as it headed down the stairwell as if trying to seek out the vampire who was the reason most of the remaining unit was now up. Flint glanced at the alarm clock on his beside table and groaned heavily. It was four in the fucking afternoon and if that wasn't enough to make someone throttle the vampire, he wasn't sure what that would be.

"I'll kill him." He muttered it as he got to his feet, knowing the asshole would come thundering up the stairs in a few minutes and wake everyone up once more. There was no use trying to go back to sleep to endure that.

"You always threaten, Flint, and never actually do anything." At the deep and amused rumble that came from Darian's bunk, Flint shook his head as he headed for the shower room. He wasn't about to let anyone in his unit with know the exact reason he always stopped at threats. It was enough to get them all to call him a simpering grandmother and he would never hear the end of it. It was best if they didn't know he had secretly claimed them all as his familial pack, his clan. The lone wolf never survives so he had declared them his own when he had been recruited to the Order.

He moved to the showers and pulled off his briefs, slinging them into a laundry hamper. He turned on the shower and stepped underneath the spray with a groan. He rubbed his hands through his hair vigorously, trying to swipe all the sleep off of him and to wake himself up. He wanted to get his mind out of the instinct laden fog that had seemed to descend around him over the past year, it was getting harder and harder to do. Instincts pounded on him harshly and he didn't know what to do about it.

"If Lastor keeps getting his booty calls at this time, I will lock him in a Damascus steel coffin and toss him out on the lawn." At the hissing rumbling that came from the female who had just entered, Flint gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

"I'll help." He grabbed the soap and started to scrub his skin.

"It's too fucking early for that bullshit." She hissed again and Flint gave another grunt as he ran the bar of soap over his head, lathering up his hair. "I swear, why the fuck do we even buy shampoo?" At the snapped words Flint turned his head right as a bottle of shampoo was flung rather accurately at his face.

He caught it, losing his soap in the process. "For fuck's sake, Kenni!" A growl ripped from his chest and the vampire barred her fangs at him as his soap skittered across the tile floor.

"Stop using fucking dial soap on your hair. Use the shampoo, you mangy dog." She hissed at him, baring her fangs before she stepped underneath her own shower head, scrubbing at her hair. He noticed the undercut on the sides of her head were starting to get longer. Flint would bet money that once she was done washing up she would pull out her clippers to touch it up. Soap bubbles started to slid down his forehead and he threw a dark glower at her before he cursed and shoved his face underneath the shower spray to wash the soap away from his eyes.

The sound of someone else entering the shower room had him opening his mouth. "Soap's loose." Both he and Kenni said it at the same time and there was a deep curse that more than likely came from Darian.

"Haven't either of you heard not to drop the soap?" There was a rumble of amusement from the demon and Flint rolled his eyes as he cracked open the shampoo bottle and started to wash his hair properly.

"Not in prison, Darian. Sides if you wanna bend over and pick that shit up, by all means." Kenni's voice was gruff and showed she was in no mood to deal with anyone at the moment. If Flint had to guess he would bet his left nut that she was the one responsible for the water bottle thrown down the stairs. Lastor was just lucky he had already been gone, it would have pinged against his head otherwise. She was an expert at long distance target practice.

"Kenni in a bad mood?" The demon didn't seem to care about her apparent mood as he pushed the topic. Flint rinsed out his hair, hoping to get done before it blew up. Kenni was one mean son of a bitch in the hours before sunset. Not that he blamed her, he wasn't quite happy woken up that early either but at least he stopped at threats. Kenni didn't.

She followed through.

"I will cold cock you, Darian, and snap off one of your pretty fucking horns." There was a very clear threat that told everyone that she could and would back herself up. Not that anyone had any doubt about that. The last thing you wanted was to rile her up before an assignment, she could shoot you in the ass from nearly a mile away with her rifle and call it friendly fire, or use her favourite 'wind caught it' excuse.

"Leave the horns alone but please cold cock me. Then perhaps it will knock loose the image of Cyrus dipping on a fucking succubus yesterday." At that Flint laughed and he was aware Kenni was laughing as well.

"It was for two seconds!" The newest arrival let Flint know that Cyrus, the warlock, had joined the group.

"And yet you still managed to have your tongue down her throat and your hands in her flesh folds." At the imagery it gave Flint, he held back a gag.

"Jesus, Darian. Some of us didn't see that and don't want the mental image." Succubus were not attractive, they relied on pheromones that drugged their victims enough to get what they wanted. That meant that none of them were in anyway attractive and sometimes they were down right nasty looking.

"You were supposed to make sure the bitch stayed off me!" Cyrus' agitation was clear in his voice as the sound of another shower started up and then another.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself." At that there was a rather loud cacophony of groans that echoed off of the tiled walls. No one wanted that mental image, least of all Flint as he finished up, shutting off his water. He shook his head, spraying water droplets everywhere before he ran his hands through the strands, giving them a shake with his hand as he walked over to the towels.

"Fuck's sake, mutt, do that outside." Conner's voice was a low grumble and Flint felt the very atmosphere of the shower room change. Conner's presence was not hard to miss, he seemed to suck all the levity out of every room he entered. Which was fucking strange considering the fucking sychophajus only fed on negative emotions.

"Bite me, sych." It would have been better if Colt had come in, at least that wouldn't have rubbed everyone the wrong way. Conner was bad news. He had always been bad news but Mick said he stayed, so he stayed. Flint had no clue why though. The guy was good as a tank and for close quarters but outside of that he didn't have a fucking clue why he was in the Order.

"You are one up from a leech in my eyes, mutt. Try not to forget that." The soul eater glowered at Flint and Flint shook his head at him, wrapping a towel around his waist as he did so.

"That's the difference between you and me, Conner. I don't give a shit what you think." He truly didn't. Conner had a chip on his shoulder that dug in deep and Flint was aware that his friendly association with Lastor and Kenni did not make the sych like him at all but he didn't care. He truly did not give a fuck what a sych thought of him, especially not the psychopath that was Conner. Perhaps a tiny bit with Colt but with Conner, Lastor and Kenni came first.

"Fuck, do you get hangry. Go suck the despair out of a dead end stripper and put us all out of your misery." Kenni's voice sniped the words out into the shower room and Flint fought down a smirk at it. Leave it to the female vamp to poke at the hornet's nest.

"Shut the fuck up, parasite." There was an icy chill to the air that came with the words and Flint shook his head. He knew that as much fun as it would be to watch the two of them go at each other's throat, he needed to get dressed.

"Make me, sycho." Kenni's blunt challenge followed him towards the door and Flint shook his head slightly at her balls.

"Enough you two." Nalah walked into the room, a lavender robe wrapped around her slender form. Flint pressed his fist to his chest and bowed at her out of habit as she passed him. She had told him to knock it off but as a female werewolf aristocrat, he wouldn't treat her as anything less. After nearly thirteen years he figured she just stopped trying. Old dog, new tricks and all that.

"Fuck off, Nal-" A rippling snarl came from the female werewolf as she stared down Conner. Her form, while slender and graceful, was fully pulled taut and every inch of it dared the sych to push her. She could and would do damage and Flint didn't doubt there wasn't a male in the entire Supernatural Tactical and Reconnaissance Order that hadn't learned that first hand.

Except for him of course. He wasn't into infighting. Verbal spars and throwing each other around on the mats was one thing but the Star Order was the clan he had chosen for himself. That and he knew better than to challenge an aristocrat werewolf who made it into the best group of mercenaries that were in the little black book of every major supernatural organization currently known and the Council. Even before seeing her in action, he knew she would wipe the floor with him, she had that look about her. After seeing it? Well he made sure to not piss her off.

"Enough, Conner." Colt finally came into the room and the icy chill emanating from Conner receded. "Get showered and move out." There was a heavy order to his voice and Flint watched as he moved over to Nalah, grasping her shoulder gently as if trying to help her disengage. It took her a second before she finally relaxed and moved away from the sych and towards the showers.

Flint moved back into the main bunk room, once again running his hand through his wet hair. He went to his locker and pulled out his fatigues. He quickly dried off as best as he could before he started to dress. The dog tags around his neck jingled and he honestly liked the sound. He never thought he would ever be where he was now, let alone in the Star Order but he was there all the same. It was a far cry from where he had been thirteen years ago.

He pushed the thought away. There was no need to delve into that and he refused to drag himself down this early in his day. That was another thing, he honestly never saw himself as a creature of the night but here he was, getting upset at being woken up at four in the afternoon because his normal wake up was at seven pm. His assignments usually ran with vamps and that meant they ran the night shifts and he honestly liked it. He truly did. It meant a shit ton more moonlight runs and the beast inside of him loved it all the more for it.

He yanked on his clothes, the dog tags jingling on his chest as he pulled his muscle shirt over his head before shoving his feet into his combat boots. Black on black on black. The only distinguishing mark the clothes had was his cargos had the Star Order logo embroidered on the side pocket, the thread black to help the mark blend in with the rest of the fabric. It was best to look as unclaimed as possible, that was the entire Order's MO. They were the thing that protected civilization from what went bump in the night, the thing even monsters were scared of. They didn't exactly like broadcasting that into the public.

"Get your asses down here!" Mick didn't sound overly happy and Flint closed his locker as he tossed his towel into the laundry basket. Without a word he headed out of the bunk room and down the stairs. He shook out his hair again and yawned wide, his jaw protesting as he came into the main area. The space was large and utilitarian, the theme was concrete on concrete but then again they were underground and there wasn't really much use to decorate a space that was used mainly to crash in after assignments.

Flint had himself separate living accommodations, all the team members did. They were all roughly in the same area but close enough to home base to be able to come in quickly if there was an emergency. If his rotations weren't mandatory, Flint knew he would be at home base the entire time. He didn't exactly have a life outside of the Order. Sure he went out for drinks with the others on occasion but that was about it. The Order was practically his life, when he wasn't running assignments he felt a little lost. He wasn't going to lie about that, not to himself. It had been made especially worse in the last year, if he wasn't on assignment his brain fogged up and his instincts rode him hard. He didn't like that, not in the least.

Lastor was leaning against the counter with a furrowed brow, his hand clutching a coffee cup that Flint knew had a mix of blood and coffee. "Trouble in paradise?" Flint crossed the space to grab some of the bread out of the bag so he could make himself some toast.

"Bite me, Flint." It came out sharp and Flint grinned, baring his teeth.

"Maybe later but only if you've been a very good boy." The words managed to squeeze a snort out of the troubled looking vampire and Flint felt accomplished as he shoved the bread into the toaster. "So spill." His friend was pondering something and by the furrow dug deep into his forehead, Flint knew it wasn't anything good.

"Just some chick who I think stole my number after one of my hook-ups." It was said flippantly as Lastor took a heavy drink from his cup.

Flint pointed at him, "That's a lie."

"And yet that is all you will be getting out of me about it." Lastor gave him a look out the side of his eye that had Flint bowing his head slightly. He knew better than to pry. He wanted to, his inherent werewolf curiosity and his tracker nature demanded he figure it out but that look told him to lay off. At least for the time being.

Mick practically stalked from his office and Flint nodded at him in greeting but the human didn't seem at all impressed by his presence. But then again it was Mick. Mick was never impressed by anything. His dark eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If I have to repeat myself I won't be happy!" His voice boomed from him and Flint turned away as his toast popped. Lastor passed him the small container of cream cheese and Flint couldn't help his rumble of enjoyment at he thought of his morning cream cheese toast as he took it.

"I wish you would stop bellowing, Mick." Nalah's voice carried from the stairwell and the human merely grunted. Flint finished his toast and cut it into perfect squares before turning around, plate in hand.

"Human's just over compensating." Kenni's voice had an edge of snark that Flint could see Mick bristling over. He wouldn't say Kenni was right but there was the aspect of Mick that it fit. He was surrounded by a majority of supernaturals and despite the fact he was essentially a defacto General, he would always be human. No longevity, superhuman strength, or magic for him.

Flint started eating his toast as he watched everyone file down from upstairs. Despite being human, Mick could make any supernatural's life hell so everyone listened when he bellowed. He looked at the mohawked human and faintly grinned. A year of cleaning latrines would make anyone fall into line and the human would find a year's worth of actual latrines to make one clean. By hand. With a toothbrush. In the middle of summer.

"We received an emergency call. The Werewolf Committee sent out an urgent call for us to head deep into werewolf hunting territory to speak to their contact. They said the information was time sensitive and had to be given in person. The Council is also pushing so this means we have some major shit brewing." Mick spoke with complete authority and his voice was even. "I need to send a team out." Flint grinned wider as he continued eating his toast. He was on the rotation for another job and it being werewolf meant he would be top pick behind Nalah. That meant he was especially happy about it, no wasting away in his small house bored out of his mind for the next week.

"Octavius and his team are not back from their assignment so Colt, Conner, and Darian, you are all off duty until they return." At the words Flint watched as Colt nodded firmly and Conner's expression twisted darkly. The guy was never happy unless he was knee deep in brawls and killing. He truly was a fucking psychopath.

"I didn't hear my name." Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest, looking perturbed at the oversight.

Mick didn't seem to miss a beat as he focused his gaze on the warlock. "You stay close to home base. We might need you scrying depending on what information the contact gives us." The order was firm and Cyrus nodded his affirmation. "You three can head out. I'll call you when Octavius and his team get back so we can get you a new assignment." Colt nodded and Conner practically seethed as they both moved towards the elevator. Darian saluted, his dark horns gleaming underneath the lights before he snapped away.

Mick turned to everyone who was left. "Nalah, you're on point as always." She shifted her weight on her feet and nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. Her muscle shirt showing off the play of muscles underneath her skin. Flint always did like the look of her in those muscle shirts but he also really liked keeping his teeth in his mouth so he always shut the fuck up about that. He shoved another square of toast into his mouth as he once again shifted his gaze to Mick.

"Kenni, you're on back up long range. I don't know what you guys will walk into so I need to have you out there to watch their six if shit hits the fan." At the order Kenni nodded, a faint smirk on her mouth that showed off one of her fangs. "Lastor, you're medical and close quarters. Flint, you're tracking and close quarters." Both Flint and Lastor nodded at the orders. It wasn't like Flint expected anything else. He was a tracker, that was what he was good at. Well including the standard tactical munitions and hand to hand combat training they all had. Still his sense of smell was his best asset, he could track anything as long as he got the scent in his nose.

"This is all the information we have." Mick moved over to the table where several papers were and Flint pushed off of the counter, his plate in his hand as he went over to see the assignment details.

"This is a bit light, Mick." Nalah didn't look the least impressed as she picked up one of the papers. Flint had to agree, it was stupidity to head out on little to no information. That was asking to get your team eight hundred miles up shit creek with no paddles.

"It's all they gave us as a preliminary. The WC is tight lipped about this but they wouldn't fuck us over. Obviously something has gotten them spooked enough to require an in-person meeting with a contact instead of the usual formalities." He pushed the other paper towards her and Flint polished off his toast, setting the small plate down as he grabbed the paper she discarded.

It really was light on the details. Most of it simply said to approach the contact and get the information from them. However Flint nearly choked as he read the location of the contact meet and greet. He shook his head as a dark feeling rose up in him. Of all the bullshit he had to endure. "I can't take this assignment." He set the paper down, a dark feeling rising up in him as he did so.

"Awwww poor puppy. Too scared to play with the big dogs?" Kenni's voice barely pushed through the hazy mess of instincts in his mind that was being pushed at him by his beast.

"I was banished from the area by my clan's guardian. I doubt they've rescinded that banishment. That puts the mission and everyone on the team at risk of exposure." The words were steady as they came out but he knew his next words would burn. "I can't take the assignment." He didn't want to say the words, he wanted to be out on assignment, he wanted to be where the instincts weren't pushing at him and where that stupid fog let up. The danger in the assignments kept it at bay, he needed them.

"Yet you'll do it. WC is counting on us and they specified we needed our best tracker. Any familial clan feuds take a fucking backseat and if your dumbass clan guardian tries to start shit, the WC will backhand them so hard their children will feel it or I fucking will." Mick's voice was vicious as he stabbed a finger towards the papers. "We have a job to do and you are the top tracker. You're going, Flint. Do I make myself clear?" There was a heated malice to Mick's voice that had Flint pressing his lips together.

"Crystal." The words came through gritted teeth as he repressed the urge to snarl. "Just let it be noted that I do not think it's a good idea to potentially risk an entire team due to a single member." With his instincts and beast acting like it was, he knew it was going to spell massive fucking trouble.

"It's been noted and tossed into the I don't give a fuck pile." Mick's blunt edged statement slapped Flint slightly and he fought back a low rumble at it. "Anyone not WC that tries to get on Flint's ass for being in the meet-up location, Kenni, shoot theirs." The words were cold and Flint glanced up as Kenni gave a wide grin, baring her fangs.

"With abject pleasure." She glanced at him and rested her elbows on the table top as she set her chin in her hands. "I'm going to be on you like a fucking flea, mangy mutt. Up in your business so tight Beck will need a speculum to get me out of your vag." Despite the tension that strummed Flint's muscles he let out a snort of laughter at the look of utter delight Kenni had. It was rare she was given an order to run personal interference with one of her teammates and Flint knew that despite how she acted, she loved starting shit or rolling around in it. The more personal chaos she started the happier she was. Sure the female vamp pretended drama was bothersome and headache inducing but she was the first to start it when she was given half a chance.

"Glad you will be checking up on the health of my vagina, Kenni. I greatly appreciate it, just don't get too rammy down there. I'm sensitive." Flint caught her gaze and winked at her before grinning, that instinct tangled fog loosening its grip on him as she winked back. He liked his vamps, he wasn't going to lie. He, Lastor, and Kenni were constantly on assignment together and the years they spent working together had solidified their relationship. They were a great fucking team and it made a part of Flint that had felt so empty since his brother had banished him, fill up just a bit.

"We're all very glad you're down to earth with your sensitivity and feelings, Flint, but shut the fuck up." Mick snapped it out, a testament to his patience wearing thing. "We have one contact to make and only Nalah will make it." At the words Flint snapped his head towards Mick just like he knew Lastor and Kenni were as well. He couldn't even hide the slight growl that rumbled his chest at it.

Lastor shook his head quickly. "Not the greatest idea. She needs back-"

Mick waved off Lastor as if the concern were nothing but an annoying fly. "We don't know the contact and WC says they are to stick with us the entire time. To ensure everything goes smoothly and they can't tip anyone off if we need to go covert, they will remain in the dark about who is on the team until it is absolutely necessary for them to find out." Mick narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows pulling down low as he glowered at Flint and the others. "And by that I mean-"

"Immanent death is approaching at fuck you speeds. Yes, Mick, we understand." Nalah picked up the papers. "I appreciate the concern but I can handle the contact by myself. You guys will be close by but if covert is needed, Mick is right. Our connection together cannot be known until it is absolutely necessary. Keep the contact in the dark and they can't fuck it up." She neatly put the sparse pages in order before looking up at Mick. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you fucking can." With that he turned on his heel and stalked off back to his office. Flint ignored it, Mick was never one for niceties and a person got used to it.

"So... potentially covert?" At Lastor's words Nalah let out a groan and pinched her nose in exasperation. "I call, newly wed couple searching for Dracula's daughter! Flint is my Bride, I called him!" Lastor wrapped his arms around Flint from behind and squeezed. "He's so beautiful, we make a great couple don't we?" He practically cooed it out as he pressed his cheek to Flint's.

Flint barked out a laugh as he reached behind him to pat Lastor's cheek in return. "We sure do." The male vamp was a fucking riot when he wanted to be. After over a decade of working with him, he wasn't bothered by his antics anymore. In fact if they weren't there, then there was a big problem that needed to be fixed and Flint didn't like that at all.

"You can play newly weds on that infamous hunt but you will be Kenni's Bride. Leave poor Flint out of it." Nalah sighed it out before she lifted her head from the papers.

Lastor made a sound of irritation as he let Flint go. "Not fair."

Kenni clapped her hands together once. "You're so my fucking bitch, Lastoriolli." The words came out vicious and delighted, it seemed Kenni was winning on all fronts for the assignment. Flint figured she deserved it at least once or twice.

"So what will I be?" Flint straightened before inspiration struck and he held up a finger before Nalah could speak. "Wait. Scheming, money hungry guide who preys on newly wed vampire couples for several grand while they are on their honeymoon and too stupidly in love to catch onto the fact I'm fleecing them blind by taking them on a stupid expedition in werewolf hunting ground territory for a vampire that doesn't exist." He grinned at that and Nalah pondered that for a moment before she shrugged.

"I don't see why not. If covert is needed, I'm a lost aristocrat brat." She said it simply and Kenni gave her a fanged grin.

"Pick something else, Nalah, you must get tired of playing that role every single day of your life." At the snarky response both Flint and Lastor winced, looking towards Nalah for her response.

Without looking at the vampire she pointed at her. "When we get back, you will spend a half an hour on the mats with me." The wince deepened on the two males and Kenni shook her head, still grinning.

"Oh you know just how to get me hot and bothered, Nalah." She pressed the tip of her tongue to one of her fangs as she gave a rumble of delight from deep in her chest and Nalah shifted the papers.

"And that will make it an hour." Nalah looked around at the three of them. "Get your shit, we are heading out in fifteen." With that she picked up the papers and headed to her own office.

Each of the point leaders had an office. Colt, Octavius, and Nalah each had their own spaces to keep on top of all the assignments they headed. Flint shrugged slightly. It was better them then him, he hated doing the paperwork the assignments brought. He moved back towards the barracks, Lastor and Kenni following close behind him. As much as he hated the fact he was going back to his old clan grounds, it did feel good to have an assignment.

He needed to do something or he knew he was going to be out of his mind.