Amaury's Hellion
Page 97
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“Nobody inside?” Samson asked for clarification.
Amaury huffed. “I don’t fucking know, okay?”
Ricky cut him a surprised glare. Several voices came through the earpiece at the same time, before Samson’s voice burst through.
“Explain yourself, Amaury.”
The earpiece fell silent. “I haven’t been able to sense anybody’s emotions since I bonded with Nina. Even before that things were getting sketchy—almost like blackouts. I think I’ve lost my gift.” He was certain the moment he spoke. It had started slowly with the first time he’d met Nina. And while at the beginning his inability to sense any emotions had been confined to her alone, it had spread—slowly, but with ever increasing range.
Each additional moment he’d spent with Nina had wiped out more of his so-called gift. The temporary release that he’d only ever felt right after sex, had extended further and further the more contact he’d had with Nina.
He realized now that by bonding with her he’d hammered the last nail into the coffin with which to bury his hated gift.
It was over. His curse wasn’t coming back. His psychic ability was lost.
And all he could think of was how free and happy he suddenly felt.
“Fucking perfect timing,” Ricky hissed.
“Stop it!” Samson ordered. “We’ll have to do without it then. We’ll manage. Gabriel, at your command.”
“Test your access points,” Gabriel instructed.
The side door was locked. Ricky worked on the lock.
“Back?”
“Open,” Zane confirmed.
“Front?”
“Thirty seconds,” Thomas paused. Then, “Okay, front is open.”
“Side?”
“Almost there,” Amaury answered, watching Ricky. A nod from Ricky, and Amaury corrected, “Done.”
“Ready on the roof. Give us fifteen seconds. Fourteen …” Gabriel’s voice trailed off.
Amaury counted silently. Ricky’s lips moved: ten, nine …, as Amaury gripped his semi-automatic with both hands. Tense seconds passed.
Now, his friend mouthed and swung the door open silently. Amaury eased inside and pressed himself against the wall next to the door, his eyes scanning the darkness inside. Ricky slid next to him a second later.
There was a musty smell in the warehouse which was stacked with crates. Amaury couldn’t hear his friends’ footsteps. Good. If he couldn’t hear them, neither could Luther or his men. He motioned Ricky to stay on one side, while he crossed the path between the crates and moved along on the other side.
Despite the darkness, he saw clearly where he was walking. At the end of the aisle of goods he stopped and peered around it. Nothing. He gave Ricky a hand movement, then eased around the corner.
Aisle after aisle he worked his way toward the center of the building, with Ricky doing the same on the other side until the rows of the boxes and crates ended, and he reached an empty space in the middle. A movement to his left made him swivel on his heels, his index finger on the trigger of his semiautomatic.
“They’re gone.” Samson stepped in front of him. “The place is empty.”
His other colleagues came into view, frustration and disappointment edged onto their faces.
“Nothing,” Gabriel confirmed.
“Maybe Paul’s memories weren’t that good,” Zane insinuated.
Gabriel pinned him with a furious glare. “This is the place. They were here.”
“And now they’re gone.” Quinn’s voice was even as he cut in. “They must have known we were coming.”
Suddenly several sets of eyes landed on Amaury. If they were thinking what he suspected, they were in for a fight. Nina didn’t do this. He took a step toward Quinn. “What are you suggesting?”
His colleague held his ground. “You know what I’m suggesting.”
“You leave her out of this,” Amaury hissed and glared into the round. “That goes for all of you. She didn’t do this. She did not betray me.” God help him if she had.
Both Quinn and Zane stepped toward him, meeting his stare. They weren’t backing down. Amaury widened his stance, readying himself for a fight. He would defend Nina even though he didn’t know what she had or hadn’t done.
“There’s always the other reason, you know.” At Yvette’s casual words, everybody turned toward her. She stood there, her leather-clad foot propped on a crate, pretending to check her fingernails for any damage. Several seconds passed.
Amaury huffed. “I don’t fucking know, okay?”
Ricky cut him a surprised glare. Several voices came through the earpiece at the same time, before Samson’s voice burst through.
“Explain yourself, Amaury.”
The earpiece fell silent. “I haven’t been able to sense anybody’s emotions since I bonded with Nina. Even before that things were getting sketchy—almost like blackouts. I think I’ve lost my gift.” He was certain the moment he spoke. It had started slowly with the first time he’d met Nina. And while at the beginning his inability to sense any emotions had been confined to her alone, it had spread—slowly, but with ever increasing range.
Each additional moment he’d spent with Nina had wiped out more of his so-called gift. The temporary release that he’d only ever felt right after sex, had extended further and further the more contact he’d had with Nina.
He realized now that by bonding with her he’d hammered the last nail into the coffin with which to bury his hated gift.
It was over. His curse wasn’t coming back. His psychic ability was lost.
And all he could think of was how free and happy he suddenly felt.
“Fucking perfect timing,” Ricky hissed.
“Stop it!” Samson ordered. “We’ll have to do without it then. We’ll manage. Gabriel, at your command.”
“Test your access points,” Gabriel instructed.
The side door was locked. Ricky worked on the lock.
“Back?”
“Open,” Zane confirmed.
“Front?”
“Thirty seconds,” Thomas paused. Then, “Okay, front is open.”
“Side?”
“Almost there,” Amaury answered, watching Ricky. A nod from Ricky, and Amaury corrected, “Done.”
“Ready on the roof. Give us fifteen seconds. Fourteen …” Gabriel’s voice trailed off.
Amaury counted silently. Ricky’s lips moved: ten, nine …, as Amaury gripped his semi-automatic with both hands. Tense seconds passed.
Now, his friend mouthed and swung the door open silently. Amaury eased inside and pressed himself against the wall next to the door, his eyes scanning the darkness inside. Ricky slid next to him a second later.
There was a musty smell in the warehouse which was stacked with crates. Amaury couldn’t hear his friends’ footsteps. Good. If he couldn’t hear them, neither could Luther or his men. He motioned Ricky to stay on one side, while he crossed the path between the crates and moved along on the other side.
Despite the darkness, he saw clearly where he was walking. At the end of the aisle of goods he stopped and peered around it. Nothing. He gave Ricky a hand movement, then eased around the corner.
Aisle after aisle he worked his way toward the center of the building, with Ricky doing the same on the other side until the rows of the boxes and crates ended, and he reached an empty space in the middle. A movement to his left made him swivel on his heels, his index finger on the trigger of his semiautomatic.
“They’re gone.” Samson stepped in front of him. “The place is empty.”
His other colleagues came into view, frustration and disappointment edged onto their faces.
“Nothing,” Gabriel confirmed.
“Maybe Paul’s memories weren’t that good,” Zane insinuated.
Gabriel pinned him with a furious glare. “This is the place. They were here.”
“And now they’re gone.” Quinn’s voice was even as he cut in. “They must have known we were coming.”
Suddenly several sets of eyes landed on Amaury. If they were thinking what he suspected, they were in for a fight. Nina didn’t do this. He took a step toward Quinn. “What are you suggesting?”
His colleague held his ground. “You know what I’m suggesting.”
“You leave her out of this,” Amaury hissed and glared into the round. “That goes for all of you. She didn’t do this. She did not betray me.” God help him if she had.
Both Quinn and Zane stepped toward him, meeting his stare. They weren’t backing down. Amaury widened his stance, readying himself for a fight. He would defend Nina even though he didn’t know what she had or hadn’t done.
“There’s always the other reason, you know.” At Yvette’s casual words, everybody turned toward her. She stood there, her leather-clad foot propped on a crate, pretending to check her fingernails for any damage. Several seconds passed.
