He tried to look past the shuttle van to the other side of the street.
“Can you see what’s going on?”
Gabriel grunted. “No. Don’t worry; she can handle a homeless guy.”
The van was stopped for entirely too long, as the driver helped a handicapped person into it. Who the hell left for the airport at four in the morning? Amaury was just about out of patience. Ignoring his colleague’s displeased look, he stepped around the van and trained his eyes on the scene on the opposite side.
The homeless man was gone. And Nina was nowhere to be seen.
“Ah, shit!”
Without waiting for Gabriel, he rushed across the street, dodging a car and a furious driver. His eyes, well equipped for the dark, darted along the street, checking every doorway, every entrance. At a faint sound, his ears perked up. His reflexes set in, and he swiveled. Two steps and he was at a narrow alley leading to the tradesmen entrance of a building. He could make out two figures struggling.
Despite the dark, Nina’s golden hair was hard to miss. Amaury leaped at them and pulled the man off her.
“Bastard! Get your fucking hands off her!”
The mere thought that the homeless guy was touching her turned his stomach. He slammed his fists into the man and threw him to the ground. Behind him Amaury heard footsteps. Gabriel and Quinn. They could take care of the bastard now.
Amaury brought his attention back to Nina. She was still on the ground, but moaning. Damn, he should kill the bastard for hurting her.
“Nina, chérie, don’t move. I’m here.”
He crouched down next to her and ran his hands over her, testing for injuries.
“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded less than pleased.
“Keep still. I’m just trying to see if you’re hurt.”
She pulled herself up to sit and wrenched free of his hands. “I’m fine.”
Something was wrong. He couldn’t find any physical injuries, but there had to be a reason why she was so annoyed with him. In fact, she’d been pissed at him ever since they’d left Samson’s house.
Before he could ask her, he heard Gabriel behind him.
“Well, hello, Paul Holland.”
Amaury spun his head around. Now that he looked at the homeless guy closely, he realized that Paul Holland, their suspect, had disguised himself. How had he known that Nina was waiting for him here? All Gabriel had done was send Paul on an assignment that would take him past the place where Nina was waiting. So, how had he known to disguise himself?
“I guess this proves that he’s our man. Take him back and interrogate him.” As much as he loved to beat it out the bastard himself, he needed to take care of Nina now. “On second thought, have Zane do it. I think I’m all out of nice for today.”
Gabriel raised his eyebrow, but didn’t object outright. “Don’t you want to do it yourself?”
“I’m taking Nina home.”
“I can go home by myself.” Nina’s protest would have no bearing on his actions tonight.
“No, you can’t, because you’re coming home with me.”
Gabriel and Quinn restrained the suspect. “We’ll leave you guys to it.”
Amaury barely nodded at them and watched as Nina got up, her legs a little shaky. Instinctively, he reached out to steady her. She pushed his hand away.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Amaury snapped.
“Why don’t you just read my emotions?” She gave him a defiant glare.
So that was the problem—she thought he could sense her feelings. What was it she didn’t want him to know?
“Nina, I can’t sense your emotions.”
“Liar. Samson told me that’s your gift. You were there, and you didn’t contradict him.”
He took her by the shoulders and turned her fully to him, even though she continued to struggle under his grip. “I can’t sense your emotions. Not yours. Everybody else’s, yes. But not yours. And I don’t know why.”
“You can’t?” Her voice was softer now, as if she was trying to figure out if he was lying.
“I have no idea what you feel, and it drives me crazy.” Even more so now that he suspected there was something she didn’t want to share with him. What the hell was it?
“Oh.” It was all she said, before she dropped her gaze from his face.
“Come, let’s go home. You must be tired.”
Amaury felt drained. Worrying about her had zapped his energy. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t fed since the night Thomas had untied him from his bed. How long ago was that? Was that last night or the night before? He couldn’t remember. Too much seemed to have happened since then.