Amaury's Hellion by Tina Folsom Read Free Book Online

Samson and Delilah. We can hide out there until Oliver can come and get us.”
    Yvette pulled up next to him as they continued running down the street. “I didn’t expect you defending me against Zane.” Was she going to thank him? Now that was a departure from their previous interactions. “In any case, I can take care of myself.” 
    No, didn’t sound like a thank you after all.
    Amaury gave her a sideways glance. “It means nothing.” He didn’t want her to get the impression he’d gone soft. Zane had been out of line, and Yvette’s concern was valid. That was all that was to it. Other than that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about what she thought of him.
    “Still keeping up the same old face, huh?” Her voice had a mocking tone in it he didn’t appreciate.
    “It’s the only one I got.”  Before Yvette could come back with another smart remark, which he sensed was coming any second now, Gabriel’s voice interrupted them.
    “Is this it?” He pointed at the large Georgian-style home with a FOR SALE sign on the front lawn.
    Amaury sprinted to the gate. He found the familiar blue lockbox bolted to it. Swiftly, he punched his PIN into his electronic key and pointed it at the lockbox. A faint beeping sound indicated the two devices were communicating.
    He glanced over his shoulder. In a few seconds the sun would breach the horizon.
    Finally, he heard a click and pressed the container. It released a cradle and with it the key to the house.
    “Got it.”
    When he looked up, he saw his five companions already hovering at the entrance door, their eyes pinned on the horizon. They made way for him to get to the lock. A few seconds later the key turned, and the door opened.
    “Quick, pull the blinds and the curtains shut,” he instructed as they rushed in, each of them running into another room to close the drapes and blinds, shielding them from the rising sun.
    “There are no blinds in the kitchen,” came Quinn’s voice.
    Amaury had already slammed the entrance door shut behind him. “Shut the kitchen door.”
    A quick survey of the house showed him that the best place to wait was in the den, which not only had dark drapes, but also backed up to a sheltered yard with lush trees. The property was tastefully staged with rented furniture, even though it was unoccupied.
    “We made it.” Gabriel sighed with relief.
    Amaury overheard Carl talking on his cell, instructing Oliver to pick them up.
    “Samson obviously has other things on his mind if he can’t even ensure the security of his own people,” Zane chided, clearly needing an outlet for his anger at the situation.
    Amaury shot him a warning look, but Carl was faster when it came to an answer.
    “Mr. Woodford doesn’t deserve your disrespect, and, not that it’s any of your business, circumstances—”
    “Nobody should have ever gotten a chance at placing an explosive charge in the car,” Zane shot back.
    Amaury felt Carl’s indignation physically and quickly turned to hide his face from the group as their collective emotions crashed into him. This pain would never change. Even his shrink had practically given up on him.
    During his last session a week earlier, Dr. Drake had suggested taking a break. Amaury could still hear his voice. “It’s got nothing to do with psychoanalysis. Your problem is not psychological.”
    Amaury had shot up from his chair and jerked his coat from the hanger, toppling the flimsy metal coat stand. “Thanks a lot. After spending a fortune on these sessions, now you have the insight that it’s got nothing to do with my psyche? That’s rich!”
    “Listen, Amaury. We’ve explored every possibility. It’s time to concede to the inevitable. You were cursed, and none of my medical skills will help you lift this curse. You need a witch to help you, not a psychiatrist.”
    “You forget that witches don’t exactly like us.”
    In fact, witches and vampires were sworn enemies. Not many of the modern vampires remembered