“Allow me,” Carl interrupted and reached for the bags Zane handed down.

“Thanks, Carl.”

Having rid himself of the luggage, Zane shook Amaury’s hand. His head was shorn bald, and despite the lack of hair, he was a handsome devil. Lean and tanned, dressed in faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt, he had a casual air about him. But Amaury knew better.

Zane was a mean fighting machine: fast, ruthless, and lethal. He would never want to get on his bad side, not that Zane had a good side.

“Good to see you,” Amaury addressed him. “I feel better knowing you’re joining the fight.”

Zane’s mouth twisted, but it didn’t quite amount to a smile. “Anything for a good fight. Gabriel rarely lets me get into the action.”

A sideways glance at Gabriel showed Amaury that the New York boss graced them with an impatient look, his mouth twisting to one side. “And Zane knows exactly why.”

Sounded like a reprimand in Amaury’s ears. Zane seemed to shrug it off as if he was made of Teflon. “It’ll be like the good old days.”

“I don’t recall the good old days being all that good,” came Quinn’s voice from inside the plane. A second later his strawberry-blonde head popped out. He had a light complexion, light hazel-colored eyes, and a boyish smile. His age was frozen forever at south of twenty. He took it as liberty to behave his apparent age, even though he was well over two hundred years old.

“Maybe not for you,” Zane retorted, “but for Amaury and me, things were pretty entertaining.”

Not quite sure which one of their many battles his old friend referred to, Amaury only nodded. Not that he’d call it entertaining. Gruesome was probably a better word. Most fights Zane was involved in turned into a mess of blood and gore.

Quinn finally stepped out of the plane, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m ready.”

“About time.” Gabriel looked at his watch and furrowed his brows.

As soon as they were piled into the limousine, Carl turned the car back toward San Francisco. Amaury made sure he wasn’t facing Yvette who’d already stared daggers at him earlier. With Quinn sitting between him and her while facing Gabriel and Zane, Amaury was saved from both physical and eye contact.

For a moment there was silence until Gabriel finally spoke. “Samson must be ecstatic.”

“Never thought I’d see him like that,” Amaury confirmed.

“It doesn’t happen to many of us, but when it does, it’s life changing.” There was a sad look in Gabriel’s eyes. He’d not yet found his mate, and Amaury knew instantly that the loneliness was getting to him. It was stronger now than when he’d last seen him face to face a few years earlier.

While they would often talk through video conferencing, Amaury hadn’t been aware of how intense Gabriel’s emotions had become. Amaury’s gift didn’t work over the wire. He needed a certain physical proximity to hone in on people’s feelings.

Quinn bounced a confused look between them. “Ecstatic about what?”

It appeared the New York boss hadn’t yet filled his employees in on the latest developments in the Woodford household.

“Samson’s going to be a father,” Gabriel replied. “Didn’t waste time, did he?”

Only three months earlier, Samson and Delilah had bonded.

“They are good together.” Amaury cast a wistful look out the window as he ran his palm along the cool, smooth mahogany inlay on the door.

He would have preferred it if Gabriel had chosen to talk about work rather than make small talk. He needed to get the image of the happy couple out of his mind. Talking about other people’s happiness was too much in contrast with his own empty life.

“Wow, that’s great,” Quinn commented.

Amaury needed to terminate the chit-chat.

“Have you put together a strategy, Gabriel? What’s your plan?” Action was a good way to get his mind onto other things.

“I called Ricky from the plane. First, we’ll hold a staff meeting. We’ll keep in the background and let Ricky run it, but we’ll be using our powers to scan their minds. Basically, it’s you and me, Amaury. I’ll try to unlock their memories and go through them to find anything useful, and you’ll get to their emotions and find out what they are thinking,” Gabriel explained.

Amaury shifted in his seat. He saw a major headache approaching, literally and figuratively.

“There’s a big difference between thinking and feeling,” Amaury pushed back. “You know as well as I do that I can’t read people’s minds. Sure, I can figure out roughly what they might be thinking based on what their emotional state is, but it’s in no way reliable or detailed. Your gift is much more precise. Maybe we should just rely on yours.”