by J. D. Tyler
She curled her lip. “First, I wasn’t on a quest to snare a man. I didn’t want a boyfriend.” Well, that was a lie. But still, she hadn’t been actively looking. “And second, I didn’t flee the scene like a criminal—I have a job. You know, that thing I do that pays the bills?”
“Whoa, don’t bite my head off.” His shit-eating grin was cute. “Aren’t you conveniently forgetting the job offer the team’s boss made to you?”
Frustrated, she waved a hand in the air. “Hellooo! Aric is on said team, and he practically shoved me into my car and launched me back to L.A. Unrequited love and work partners don’t mix, as you and I well know.”
He winced. “Good point. We’ve both tried that and failed, haven’t we? But I think you ought to reconsider, because I get the sneaking feeling he’s not as immune to you as you think. Take some time, is all I’m saying. Don’t totally rule it out, or you could really regret it.”
A recollection of Nick in his office sprang to mind, placing his fist over his heart.
Just listen to what this tells you.
“Okay, I promise I’ll give it some more thought.”
“Good. Now, what’s to eat around here? I’m starved.”
Some things never changed. And that was really, really great to know right now.
Familiarity was all she had to cling to.
After Dean left, Rowan got ready for bed and slid under the covers. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she drifted off, sinking into sleep.
Even then, she couldn’t stop thinking of Aric. Longing for her wolf.
Reaching across the vast distance, she pictured the field behind the building. Knew that was where she’d find him because she followed the pull. The damned yearning that refused to be denied.
The field appeared, and she found her toes sinking into soft grass. And across the short distance, the man she sought was bathed in moonlight, the glow illuminating his flawless skin, the lean, rippling muscles. He didn’t see her, but stood with his head tilted back, dark auburn hair flowing, gazing at the stars. But he must’ve sensed her, and he spoke in a low voice as she approached.
“Do you believe that’s where we go when we die?”
Moving close, she took his hand. It burned with heat but she didn’t release him. “I don’t know. I’ve always preferred the idea that we stay closer to earth, guarding the people we love.”
He turned to look at her, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Being a creature of the earth, I like that idea better.”
“Why would you be standing out here on a beautiful night like tonight and asking something like that?”
“I wasn’t, originally. I was really just standing here, hoping you’d use that gift of yours to find me.”
Cupping his face, love swelled in her heart against her will. Without her permission.
“And so I did. Make love to me, Aric,” she said breathlessly. With him, she wasn’t a cop, a protector. She was a woman, stripped to her bare essence, and it felt incredible.
“You don’t know how much I want to.” Stroking her face with one hand, he seemed to be memorizing her every feature. “But I can’t. I have to go, soon, and I—I wanted to tell you good-bye,” he whispered.
Fear seized her soul at the way he’d said that. So final. “Where are you going? Is it an op?”
“No, baby.”
“Then what? When will you be back?”
“I don’t know.” He looked away.
He was lying.
“Tell me the truth, damn you! I deserve to know,” she cried, grabbing his arm.
Agony lined his handsome face. “Before you left, I lied. I felt it, too, the pull. I never wanted you to go.”
“Then why? I thought you didn’t want me!”
“Oh, God. Nothing could be further from the truth. But you deserve much more than a loser like me.” Before she could protest, he kissed her lips. Tasted with his tongue, delving into the seam as he pulled their naked bodies close. Then it was over and he backed away. Let go.
“Forgive me for what I did to Micah,” he choked out. “Don’t forget me.”
Then he turned and walked resolutely toward the woods, like a man going to the gallows. She cried his name but she began to be drawn backward, the distance widening until she couldn’t see him anymore. Fog swirled around her and she sobbed, lost, calling for Aric.
“Aric, no!”
She awoke, trembling, staring into the gloom of her shoebox of a bedroom in her apartment. Raising a shaking hand to her forehead, she rubbed, trying to clear her mind of the awful dream. The terror gnawing at her gut right now, her no-nonsense inner voice whispering what if it wasn’t just a dream?
Glancing at the digital clock by the bed, she saw the glowing numbers read three fifteen in the morning. She couldn’t very well call Nick at this hour and order him to check on a grown man because she’d had a bad dream.
No. She’d get past this. It was some sort of leftover anxiety making itself known now that she was home. She would call, but she’d wait until the morning and talk to Micah. Pump him enough to hear that everything was all right, and no one would have to know about her little meltdown.
Okay, bad plan. Screw that and go with instinct. That’s what good cops did.
Switching on the bedside lamp, she stumbled from the room and went in search of her purse. Inside, she found Nick’s card right where she’d put it. Then she retrieved her cell phone from its charger and made the call, pulse racing.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved when it went to voice mail, but she left a message just the same. “Nick, it’s Rowan. I know it’s after three in the morning, but I have this bad feeling something’s wrong with Aric. I had this dream and—well, it’s stupid, but call me back anyway when you get this message. Doesn’t matter what time. ’Bye.”
The next call went to Aric’s cell. There, too, she got voice mail.
“Aric, it’s Rowan. Did you have that dream just now? The one where you said good-bye? Give me a call back as soon as you get this and tell me that was just some freaky trip, or that you didn’t have the same dream, and I’ll be happy. Please, call me. I—I miss you.”
Damn it. She hadn’t meant to add that last bit, but it slipped out. Pressing the END CALL button, she padded back to bed, but laid the phone on her nightstand. Short of driving back to Wyoming, she’d done what she could for now.
Closing her eyes, she drifted into fitful sleep. But this time she didn’t dream at all.
Fifteen
Somewhere, a bird was chirping.
No, not a bird. But it was insistent, and pulled him back to consciousness. Aric opened his eyes and fumbled for whatever damned thing was making noise, chirping and buzzing on his nightstand. And of course, in his groggy state, knocked the device onto the floor. His cell phone, he realized.
“Fuck.”
It was still night, and by the bedside clock, three twenty in the morning. Who the hell would call him at this hour? Leaning over the side of the bed, he groped for the phone. Lost his balance and landed on the carpeted floor with a thud.
A sizzling noise reached his awareness, and slowly it dawned on him that the sound was coming from the floor, where his palms and knees were braced on the carpet. An acrid smell reached his nostrils. What the hell?
Smoke. The carpet, smoldering.
Lunging for the lamp he switched it on and blinked, clearing his vision. The carpet was singed and blackened where he’d been kneeling.
“Shit!” Unreal. He was about to set his goddamned apartment on fire.
Scrambling into his bathroom, he sat on the tile, panting. He’d never been this freaking hot since he’d developed his gift as a Firestarter. In fact, he was burning up. Literally. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face, down his chest and spine. God, it was so hard to breathe. And his canines ached with the need to claim the woman who was hundreds of miles away, sleeping soundly. Unless that had been her calling?
Before he could check his phone, h
e had to try to get cooled off. Pushing himself up, he staggered to the shower and turned the water on cold. Climbed inside and leaned against the tile, facing the spray, watching the droplets hit his skin, then hiss and sizzle. At first he relished the cold water. It felt so good.
Then the soothing effect seemed to wear off. He was so hot he could barely draw in air. His knees gave out and he collapsed onto the floor of the shower stall, barely able to raise his head. Without his mate, his so-called gift had finally turned against him.
“Oh, God.” Help me.
But there would be no reprieve this time. To ease the pain, he imagined Rowan’s sexy face, how gorgeous she’d looked as he made love to her. How lost in the pleasure of their bodies joined.
At least he’d gotten to say good-bye, if only in their dreams.
Nick surfaced from sleep, wondering if he’d heard his cell phone—how long ago? He wasn’t sure. Middle of the night calls never boded well, and he had a feeling he should check. Wasn’t like he’d get more sleep if he ignored it. So he rolled over and grabbed the thing off his nightstand.
One call, from Rowan at three fifteen. It was three twenty-five now. Gut clenching, he turned on the lamp and pressed the button to play her message.
Nick, it’s Rowan. I know it’s after three in the morning, but I have this bad feeling something’s wrong with Aric. I had this dream and—well, it’s stupid, but call me back anyway when you get this message. Doesn’t matter what time. ’Bye.
Cursing, he jumped out of bed, completely awake now. Foreboding slithered through him and he knew this was no false alarm. Quickly, he threw on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and stuck his feet in his tennis shoes without bothering with socks. Then he jogged from his quarters down the hallway to Aric’s room, pausing only long enough to pound on Jax’s door.
The man opened a long minute later, wearing boxers, smoothing his goatee and peering blearily at Nick. “Boss, what the fuck?”
“I think something’s wrong with Aric. I need your help.”
Jax came awake, eyes wide. “Give me twenty seconds.”
“Tell Kira to go get Mac and Melina,” he called after Jax.
In no time the RetroCog was back. “Kira’s throwing on some clothes. They’ll be right behind us. Think we should get Zan?”
“Good idea.”
One more stop, and the three of them were running down the hall to Aric’s room. Time was of the essence. He felt the urgency, pressing down. He didn’t bother to knock but punched in his override code to access the door. Then he ran, his men behind him.
The sound of the shower relieved him, but only for a moment. There were no splashing noises, like someone taking a shower. Just a steady stream. No other sounds.
Then he yanked open the stall door and saw why. Aric was sprawled naked on the floor, unconscious. Dark auburn hair streamed over his face, stuck to his chest. Steam rose from his body as the water hit, fogging the glass.
“Jesus Christ,” Zan cried, jumping in. He turned off the water and placed a palm on his friend’s chest. “He’s fucking burning up, from the inside out. I can’t—God, I can’t heal this. His temperature is out of control.”
Jax tossed in a large towel. “Wrap that around him. Can you carry him without getting burned?”
“Yeah, I can neutralize the heat, as long as he doesn’t burst into flames.”
It was a distinct possibility. Nick watched as Zan tucked the towel around Aric’s middle, then grasped him under his knees and behind his back, lifting his friend into his arms. Aric’s head lolled back, lashes dark against his pale cheeks.
Goddamnit, they were going to lose him—unless they got Rowan here, fast.
They met the women in the corridor, and the group hurried toward the infirmary. When they got there, a rumpled-looking Noah met them, obviously having been dragged from his bed as well. Mac stopped Nick from following Zan into the room where they were getting Aric settled.
“Let us help him. You’d only be in the way right now.”
“But he’s—”
“I know,” she said gently. “Let us do our job.”
Blowing out a breath, he relented. “Sure. I’m sorry.”
Squeezing his arm, she disappeared into the room. In moments, Zan emerged, having been booted out to wait with the rest of them.
“If that snarky bastard dies,” the Healer ground out, “I’m going to play nonstop country music over his grave as punishment. What the fuck is wrong with him, Nicky?”
Everyone felt his pain. The desperation of possibly losing a great soldier. A good friend and fine man. They deserved to know.
“Rowan is his mate, remember? And he let her go without telling her—and more important, without claiming her.”
“I can’t believe we let the dumb-ass do that,” Jax croaked. “He saw what happened to me!”
“He doesn’t feel like he deserves Rowan because of what happened to Micah and the team. He didn’t say anything about Beryl, and she ended up hurting all of you. Half your number are still missing, and he blames himself for that, too.”
Zan punched the wall, leaving a dent. “What a bunch of shit! Nobody blames him! Why can’t he wrap his stupid brain around that fact?”
“Now what?” Kira asked.
Nick took his cell phone from the pocket of his sweats. “We get a certain cop here, pronto. I’m sending the jet to L.A. Who wants to pilot?”
“I’ll do it,” Jax volunteered. “My license is current.”
Kira spoke up. “I’ll go with you. I’m betting she’s going to need another woman to talk to about the mating thing.”
“Good idea,” Nick said. “Go. I’ll tell her to meet you at our landing strip east of the city.”
The couple left and Nick went to the waiting area to make the call. Zan followed and sat across from him, silent. Nick waited, not surprised when she answered on the second ring.
“Hello? Nick?”
“It’s me. Rowan, listen to me—you were right. Something has happened and I need you here right away.”
“Oh, God! It’s Aric, right? What’s wrong with him?”
“Jax and Kira are on their way in our jet, and they’ll explain when they arrive. Pack your stuff and be at the landing strip in two hours. Can you do that?”
“Of course. Give me directions and I’ll be there.” Her voice had calmed, taking on that cop tone he’d come to know so well.
Right then he knew without a doubt that Rowan would do whatever she could to save Aric. She loved the man. There was hope.
He gave her directions to the strip and hung up, slumping in his seat. He and Zan didn’t speak. They just listened to the clock tick on the wall, and prayed that Jax could get Rowan back here in time.
Rowan showered quickly, got out, dressed. Opting for simple, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and went with little makeup, applying only enough so that she didn’t look like a corpse at almost six in the morning.
Next she repacked her duffel with clothes for a good week or more. Then she called Dean and left him a message, telling him what she knew. Which wasn’t much.
A call to her sergeant was next, and boy, was that one as fun as a colonoscopy. He wasn’t amused to learn that she wasn’t coming back on shift this morning as scheduled. His ominous tone as he spoke the words “We’ll talk when you return” didn’t bode well. It hit her that she might not have a job to come back to.
And then it occurred to her that she really didn’t care.
The one thing that mattered was Aric, and something terrible had happened. All she could think of was getting to him. After watering her plants, she scooped up the bills from her table and stuck them in her purse. She’d mail them from Wyoming.
Then she was on her way, leaving L.A., and she had the strangest notion that she wouldn’t be back. But she’d have to return, wouldn’t she? She chewed on that all the way to the strip, and some more as she waited for the jet that would whisk her to Aric.
Finally it appea
red, dipped low and came in for a smooth landing. The craft taxied to the end of the runway, and the pilot didn’t even bother to shut it off. Instead, the door opened and Jax popped out, jogging over.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, taking her duffel and slinging it over one shoulder. “Come on. There’s not one minute to waste.”
She trailed him, panic beginning to eat at the edges of her self-imposed calm. What could have happened? What could be so bad? And why would they come after her in the middle of the night? She didn’t see how she could help, grateful as she was to be able to get to him quickly. Jax tossed her bag in, and held out a hand to assist her into the plane.
“In you go. Kira rode along with us. She thought you could use some company, and an explanation.”
Relief swamped her. “I appreciate that, more than you know.”
“Oh, I have some idea.” With a kind smile, he climbed in and shut the door, heading for the pilot’s seat. “Buckle up.”
She took a seat next to the petite blonde and snapped her seat belt in place. Normally she hated takeoffs, but this one barely phased her. She was much too upset to think about the plane ride.
Kira smiled warmly at her, but Rowan could see the worry shadowed in her eyes. “Hey. I thought you could use a friend.”
“I could, thank you. You know, I don’t have many girlfriends,” she mused. “I guess it’s because I’ve worked for so long in a male-oriented environment. Most women don’t warm up to me because of it, especially the cops’ wives.”
“They think you’re out to prey on their men?”
Rowan laughed humorlessly. “Something like that.”
“Well, they’re stupid bitches, then. Anyone can see what a great heart you have.”
“Thanks. So tell me, what’s wrong with him?”
Kira was silent for a long moment, then met her eyes. “He’s sick, Rowan. I mean, deathly sick.”
“He… he could die?”
Kira’s eyes filled with tears. “Yeah. I just hope we make it in time.”