Savage Awakening (Alpha Pack #2)(77)

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.

Chapter 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, he 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 f**k?"

"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 f**king 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?"