Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(12)

She meant the temperature had increased enough for the bank of sooty smoke above him to reignite.

Chris wasn't crazy. His gear was good but not meant to withstand that kind of hell. Fear flooded through his veins, threatening to turn his powerful shifter muscles to water.

"Can't," he said, despite the reaction. "I've got two life signs."

"Chris," she ordered in a full alpha snarl. "Back the f*ck out of there."

Ignoring her, he edged inside the door, obliged to physically push against the thickness of the hot air. Alarms began beeping, the safety device on his suit going off. He didn't need it to tell him the heat had jumped dangerously. He could feel it through his thick coat. Crap, he thought, fighting panic. Was his faceplate melting?

Help, said the tiniest telepathic voice in his head. The voice wasn't Evina's. Please, said a second. We're still in here.

He couldn't get to them. There wasn't time, and the fire was too furious. His ribs tightened with distress. They were kids. He couldn't leave them behind.

Not after what had happened to his brothers.

"Chris," Evina growled through the radio.

His inner conflict was too great. Something snapped inside him, the sensation so visceral that at first he thought a bone had broken. He realized it wasn't that when his vision shifted completely to shades of gray.

His tiger nature had seized control of him.

He hadn't known it could do that without him changing form. Unlike his human self, his tiger wasn't afraid at all. It strode without hesitation toward where he'd seen the small life signs.

The kids lay together under a table. The girl might have been seven, and the boy was younger. No more than semi-conscious, they'd pooled their auras together, using their power as an envelope to shield them from the flames. Their skin was red but, as yet, they weren't burned badly.

Elves, Chris thought, noting their pointy ears. As he did, his tiger-controlled body crouched down and dragged them out. Time slowed strangely the moment he held their childish weight. Cinders and burning chunks were raining down on them. He sensed the fire gathering its strength for a new expansion--or maybe his tiger did. His tiger ripped off his fireproof coat, using it to wrap around the kids. Chris was a shifter. He might survive more exposure. These elf kids had exhausted their resources. They didn't stand a chance without protection.

The fire flashed over even as the scorching agony of the existing blaze registered on his skin. Balls of yellow and black flame boiled through the ceiling smoke. Chris's tiger ran for the door with the kids clutched to his bare chest. His shirt had ignited the instant his coat came off. He felt the blistering heat and didn't at the same time. His tiger was in charge of his limbs, bounding him at shifter speed down the hall, dodging falling timbers and open holes in the disintegrating floor.

His beast knew where they were going. Chris's eyes were too hot to see. Apparently, Station 12 had humped a hose up their ladder and opened up a stream. Steam boiled at him instead of fire, knocking him to a halt. Someone shouted and shut off the water. Given an opening, his tiger dove out the window, his precious cargo hugged tight to him.

Chris would have killed human firemen, catapulting at them that way. The tigers on the ladder caught and slowed him.

"Get a medic!" someone shouted as strong hands passed him to the ground. "He's still alive!"

His arms were paralyzed in position. Someone pried them apart.

"Jesus," they breathed. "He's got two kids in his coat."

Chris couldn't choke out the question he needed the answer to.

"They're alive," the fireman who'd called for the paramedics exclaimed. "I hear faint heartbeats."

Chris tried to thank him but passed out cold instead.

~

Chris bolted up gasping and sweaty, the dream momentarily more real than his surroundings. He was in an unfamiliar bed, in an open loft, with a sleeping man lying face down beside him. The sight of his companion's muscular back restored Chris's memory. He'd woken at Nate Rivera's, his alpha's new fiance. He'd had mind-blowing awesome sex with the cute gay werewolf from the party.


Chris rubbed his face, appreciating that the skin was smooth and not burn-scarred. The apartment fire was over. Chris had come through it.

"What is it?" his bed companion slurred into his pillow.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Omega or not, Tony didn't listen. Unabashedly naked, he sat up and looked at him. They'd fallen asleep with the lights on, and Chris got a good eyeful. The strapping wolf was sleepy-eyed and gorgeous. His skin was tanned all over, his nipples tempting darker circles on his broad chest. His lips, which were flushed and kissable, curled teasingly. "Bad dream?"

The kid was the stuff of good dreams, for sure. Chris didn't want to darken Tony's brightness by explaining. Mind-blowing sex aside, they were strangers.

"I'm fine," he said, pulling his knees up and holding them.

Tony laid his hand behind Chris's shoulder. He didn't rub the muscle, just let the warmth of his palm sink in. "You were dreaming about that fire, the one that put you in the hospital."

His guess turned Chris's gaze to him. "You heard about that?'

"Please." Tony's manner was humorous. "Saving those kids made you a hero to heroes. You know how people talk in our lines of work."