Surely it wasn't. She was no Dreamwalker, at least not one of much talent if she couldn't find her brother and reach out to him in his mental prison. If she couldn't help anyone, what good was a gift? Better to stick with what she knew and could see. Guns and bullets, flesh and blood. And yes, monsters of all kinds. What was tangible could be dealt with.
Which was why she was so lost in regard to Micah.
She'd left him alone too long. It wasn't easy to get moving, since the nap hadn't really been restful and her head still hurt some. If he was calm and his vitals were good, she might turn in early tonight and get a fresh start in the morning.
Cleaning up quickly, she decided to wear the same jeans she'd had on, and a different shirt. Ready, she slipped into the hallway and became aware of some sort of commotion at the end. Already headed that way, she made out a small group of people standing outside a door. Dr. Mallory was knocking, and raising her voice for whoever was inside to answer it. She didn't sound happy.
Rowan's footsteps slowed as she approached. Nick stood to the left of the doctor, Jax on the right. Mallory waved a hand at Nick in agitation.
"Use your pass code. I need in there to see if that stubborn idiot has set his recovery back by leaving the infirmary too soon."
"Micah left?" Rowan blurted, alarmed. "How?"
The doctor glanced at her, shaking her head. "Not your brother. Aric."
"Oh." Instead of relief, a sense of fear invaded, shaking her to the core. Aric being in trouble was no more acceptable than if it had been Micah. Helplessly, she watched as Nick blocked the keypad with his body and punched in the code. Then the group streamed inside, calling for their friend.
After hesitating, Rowan trailed them. Nobody had ordered her to stay out, and Aric was already becoming a friend, of sorts. She hoped he would be, anyway, and she didn't want anything bad to happen to him.
Rowan recognized the layout and guessed all the apartments must be pretty much the same. They hurried through the living room and down the short hallway to his bedroom. She heard Nick and Jax calling their friend's name, and then cursing just as she stepped inside. Oddly, Aric was lying on the bare mattress, curled on his side, wearing only a pair of boxers.
Nick was kneeling on the bed, shaking Aric's shoulder. "Aric, wake up! Shit, what's wrong with him?"
"Let me take his pulse," the doctor said briskly. "Move."
Both men wasted no time getting out of her way, though they paced anxiously. Rowan moved closer, hand over her mouth as Mallory dropped his wrist, shaking her head.
"It's too fast, and he's hotter than hell." Removing a white strip from her pocket, she peeled off the back and stuck it to his forehead. Within moments she got a reading and removed the strip as Aric remained unaware. "One-oh-six."
"That's impossible," she breathed.
Mallory answered. "Not for Aric. Remember, he's not human, and he's a Firestarter on top of that. His normal temp is around one-oh-two, but this is too high. He needs to wake up."
Firestarter? God. "What's wrong with him?"
"That's the million-dollar question." She fixed Rowan with a strange look, then turned back to her patient.
That was twice now with the look. What was up with that woman?
"Nothin' wrong with me," Aric muttered, opening his eyes to frown at the group. "Can't a man get some sleep? Think I've earned it, for fuck's sake."
"We're worried about you, asshole." Jax crossed his arms over his chest.
"Really?" Aric's voice dripped with nasty sarcasm as he sat up and came fully awake, shoving hair from his face. "See, now I've an entirely different take on how much you're worried about whether I'm dead or alive. My viewpoint was from the inside of a helicopter as it took off and I was carried away to be tortured for weeks!"
Jax's face paled and he looked like he'd been punched. "You don't know how sorry I am about that," he rasped. "But I only had one chance to save my mate, and I took it. You're both alive, and-"
"But my survival wasn't a certainty, was it?" Aric asked in a deceptively quiet voice. Like he was a time bomb about to blow. "I was left to be picked apart by vultures, especially Beryl, the bitch. She always-" The man cut himself off and clamped his lips shut, stark torment replacing the anger of seconds ago.
The cop in Rowan went on alert, and she wondered what he'd been about to say. What he might be hiding about the "bitch" in question.
Nick, too, studied him for a few tense moments, but didn't pursue the subject of Aric's torture or the woman responsible. "We came for you as soon as we had a location. You had to know we would."
"But whether I'd be alive-did you know for sure?"
"I felt you would be, yes."
"What a comfort."
"I'm so sorry," Jax told him in anguish.
Rowan's chest hurt. Friends who were as close as brothers shouldn't be tearing one another apart over terrible events that neither would likely do differently if given a second chance. Aric was hurting, but not for a second did she believe he would've sacrificed Jaxon's mate to save himself. As for Jax and the others, she'd made some tough decisions herself, and no doubt Luis Garcia's survivors blamed her for making the only one she could at the time.
"Thought I was getting a handle on this." Aric gave a bitter chuckle. "Guess that was before I was put to the test, huh?"
"Aric-"
"Don't concern yourself. I'll get over it. So if you'd all kindly show yourselves out, I'd appreciate it."
The doctor was having none of that. "No can do. You were so lethargic we had trouble waking you and your temp is one-oh-six, which is a bit high even considering your specialized system. You're coming back with me for a more thorough checkup, and that's nonnegotiable."
"I don't need-"
"You're not the physician. I am," she said sternly. "You can come peacefully or I can call in reinforcements, but you're coming."
Her ultimatum hung in the air, Aric trying hard to glare her down. He didn't have a prayer. Rowan thought the doc would make an excellent police lieutenant or captain-one icy stare and most of the guys' balls would freeze and fall off.
"Fine, whatever," the angry redhead snapped, bouncing off the bed. His small show of defiance was ruined, however, when his legs wobbled and Nick grabbed his arm to steady him. Cheeks flushing, Aric shook off the help and crossed the room, yanked open the door to his walk-in closet and disappeared inside.
Nick blew out a breath and massaged his temples. "That went well."
"That boy is his own worst enemy," Dr. Mallory observed.
"This boy is thirty-five years old and has the hearing of a dog," Aric called from the closet. "Oh, wait-I am a dog. Shit." A humorless chuckle floated from inside.
His friends exchanged exasperated glances, but nobody wanted to touch that one. Rustling was heard and a couple of minutes later their friend emerged dressed in low-slung jeans and a loose T-shirt. When he met Rowan's gaze, the hard edges of his expression softened, and if she hadn't known better, she would've said he looked like he had a secret. One he'd like to share.
Or a naughty one they already had.
She wasn't a blushing kind of woman, but her face heated as the memory of the wicked dream chose that moment to taunt her. Stupid, because there was no way he'd had the same-
"Doc, are you sure I have to come in right now?" he asked, never taking his eyes off Rowan. His lips curved in a predatory smile. "I'm feeling a sudden urge to pop down to Vegas and play a little... blackjack."
Oh, crap! Her eyes widened and she saw immediately that he knew she fully understood his meaning. But it wasn't real! It can't be if two people connect only in their minds! Right?
The doc's brows drew together. "What?"
Aric ignored the woman, keeping his attention on Rowan. "Come on. I'll walk you to the infirmary so you can see Micah and I can put up with the doc poking on me."
Realizing she was still gaping at him like a landed trout, and that his friends were glancing between them trying to figure out the private exchange, she schooled her expression and gave Aric a polite response.
"That would be nice, thanks."
The party filed out of Aric's quarters. Nick and Jax promised to visit Micah later, and left to attend to other business. Dr. Mallory issued firm orders for Aric not to waste time and get to the infirmary stat, and then stalked ahead at a rapid clip, leaving them alone.
"I can't decide whether I like that woman or not," Rowan said, mostly to herself.
"Melina's a good person," Aric said thoughtfully as they walked together. "But she was changed by the massacre as much as the rest of us. Our leader, Terry Noble, was her mate."
A wave of sympathy washed over her. "Now I feel horrible."
"Don't. Melina wouldn't thank you for showing an ounce of pity, so it's best to be real around her."
"Like it's best with you?"
That visibly took him aback for a second, but then he agreed. "Yeah. She and I are a lot alike in that respect. I don't do pity. We're both prickly, too."
"You might make a good couple." The idea of Aric making up half of a good couple with anyone made her want to hurt someone. Weird.
He snorted. "Hell, no. I'm not interested in a woman who has bigger balls than me."
"What, you have a problem with strong, career-minded women who don't take shit off anybody? Who could maybe kick your ass?" She heard the defensive tone in her voice, and he must've as well.
"Hey, back up. I see where you're going with that and you're wrong," he said earnestly. "I'm not one of those guys who gets his fragile ego wounded when he runs up against a female who can hold her own with any man. That's not it at all. I'm talking about chemistry, and I'm not attracted to anyone-man or woman-who struts around acting like they're the shit. Does that make sense?"
She thought a second. "Okay, I can buy that."
"Gee, thanks."
She smiled at his affronted tone. "Seriously, I'm with you there. I work with people like that, and while it doesn't mean they're bad, I just don't relate to them. But I try to remember there are reasons people present themselves a certain way, and sometimes they're covering deep hurt."
"So could you kick my ass?" His lips quirked.
"Definitely, as long as it's a fair fight."
"Really? Criminals fight fair?" he teased.
"You know what I mean. You couldn't let your wolf loose or turn me into ash."
"Or toss you across the room without touching you. I'm a Telekinetic, too."
"Good grief, anything else?"
"Nope, that's all."
"Well, thank God for small favors."
She found herself enjoying this interplay between them. He seemed to be, too.
"So let me get this straight," he said with mock seriousness. "You can go a round or three with me and win, as long as I don't use my full abilities. I have to hold back. Hmm, hardly seems fair to me."
"I prefer to think of it as choosing our weapons. I choose the ones we were born with-unless you'd like for me to even the odds by using a gun loaded with silver bullets."
He laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders. "Okay, you win. Name the time and place."
"Do you guys have someplace where you work out?" The heat from his side seared into her, and his male scent tantalized. Lord, being held against him felt damned good.
"We have a gym where we train, basically keep our skills in shape. It's across the building not far from our rec room."