CHAPTER FIVE
When Sal woke, she didn’t know where she was. The room was beautiful in an Asian-opulence sort of way, but it was definitely one she had never seen before.
Nick’s place. That’s where she was. She remembered now. The horror of the night before made her sit up in bed.
She was still wearing the same loose clothing she had put on the night before. It slithered against the red silk of the sheets. She really looked around at the room and took in the design.
It was a little ostentatious for her tastes, but the red silk didn’t look tawdry in this setting. It fit beautifully with the Asian-inspired chrysanthemum motif. Big pink flowers were on the walls, with red and black accents. The furniture was high quality. Black lacquer cabinets and bed frame with red fabrics, like the silk sheets. The curtains were the same bold chrysanthemum pattern as on the walls, bordered with red and hanging on black lacquer rods with decorative finials. The pink was a shade that somehow worked perfectly with the bright red.
Professional design. It had to be. No way had Nick decorated this place himself. She just couldn’t picture the rough-and-tumble bodyguard choosing giant chrysanthemums as the basis for a guest room—and definitely not for his master bedroom. She found herself smiling at the mere thought.
Pushing the soft covers back, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and discovered her shoes, put neatly under the bed, just the heels sticking out, so she could readily see them. Nick must be a neatnik, if he’d done that. Her suspicions were confirmed when she also noted her overnight bag on top of the chest at the foot of the bed. It was unopened, but perfectly centered and sitting up straight on the chest, where she could easily find it.
Nick must have brought her in here. The last thing she remembered was sitting down on the plush couch. It had been super comfortable, and she must have fallen asleep, feeling safe at last. Something about Nick gave her that feeling. The other guards were great, but only with Nick did she feel safe enough to sleep without worry.
Of course, last night, that had almost been her undoing. Someone had gotten past all the men stationed in the grounds around her rented house. The man had somehow gotten into her bedroom.
Fear engulfed her once again—less than it had the night before, but still very potent—as she remembered waking up to find a huge form standing mere feet from her bed, looming over her in the dark. She’d seen something flash. A knife? Claws?
Claws? Crap.
Could this have something to do with those kids she’d seen at the director’s party? She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain she’d seen a boy transformed into a leopard. Maybe the one drink she’d allowed herself at the party had been spiked with something. People didn’t really turn into vicious animals, did they?
Then again, she had seen stranger things in her time. She’d heard stories, myths and legends about shapeshifters. Her mother’s people had always had such tales. But she hadn’t believed them. Not really. She just thought they were stories shared around a campfire or a hearth. Stories to tell children and give them something to fear besides the harsh realities of life.
Few people realized Sullivan Lane was part Navajo. Her mother had distanced herself from her Indian heritage. She’d turned her back on superstition. Or so she’d told Sal during the sane times. The times when her wild magic wasn’t causing her to act out in ways the human world found unacceptable.
Sal had often thought that perhaps a Native American shaman could help her mother, but Sal didn’t have any connections in the community, and her mother was adamantly against having anything to do with that side of her heritage. Sal had never really understood why, but any time she brought up the idea, it provoked a violent episode, so she’d stopped talking about it.
She hadn’t stopped thinking about it, though. Getting help for her mom was still very important to her, but Sal didn’t quite know where to turn. She’d hoped that maybe now that she had real money coming in, she might be able to use some of it to track down real help for her mother, but she didn’t quite know where to start.
Sal had asked around a bit about the boy from the valet service, but she hadn’t been able to learn anything useful. Not even his name. She wasn’t even sure what she would do if she found him. How could a kid help her find help for her mother? Even if she wasn’t hallucinating and the kid really was a mythical skinwalker?
That’s what they called shapeshifters of Navajo legend. Sal had heard her mother use the term, but always with great fear. Sal had looked it up on the internet and what she’d found had left her feeling a bit of trepidation. Skinwalkers were said to have committed truly evil deeds in order to gain the power of shapeshifting. It wasn’t a benevolent thing, so if she really had seen the kid turn into a giant spotted cat, she probably should steer clear. She’d arrived at that conclusion after her web search and was glad she hadn’t been able to track down any information on the young man. Better to let sleeping dogs—or cats, in this case—lie.
But what if the man who had come in through her balcony door had been a skinwalker? What if he was there to silence her? Or threaten her?
He’d certainly done that. She’d been scared out of her wits, though she’d had presence of mind enough to locate the loaded gun she had kept under her pillow since the decapitated squirrel had shown up on her doorstep. The man—creature—had reared back when she pointed the gun at him. And then, he’d fled.
Thank God.
She didn’t really want to shoot anyone, but she would have had to pull the trigger if he had continued to menace her. To this moment, she wasn’t completely sure she would have been able to do that. Target shooting was one thing, and she enjoyed it very much, but actually shooting a person was quite another. She’d never had cause to shoot anyone before, and she hoped she never came that close ever again.
There were two doors in the room. She tried one, finding an attached bathroom decorated in much the same style as the bedroom. She used the facilities but delayed taking a shower—though she badly wanted one—until she knew more about where she was and if the situation had changed since she fell asleep.
Using the hairbrush she’d packed last night, she made herself mostly presentable and tried the other door, which led, as expected, to the hallway, which then led to the living room she remembered. The main area was somewhat open-concept, so she easily spotted Nick and an unknown man seated at the marble-topped island that separated the kitchen from the living room. Both men stopped talking and turned to look at her as she emerged from the hallway.
“How are you feeling, Miss Lane?” Nick asked politely.
“Much better, thanks. I just wanted to check in before I shower, in case something’s changed since last night.” She moved closer, eyeing the strange man.
“Nothing new to report, except the arrival of Collin Hastings,” Nick told her, gesturing to the other man, who stood and stretched out a hand, offering her a friendly smile. “Collin is an associate who owns one of the premier private investigation firms in the country. He’s agreed to personally oversee the hunt for whoever breached our security last night.”
Sal shook the other man’s hand, appraising him as she learned his role. He had a crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once, but oddly, that didn’t detract from his otherwise handsome face. He was built on the muscular side, like Nick, but he was a little taller and leaner. He looked almost lanky but still presented a strong appearance of competence, strength and determination.
“Thank you for agreeing to help with this,” Sal said politely.
“Glad I was free and able to come,” he replied. “Please forgive my casual attire. When I heard what had happened, I took the first flight and didn’t stop to get clothes. I’m based out of Las Vegas these days, but Nick and I had a meeting planned for this afternoon anyway. After the incident last night, we moved up the time. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
“Speaking of which…” Nick came around the island and stood before her, his expression solemn. “On behalf of myself and my team, I have to apologize to you, Miss Lane. I’ve spent the past few hours figuring out exactly what happened, and I can assure you, it will not happen again. We failed you. I failed you.” His head lowered in an expression of shame and regret that she hated to see on this powerful man. “If you’ll give me a chance, I promise to do better from here on out.”
“Oh, Nick…” She wanted to reach out to him, but Collin’s presence stifled her impulses. “I don’t blame you or any of your men for what happened. How are they, by the way? Is everybody okay?”
“Concussions,” Nick reported, his mouth held in a tight line. “Those guys won’t be on duty for a while. We’re replacing the team with people from Collin’s outfit. They have special skills that make them a better choice for now.”
Sal looked back at the other man and then met Nick’s gaze. “I trust your judgment. I trust you, Nick. Don’t worry about yesterday. Let’s just move forward from here, okay?”
“You’re being very gracious about this,” Nick told her candidly. “You have every right to fire us all and find somebody else. Most people in your situation would do exactly that.”
“I think you’ve already figured out that I’m not like most people in Hollywood, and frankly, this situation is complicated. I think you’ve all handled it as well as you could to this point. I don’t think any other company could do better.” Especially if skinwalkers were involved, Sal thought very carefully to herself. She didn’t know of any traditional security company that could deal with something like that.
Nick wanted so much to take her in his arms and just hold her tight. Tell her everything would be all right from here on out. But of course, he couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be professional and Collin freaking Hastings was sitting three feet away, watching them like the hawk that shared his soul.
“Well, my boss will be pleased to hear that,” Nick said instead, backing away from her. He needed space to think clearly.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, surprising him.
“Uh…” Nick tried to think fast. “We’ll be going over schedules and assignments.” He gestured toward Collin, who had retaken his seat at the kitchen island. “I believe your public relations people had you scheduled for a dress fitting. Something about choosing a gown for an upcoming awards show.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sal didn’t look too cheerful at that idea. “They want me to wear some designer label and borrowed diamonds. I’m going to push that off for a day or two. Is it okay if I just stay here for today? I mean, I don’t want to impose on you, but I don’t think I can face that house again right now, and I’ve already been through one move. It’s not as easy and fast as they lead you to believe.”
“Well, that answers one of my questions. You want to move out of that house.” Nick nodded in approval. The rented mansion was too hard to secure against a feral shifter. That had already been proven.
“Yeah. After last night, I just won’t feel safe there. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I was actually going to try to convince you to leave there. Our perimeter was already breached once. The place isn’t secure enough for the situation you’re in right now.” Nick frowned when he saw her expression turn fearful. He shouldn’t have reminded her of her problems. “You’re doing the right thing. We’ll find you a place that’s easier to secure while Collin and his team track down our perp and make certain he doesn’t bother you again.”
“You can do that? I mean, I thought the police…”
“We assist the police from time to time,” Hastings put in. “In this sort of case, they couldn’t provide the kind of coverage you’d need, and they probably don’t have the manpower to follow every lead, the way we do. But don’t worry, we’ll interface with the officials, and we won’t do anything to put you in jeopardy legally. Everything we do will be above board and according to the law.”
Nick personally thought Hastings was taking a few liberties with the truth as Sal would understand it, but he didn’t say anything. It was pretty clever, though. Hastings would do everything according to the law that governed shifters. The laws handed down by the Lords and the Mother of All. He wasn’t technically lying, though Sal probably understood his words to reference the laws of man, which had little effect on those shifters that lived in secret among humans.
“Feel free to stay right here as long as you like,” Nick put in helpfully.
Frankly, he wouldn’t mind if she stayed with him for the rest of their lives, but he was getting ahead of himself. He had to remember to take things slow. She was human, after all.
“All right, then.” She turned to head back toward the guest room. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out in twenty minutes if you need me for anything.”
“Take your time. We have lots of planning to do,” Hastings told her.
Nick was momentarily struck speechless at the idea that she was going to take a shower. Naked. Wet and soapy. Slick. Warm. Luscious.
Damn.
“Earth to Nick. Come in, Nick. Over.”
Nick looked over to find Hastings chuckling at his own little joke.
“Kindly stow it. Sir.”
Nick went to the refrigerator and was sorely tempted to pull out an ice cold beer, but it was too early in the morning. Even for him. He opted for a bottle of cold water, instead. Maybe the icy bite of the water hitting his system would help cool him down.
For the next half hour, Nick discussed all the facets of the operation with Hastings that couldn’t be talked about in front of his guest. He kept one ear on the hallway, alert to any sound that might indicate she was coming back into the living room.
Nick did his very best not to think about all that hot water, and the suds… Oh, man. The suds. Slicking down over her wet skin.
Yeah. He cleared his throat. He really had to focus on the task at hand. Right now, that was the perpetually smirking hawk shifter in front of him. Fucking Hastings, man. He could read between the lines. The man wasn’t stupid, after all. He’d be of no use to Nick or Sal if he were.
But it made his inner cat’s back arch in discomfort to know this relative stranger could read him so easily. The beginning of a courtship was a delicate time for any shifter, when the protective instincts of his animal nature were riled up, even more so than usual. It was all about protecting the mate.
From danger. From feral shifters, in this particular case. And even from Hastings and all the other men assigned to watch her. That they watched—and perhaps had covetous thoughts about her—was driving kitty mad.
It didn’t help that half the male population of the United States, if not the world, had seen her in the movies. A good portion of them had probably lusted after her. Fantasized about her.
Not good. Not good at all. The cat wanted to scratch all their eyes out and piss on their innards for lusting after his mate.
Nick would have to get a grip on his jealousy if he was going to have any chance of a relationship with Sal. She was a movie star. There was no way to put that genie back into the bottle. He’d have to suck it up, or move on. And giving up wasn’t in his vocabulary.
Time for the sucking to begin.
And just on that rather loaded thought, he heard her door click open followed by the soft patter of her feet on the carpet. Hastings heard it, too, and their discussion immediately shifted to more general topics.
Hastings left a short while later, already on the case. Nick knew he was going to arrange for more coverage of the building from his people—both in the air, and on the ground. The task was made simpler by the fact that Sal had decided to stay put for the day.
Nick offered to make her breakfast, but she declined, opting instead for a cup of tea and an orange. He hoped she wasn’t one of those women who never ate. He liked her figure and all, but she was too skinny. He worried about hurting her when they got around to intimacy. He’d have to be super careful with her.
Of course, she probably kept herself so thin because of the movie career. He’d heard it said that the camera added pounds, and most of the starlet wannabes were rail thin in person, though they looked normal on film.
Sal wasn’t that bad. Not like some of the walking skeletons he’d seen since arriving in Los Angeles. Sal had curves. Luscious ones. But she was also thin by shifter standards. Maybe it was because she was human. Nick hadn’t really been involved with that many human women in his time. Mostly, he cavorted with shifter women, who had more meat on their bones and could take a hard loving. He’d have to tread carefully until he knew what Sal could handle and what she liked.
But he didn’t mind. He’d do anything for her.
She just didn’t know it yet.