DJ straddled the motorcycle as makeup did their last additions. They’d altered the helmet and part of the design obstructed her view, but at least they were letting her wear a helmet this time. Since there was no chance that Rebecca Shay would be making an appearance for her scene today, they decided to improvise with the costume a bit. The director wanted as much shot at once as was humanly possible. After four movies, she was more than used to his accelerated scheduling for the stunt crew.

“Remember, when you land, you need to skid around and stare at camera three. Once it reaches your head, do a Shay tilt of your head and rock back into the seat.” The AD spat out her last-minute notes while she checked her gear and costume for loose buckles or anything else that could gum up her stunt.

“Got it. Do my thing, swing around, eye camera three, and do a cocky tilt to my head, Shay-style once I get the signal.”

“Perfect.” He grinned and backed away.

Movement outside the field of intense lights caught her eye. She didn’t have to look closely to recognize her stunt coordinator’s movements. Douglas Mack tapped his ear piece. “We go live in fifteen, DJ.” His voice soothed her nerves the way it always did. “Let’s get this over with so we can light some stuff on fire.”

She laughed as she tightened the strap of the helmet under her chin. “You mean light yourself on fire, don’t you? Did you double check the mix, this time, Mack?”

“Of course. Pyro is on their game today. You were a little loose in the third turn. Tighten it up and do a little pony show when you do the ninety turn. You want so sling some debris and tear up the ground a little, if you can.”

“Got it.” She took his notes, ticking them off in her head. They were going to shoot the first run through all the way through, complete with explosions and chase sequences. She stopped her mind from jumping ahead to the next set of stunts. Focus only on the next scene. Mack’s words stuck in her head like a mantra.

“Stunt team, get ready.” The AD yelled.

All the lights came on and the tension coiling in her stomach burst free with a surge of adrenaline. She grinned inside the helmet as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her hands tightened on the grips.

“Chase scene 21, take one. Action!”

DJ gunned the bike and shot forward, burning smoke behind her. The roar of her bike and the burst of speed shot her a little too far and she adjusted immediately, settling into the calm space her mind fell into when she rode a tough stunt.

She hit the concrete sidewalk and followed the path, swerving as the team went through their coordinated attacks. Duck, lean right, fire her pistol at the gas tank, back in the holster, left, straight. The scene blurred past her as explosions rocked behind her. Heat blanketed her and then she was through. She took the third turn with a little more finesse than earlier and finished the run with a launch into the air and hard landing. The AD’s words stuck in her mind and she let the rear wheel break through, sliding to a profile stop in front of the camera. She cursed in her head, realizing she was a little short of the mark. Her left foot came down onto the ground. She rocked back in the seat and stared at the red light of the camera.

“Head tilt in 5-4-3-2-1.” The AD’s voice came over her headset. When they got to one, she tilted her head the way he’d mentioned and grinned inside her helmet. Her nerves were still on fire, but she knew she’d nailed the take. Of course, that didn’t mean anything since the director called the shots.

“Cut.”

She breathed slowly and sat quietly, waiting for the next direction. They may want to get a second shot of her coming toward camera three. Or they may have to shoot the sequence again.

“They’re taking the first cut. Pull it in team.” Mack’s voice was edged in a way that told her they’d screwed up somewhere.

Costumes was already pulling the helmet off her head and she parked the bike where it was. The crew would move it to the next shoot location.

As the helmet pulled free, cool air rushed over her flushed skin. She ran a hand through her short hair and handed over the other pieces of costume flair they needed to collect before she moved to the next scene.

The team rushed over and encircled her. Mack came forward with a man who set her body sizzling in a way that had nothing to do with explosions and everything to do with appreciation for men in the tall, dark, and rugged variety. He wore a polo shirt that bore a fire department logo. Mr. Rugged handed her a water and she took it with a grateful smile.

“That was a badass run.” He grinned at her with a too-bright light in his gaze.

“Thanks.”

“DJ, your final pull was too short. The camera adjusted, but they may reshoot that later with Shay.”

She nodded, clicking her tongue quietly in irritation at herself. She’d missed the mark, after all.

“Rodriguez, when they shoot the close up, make sure your arm comes up higher. The machete didn’t show up as well.”

Mack continued his critique with curt notes. Meanwhile the crew was already adjusting for the next stunt, moving equipment and gear into place with rapid efficiency.

“Everyone, this is Ren. He’s our fire safety officer.”

She nodded as he gave a curt nod in return. Hazel eyes watched her with an intensity she was tempted to return. His chin held the tiniest ghost of a five-o’clock shadow. The question was, why was Mack introducing this guy? The FSO and the medics were always on the sidelines. Was Mack training her to take over more responsibilities or something?

“Nice to meet you all. My team is ready for the next stunt. Who holds the extinguishers?” Two of her team raised their hands. “Come with me, then.” He grinned at her. “Break a leg on the next run.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Thanks.” He grinned and strode away, suddenly all business. She took a moment to appreciate a man in tight-fitting slacks. If he was in uniform, she was a fan.

Mack dismissed them. They were splitting off into different teams for other locations. “Hey Rod, why did he introduce him to us?” Alex Rodriguez was her sparring partner and had been around Mack long before she came on the scene.

“He’s one of us.” He wiggled his eyebrows and howled softly.

A shifter, huh? Too bad they were working together, because she wouldn’t mind catching another whiff of that after shave he wore. Being a co-worker on set made Mr. Rugged with hazel eyes definitely off limits.

“Let’s move to the next scene.” Mack rushed them off and DJ and Rod made their way to the area where Rod’s character tried to kill her in the chase sequence. The bike, crew, and costumes waited for them. “Ready to try and chop my head off with a machete?”

“You know it.” He grinned. A little fang showed, but he settled immediately into the role.

In a few moments, they were back at it again. And for the next four hours of close-up stunt work and film shots, she couldn’t shake the feeling that those sexy eyes from the fireman were watching her every move.

Ren eyed the structure they planned to set on fire. His men had already confirmed the stability and set up. Pyro was ready to do their thing, and he had his safety crew on standby. The extinguishers had already been checked.

They were wrapping Mack in a strange material and covering him in goop that should prevent his skin from being burned. The old shifter grinned at him through his scruffy beard. “Won’t that burn?” He gestured toward the man’s facial hair.

“Nah, I’ve done this a thousand times, kid.” He coughed a bit. “Don’t rush in unless you have to. We don’t want to lose the shot.”

“I’ll move if I think you’re in danger.” He’d been lectured enough by the man over the past few hours that he knew to ignore most of it. Mack cared about the movie and making sure every shot counted. Ren cared about saving the ass of anyone who was in danger. Their heads had butted once already over it.

“You’re a pain in the ass. Quit hovering.”

Ren was following protocol. He knew his team had delayed filming by an hour when they inspected the pyrotechnic setup, but the mixes were at a dangerous level for this scene. Mack may be a shifter, but he could still die if blown to bits by an over enthusiastic explosive maniac. The AD was livid, but the director was calm yet obviously annoyed about it. Now Mack was riding his ass, too. This was his first film job, and he doubted he’d be asked back.

Mack went to his position and Ren verified the position of his firemen. They were ready. He nodded to the director and the man started the ball rolling. Fire blazed in the structure and Ren had to clench his fists against the urge to run to the truck and suit up. As FSO of this film, he had to stay on the sidelines, and that annoyed him a lot more than he expected.

They lit Mack on fire. He rushed into the dead space they’d left for him. Fire licked its way around his body and a secondary explosion rocked the building, knocking Mack to his knees. A strange scent hit Ren’s nose. It immediately burned his nostrils, forcing his eyes to water. The stuntman shoved up and ran toward the open ground, falling to his stomach and lying there for a few twitches. Immediately, the blanket crew and fire extinguishers were on him.

Ren smelled scorched flesh and something he’d hoped to never smell again...a shifter on the edge of death. His feet moved before he could think. He raced across the set and leapt over a small barricade. “Medic!” The gurney was rushing toward them, and he hit the ground next to Mack. The man’s eyes were slitted, showing the edge of change. Ren’s instincts took over and he hit the man with the scent of his Alpha wolf, forcing the other to submit. If Mack shapeshifted on camera, the old man would have a fit. There was also the cameras and witnesses to consider.

“Hey, Mack. Focus on my voice.” He was talking quickly, trying to touch the human part of him before he lost it. The man struggled, but forced himself back to human. His eyes cleared. “Gato, Mira, Michaels, find out where that secondary explosion came from. Figure out what was in it. This guy has pieces of stuff embedded in his face. Rogers, Davila, get that fire under control.” His team moved like a well-oiled machine. Mack’s skin still burned and the scent from his flesh burned Ren’s eyes and nose. He noticed no one else seemed affected.

They got Mack on the gurney while the fire was brought down.

“Who the hell do you think you are—” the AD began. His eyes watered and a brutal cough erupted from his chest.

Ren gripped the man’s arm and popped him on the back a few times until the cough subsided. “I want your pyro supervisor in front of me immediately. After that, get that cough checked by the medic. You may have caught something in your lungs from this explosion.”

The AD waved him off and stumbled away while the director moved the crew to allow for an ambulance to back in.

“Mack—” DJ, the stuntwoman of few words, ran toward them. He could smell her fear, her anger, the panic in her throat.

He stopped her before she could reach him and pitched his voice to hit her ears alone. “He’s a split second away from turning. Get your panic under control.”

She shoved him away and glared at him. “I’m not panicking.” Her scent calmed, but anger rushed through her at a rate that intoxicated him. She recovered quickly.

“They’re taking him to the hospital. Do you have a doc you guys use?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s only broken his arm once and refused to go to the hospital then. We usually get stitched up on set or take the doc’s we get from the ER. Why?”

“He’s going to need something a little more specialized.” He took out his phone and dialed a number he never hoped to use again.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“It must be real bad for you to call me, son.” His aunt’s voice seemed amused.

“I have a situation in Dallas. Looks like the same stuff from Houston.” When he was a kid, he’d gone on a trip with his aunt to help a group of shifter teenagers who’d been poisoned by silver. Most of them had died, and he never wanted to see it again.

“Fly or drive?” He could hear her throwing things into a bag.

“Whatever’s fastest. I’ll text the hospital info to you as soon as I get it.”

“Don’t let them do anything until I get there.”

He couldn’t tell her that they may not have that long. Not in front of the calm on the outside and turbulent on the inside stunt woman who stood trembling beside him. They strapped Mack to the gurney as his aunt ended the phone call. DJ rushed to his side and put her hand in his.

“I’ll be out in no-time, kid. Take care of things ‘til I get back.” The older man’s voice croaked.

“You got it.” They shooed her away and she stood there, tiny and tough, staring after the man as they took him to the ambulance.

“Take three hours,” the director called. His order was echoed, and the crew shut down immediately. “You,” he pointed to Ren, “with me. DJ!” He called.

She rushed to the director’s side.

“Find out what happened. I want a full incident breakdown. We’ll meet in half an hour.”

She nodded once.

“Get me pyro, now!” the director bellowed.

Ren followed the director, wondering if he’d done the wrong thing. Wrong thing or not, he was ready to back up his decision no matter what happened. You can’t put a price tag on a human life, and he’d stand by that.