“This is only going to work if you run full sprint through the corridor. We have exactly ten minutes to capture this before I lose the light I want for the shoot. The sunset is gorgeous. I wish you could see what I see through the lens. This is truly an epic shoot. Nothing like it.”

I nodded. “I’ve got this. Run with the stake, pass the columns, and jump into the fountain. Before we lose the sun,” I added.

Lance Franks nodded. His sandy blond hair shook around his ears. He had directed the last five episodes. He was new to the show, and this was the first time we had traveled to a foreign location. But he swore, we needed gothic European beauty for this scene.

Now that we were here, I believed him. Freychon was gorgeous. We’d be in town two days and I was already in love with the city. I couldn’t get over how beautiful everything was. Not that I didn’t love our studio in Atlanta, but there was something magical about this city.

I hadn’t really wrapped my head around the fact that we were traveling for the show now. Using the backwoods of Georgia wasn’t an option for Lance. He was a purist. A true artist.

With a more influential director came a bigger budget and more creative leeway from the studio. Our viewership had started with a small cult falling, and a year later we were the highest-rated show on television.

“Ready, G?” he asked, squaring a glimpse of the setting sun between his hands.

“Ready. Let’s do it.” I smiled.

I clutched the wooden stake in my hand, twisting my head to see my co-star behind me.

Tom grinned, showing his pointy teeth. He was the kind of actor who kept them in longer than necessary. He was method through and through. “You have to fun faster than me, Gennie.” He winked.

I’d been working with a new trainer for months. I was pretty sure I could kick Tom’s ass, no matter how many rippled muscles he had. In this scene, my job was to outrun him and his fangs. I had to save the ass-kicking for tomorrow when we tumbled in an ancient tomb under the church.

The stunts were low-key enough I could do them myself, but I prepared myself physically. It was grueling and exhausting.

“Action,” Lance called.

As soon as he said the word I pushed off the pavement and began to run. I sprinted with graceful steps, outrunning the vampire on my high leather boot’s heels. My wardrobe was tight leather, while Tom looked like he had hopped out of an Abercrombie spread.

Tom screamed for me to stop. I turned, feeling the adrenaline rush of the scene. He kept to the shadowed side of the corridor, while I focused on running in the light. It was part of the vampire lore. My character was trying to lure him into the sun, while at the same time he was trying to drag me back to the shadows.

The first time I had read the scene in Atlanta, I had fallen in love with it. The imagery. The light and dark symbolism. The sequence where I had to fight for my freedom. It was the perfect scene for the season finale. Perfect.

I only had a few more feet to run before I turned the corner and landed in the center of the fountain. I hurled myself forward, knowing Tom was within inches of catching me.

But as I rounded the stone building, the sun blinded me. The rays were over the roof, piercing my eyes. I squinted as the tears streamed down my face. Shit. I couldn’t see anything.

I kept running, hoping I could pull this off. We were losing the red and gold hues. I pushed forward. I had seen the fountain, so I knew there wasn’t far to go. I prayed I’d see it again if I could just adjust to the sun.

I launched my body, but immediately regretted it.

“Ouch,” I cried as I hit a solid wall of muscle. Instead of landing in the center of the fountain with a magical stake, I toppled into it taking a passerby with me. Shit. The scene was ruined.

My shoulder ached and my hair was drenched. What was left of my eye makeup ran down my cheeks.

“Fuck. What the hell?” the deep voice groaned underneath me.

I sputtered as the fountain water went up my nose, burning in places that felt horrible.

“Oh my God,” I moaned. I wasn’t sure if I had broken something or not. There was a slow burn in the upper part of my arm.

“Gennie, what happened?” Tom asked from the side of the fountain.

“Yeah, Gennie,” the stranger echoed.

I rubbed my eyes, making it harder to focus, but I caught a glimpse of sapphire blue eyes and dark wet hair.

I felt Tom’s arms circle me as he pulled me from the fountain and onto the cobblestones. Lance ran over, mixing swearing with concern. “Fuck, are you ok? Fucking shit. We’re done for the day. But how are you, G? Fuck me.”

I rubbed my arm. I hadn’t gotten my bearings. How had everything gone so wrong? I was running through the beautiful light and now I was a damaged drowned rat.

I spun as the man in a military uniform climbed from the fountain, stepping one drenched shoe and then another on the dry side of the ledge. He shook his hair, letting the water splay like he was some kind of sex god surfacing from the ocean. And holy hell. He might have been.

I tried not to gawk. I tried to keep my expression unreadable. I was used to actors. Tom was more popular than I was. Girls giggled every time he walked by, but he was nothing compared to the man I had tackled into the fountain.

“Your highness. Sir.” Two men rushed into the middle of our circle. “Are you all right? We need to call an ambi.”

I blinked. Did they say what I think they just said?

“I don’t need an ambi, but maybe she does.” He pointed to my arm.

Within seconds the men pulled out phones and called for an ambulance. I was still learning the Galonian slang.

“Someone should take a look at that.” It was as if the seas parted for him when he walked toward me. The crew backed out of the way, including Lance and Tom.

I blushed. “I think it’s ok.”

“Can you wiggle your fingers?” he asked.

I winced through the pain. “Sort of?”

“That’s it. I’m taking you myself.”

“Oh no, no, no,” I protested.

“It will be twenty minutes before an ambi is here. Charles, get the car. We’re taking Miss—”

“You are not going to take Gillian Sparks anywhere.” Tom must have found his balls. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Tom,” I spoke through clenched teeth. “Shut up.”

“We don’t know this guy. He could be a set stalker.”

“Set stalker?”

“Tom, he’s not a set stalker. Calm down for a second. We all need to calm down.”

Lance paced in a circle behind us. He mumbled something about trying to recreate the shoot tomorrow after the fight scene. He had already moved on from the current crisis. I realized that was a casualty of working with a creative genius. He didn’t spend much time in reality.

“Your highness, Charles is pulling up with the car now.”

I swallowed. I heard the words, but I still hadn’t processed them. This man was no Vampire Heart super fan. He was royal.