Something snagged her left ski, and she lost all control. The world flipped as she tumbled head over heels. Ow. Ow. Ow.
Then with the sneaky suddenness that dreams could sometimes have, the scene shifted and she landed in a sprawl in the living room of her small Malibu house. Through the open archway that led to her bedroom, she saw Julian lying in her bed.
The tangled sheets had fallen around his hips. She knew from memory every muscled bulge and hollow of his broad, scarred chest. Her heart started to pound as she stared at him. It’d been so long since they’d been together, so very long.
Could it be possible for skin to feel hungry? Her skin ached for the sensation of his rough, callused fingers.
His white-flecked dark hair tousled, he watched her with wolflike eyes. “Pick up your damn phone, will you?” he snapped.
He was such a killjoy. Furiously, she threw her phone at him, and he blurred to catch it. As she watched, Julian crushed the phone in one hand.
“Okay,” the director said. (Who was directing this film? Squinting, she tried to look past the bright set lights.) “We need just one more thing before we call it a wrap. Come on, Melly – give us one of your awesome screams. Wake up and don’t hold back, just let ’er rip.”
Obligingly, she tried to open her mouth to belt out a good one, but she still had her skiing helmet on with the chin guard strapped tight. Somebody had added a mouthpiece to it, and the whole thing was actually kind of making it hard to breathe.
As she struggled to get her hands free so she could tear off the mouthpiece, she discovered that she was wrapped in a straitjacket…
That couldn’t be right. They had finished the film with the straitjacket years ago.
What the hell?
Her eyes popped open.
Someone was carrying her over his shoulder, fireman-style. His body held a small frisson of Power that she identified immediately as Vampyre. Her head bobbed upside down. She had pinned her long, curly hair into a loose chignon, and it had slipped sideways over one ear. Strong, bouncing beams of light illuminated a rough stony hallway.
Not a hallway. A tunnel.
She was gagged, and her wrists and ankles were tied.
Panic struck. She erupted into wild struggles.
She almost managed to flip out of the strange male’s hold, but, swearing, he hoisted her into a more secure position and wrapped his arms around her thighs.
Someone bent over her and smacked her over the ear so hard her head rang. “Behave.”
Craning her neck, she stared up at a beautiful, young-looking woman with auburn hair. A very familiar woman, and a very old Vampyre, one of the most Powerful in the Nightkind demesne. Justine.
The wrongness of the situation rocketed around Melly’s mind. She had gone skiing, and had just returned to her Malibu home to get ready for her next shoot, when she remembered Justine had shown up on her doorstep. After that – nothing.
While she couldn’t talk physically, she could telepathically. Justine, she said tensely. What the fuck are you doing?
Justine petted her head then removed the gag. “There, there,” said the Vampyre. “Everything will probably be okay.”
Everything will probably be okay?
“What are you talking about!” Melly’s head ached, and she struggled to think past it.
There was no way she could have been prepared for this, none.
When she went out in public, she was usually attended by a guard or two, but her Malibu home was in a gated community with a good security system. Other actors and celebrities lived in the community, and normally, Melly felt perfectly safe there.
Normally, she would never have imagined someone like Justine would kidnap her. Justine had been on friendly terms with Melly’s mother, Tatiana, the Light Fae Queen, for a very long time, and she had made friendly overtures to Melly for years.
Justine straightened and said to the man, “Put her in this one.”
Melly looked around wildly as the man carried her into a cell, an honest-to-goodness dungeon-y cell that had been hewn out of rock with metal bars and a door fitted across the opening.
The man dumped her unceremoniously on the floor with such force, her hair slipped half out of its knot. She felt a couple of hairpins slide down her neck and drop into her top.
Breathing heavily, Melly almost planted her foot in the Vampyre’s face. She could have done it. She was fast enough, angry enough, and she’d certainly had her own fair share of training. Tatiana had insisted both her daughters learn self-defense.
But while she might be able to kick the shit out of Vampyre Guy, she knew she was no match for Justine, who leaned against the open cell door, watching. And she still hoped to get somewhere by talking.