Tooth and Claw (Within the Shadows #2)

Chapter One

Once upon a darkened night

“ S top googling yourself,” the bored, flat voice ordered, as if she could do nothing but immediately obey his demands. “Wallowing and pouting is beneath you and, frankly, pretty unappealing.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she shot back sharply, her guilty fingers freezing from their soundless tapping on her phone. “Besides, who says I’m even doing that?”

Years ago, when she first got into the business, her agent had told her to never, ever set up alerts for her own name on her phone. Better for her peace of mind. If the media said something she needed to know, her agency would be sure to convey the message. But sometimes the temptation to search herself was too great and she succumbed. An actress out of the public eye was forgotten like last week’s trash unless, of course, her disappearance was due to scandal. The press and public ate that shit up. Unfortunately.

“You get a sneaky look in your eyes, and then you curl up away from everyone, so we can’t see what you’re doing.” An exasperated sigh escaped him, followed by the soft thud of his foot hitting the floor as he rearranged himself.

The bored sound echoing through the room made her want to throw her phone at him. Who was he to sigh at her as if she were the problem?

“But we’re not idiots. We all know what you’re doing.” We referred to her 24/7 security team. None of them were quite as underfoot as this one, though.

Snorting, Ravyn mumbled, “Debatable.” Out of the corner of her eye, the outline of another eye appeared on her dark phone, watching her, before slowly blinking closed and going dark once again.

Damn. She had seen that, right?

Refraining from simply crushing her phone in her hand, she flipped the phone over without giving herself a chance to find out if the reflection was her own eye, a figment of her imagination—or something more sinister.

Not enough , Ravyn decided immediately. Shoving her phone under the throw pillow she lay curled against as if trying to resist temptation, she nonchalantly eased her legs down so she wasn’t quite so turned away from the rest of the room. There. It could no longer see her if, in fact, it even looked at her. After centuries of living, she despised this helpless feeling, this feeling that someone or something could be watching her unaware. How could you battle something you couldn’t even see? That, apparently, was the question of this century.

Sitting in a chair across from her, still hidden by a newspaper and not even bothering to look over or around the paper, he dryly informed her, “Your fans will hardly forget you within a few weeks.” One foot crossed over a knee again; he didn’t even deign to meet her eyes when he issued this particular proclamation as he flipped a page in the thin paper.

She knew from observing him over the past few months that the paper came from some place in Missouri that she’d never heard of but arrived weekly no matter what their current address was. Perhaps it was picked up on a weekly run, one that included picking up her subsistence. Didn’t he know he could read the news online? Anything of importance anyway.

This time, she was unable to resist the urge to throw something at him. The pillow flattened the newspaper against his still hidden face, and Ravyn smiled in satisfaction when she heard another tiny sigh escape him. This was followed by the unsettled jostling of his crossed foot before it abruptly cut off movement. Knowing that he knew her irritation at least briefly brought her a childish sense of satisfaction that Ravyn knew she should be well above. Removing the pillow and tossing it next to his chair, he folded the newspaper in half and then half again and again with crisply executed motions, before tossing the mess of wrinkled paper onto the floor next to the pillow. Setting both feet firmly on the floor, he leaned forward, placing an elbow on each knee as he leaned toward her.

His face, smooth and devoid of emotion, settled on her. “You have my attention now. Is there something you need to say or tell me? Otherwise, I might misunderstand such childishness. So please”—he waved a hand outward— “please continue. What might I possibly do for you, Princess?”

He wasn’t as unaffected as he attempted to appear, though. After weeks with him, she knew his shifter heartbeat better than her own slow thumping. It was always fast, but right now its siren song thumped through her head even faster than normal.

“I don’t think Oliver pays you to call me names,” Ravyn said, knowing she was behaving childishly and hating herself for it. Never in all her many, many years had she been stuck in one place for so long. She was just so incredibly bored. And a bored vampire was a dangerous vampire, or at least that was what her captors—er, guards—should consider. Staring up at the wall, she strained her eyes to count the points on the patterned border around the room.

“First, Oliver doesn’t pay me at all; we’re partners. Second, I’m not calling you names; I’m stating a few facts.” Sebastian stared at her as if he could figure her out. “Besides, you call me names all the time.”

“Thor? Isn’t that your name?” Ravyn smiled, losing count of the points on the wall, even though she’d counted them many times over the past few months. Needling the wolf shifter was better than counting. Knowing and hating how silly she was acting; she was unable to stop. So, he did notice she called him that; she’d been doing so for months now and he acted as if she was saying his name correctly the entire time. But come on; tall, super build, a jawline that could cut glass and curly, blond hair? His mother should have just named him Thor at birth.

That sharp jawline clenched tightly; she’d been doing that a lot to him lately. “You know as well as I do that the threats out there mean we need to hang tight for a while. Unless, of course, you want me to call Oliver and get approval for something else.” Sebastien let that threat simmer in the air for a second. “Besides, you have plenty to do here, or I can get the pup to come play a card game with you or run some lines here in your gilded cage.”

“You wouldn’t dare call Oliver,” Ravyn hissed, feeling her fangs threaten to descend at the wolf shifter’s blasphemy. Her progeny was finally out of his office and taking a well-deserved trip with his new girlfriend. They weren’t disturbing the two unless someone died.

How funny that sounded. Oliver’s girlfriend.

Ollie’s special friend? Partner? No, Sebastian was Oliver’s business partner, and it seemed wrong to rank his relationship with Eva that as well.

Oliver’s lover? No. Gross.

“Besides, I think he’s turned his phone off while they’re out of the country.” Traveling, enjoying life, having adventures went without saying, she thought with more than a smidgen of jealousy. “Besides you’re partners . Why would you ask his permission to let me out of my cage? Do you really want to tell him how bad it’s gotten?” Goddess, she was grouchy. Childish and grouchy… What a combination for a vampire.

“Nothing has gotten bad. The only thing bad right now is this waiting game. I won’t call Oliver,” Sebastian admitted with a growl deep from his chest, as if his wolf gave its agreement as well. “As if I don’t know he needs the break. And as if I wouldn’t know how to get a hold of my partner even with his phone off. How could I disturb him during this time with his new mate?”

Ravyn considered his words. Yes, Eva could be called Oliver’s mate. That seemed more acceptable than “girlfriend.” The confirmed bachelor had settled down quite nicely into domestic bliss. Hell, he even had part-time custody of an unpredictable, headstrong hellhound pup thanks to his new mate, Eva.

Yes, mate rolled off the tongue. She silently mouthed the word, trying it out. It fit. Mate , she purred in her head. Did Bash have a mate? Of course he didn’t, or he wouldn’t be here with her for weeks on end away from a beloved mate. Her throat rumbled in a low growl at the thought of him having someone else out there waiting for him. Damn, she’d been locked up here too long when she considered mate and the wolf in the same thought.

Despite having his hair pulled back in a smooth bun, Bash attempted to run a frustrated hand through it.

Frustration, brought on by yours truly , Ravyn thought guiltily.

He muttered a curse. “Fenrir! Princess, you try my patience.” Pushing up from his chair, Sebastian paced the room, pausing at the windows that overlooked the cityscape, most likely his own animal begging to be let out. He wasn’t the picture of calmness that he appeared. The waiting game was playing on him as well.

For a moment, Ravyn felt a bit of guilt. She was better than this juvenile facade, and she knew better than anyone what was at stake. At stake? Eva would like that one. Although an overused vampire pun, it had come out naturally enough. But for Thor to use the name of his wolf creator as a curse meant that he wasn’t happy with the current situation either. Or perhaps it was a prayer to him? Either way, it didn’t bode well for the current situation. Knowing she wasn’t alone in this frustrating waiting game helped her a bit— not much, but a bit.

Being trapped in a 6,000-square-foot apartment floor with every amenity possible was hardly a chore and despite the complaints she made, she did know if was for her own safety. Her boredom didn’t compare to the ennui of the man’s wolf, which certainly chaffed to be let out to run. Sebastian had spent all his time in the city the last few months since the threats had escalated. That couldn’t be good for an animal that needed to run and hunt. His sacrifice was more than hers, she reluctantly admitted to herself.

Maybe. Probably. Instead of staying in her apartment, perhaps it was time to move homes for a bit again. Shake things up. Maybe they could find a house in suburbia with a small yard? Even if the wolf couldn’t come out there, the man could feel the grass and dirt beneath his feet. Although more than likely it would be turf and sand; probably not a feasible way to ground oneself.

“There are no lines to run or practice.” He was referring to his earlier suggestion.

No scripts meant no lines.

“I’m worried they’ll forget me.” Ravyn said the words softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear her or the vulnerability in her voice, especially considering it was mostly a lie. Worry about being forgotten was a fear, but Ravyn knew the ambiguity of her statement meant “they” could be interpreted as her fans and co-workers when, in fact, she hated being left behind by Oliver, even if she complained about his constant meddling in her life.

“As if…” Sebastian humphed, glancing back as he paced from wall to window, stretching his arms overhead, exposing a tiny bit of his tanned skin above his hips for a moment before twisting his neck back and forth, easing out the kinks that came from too much time spent in one position. A Celtic tattoo peeked out from his collarbone as he stretched, then he rearranged his simple white tee before she could focus on it for too long.

Snap. A bird rammed into the window grabbing both of their attention before it fluttered away stunned. The building was a magnet for confused birds.

“You don’t know that. This industry—the fans, the directors, the paparazzi—all of them are fickle. If you aren’t in their face, they forget you for the next up and coming thing. I’m not ready to be forgotten this lifetime. Even if I were in the news for being missing from the public eye, it’s better than nothing.” It wasn’t a lie that she was focused on the public attention; however, it was a lie or, as she liked to tell herself, an exaggeration that she cared much about it. Focusing on that unimportant drivel allowed her to occupy her mind with things other than what was truly bothering her.

Silence.

Her supernatural stalker had been silent in the weeks following Eva’s rescue from his warlock minions. It was assumed that he needed to regroup since he’d lost the powerful mage who more than likely was behind most, if not all, of the ward breaches. And whatever secondary magic had soured and boosted the deranged mage had been quiet as well. Regrouping or giving up? After all that had occurred, it seemed impossible that the stalker was giving up.

The hellhounds he’d forced to track and terrorize Eva were gone, free to return with their pup to the underworld. The minor witches who had been killed alongside their leader might not have been too much of a threat, but they were still bodies and servants gone from his service, hopefully leaving him weak, vulnerable, exposed.

Goddess knew that Ravyn herself was sick of feeling this way and wished he received tenfold the suffering. Then, and only then, would she gleefully rip his throat out and bathe in his blood. Shuddering a little in anticipation of that moment, Ravyn hardly noticed when Sebastian turned away from the window to watch her.

When had he opened the drapes? She’d closed them earlier when she first came in despite the tint allowing just a trickle of the fall sunlight to filter through, something she normally enjoyed. But she’d closed them against the reflection, the possibility of a face looking back at her that wasn’t her own. The light filtered through in one, two, three, four, five, six spots. Ravyn wanted to maim and kill whoever had broken through her sanctuary, threatening her well-earned peace.

“They’ll wait for you,” he murmured, breaking her mental revelry of ripping apart the faceless, nameless entity who stalked and threatened her. “If not this lifetime, then the next.”

Wordlessly, Bash handed her a spiced wine-and-blood mixture, which she took with a small nod and grateful smile. Apparently, it was meal time again, but the day had gotten away from her as she mindlessly scrolled the internet. “They’ll wait,” he ascertained firmly before he released the glass.

For a moment, Ravyn had forgotten who he was talking about. Oh yes, her public. The public whose adoration she claimed to want and need. Her mind was adrift, but she needed to keep her focus if she expected her deviations from the truth to remain believable.

“Not that you’re worried about them.” Scrunching his face, Sebastian considered her words and actions. He examined her so intently she feared he read her mind. Perhaps he did; nothing about this damn wolf surprised her anymore.

“Don’t presume to tell me my mind, Thor,” Ravyn retorted sharply, raising her chin in a futile attempt to look down her nose at the wolf looming above her as she settled her meal against her lips.

“As if,” muttered Sebastian, brown eyes gazing toward the heavens as if pleading to his own gods for mercy. “Princess, do you think I’ve not noticed you’ve either covered or broken every mirror in this place? Or that you cover any reflective surface the minute you enter a room?” A pointed look at the window confirmed that he’d opened the blinds on purpose. “You don’t even hold your wine glass between sips, probably because you’re either afraid of your own reflection or of what you might see there.”

This wolf was observant, clearly one reason why Oliver trusted him with half his business as well as her safety. However, if Oliver knew the elicit thoughts she’d been having about Bash, he definitely would have pulled him from the detail, partners or not.

The silence grew heavy between the two, and Ravyn looked away from Sebastian’s dark, inquisitive eyes, afraid he might see the truth in hers. Couldn’t he just leave her in peace? But no, nothing could be kept secret. The air between them grew as thick and heavy as the silence for several moments, while Ravyn studied a throw pillow on the end of the sofa, refusing to respond at all.

“Ah, I see. Why did it take this long to put it together? You’re not afraid of what you’ll see, but what might see you?” The air nearly snapped as the anger and heat sizzled off him with his realization.

“Ravyn, gods above! Has the bastard found another way in already? We’ve been sitting on our asses watching and waiting and you’ve not said anything. We can’t do our jobs if you aren’t honest with us. I… I can’t even begin to know or guess what you’re thinking. Why wouldn’t you tell us immediately? And why in all the hells isn’t the over-the-top, expensive-as-hell, magical security system that is supposed to be so great keeping him out?”

The three scrunched wrinkles between his eyes only appeared when he was angry or frustrated. Ravyn nearly had them memorized. One, two, three. He would probably snap if she touched them, yet they still called to her to smooth them away.

It took Ravyn a moment to recognize the feeling building in the pit of her stomach and moving up through her chest.

The uncomfortable sensation of guilt.

She’d known that the team would want to know, and should know, about the vexatious feelings of being watched through the mirrors. The eye or eyes that would stare at her unblinking through the reflective area of a serving tray or the darkness that swam through the windows, searching and following her every movement. But a small part of her thought the feelings were the result of paranoia, that the glimpses out of the corner of an eye were her fears and imagination coming to life. She just hadn’t been sure.

Pulling her knees to her chin, Ravyn wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to find a way to articulate what she’d felt and sensed and why she hadn’t told them yet. Yes, she’d planned to tell them soon, once she knew for sure. Her only excuse for not telling them was that after a few millennia, she was just used to taking care of herself. Despite Ollie’s constant need to offer her protection, it was entirely unnecessary; or at least in the past it had been.

Her fingers tapped one at a time against her thumb. One, two, three, four. Other hand. Five, six, seven, eight. Repeat.

Ravyn allowed Oliver’s security because it simply made things easier. But ease made one inattentive, and in this world letting your guard down was akin to being killed—or worse, discovered. She hadn’t lived this long due to the protection of others. During the times she and Oliver had traveled together, they’d trusted and relied on each other to remain hidden in plain sight, but as the times changed, Oliver considered sentinels the same level of protection, if not better than friends and comrades. He’d apparently forgotten that for years she’d relied on no one, and that he was neither the first nor the last companion with whom she would travel. Obviously, she’d let him win the battle, but at what cost? Her edge had softened, and someone obviously considered her weak enough to stalk, kidnap, and torture her friends. Maybe it was easier to simply pack up and start over with a new name and identity somewhere far, far away.

The ten years that Oliver’s security detail had been attached to her in Hollywood was a blink of an eye for her. In public, his security remained hidden from all prying eyes, but she knew they were there. They allowed the facade of human security to push her past the crowds, open doors for her, and be the face of protection. But her real security was a mixture of vampires and wolf shifters who blended into the shadows in public and took up residence in whatever building she made her accommodations in.

Shrugging a slender shoulder at the enraged wolf who fought to keep his anger controlled wasn’t answer enough. She knew that such a disrespectful answer would enrage her if she herself had received that as an answer. Ravyn waited a breath as Sebastian smoothed his blond hair back, pausing to compose himself and consider her non-response. Mesmerized, she watched as he removed his ponytail, letting down what she mentally called his Thor locks.

He meticulously smoothed the unruly waves into submission before twisting them back into a bun. Delay. He delayed before responding. Ravyn recognized the technique used to lull a mark into thinking things were going differently than they were. She used it a lot.

Sebastian’s hooded eyes never left Ravyn’s as he completed his task, ending with smoothing the already smooth tresses once again. Lips tightly smashed together; his jawline clicked as he refrained from speaking to her. If she were a gambling woman, she would bet he was holding back from throttling her. She wasn’t, of course; what a waste of time.

She sipped cautiously from her wine mixture—and yes, he’d correctly ascertained that she didn’t once look into the glass and also set it down an arm’s length away from her. It didn’t occur every time; in fact, seldom did an eye stare back at her, but it did happen.

“Thor, it’s just glances, hints, if you may, over the past few days.” Ravyn felt herself faltering and forced the words to come forward; this was the price she’d promised if she were to remain in Hollywood. Years ago, Oliver had agreed to this separation. A farce, really, but she had to agree to his own security detail, and she had promised. A woman’s word was nothing if she couldn’t keep a promise to an old, dear friend. “I’ve not been sure. Sometimes, I feel like I’m being watched, but nothing like the attack on opening night earlier this year. I just haven’t been certain, and it seemed ridiculous to alarm anyone just because…”

Earlier in the year, Ravyn had attended the opening night of her newest movie, and to be honest, she’d already forgotten which movie it was. She loved acting and throwing herself headfirst into new roles, but by the time a new one came along, the last was all but forgotten as she repeated the cycle. But that particular night, she’d been physically and mentally assaulted by whatever creature had been leaving her “gifts.” This stalker had broken past human and paranormal security to leave her trinkets such as jewelry and flowers until it escalated into small dead animals and finally to human body parts! Then the night of the premiere, a full out assault on her senses occurred under everyone’s watchful eye.

Everything had changed that night. That was the night she met Sebastian Moldover face to face. She had, of course, exchanged emails with the head of Oliver’s security teams and even phone calls with him as needed, but he’d largely remained hidden and out of sight. In fact, Ravyn had assumed he could be anywhere in the world managing his teams while they protected their clients. But that night, he’d been there.

Immediately, Sebastian had seen her distress when the entity had taunted and touched her while whispering dark threats in her ear. Caressing her intimately and unseen in front of the public as well as the cameras, he’d caused her to panic, to stumble. And like a white knight, Sebastian had swooped in, giving her an arm to lean on and leading her to safety while maintaining her dignity. Despite all the chaos, visible to no one and felt only by her, her first thought had been of her perfectly honed career. Falling or falling apart in public was akin to career suicide.

Headlines would flash: “Diva Does Drugs” or “Drunk Diva Diving in Public” or some other horrible lie that would spin her as an out of control and soon to be out of work actress. She could compel a few people to forget lies and even go as far as print a retraction, but the public… the public perception was a different beast. No matter how much good one did, they would much rather see a train wreck and then glory in the carnage.

At first, she’d thought Sebastian a Viking from days gone by. A large warrior with golden locks stepping out of time to swoop down on her, protecting her from this unseen threat.

A whispered code word brought her out of that state of confusion, reminding her that her hidden security surrounded her and as always stood at the ready to head off any dangers. Raising her chin high as she straightened up to the entirety of her five feet three, she’d taken the offered arm as support. Managing to regally enter the theater where her human security kept others at arm’s reach, she’d silently regained her composure before Sebastian led her to her seat, taking the one nearest her and leaving her “date” to find another spot. Sebastian had kept most others away, except for the bravest, by staring them down whenever they dared to approach her throughout the evening. Only those she wished to speak to approached her.

After that evening, her former boy band “date” hadn’t called to ask for another date, or at least her people hadn’t passed on that his people had reached out. But Sebastian had stayed, and stayed, and stayed, moving out of the shadows and becoming a permanent fixture in her life. From unseen to always seen and always underfoot. During the early weeks when she still left her apartment, paparazzi had snapped pictures of the two, hinting at some sort of secret romance with a bodyguard. But as time passed, aside from the one night, the arm’s length propriety had snapped firmly in place, leaving that particular bit of gossip to dry up.

Now it appeared that all gossip pertaining to her had dried up as soon as her appearances stopped. Her last movie had wrapped up filming weeks ago, and Ravyn was taking what she called a well-earned break, but deep down she knew she was simply hiding out. At one time she might have been considered the greatest horror of all time; now she was a coward.

A coward.

“You’re not a coward,” Sebastian spat at her. “You’re anything but that. Reckless, headstrong, careless, but not a coward.”

Ravyn shut her eyes briefly. Had she said that out loud? “Thor, you flatter me with your words. Careful, or it may all go to my pretty little head.”

Bash shook his head gently at her, as if he saw right through her cheapened words. Pulling up his phone, he called an offsite team member and with short, terse words ordered another sweep of Ravyn’s building as well as another ward reinforcement.

As if it will help, Ravyn thought bitterly, knowing that once more they were on the offense…

And she was prey.