Chapter Three
THE STUNT HARNESS DIGS into my ribs as I swing through the air, but I barely notice.
This is the part I love the most about my job, with gravity becoming optional as the world blurs into pure motion.
Twenty feet up, cables singing, my body knows exactly what to do even if my brain is still processing everything that happened three days ago.
“Cut! Perfect! That’s a wrap on the warehouse sequence!”
The riggers lower me down slowly, and I’m already unhooking myself before my feet fully touch the ground.
Around me, the crew bustles with the organized chaos of a film set switching between setups.
Lights being repositioned, cameras rolling to new marks, the constant dance I’ve been part of since I was eighteen and hired entirely on the strength of my background in martial arts.
”Over here, Sam!” Anastasia waves me over from where she’s waiting with our packed lunches. My roommate is seated with her legs tucked on a foldable chair, and even in jeans and a ratty hoodie, she looks like a fairytale princess with her long blond hair, soft blue eyes, and rosy complexion.
“How did I do?”
Anastasia flashes a thumbs-up sign, and I allow myself a quick grin while peeling off my gloves.
“That looks bad,” the other girl says with a wince when she notices the fresh rope burns.
“It will heal,” I assure her while reaching for my lunch, and oooh.
I take an appreciative sniff, and my heart sings. They say the way to a man’s heart is through a stomach, but mine’s got the same address, and it’s #1 Philly Cheese Sandwich Lane, Homemade Fries City, Zip Code: Garlic Parmesan Dip.
Thank You, God, for giving me a hearth goddess for a roommate.
Anastasia laughs when she sees me closing my eyes in bliss at the first bite. “You’re too easy to please.”
I can’t answer her, presently occupied as I am with a lot of chomping.
“Or should I use the past tense now—”
Flying without wings burns a lot of calories—
“Since you’ve finally found someone that meets your exceptionally high standards when it comes to dating?”
And that means I have every right to eat more than thrice a day—wait a minute, did Anastasia just say what?
I lower my sandwich just as Anastasia shows me her phone. “You’re trending, Sam.”
“What do you mean—” My words stutter to a stop when I catch a glimpse of the headlines.
Mystery Woman Flees Leopard King, Walks Into Post.
How in the world did they—
“And look—” Anastasia speed-scrolls before showing me another post. “Someone even made a gif of you stumbling—”
I can’t take it anymore, and my friend laughs when I snatch the phone out of her hand to take a closer look, and ugh.
It really is me in full HD glory and playing out my graceful escape attempt on endless loop. The comments range from sympathetic to savage, with a disturbing number of people asking why anyone would run from the Leopard King.
“This is insane,” I groan.
“Au contraire—”
I throw her a suspicious look. “Since when do you speak French?”
“Since I realize I’m about to have an honorary brother-in-law—” Anastasia takes her phone back to show me another post. “And I was saying, this is hilarious—”
A strangled gasp escapes me when I realize there’s already fanfic written about us, with thousands of reads...and counting!
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” she assures me cheerfully. “There’s this other one I found...”
I almost gag when her next post shows another made-up story, this time about me supposedly playing hard to get as a seduction strategy.
I throw my hands up in surrender. “Can we talk about something else? Anything but that? Please?”
“Sure thing.” But after pocketing her phone, Anastasia crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a look that makes me feel like squirming. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to be grilled by a detective for a crime I didn’t commit?
“How come you never told me you know the Leopard King?”
I stand corrected: it’s a crime I did commit, but unknowingly.
“Remember about that botched matchmaking attempt of my Papou?”
Her eyes widen. “You mean to say—”
I nod gloomily. “I never told you his name because it just...I just didn’t think it mattered. But at that time, I had no idea he wasn’t even human—”
“And you still didn’t, even after That Day,” she concludes with a sigh, “since you never really thought they were a big deal.”
“I’ve always believed in Big Foot—”
Anastasia chokes out a laugh. “I know you mean well, but I don’t think preters in general will appreciate hearing that.”
Oh. Okay. Really?
I look at Anastasia, remembering this time how she was raised by and knew of preters even before That Day. She’s the only person I know with any connection to that side of the world, so...
“Can I—”
“Ask me about the Leopard King?”
I nearly fall out of my chair. Unbelievable! Could the Leopard King have lied? Could Anastasia also have lied to me all this time? Was it possible that they could read minds and—
“Stop right there,” Anastasia says with a laugh.
“Stop what?”
“I can’t read your mind, okay? But your face, on the other hand...”
My face?
What does she mean—oh, right.
I make a face, and Anastasia laughs anew.
It pains me to admit this, but I’ve heard that more often than I wanted to ever since coming to work in Hollywood.
It’s actually cost me a stunt gig here and there because I can’t act for the life of me, and that’s kinda bad when a) I’m supposed to double for an actor and b) I have to pretend I’m acrophobic when the camera pans my way.
“So, the snow leopards huh?” Anastasia’s expression turns thoughtful. “They’re not a member of L’Alliance, for one.”
Really?
“I thought that wasn’t optional?”
“It always was, and that’s how it has to be since only bad things happen when you force any preter race to do something.”
“But why would they not want to join? Isn’t it, like, all pros and no cons?”
“I guess you can say they’re more like Caros that way?”
“I see.” I actually don’t, but I’d rather not reveal my ignorance.
“You don’t really see, do you?”
I grin sheepishly, and Anastasia rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Sam. You need to know more about preters, if only so you could protect yourself in case you’re attacked by a vampire.”
“But we live in one of the safest cities in America—”
“But not vampire-proof,” she says soberly. “There’s no such place these days.”
“I always have my anti-vampire spray from House Bellecourt if that helps?”
“It’s better than nothing, I suppose,” Anastasia allows with a wrinkle of her nose.
“So...” I try not to look a little too eager. “Anything else you can say about the snow leopards?”
“Don’t you mean Hexius?” she teases.
“You can’t blame me for being curious,” I say defensively. “He didn’t show an ounce of hesitation in rejecting me six years ago. But now, all of a sudden, he wants to marry me?”
“I’m actually rather surprised he was very...controlled about the entire situation. Shifters would normally go berserk if they find their prospective mate—”
Whoa. Who’s she calling a prospective mate?
“In a speed dating event—”
“You’re the reason I was there in the first place,” I protest.
“Correction: you were there because you lost a bet, and the bet was also your idea.”
Oh, right. It really bothers me sometimes when I see her looking all wistful over the foster brother she’s been in love with her entire life.
I honestly thought I could get her to join the speed dating thing to make her forget Stefano, but.
..what I didn’t foresee was me losing a bet because innocent-looking Anastasia is actually a pro in playing Texas Hold ‘Em.
Moral lesson: never judge a book by its cover...because the fairytale-looking-ones can actually be something that reads more like a gritty action-packed suspense.
“I asked him, you know,” I hear myself admit. “About why he rejected me in the first place.”
“Oh, Sam.” Anastasia gives my hand a supportive squeeze. “That’s just so like you, and that’s what makes me look up to you but also fear for you at the same time.”
“He told me that the ‘easy’ reason—” I make air quotes around the word for emphasis. “—is That Day didn’t happen yet, and so having a human wife was an unnecessary inconvenience.”
“That’s...understandable.”
“But he also told me he has another reason, and it’s because at that time...he was in love with someone else.”
Anastasia blinks. “Oh.”
Oh, indeed.
My roommate props her elbow on the table between us, her features turning somber as she settles her chin on her palm.
“Like I said, no one really knows much about the snow leopards in general. And I’ve certainly never heard anything about any girl—shifter, human, or otherwise—linked to him.
Just like no one also knows why Alphonse stepped down as alpha shortly after That Day. ”
So that’s why it’s Hexius who’s the King now...
“But what we can reasonably conjecture is why he wants you as a mate.”
Her words startle me into looking at her. “You mean that?”
“Preter science and technology has advanced by leaps and bounds since That Day, thanks mostly to Caro efforts. To start with, there’s the bit about sangferia.”
Both of us end up turning red as tomatoes as Anastasia explains, coherently but awkwardly, about how a preter’s strength can exponentially increase if he were to consume the virgin blood of a perfectly matched mate.
“But isn’t that just for Caros, though?”
“Shifters can also benefit from this if they were to consume the essence of their mate’s, um, initial...release.”
Both our faces are now on fire, and we start fanning our cheeks at the same time.
“Anyway...” Anastasia hurriedly changes the subject. “The second recent advancement was developed by the Concord Agency. They’re using a patented system that can calculate the compatibility rate of two individuals.”
Phew.
Now this sounds more like something Hexius would be involved in rather than the other...method.
“Calys and Alejandro are friends with the Celestinis. I can give them a call—”
I quickly shake my head. “Please don’t.” One of the first things she confessed to me about her old life was how her current life is a bid for independence, and how she’s painstakingly done her best not to rely on the Panthera’s royal family for anything. “What you’ve told me is more than—”
“Ms. Hondros?”
We both turn to see the second unit director approaching, clipboard in hand and looking harried. “The EPs want you in Conference Room B.”
“Are you sure they want me?” Shouldn’t they be talking to Anastasia, who’s one of the writers—
The second director shows me the text message sent by one of our executive producers.
Oh.
They really did want to talk to me, but why though?
I’m not even the stunt director for this show, and I’m only freelancing, too.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Anastasia says.
The second director nods in agreement. “Maybe they just have some random thing to ask about the fight scene.”
That does make sense, and I feel a little bit more at ease as I make my way to the conference room. By the time I knock on the door, I’ve already reviewed everything about my work—
“Come in, please.”
Why does that voice sound familiar?
Oh, never mind.
The sooner I get this over with, the—
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Ms. Hondros?”
The door closes softly behind me as my jaw falls in shock.
First, it was Hexius.
Now, it’s Alphonse showing up without noice?
The former king indicates one of the chairs. “Please take a seat. And in case you’re worried about how this will affect your work—don’t be. I’ve paid my share. I’m officially credited as one of the EPs for this show.”
I sit down.
There’s nothing else to do when he puts it that way.
“I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion.”
“May I ask what this is all about?” I try my best to sound polite and calm even though what I’m really feeling is bewildered and more than a little nervous.
“I was informed about my younger brother meeting with you.”
“Uh—”
“I expect he also proposed marriage?”
“Um—”
“Please reject him.”
I...don’t even try to speak this time. What is it with these Merciers and weddings and rejections?
“I understand I can’t force you to say yes, but I’m willing to give you—”
I can only blink when he actually retrieves a checkbook from the inner pocket of his suit while speaking.
“If you’d just tell me how much—”
“Mr. Mercier?”
He stills.
“Can you tell me why you want me to reject him?”
“Ah.” Emotions flash over his features, but too fast for me to comprehend what they mean.
“Because six years ago,” I venture uncertainly, “you seemed to be the one pushing for that arrangement with my grandfather—”
“I was, yes. But it’s different now. Six years ago, I acted out of jealousy. I wanted him out of the way, and I didn’t believe him when he told me he would never betray me.”
“Betray you over what?”
“Brandy.”
“Brandy, right.” I’m trying not to be confused, but I just...I don’t understand. So they quarreled over...alcohol? Surely it’s something more complicated than that, so maybe it’s some kind of financial tussle over control of an alcoholic beverage company? “Is this like a business takeover—”
“Brandy is my betrothed. Or shall I say my ex betrothed?”
Oh.
“Since our betrothal can no longer be enforced, I expected the two of them to marry after a respectable amount of time has passed. But it’s been over a year, and that’s made me realize how badly I’ve underestimated my brother. And that he’s too honorable for his own good.”
“I see.” And this time, I did mean it, unfortunately. I see more than I wished. And it’s not something I can un-see no matter how badly I want to.
“What I am prepared to pay you will be enough to set you up for life. You will never have to work again. All you have to do is turn my brother down.”