by Stella Cassy
He smiled and stepped closer to me. He droned on about a sequel to the movie, which I wouldn’t be doing. Hopefully, a schedule conflict would appease him, and I’d skirt any reprisals. My agent said his kids had been fans of my first TV series. Pretty sure, that was the only reason I got the part.
“Ready for some action?” He winked.
“Ten days.” And six hours. I tightened my fingers around the rings at the top of my purse and braced myself for the wandering hand, the filthy whispered words meant to blindside while he brushed my breasts or my butt to gauge how far he or I would go.
Nicky poked her head around the poster. Her eyes widened and her face reddened. “Oh hey.”
He leaned forward and put a clammy hand under my elbow. Here we go. He leaned in and placed an ear-popping smooch near the corner of my mouth. Scotch sloshed over the rim of my glass.
As he turned to leave, Nicky beamed at him like she didn’t have a new boyfriend. That used to be me before I woke with bruises on my inner thighs and a spotty memory in a stranger’s guest room.
When he left, I blew out a deep breath. “Let’s get the heck out of here.”
“Finish your drink first,” Nicky said, craning her neck around the poster.
“I am finished.”
“One sec.” She took the glass from my hand and lifted it to her mouth.
I stuck a hand between her lips and the rim. From my clutch, I took out a test strip and then dropped it into her drink.
She grinned and swirled it around. “It’s the same color, as usual.” She drained her glass. I linked arms with her, and we weaved through masked members of the cast I would soon spend way too much time with.
On the other side of the living room at the bar, my agent surrounded by people who wanted a spot like mine on her list, blew a kiss at me. A waiter dressed as an orange alien with gold tentacles topped off Nicky’s glass on our way to the elevator. If aliens existed, they didn’t look anything like any of brightly colored costumes in the room.
Nicky gushed all the way from the penthouse to the lobby. In the vestibule of the producer’s condominium, we waited for our rides while she rehashed the evening.
“I can’t believe they invited us to come with them this weekend. I’ve never been more than ten feet from a VIP table and never to a members-only club. They don’t take these from you, do they?” She kissed the two laminated passes with the mockup for the movie poster on them and clutched my gift bag full of expensive goodies. Thank God the us she was talking about didn’t include me.
“Don’t know, Nicky.” I shrugged and knotted the wrap across my bare shoulders. I hadn’t needed a pass to anywhere in years.
“You get to wear all that cool beauty queen shit,” she said. She lifted the tiara, a costume-jewelry replica of the one I’d wear on set, from my head and placed it on hers. Even in her silver shimmering catsuit and spiked pink mohawk, she looked more like a beauty contestant than me in my burnt orange halter dress, which only looked dressy because of my three-inch designer heels. It was really just a glorified ankle-length silk sundress. I had five others I’d be rotating through on set. Even with my hair up in corkscrew curls my stylist had diligently placed just so with the perfect balance of hair products and skill, I barely looked like I belonged among Hollywood’s elite.
“Yeah, real cool.” My smile waned at the thought of all the hours it was going to take to get into costume and makeup. Neither one of my parents would approve of my new role. For the amount of money they were paying me, though, I could produce my next project – an independent film.
“I got everyone’s autograph, even the ones I didn’t recognize in case they become somebody.” She unrolled a mockup of the movie poster. “Except Lara Abernathy’s.” She dug a pen out of her purse with a sheepish smile. “Is it weird?”
“Yeah,” I said, but signed it anyway.
“Come with, this weekend,” she said, with no conviction at all as she carefully rolled the poster.
“Can’t. The countdown until I’m on set begins as soon as I cross my threshold and put on my lucky bedroom slippers.”
“You only missed one cue while we were rehearsing. You can take the night off.”
She didn’t get it. I had to know my lines as if I was getting ready to go onstage for a play. It was the only way I could master the non-speaking parts, which had nothing to do with lines and everything to do with what a specific director wanted.
“While you’re schmoozing with the rich and famous, take off your rose-colored Dior’s long enough to check your drinks.” I gave her the vial of strips from my purse. “I have another at home.”
For my efforts, I got one of her indulgent smiles. “A bit of danger is a necessary ingredient for a little fun in a girl’s life.”
“Be careful,” I said. “They aren’t like the people at your office.”
“Hell.” She giggled. “I hope not.”
“Seriously, Nicky.”
“Sure, okay, girly,” she said. “What are you going to do tonight?”
“I’m staying in my pajamas the entire week. I’m not going any further than my pool.”
“I’ll come and make you dinner then,” she said.
I was usually okay if Nicky came alone, but I was looking forward to spending the week by myself. I was good one-on-one with those few in my inner circle, but my ritual required solitude.
I hugged Nicky and took the tiara off her head as my driver pulled up to the curb. Props helped me slip into a role and I would be practicing all week. “I need it for rehearsal.”
She pouted and immediately took out her phone and snapped a picture of me, then tapped a message to her boyfriend.
My usual driver hopped out, jogged around to the back passenger’s seat, and opened the door. I scanned up and down the street. There was something about the everyday shuffle of people coming and going that told me there would be no surprise cameras stuck in my face.
I tucked the tiara under my arm. With my head down and sunglasses on, I dashed outside, then slid inside the nondescript Mercedes sedan my personal assistant always requested. I didn’t look up until the door closed. No one looked my way. I smiled.
For once, I was just another person being picked up in L.A. Those actors who claimed to want anonymity but rode everywhere in limousines with an entourage of assistants and security, who looked like they just traded their machine guns and fatigues for Glocks and suits, didn’t really mean it.
I closed my eyes until we stopped at the guard’s booth outside of my house. My window rolled down, and I leaned forward so that the security guard could see my face on the security monitor. The gate opened and the driver circled my driveway. I hopped out before he could open his door.
“Good night, Ms. Abernathy,” he said. There was just enough professionalism in his voice, but I didn’t miss the sly smile he gave me indicating that he’d come upstairs and do his best to satisfy me just because I was the Lara Abernathy. Lara Abernathy wasn’t even my real name, just some amalgam of my parents’ names hatched up for me when I was five.
His car idled behind me as I punched in the code to the door and turned the key. Jesus, the sky looked like it was midnight instead of dusk. Was there some lunar event happening?
Maybe it had something to do with the endless rolling power outages.
I half-turned and waved the driver on, before stepping into the foyer and kicking off the shoes that felt like I had been walking on two blocks of steel all night. I stuck my feet in my favorite comfy black and gold bedroom slippers.
A soak in the tub with the jets on full blast and wine would remedy that. Afterward, thirty minutes with a toy from my treasure box at the back of my closet. Maybe.
In the kitchen, I took out a bottle of champagne from the wine cooler and uncorked it, pouring a crystal flute full of effervescent heaven. I took it through the living room to the solarium, where a copy of my movie script lay on the side table. I had already memorized my parts and could confidently
prompt others when they stumbled; I was known for that.
I had been working steadily since I was five and would continue to do so as long as I maintained my professional demeanor. Some of my actor friends, more volatile than I, struggled with long periods without knowing when they would work again.
I put the tiara on my head. One read through of the script and I could soak until I was wrinkled, then slather my body from head to toe in oils and lotions.
As I walked by the French doors leading out to the pool, something white loped by. I stopped and looked across the pool to the other side. Nothing moved in or around the pool house.
If my neighbor’s Komondor had somehow found its way into my backyard again to leave a mess for my gardener to cleanup, I needed to send my housekeeper to talk with her housekeeper again. I should never have given the dog a treat the first time he sneaked by the gardener.
I unlocked the patio door and padded outside to check the side gate. It was locked. My gardener and housekeeper were always good about securing the house before they left.
I turned around.
Standing in front of the pool was some animal. Not a Komondor or any kind of sheep dog, but some kind of white furry animal with a big head, black eyes and long, thin legs. Not an animal I’d ever seen.
My heart rate ticked up. It looked at me intently with a focused wildness in its eyes. Whatever it was, it wasn’t on the list of allowed pets from the homeowner’s association. It would have easily fit in without any modifications on the movie posters displayed at the producer’s penthouse.
I just stood there. Don’t freeze, my self-defense instructor’s voice said in my head.
Wait a minute, this isn’t real. Nicky had followed me. The way she drove, she could beat my driver over here if she wanted. She, my manager, and agent were the only ones on the access list. In a week, I would be in full costume on a science fiction movie set. This was a joke. Not a funny one though.
Without taking my eyes from the creature, I stepped towards the house. Someone was not going to get the sweet Lara Abernathy reaction they expected.
“This isn’t in my contract, guys. Call my agent, my manager.” I kept walking slowly toward the French doors.
No one knew about this address. It was under an LLC only my lawyers knew about. Most people thought I lived at the condominium where my manager paid the landlord to pretend I lived. My agent scheduled sightings of me going in there occasionally. Some of the residents who lived there but had never seen me believed the press.
“Joke over, okay. Whoever sent you is in trouble.”
The furry animal crept toward me. I stumbled backwards. Run, my instincts told me, even if Nicky was waiting to laugh herself silly. I spun around, half expecting her and my manager to rush out of my house to tease me about running off from the party early.
Another small creature blocked the patio door. I managed to chuck the rest of my champagne into its face and then pivoted toward the side gate, blood thumping in my ears, neck, and chest.
The glass slipped from my fingers and cracked on the pavers. I slid on the wet stones but remained upright. Pain splintered in the middle of my back and legs. My knees buckled and I went down flat on my stomach. The right side of my face whacked the granite. A metallic taste filled my mouth.
Was I being kidnapped? I managed to get up on one knee and whipped my head around, shielding my face with my arm.
The strange furry animals loomed over me. One pointed a pronged stick at me. I screamed and kicked it out of its hand and grabbed a chunk of fur on its skinny leg. It screeched, proving that those weren’t costumes from my movie. I’d seen some of the best makeup and props and these were on another level. Like they weren’t costumes at all, but they had to be.
The creature that was blocking the patio door dove to the ground and clamped my feet together while the one with the stick clamped my arms above my head. What kind of moves were those? Nothing like what I learned from my self-defense instructor after an overzealous fan almost got me in his van when I didn’t realize I couldn’t even go to the pricey grocery store in my neighborhood without being recognized.
A blindfold was put over my eyes. The air felt heavy and I gasped. I felt like I was suspended between the two of them and could float away if only I could breathe, could move. Almost immediately, my hands and feet were free, and I was lying on a sleek white floor.
I sat up, yanked the cloth over my eyes away, and squinted against the bright lights. High-pitched indecipherable voices surrounded me, but I couldn’t see anything.
Something cold and hard vibrated across my neck and knocked me over. I fell on my side onto my knee. I clutched my throbbing leg to my chest.
They hit me. I hadn’t been hit outside a movie since, well, never, and that had been an accident.
My tiara popped off my head and clattered nearby. “Use anything as a weapon,” my self-defense instructor had told me. I reached for it, but a white furry hand snatched it away. Something cold clamped around my neck.
Had I been kidnapped or was I hallucinating?
Get ready for book 2 in the Galactic Alpha’s Conquest Series, Kidnapped By The Alien Dragon.
Available Now!
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Cosmic Collector delves into the past, offering a glimpse of Tarion as a hatchling after the death of his birth mother. Through the alternating perspectives of Tarion's sire, Silea, and Alana, a human woman that captured his heart, readers will gain a deeper understanding of the Hielsrane dragons, from their possessive tendencies to their battle-hardened exteriors.
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Captured By The Alien Dragon
Galactic Alpha’s Conquest: Book 1
Stella Casey
© 2019
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).
