by Bianca D’Arc
It had probably been somebody’s house cat, on the prowl for mice, after all. She’d just imagined the size and the spots. Had to be. With a confused yawn, Katrina turned back to her bed and lay down. She still had an early call in the morning, and staying awake when she should be sleeping was not part of her plan.
Putting thoughts of wild cats out of her mind, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. She was still physically tired from all the travel and excitement the day before, so that helped. As she drifted off, though, her mind turned back to those strangely glowing eyes…
The next morning, Katrina did her best to put the dream images of big spotted cats running through the forest out of her mind as she got dressed after her shower. She was still yawning a bit when she knocked on the door of the hotel suite that had been designated for props and makeup. Franny answered the door, looking all too awake.
“Sorry,” Katrina said as she yawned again. “I’m used to a much later schedule. The restaurant closes after midnight on the weekends, and I never have to be at work before noon. I’m still adjusting.”
“No problem,” Franny said absently as she sorted through the little containers of makeup she’d selected to try on Katrina. “I’m usually a night owl, myself, when I’m not working. It just takes a day or two for your body to adjust to getting up earlier. You’ll get there.”
“In time to start shooting, I hope,” Katrina mumbled, but Franny apparently heard her and chuckled in reply.
They spent the next hour going over makeup choices with Franny trying various things on Katrina’s face. Sonia arrived toward the end of the hour, and both women spent quite a bit of time staring at Katrina’s face, which was a bit unnerving.
“I think the softer rose,” Sonia finally said. “It’ll look more like her natural tone on camera for the main part of filming. For the close-ups, I want her skin as bare as possible so we get to see her natural responses, but the subtle eye you’ve done on the right side would work perfectly. The more dramatic eye on the left side for everything else,” the director said decisively, patting Franny on the shoulder. “Good work, Francesca. It’s perfect.”
With Sonia’s seal of approval given, the director left the room, and Franny beamed with pleasure. She came back to Katrina and began working on her face again.
“Let’s even you out so you don’t look like a work-in-progress for the rest of the day,” she said, already wielding her brushes with renewed vigor.
Katrina watched in wonder as Franny made the right side match the left and evened out the foundation tones on her cheeks. It was very light makeup, and Katrina really liked the effect Franny had achieved with so little effort.
“Is this about how you normally do your face?” Franny asked at one point.
“I use a heavier foundation, but I like what you’re using better,” Katrina admitted. “When I’m working, I need stuff that will last the entire shift without running down my face, if you know what I mean. I usually use waterproof mascara and a swipe of dark powder eyeshadow, instead of liner from about mid-eyelid to the corners, and a tiny bit underneath my lower lashes.”
Franny nodded. “That’s a good look for you. You have a really nice shape to your eyes, and, of course, they’re big. I’d say, they’re your best feature, though the rest of your face is good, as well. Nice straight nose. Not too big or too small. Same for the lips, though many in Hollywood these days would tell you to get collagen injections to plump them up. Not me, though. Especially not for this picture. Everyone on this film needs to look like a normal human being. Not a plastic-enhanced version of humanity.”
Katrina laughed. “I’m sorry, but most of the cast is, like, the best version of human being there is. Tall, fit, handsome. There’s nothing average about most of the cast.”
Franny tilted her head to one side, as if considering her answer. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll give you that. They are a good-looking bunch, but if you look at them closely, none of them are plastic in any way. That’s just natural, good genetics at work.”
Katrina nodded, agreeing. “I suppose, but I still feel like the ugly duckling among the swans.”
Franny huffed and moved out of the way so Katrina could see herself in the mirror. “I ask you—does that look like an ugly duckling? No way, no how. You’re the swanniest swan of them all.”
They shared a chuckle, and Katrina thanked Franny for the ego boost and the terrific makeup job, then asked about the products she had used. That took the conversation off in another direction, and Katrina learned a lot about products she would buy for herself, once this gig was over. No more heavy foundation for her. Not when this stuff looked and felt so much better.
Franny’s next victim arrived, and Katrina vacated the makeup chair to go back to her room and study the script for a half-hour before the next item on her agenda. She consulted her master planner and the small daily to do list she’d made to carry around in her script and got on with her day.
The rest of the cast and crew rode over to the location in chartered passenger vans, but Ren liked to get himself from place to place on his motorcycle, especially when the weather was nice. He arrived at the old church they were using for some of the shots a bit early and scouted the perimeter a bit before everyone else started arriving. The old structure was made of quarried stone and built to last. It was a much smaller version of some of the gothic cathedrals he’d visited in his travels around the world and had stopped being used as a church decades ago. The owners had allowed the forest to grow up around the building as the surrounding town moved its center away from the old church, away from the river that had a tendency to overrun its banks a bit too often.
Nothing really harmed the old stone building, so it remained, even after the floods had driven away the rest of the people who had once lived around it. The property owner had bought up the surrounding land, and though someone had once tried to live on the site, the continual flooding that inundated the place every few years had eventually driven them to higher ground, as well. Now, the site was used for special events. Weddings, parties, film shoots, and the like. People could rent the place out for a few hours or a few months, depending on their needs.
The set design and props people had been all over the interior already, setting up the areas they would be using with the proper tapestries and furnishings. The stone walls and leaded-glass windows would look amazing and be indistinguishable from similar stone walls and windows in much more expensive locations.
Ren scouted the outside, walking from the parking area where he left his bike, down to the river and then back around the perimeter, skirting the trees. There was a large open green space where the men would be working on fight choreography, and the craft services people were already set up under the roof of a very large open-air picnic space off to one side of the clearing.
He was coming back around to the front of the building, though the small garden area, when the first of the passenger vans pulled up. He hung back, leaning against the wall of the building, somewhat hidden by the angle of the cut stone and the nearby bushes. It was in his nature to be cautious, and he wanted to see who was in the first load of passengers.
Most of the other actors had been in the first load, including most of the Merry Men and, last off the small bus, Maid Marian. Katrina. He imagined he could almost breathe in her delicate scent from even this distance.
She was laughing as she stepped off the bus, enjoying a joke with Dennis, who was playing Friar Tuck in this production. Dennis was an older fellow, and by that, Ren knew ol’ Den had already lived the better part of two centuries. He was a very old-fashioned cat who didn’t even have to try to exude charm. It certainly looked like he’d charmed the lone human in the group as he stood by to help her should she somehow need assistance getting out of the van.
Ren would have been jealous if he didn’t know for a fact that Dennis’s mate was waiting for him in the picnic area. His better half was running the craft services department for
this gig, and they had been happily mated for longer than Ren had been alive. Hell, they had children older than Ren, himself.
The little human woman couldn’t be in safer hands, yet something inside made Ren want to go to her side and usher her through her first day on a real movie set. He knew her history. He knew she was new to all this. He’d taken the time to look up her prior acting credits, scant as they were, and he’d even sourced images from her school productions all the way back to tenth grade.
She’d been a cute kid who’d grown into a gorgeous woman. Her talent had been strong as a youngster, but like many gifted kids, she’d become disillusioned by the reality of beating the streets, looking for work as a young actor. He didn’t blame her. He remembered how it had been, himself, before he’d struck gold by chance.
Ren had been cast in a television series that he hadn’t taken too seriously, expecting the ridiculously over-the-top storyline to get cancelled mid-way into its first season. Shockingly, it hadn’t. Something about the show had caught on, and they’d done five seasons before the whole thing began to unravel.
Ren had gone from that to feature films, which was a major leap into a new realm for him. He’d enjoyed the challenge but still hadn’t expected too much. His rise to stardom had been a surprise, but he’d enjoyed the ride. It was coming down from the intensity of his fame that was going to be problematic, but he’d deal with that when he had to. For now, he could still work for a few years on projects he could pick and choose. That was enough.
Katrina was getting a second chance to grab her own brass ring, and Ren felt sort of bittersweet about it. She seemed balanced enough to handle the fame that might come her way. He’d bet she wouldn’t be one of those women who go all bitch-diva once they achieve a little success. She just didn’t seem the type, based on what he’d learned about her and her background.
She had a good, solid family behind her. They’d keep her real, if nothing else. He was already sure that she’d come out of this gig with a healthy career ahead of her. He hadn’t seen her act yet, but she definitely looked the part. If she could just read the lines and give them the merest shadow of emotion, she’d get more work out of this.
If, however, she turned out to have real acting chops under that innocent-looking exterior, well then… The sky was the limit for someone like her. She was beautiful enough to be a leading lady, but her looks were also versatile enough for character work—if she had the talent. In his heart of hearts, he found himself rooting for her.
Shaking off the strange thoughts, Ren straightened from his leaning position against the side of the building. All the jaguars in the cast immediately saw him. The humans were mostly oblivious. He nodded to his Clanmates and began walking after them, catching up with them as they neared the picnic area where the food was being served.
He joined the chow line at the end and followed along, gathering a tray, plate and utensils before attacking the breakfast offerings in their chafing dishes. Greg and Liatha Mendez queued up behind Ren and said hello.
“How are we set for this morning’s work?” Ren asked, always interested in what Greg had up his sleeve as far as fight choreography went.
“This site is great. We can work behind the building. There’s a big enough field that’s shielded on three sides, and I doubt any paparazzi will be able to spy on us,” he said in a low voice.
“Yeah, I took a look around when I first got here a little bit ago,” Ren admitted.
“You’re getting even better at stealth, my friend. I didn’t even scent you,” Greg said with a low chuckle, his words quiet enough so that only Ren and Liatha could hear.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ren said jovially. “I’ve been working on being unseen. That skill will come in handy when I finally retire in a few years.”
It had been Greg who had offered to teach Ren advanced stealth techniques. Not only was Greg a martial artist and weapons master of international acclaim, he was also a master of shifter skills like stealth and stalking, with few equals among the jaguar Clan. He was an older cat, about the same age as Dennis, and he and his mate, Liatha, had been a couple for over a century. They were more like aunts and uncles to Ren than contemporaries, though they didn’t look much older than he did. Such was the blessing of shifter genetics. As long as they weren’t taken out by chance or by design, they usually lived to a ripe old age and stayed young-looking to human eyes.
“Give me a year or two, and I’ll turn you into a ninja, my friend,” Greg promised with a chuckle, though Ren wasn’t sure if it was truly a joke.
There were all sorts of rumors in the shifter community about Greg and his family. Ninja training was right up there on top of the list. In fact, one of his sons had been living in Japan for more than a decade, and half the Clan was convinced he was in line to be the grand master of some ancient ninja tradition. But maybe, that was just a rumor. Cats did like to gossip more than other shifters when they got together.
“I may take you up on that, sensei,” Ren replied as he forked a small mountain of crisp bacon on top of the heap of eggs he’d already taken from the serving dishes.
When all three of them were through the line, Ren and Liatha stopped to get coffee while Greg went to snag some seats. Ren almost stopped short when he turned to find that Greg had chosen to sit with his old friend Dennis. And Dennis, of course, was sitting right next to the human. Katrina.
Using all his acting skills, Ren kept moving, not letting any of his thoughts show on his face. For that matter, he wasn’t sure what to think about the visceral reaction he had to her, every time he saw her. He was confused, but he strove not to let it show as he took a seat across from her at the large table. He nodded good morning to everyone over the rim of his coffee cup, stalling for time to get his racing thoughts under control.
“So, what have you got on your schedule for today, Ren?” Dennis asked jovially, from his seat next to Katrina.
“Kat and I are blocking some indoor scenes this morning, then it’s off to fight practice with Greg in the afternoon,” Ren reported, glad for the softball question. “How about you?”
“Fight practice with the lunatic arms master all day, I’m afraid,” Dennis said, sending his old friend Greg a wink along with a teasing grin.
“I’m going to remember you said that,” Greg replied, raising the coffee his mate had brought for him in salute.
“Kat, I’m not sure you’ve met Greg and Liatha Mendez yet, have you?” Dennis asked politely, making the introductions when Kat replied she had not. “Greg is our fight choreographer, and his wife, Liatha, is in charge of props and set decoration. They are old friends of mine,” he added.
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Kat said politely.
Chapter Five
Everybody ate their breakfast as the conversation progressed, talking about the schedule and what was in store for the next few days. Liatha talked about the tapestries she’d sourced from a local collector that were going to feature greatly in her set decoration plans. Katrina let the talk flow around her, soaking up as much information as she could, learning as she went.
Katrina noted that everyone at the table, including Liatha, had heaped their plates with food. Katrina, by contrast, had chosen to make a sort of egg sandwich for herself with a slice of toast and a helping of scrambled eggs. She would need the protein for the day ahead, but she didn’t want to eat anything too heavy, since she was bound to be nervous. They all had coffee, but Katrina had opted for bottled water. She knew she had to watch every calorie when filming because the camera could be merciless.
She supposed the men didn’t have to be as cautious, and Liatha worked behind the scenes, but the amount of food they packed away was impressive, regardless. Katrina looked around the picnic pavilion that had been taken over completely by craft services and noticed that a lot of the other folks were eating just as heartily. Maybe it was the free food. Maybe it was the tradition for actors and crew to have large breakfasts then eat li
ghter the rest of the day. She just didn’t know.
Liatha asked her a question, and Katrina put her wandering thoughts aside and made small talk with the older woman. She ate slowly, finishing when everyone else did, and spent the few minutes they had before they had to be at their various tasks just sitting back, enjoying the feeling of camaraderie and anticipation. Everyone, it seemed, was eager to get started.
By some unspoken consensus, everybody rose about the same time and headed out to their various locations. Katrina and Ren were scheduled to go over blocking for some of the indoor scenes inside the old church, while Greg was taking the rest of the men in the cast, and a few of the women, as well, to rehearse one of the big fight scenes.
Ren held back when Katrina started heading for the old church with Liatha. Katrina wasn’t sure, but it was possible Ren was giving her a bit of the cold shoulder. Or, maybe, he was just a little hard to get to know. Maybe it would just take some time for him to warm up to her. She’d just bide her time and let things unfold. The last thing she wanted to do was act clingy and annoying. She’d bet he got a lot of that already from his legions of adoring fans.
Katrina left Liatha with Sonia, who was already inside the building, directing a small crew that was erecting a supplemental lighting rig. Katrina went to the area Sonia indicated, which was set up like a small set. They’d be using different areas of the interior and exterior of the old building to represent different parts of the castle where a lot of the scenes were set. Katrina went toward the front of the building where the altar must have once been. There were a few people already gathering there, ready to work, who greeted her with friendly smiles as she approached.
Katrina was all set to take notes, colorful pen in one hand, script in the other, when Sonia and Ren joined the rest of the small group. The first scene they were going to tackle just happened to be the first meeting between Robin and Maid Marian. It seemed fitting to her, to start there, even though the film wouldn’t actually start at that point.
