He closed his bedroom door, popping open a bottle of beer as he powered up his laptop. She was on, and he found himself impatiently drumming on the brown glass bottle as he waited for a chance to talk to her. To see if she’d entered.
Thomas opened the site, heading immediately to the chat room. He kept himself invisible so he could see what they were saying without distraction. It was full, everyone excited about the contest, about the chance to see Mac’s castle. Mac had no idea how much these women loved vampires. Every movie, every book, even the ones meant for younger adults—they ate it up. Vampires were in. His friend could be the Elvis of the blood sucking world if he’d just relax and enjoy it.
Ah. There she was. He double clicked on her name and opened up a private window.
Tomcat: Knock Knock
There was a pause, and he held his breath until she responded.
Kittysnapdragon: Sneaking in again? The others will be disappointed. They all want to pepper you with questions about the contest.
Tomcat: I’m a cat. I excel at sneaking. And other things.
Kittysnapdragon: So you keep telling me. I’ll just have to take your word for it.
He smiled when he saw her response. “Maybe I can prove it.” Tom typed swiftly, feeling like a nervous kid. It was foolish, how much he cared what she thought.
Tomcat: Did you enter the contest? Tell me your real name, I might be able to pull some strings.
He hit enter and held his breath.
There was another long pause, then a small yellow smiley face popped on screen, shaking its head along with a few words that had him snorting in disbelief. She logged off quickly, and he knew she wouldn’t be back on tonight.
“No cheating?” Her last words stayed with him as he turned off his computer and headed for Saint’s room. “You don’t know me very well, darlin’. But you will.”
Chapter Two
Margo Sheffield was the unluckiest human on the planet. That was all there was to it. A moment of weakness, just one small step from her straight and narrow path had led to this—trapped on a plane, not with snakes or psycho pilots, but with a group of eight others. All fans of Shifting Reality, all winning contestants on their way to Scotland.
When she’d arrived in New York, she’d discovered that the show had rented the entire plane, just for them. So there was nothing to distract Margo from getting to know her fellow winners. Or think about how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place.
After her five second chat with Tomcat almost a month ago, she’d made a resolution. She would stay away from the site for a while, focus on what was real, what she needed to do. He was a fantasy, and that was where he needed to stay. She’d thrown herself even further into her work, helping development weed through scripts, ensuring she was the first one to arrive and the last to leave. Everyone had taken notice. Including her boss, Darcy Finch.
So when she’d come in from picking up lunch for an office meeting to find everyone staring at her as though she’d grown an extra head, she was hopeful. Maybe she was getting that raise Darcy always dangled like a carrot. Or a promotion.
She wasn’t surprised when Darcy pulled her into the office before the meeting. She was surprised at the reason.
“Excuse me?”
“Shifting Reality? The Internet sensation? You know, if Whedon’s people hadn’t assured me he had nothing to do with it, I never would have believed anyone else could pull it off. It’s the most popular thing going, and no one has been able to touch them, to talk to them about developing it for cable or film. Until now. Until you, Margo, you genius.”
She swallowed. Hard. “Me?”
Darcy had leaned against her desk, a blonde bombshell with the instincts of a shark, and smiled. “You’ve always been an asset, Margo. Never letting your life get in the way of what I needed you to do. I always thought, forgive me for saying so, that you just didn’t have one. That you were one of those sheep outside that punch their time cards and go home alone to a cat until they retire to Florida.” She shrugged unapologetically. “But this, this is the kind of innovative thinking that got me where I am today. And it’s going to let us write our own ticket.”
Margo sat down, setting the bags of hot gyros gently on the table beside her and took a breath, silently hoping she didn’t have any of Hailey’s black cat hairs on her blouse. “Darcy, I’m sorry but I’m not sure—”
Darcy reached behind her and spun her computer screen around, giving Margo a chance to see the graphics. “You won, Margo. There’s your name. You are going to be one of the contestants going to Scotland. You’ll be up close and personal with the creators of the show for one week. Seven whole days.” She clasped her hands together excitedly. “In that time I expect nothing less than a signed contract for exclusive filming rights, promotional merchandising—the works. I can see it now. You think that teeny bopper vamp campaign was big? That’s nothing compared to what I have in mind for those three. We’ll have their faces on everything from cereal boxes to pantyhose, on billboards and marquee signs. And you will be the one to make it happen.”
Margo knew that light. That special, greedy light in Darcy’s eye that told her she would not let this go. She stared at her name on the screen and panic began to set in. On camera? She couldn’t do it. It would be too humiliating. “Couldn’t we send one of the interns instead? I know several who would love to be in front of the camera. I think I should be here, at the main office, there’s so much work…” Darcy’s expression froze, and Margo knew she had no choice. If she said no, she would lose her job. Or be forced to resign. That was Darcy’s style. “No. You’re right. I should go. I’ll get their agreement, even if it kills me.”
Darcy had pulled her up from her chair, all smiles again. “That’s my girl. It won’t be that bad. Just one week on camera with some of the hottest men either one of us has ever seen, which is saying something, considering the business we’re in. I’ll have the contracts drawn, all you have to do is play along, and get their signatures. You do that, and you will never have to worry about job security again. You don’t? Well, that will be another story, won’t it?”
She thought about that last meeting again as she sat in her window seat, watching the wings of the plane tear through the clouds, and took another shot of tequila. She gasped, reaching for a napkin.
“Careful. I’ve been drunk on a plane before. It is impossible to maintain any dignity with your face buried in an airsick bag. Trust me.”
Margo glanced up in surprise at the pleasant male voice. Salt and pepper hair, expensive suit, handsome face. He looked nothing like a Shifting Reality fan. “Did you get on the wrong flight?”
He chuckled, sitting down beside her with a smile. “I could ask the same of you. You’re the only one who hasn’t joined the celebration a few aisles down. And the only one who doesn’t look happy to be here.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Stan. Stanley Lawrence Ayer. But you might be more familiar with my screen moniker—”
“Slayer! You’re Slayer? I can’t believe Mr. Cynical actually entered the contest.” She blushed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Ayer. I haven’t had tequila in a long time. I’m not exactly at my best.”
He shook his head, leaning closer. “It’s Stan. And don’t worry—it’s no worse than I’ve heard so far. I don’t think too many people are happy with my being chosen. Personally, I’m impressed. Those boys are either supremely confident, or masochistic.” She joined his soft laughter and watched him tilt his head. “Forgive me for being forward, but since I’ve already been introduced to the rest of the winners, I assume you are Ms. Margo Sheffield?”
She nodded. “I am. Before you ask…Kittysnapdragon.”
He leaned back against the cushioned seat and slapped his hands on his knees. “Now I’m surprised. You are not at all as I pictured you. And I’d been doing so well.”
“Thought I’d be a crazy fan girl drooling over Thomas Lyons’s picture?”
Stan nodded. “Pretty much. Erin J
ohnston and Karen Stevens already have that stereotype covered. I’m sure you’ll meet them shortly.” He studied her expression. “Why do you look so unhappy, then? I would have thought you would be thrilled to get the chance to meet our feline host. Afraid to fly?”
Margo took another sip of her drink and mumbled. “No, I’m afraid to crash and burn.”
Stan seemed to understand she wasn’t talking about the plane. “Just stick close to me, my beauty. I’ll protect you.” He stood and grasped her hand. “Come, Margo. We signed the paper, and we know what it says. We have to allow ourselves to be filmed, and we need to at least make an effort to mingle with our contestant brethren.”
“But we aren’t there yet.” She knew she was being petulant. She just had a sinking feeling that her streak of bad luck was only going to get worse. That nothing would ever be the same.
“Au contraire, my dear. As soon as we stepped on this plane it began. There are cameras everywhere.” Stan pointed toward the front, where the screen that was usually reserved for in flight movies was projecting split screen images of the contestants as they laughed, drank and cavorted in the aisles. In the lower corner one camera had zoomed in on her, watching as she isolated herself.
“Great.”
Stan laughed. “Smile, love. You’re a star.”
She wasn’t sure how many hours they were on that plane, but as she watched the other passengers drag themselves down the tarmac, she knew they were all in the same boat. Hung over and jet lagged, and looking like something the cat dragged in. Even Slayer looked mussed, and she would be willing to bet that wasn’t a state the fastidious gentleman usually allowed himself to get in.
Kasey Lynn and Bryan Hollister were the only ones who looked alert and raring to go. A married couple from Houston, the two were inseparable, and both avid ghost hunters. They’d admitted most of their luggage held equipment brought to investigate the Scottish castle, and they’d spent the evening regaling the others with its macabre and bloody history.
Now Margo could add ghosts to the list of things she had to be nervous about. She slipped on her sunglasses and pulled her thin coat closer around her, looking from her rolling carryon to see a giant piece of male beefcake and a stunning young woman, both standing beside a large tour bus, handheld cameras aimed their way.
“This day keeps getting better and better,” she mumbled. “And I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
“Coffee is on the bus, ma’am, as well as a hardy breakfast guaranteed to cure your ills.” The woman behind the camera smiled after shouting across the distance. How had she heard her from that far away? The wind must have carried her voice. She nodded, reaching up to hold her heavy head at the motion. Oh Lord, she promised she’d never drink again. Just make the pain stop.
“That is one beautiful camerawoman. Consider my ills cured,” Joseph Lopez, one of the other contestants, whispered in Margo’s ear. He was a good guy. An architect from Arizona, with a love of all things paranormal. Very earnest and charming.
Camera Girl blushed, and Margo nearly stumbled. She knew the woman had heard his whispered words. She wasn’t sure how. Maybe they’d been secretly wired while they slept on the flight.
Or maybe she has a keen sense of hearing because she’s one of them.
She couldn’t start down that road. She didn’t believe in things that went bump in the night. Never had. All her monsters had been very real and very human. She just had to play along until she convinced them to sign on the dotted line. That was the only reason she’d come.
It had nothing to do with Thomas Lyons. Nothing at all.
“Smell the Scottish air. This place is so full of history, I can’t wait to start exploring.”
“It is, sugar. Do you have the infrared camera? The EMF detector?”
“We have everything, honey. We already went down the checklist, remember?”
Margo bit her lip to stop from chuckling. Kasey Lynn and Bryan were going to be entertainment unto themselves. Maybe they could do a spin-off. Newlywed Ghost Hunters: The Mad and the Beautiful.
She looked around. The sky was amazing. And the air—it was sweet. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Chilly, but nice. After living beneath the dome of California smog for so long, she’d forgotten what fresh air smelled like.
They were guided onto the tour bus, a giant rock star mobile with all the amenities. Where did their funding come from? To say Darcy would be disappointed if this was a studio promotion of a film already underway was an extreme understatement. They had gone to greater lengths in the past, but surely something this big couldn’t have been kept under wraps for a whole year. There was no marketing team that leak proof.
She sat down at a table with Joseph, Stan and a lovely Asian woman named Julie Wu. Julie was Keepsake_Hrt, one of Margo’s partner’s in crime online. She was happy to finally meet her in person, and Julie seemed relieved to have someone she knew along for the ride as well.
The woman with the camera and the bionic ears stood at the front of the bus with her male counterpart. She was truly lovely. Exotic dark brown eyes, lush lips, sharp cheekbones and the body of a lingerie model. Margo wondered if she and Thomas were together. That thought was singularly depressing. “Welcome to Scotland. I’m Chi, and this is Liam. We’ll be your camera crew for the next week, and this old guy behind us at the wheel—Dugan—he’ll be in charge of your transportation needs.”
The bus started moving, and Margo looked down at her breakfast. On any other day it would have been welcome. Pancakes and sausage, Eggs Benedict and a fresh bowl of fruit. Today it made her stomach knot in rejection. And now she remembered why she’d stopped drinking the hard stuff.
“Where are they? Thomas, Mac and Saint?”
Chi smiled at the question that came from Karen Stevens, a petite, seemingly shy woman who’d admitted on the flight that she had gotten a tattoo of the three stars on her chest for the occasion. That was fan dedication.
“Thomas and Saint are in transit. They wanted to give you an opportunity to get settled in before you meet. Mac, as you know, is not exactly fond of sunlight.” Chi winked at the group’s titters. “Tonight, at dinner, you will meet everyone for the first time. Anyone else have any questions?”
“Will everything be recorded? What if one of us wanted to have sex with our hosts? Would that be put online for everyone to see?”
Joseph met Margo’s gaze and made a face. Naomi Blaze. Of course it would be her that asked that question. She sounded like she wanted to be filmed. It didn’t surprise Margo. Naomi had made no secret of the reason she was here. She had her own porn website, and it was a fantastic opportunity for self-promotion. If she could show some skin, well, the more the better. It wouldn’t bother her if Naomi weren’t so smug, so vain or so very…obvious.
Chi grimaced, but answered politely. “Most of your time here will be filmed, as specified in your contract. Some, like what we’ve captured this morning, will be prerecorded, but predominantly the show will be live.” She glanced at the rest of them. “Bathrooms are off limits, so you’ll be able to shower, get dressed etcetera, without having your privacy completely invaded. Luckily, there’s been substantial renovation done to the castle in the last five years. Each of your rooms in the castle have en suites, so you won’t have to share.” She turned back to Naomi. “I suppose the answer to your question, Ms. Blaze, is yes, if you are determined to have sex in front of the camera, we or one of the cameras set up around the castle will no doubt catch the show.”
The awkward silence grew until the giant Liam suddenly shifted his hips, drawing everyone’s gaze. But his attention was focused on Julie Wu. “Do you have a question?”
Margo smiled into her coffee as Julie blushed, looking flustered. “No. But, um, thank you.”
The air crackled between them. Margo knew Julie had suffered through a difficult break-up about six months ago, finally gathering the courage to leave her abusive, good for nothing boyfriend—and since then she’d had no interest i
n dating. But this…this looked promising. She’d have to find out more about Liam the cameraman. Make sure he was good enough for Julie.
“I can see the wheels turning in your pretty head. Are we matchmaking?”
Margo smiled at Stan. “Maybe.”
“Oh goody. As long as you don’t turn that spotlight on me. Dugan the driver is not my type.”
“Dude, could you relax please? They’ve landed. They’re on the bus. It’s all good.”
Thomas glared at the lounging Saint who hadn’t looked up from his Blackberry since breakfast. The demon really needed a lesson or two in the fine art of socializing.
He couldn’t fault him. Saint was the only thing keeping him from clawing at the walls. His little device was connecting him to the cameras; first the plane’s, now Chi’s. He was also adding new code to his online game, keeping up with the commentary on the Shifting Reality site, and playing Solitaire. Talk about multi-tasking.
“How close are they?” He was dying to meet her. Saint had shown him the images, pointing her out. Kittysnapdragon. Margo. She was all he’d imagined and more. Saint had been right about her ass. He’d never seen one he’d been so tempted to touch. To bite. But an image told him nothing. He needed her here.
“About fifteen minutes. Chi said what you told her to, that we wouldn’t arrive until dinnertime. It should allow them a few hours to settle in, and us a little more surveillance.”
The door to their impromptu control center, opened, and Thomas turned to face the newcomer. “Are you ready for phase one, Esther?”
“Master Mac informed me of my duties quite thoroughly, Master Lyons. I will not fail. I am having what you might call, reservations, however.”
My Shifter Showmance: Shifting Reality, Book 1 Page 2
