Primal Call Read online

  Primal Call

  SUSAN SIZEMORE

  Vampire Primes Story

  Copyright 2011 Susan Sizemore

  Cover Art: Dara England

  Editor: Marguerite Krause

  “I am not reclusive,” Thena said. “I have a deadline.”

  “You always have a deadline.”

  “Thank God for that,” Thena said. “The llamas like to eat.”

  Along with the alpaca, the dogs, the cats, and somebody had pulled up to the barn and left off a donkey a few days ago.

  “What do llamas eat? Never mind,” Carla Greene said. “All I want you to do is leave your critters for a few days and come to Los Angeles.”

  Athena Blaise liked her secluded Ozark home just fine. “I—”

  “Bring your laptop with you. You don’t have to be sitting at your desk to work on a book.”

  Thena was currently carrying on this Skype conversation with the publicity person at her publishing house from her laptop while sitting on her bed. She could work anywhere, but she liked working at home the best. One of the things she loved about being an author was that she could work anywhere—but working at home was still the best, whether she was here in Missouri, or on Okios, the Greek island where she spent several months a year with her mother’s side of the family.

  “You cannot say no to an invitation like this,” Carla insisted. “Think of the bump in book sales you’ll get out of this.”

  “Having the guy’s face on a new edition of Orphan will do just fine.”

  She’d had no choice in the actor picked to play Cole Alter in the film. Her Cole was a sturdy, Midwestern blond. The producers of Orphan had gone for a dark-haired Irish actor with nice muscles who could apparently fake an American accent well enough. He was also a notorious party boy whose face showed up in the tabloids as much as it did on movie posters.

  “Getting your picture taken on the set of the Orphan movie, with—the guy—will sell even more books. And don’t tell me you’re not interested in meeting one of the most gorgeous men in the world?”

  Thena laughed. “Okay, I won’t lie about that.”

  She also feared doing or saying something stupid, and tripping over her tongue or having to wipe drool off her chin if she had to do more than say, Hello. Nice to meet you to the gorgeous young actor.

  “Then it’s settled. You’re going to Hollywood.”

  Thena sighed, all too aware that she did have to think about things like promoting her books. She hadn’t done book tours for the last couple of Cole Alter books, but she liked engaging in podcasts and something called a blog tour and online interviews. It was such a fresh, high-tech approach. She loved the technology that could reach the world from the peaceful surroundings of her office. Her website, eblast newsletters, email, and postings on social media sites kept her in touch with her fans.

  “It’s settled then,” Carla said. “I’ve just emailed your itinerary and tickets to you. I’ll meet you at LAX on Wednesday.”

  “I—Uh—” Thena was too stunned at how soon this trip was to take place to articulate anything more sensible for a moment.

  It gave Carla time to say, “Bye,” and log off Skype.

  Thena already regretted agreeing to the trip as she went to her closet to hunt for something to pack. Normally, the first thing she thought about before she travelled was wondering what knitting project to take along with her. But now she had to—

  She had to get her hair done!

  She’d always wanted to try being a blond. Everyone was a blond in Hollywood, right?

  Wednesday was two days from now. How was she supposed to lose twenty pounds in two days? She wore a size 10. A size 0 was fat in Hollywood, right? They didn’t let people who wore size 10 onto movie sets, did they?

  “Oh, my God, I’m going to meet James Wilde!”

  Did they make such a thing as full-body Spanx?

  ###

  You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?

  Hearing the voice in his head served to bring James Wilde back from inside a book he wasn’t even reading.

  He smiled.

  There were advantages to having a telepathic personal assistant. Disadvantages, too, but at the moment he was glad Gennie had intruded into his thoughts.

  His head needed to be in the role, not the author’s words. He should be running through memorized dialogue, figuring out nuances for the character beyond the dialogue.

  He’d been thinking about the book the script was loosely based on since he’d read it. He liked the author’s voice. She made him laugh, and think. The story stayed with him, her writing style even more so. It wasn’t a bad book, for a mystery adventure sort of thing. He’d downloaded the other six books in the series onto his ereader and had started reading the first in the series. Orphan, in which he was playing the lead, was book number three. He was glad he had the whole series to look forward to.

  “She’s working on more, isn’t she?”

  “She who?” Gennie asked.

  “You’re the mind-reader. You tell me.”

  Gennie looked around Wilde’s on-set trailer. Shhh... she thought. You never know when a camera is watching. Or when a bug’s in a room.

  Don’t you have the place swept for eavesdroppers every day? he thought back.

  I do.

  And do I not pay the Corbett twins a large part of my income to keep my privacy private and my persona in place?

  You do. Accidents happen.

  My bodyguard’s a werewolf. Let her eat the accidents.

  He didn’t like having a security team surrounding him in the first place. If truth be told, he was the one people needed to be protected from if he should ever lose control of his temper. But movie stars had entourages. He had to be very careful to be exactly who he seemed to be almost all the time.

  “Who were you asking about?” Gennie asked. She held up an iPad as though it were a crystal ball. “You wanted to know something about someone working on more. More what?”

  He held out his hand and his PA handed over her hand-held computer. “Never mind. I can find out for myself.”

  “You’re due in makeup in five.”

  James nodded.

  “You also have a lunch, with photos, on your schedule for today.”

  He glanced up from the iPad, annoyed. “During filming? Don’t we have a closed set today?”

  “Not today. You’re done with nude scenes for now.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  He and Gennie shared a smile, both aware how incongruous it was for a Prime not to be interested in sex. Nothing fun in simulated set sex. It just made him crave the real stuff. It wasn’t good for a Prime to crave something he couldn’t have. Gave him toothaches.

  “Who am I lunching with?” he asked.

  Gennie took her iPad back, checked notes. “The author of Orphan, A. S. Blaise, and some—”

  “Really?” James grinned. “Good. Then I can ask her myself.”

  “Ask her what?”

  There was a knock on the trailer door.

  “Never mind,” Gennie continued. “Stop flashing those dimples at me, Jimmy Wilde. You’re due in makeup.”

  ###

  “The film we’ll be showing you is what’s known as rushes or dailies,” the woman showing Thena and Carla around the studio explained. “This is rough, unedited footage, but it will give you an idea of where the director’s vision is taking your book.”

  Thena didn’t really want to do this. She’d sold the rights to Orphan. The money had gone into new fencing for the sheep/llama pen. She had absolutely no say in what the filmmakers did with the book. She’d already decided she wasn’t going to see the movie. She gave her guide a pleading look, but supposed there was no polite way of getting out of sittin
g down and cringing through the show.

  “Are you feeling all right, Ms. Blaise?” the guide asked.

  Her name was Marki Something, and she’d introduced herself as a producer. Marki was slim and lovely, but her hair was red with silver streaks rather than blond. It was a very striking look. There were a couple of young men along on the tour as well. Thena could remember neither their names nor titles. They were handsome and smiled a lot. Nice teeth.

  Thena had been shown sets, talked to someone called an AD, sat across a desk from a man who praised her books, but didn’t seem to have actually read them. She’d had her picture taken with this man.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she told Marki. She stiffened her spine and sat down, ramrod straight. Let’s get this over with. “I’m looking forward to this,” she lied.

  Someone said, “Roll ‘em.” Which was silly, since what actually happened was a button was pressed on a laptop to get digital images streamed to the screen in the front of the room.

  Thena considered closing her eyes as the show started.

  The set was of a bedroom. There were cameras and lights and people. A woman with a sheet pulled up to her bare shoulders sat on the bed. Thena realized this was footage taken by someone filming the filming. Then the camera pulled back to show the soundstage beyond the bedroom set. She saw the naked man lounging against a wall on the right side of the screen, and couldn’t have taken her eyes off him if she tried. Her face flamed, and she went hot all over.

  Oh, good God, all mighty!

  Thena managed—just barely—not to shout these words aloud, thereby saving what little coolness cred she had with these people.

  She managed not to lick her lips or clear her throat before she said, “I don’t remember that in the book.”

  “Sorry about that,” Marki said, although she clearly wasn’t. “Mr. Wilde insists on sharing any embarrassment his female co-stars have doing nude scenes. He’s really sweet in the way he treats women. He says if they have to be naked for a scene, he’s going to be naked too, even if he isn’t on camera.”

  “He doesn’t look like he minds, though,” Thena observed. She was aware of, and surprised by, the sharpness of her tone. She managed a faint laugh. “I think he’s just showing off.”

  Marki laughed too. “He is shameless.”

  Probably because he knew very well that he had nothing to be ashamed of. Hipless, closer to a twelve-pack than six-pack abs, perfect width to the shoulders, sculpted arms—Thena had a thing for sexy arms. Hung like a—

  “Imagine how fine he’d look in a well-tailored suit,” Thena said. “Is this bit of film on the Internet yet?” she asked.

  “I’m sure it will be soon,” Marki answered. She was totally unconcerned.

  But then, the producer hadn’t written Orphan. So why should a bit of porn with a title mentioning “From the set of ORPHAN” going viral bother her?

  Thena tried to conceal her fury at James Wilde.

  “Shameless man,” she muttered. Gorgeous, reckless, stupid, gorgeous shameless glorious reckless man!

  The action on the screen switched to showing the actual scene being filmed. Thena had no idea what happened during the few minutes of action she was shown.

  ###

  The woman was angry with him. James could tell that about her some seconds before she stood and reached out to let him shake her hand.

  The psychic heat of her mood boiled over him the moment she looked his way as he approached the lunch group. He took it personally—he basked in it. Her emotion warmed him more than the sun outside. He thought it might be just as life-giving, and dangerous.

  He grinned, and almost showed a bit of fang as he did so. Oh, my, but this was nice!

  A couple of women at nearby tables sighed at his expression, so he quickly reined it in. He would save it for the woman.

  He noticed her the moment he waded through the usual crowd of photographers outside and stepped into the exclusive little restaurant. He noticed her even before he saw the people waiting for him at the table in the back corner. Lucky for him that she was one of them, or he’d have ignored the meeting to find the woman whose aura sent a tingling buzz through all his senses. He had only a moment to look at her, saw she had the hawk-featured ancient beauty of a Homeric queen, her angular features softened by huge amber eyes. Her face was framed by blonde hair. He thought thick dark curls would suit her better. He got the impression of lush breasts beneath the draped fabric of her teal silk blouse. He would like the feel of silk on her skin, as he took it off. Silk and flesh made a wonderful combination.

  The clothes would definitely have to go so he could get a better look and touch of—

  Then her eyes met his from half a room away.

  Neither of them could look away. Absolutely nobody else existed.

  What? James asked.

  You were naked in front of other women!

  I frequently am.

  Not anymore, you aren’t!

  The amber-eyed queen blinked. The fire in her thoughts went out. She was suddenly blushing. Her shields buttoned up tight and she was a stranger to him at this moment.

  He was aware that she was nervous about meeting a movie star, she was aware of him as a woman, but he sensed this on a normal, just from looking at her non-psychic level.

  She had no memory of their telepathic exchange. No awareness that she had any psychic talent. No awareness of him as anyone but a famous stranger at the moment.

  This was going to be interesting. But not right now.

  James moved forward cautiously, wanting to probe her thoughts, but aware they weren’t alone.

  She stood, knocking over a bag at her feet as she did so. The contents spilled out.

  She looked down at her purse at the same time he took her hand.

  Her hand was small in his, warm and soft. She also shook slightly. Desire shot through them at the point where their flesh touched.

  He kept his mind on the knowledge that he couldn’t draw her into his arms and a kiss this instant. Not in this crowded room. Not with cameras pointed through the window from the outside. He was tempted. Very tempted.

  James thanked years of acting training when he managed to calmly say, “Hi.”

  He waited for someone to introduce them, because he was an old-fashioned, polite Prime. But since none of the Yanks seated at the table remembered their manners, after a few moments, he said, “Your name is Athena, isn’t it? Athena Blaise.”

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “It just came to me.”

  ###

  Thena basked in the man’s smile and his deep voice with its lilting Irish accent for a moment, thinking she might drown in them. Then she got her sense, and her voice, back. “You Googled me.”

  “I did,” he said. “Just as you Googled me.”

  “I checked IMDb.com, actually.”

  “I’m James,” he said. “I’ve read one and a half of your books.”

  “I’m Thena. I’ve seen half of one of your movies.”

  “And we’re both wondering about that half.”

  “The plane was landing, so I had to turn off my laptop halfway through the Under Everest download.”

  “I had to put aside Checkpoint to read new script pages.”

  “I’ll finish watching it on the flight home.”

  “I’ll get back to it after I memorize the new dialogue.”

  “Good movie.”

  “Good book.”

  It was like she’d known him forever, or they were reading each other’s minds. Thena didn’t know what it was, but this was the oddest and, at the same time, the most normal conversation she had ever had....

  ...which probably sounded totally banal to the other three people at the table.

  “We should be seated,” James Wilde said, like he’d just remembered the other people were there, too. He moved to pull out her chair for her, and stumbled over the spilled contents of her purse.

  They bumped their heads wh
en they reached for the purse at the same time. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. Her hands ended up on his waist. They were laughing when their gazes met.

  ###

  The only reason he didn’t kiss Thena then and there was because Marki stood up and nudged him in the back. Hard.

  Marki whispered, “People are taking pictures of this with their phones.”

  Shit! Damn! And hell!

  He glared around the restaurant, and there were indeed some camera phones aimed their way. He expected better of the patrons of such a hard-to-get-into establishment.

  James needed privacy with this woman. Nothing less than complete concentration on each other would do. No time for that now. No place for it, either. Best to get this lunch over with, then he and Athena Blaise—he loved that name!—could go somewhere to be alone.

  “Thanks,” he said to Marki.

  He reluctantly let go of Thena, who quickly sat down again. Then he reached down and gathered up the spilled items. Among them he found a small red velvet bag. He couldn’t resist a look inside.

  “Knitting?” He looked up at Thena. “You knit?”

  ###

  Good Lord, Thena thought. Now he knows what a boring, old-fashioned, stay at home, dull spinster I really am.

  And why shouldn’t he know that? And why should I care? the sensible part of her added. Just because simply being in the man’s presence made for flights of erotic fancy didn’t change the reality of who she was. Thank goodness, she’d be going home tomorrow. Being in Lotus Land wasn’t good for someone like her, who lived inside her own vivid imagination.