Wicked Release (13 page)

She had to get away. “It should be easy for us to get out of here then. Where are they?”

Conway blushed as they reached the cloakroom. “Upstairs, celebrating their successful matching.”

She should have known from the way her brothers were acting. From Callie’s strange behavior. She’d known about her friend’s crush on Tucker, but the way she’d been whenever Tyghe’s name was mentioned this last week was, well, telling. They were her Triune. Shit. Had Jenner known that too? Was Harrison the only one who’d been in the dark all this time?

She couldn’t think about this now. She had to get out of here before those two on the stairwell sniffed her out. Had to stop them from dragging her off to the Proxenos to be officially claimed.

“Con, I’m calling in all my chips. You have to do me a favor. A big one.”

Conway didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go. You can tell me on the way.”

A few hours later, after climbing up the trellis to her bedroom to change her clothes and grab a few necessities, she had one last thing to do.

Conway was pacing at the edge of her bed. “I can’t believe you’re really going through with this, Harry. They’ll be worried sick. Is this about those men you were telling me about? The reason you were glowing like you’d just found your magical Prince Charmings? Or something else?”

She opened her jewelry box and placed her necklace inside, leaving a long note on top of the closed lid for her family. “It’s everything, Con. You know it. I need this. Just a little bit of time to be myself before I give in to what everyone else expects me to be.”

Conway nodded, a look of empathy on his roughly attractive face. “I know it. Hell, your brother Lorie and I used to talk about it. We could never decide if we envied you or—”

“Pitied me?” Her chuckle was bitter. “The funniest part is, I’ve never understood what it is that makes me so damn special. Because I know more spells? Well that’s thanks to all my teachers who expected me to learn them. Is it because I have no specific power? I’m not a grower or a compeller, not a seer or even a protector like you. If anything, that makes me more oddball than great.”

She shrugged, at a loss. “I love my family, but they don’t understand what it’s like. And Lorie? I envy
him
. He lives the way he wants, without any expectations. He gets to be a dreamer with his nose eternally in some dusty book. I never had that luxury.”

Her cousin grimaced. “That’s a double-edged sword, Harrison. Out of all of you, Lorie needs the biggest kick in the pants. Waiting for him to wake up so we can find our match is wearing on my patience. He hasn’t returned any of my phone calls in a month. If it didn’t happen on a regular basis, whenever he got lost in his library research, I’d be worried. He’d miss his entire life if given the chance. And our mate could have decided to give up by now.”

The worry on her cousin’s face required a much longer conversation than she had time for. She knew Conway was frustrated. Of course he was. He and Lorie were two thirds of a triad that might never be found. Not unless the perfect woman slipped between the pages of one of Lorie’s books. “But he’d get to, Con. As much as it ticks you off,
he
still gets a choice. And even if it’s a temporary illusion, I want one too.”

In her bag was everything she’d been gathering for the last year, from recipe books to classified ads. Most importantly, enough potion to last her at least six months. She’d never thought she’d have the guts to actually do it. But after her powerful reaction to those Magians at the club, how intensely she’d been drawn to them despite what they’d said about her, she knew she couldn’t allow them to find her. She wouldn’t.

She turned to Conway. “You know what to do? And Callie’s new to being Magian, but she’s a good compeller already and—”

He held up his hands. “I know, I know. I’ll shield myself around her, and make sure I take a potion or two before she and Tucker give me the third degree. Honestly, I’m more afraid of what Jenner will do to me.”

“Nothing,” Harrison was adamant. And very aware that the housekeeper had returned and was even now downstairs in the kitchen, able to realize they were here at any moment. “She owes me, too, and she knows it. She was a morph and didn’t tell me, she knew Callie was a Magian, and she didn’t tell me. If she wants my trust back, she’ll have to keep my brothers from calling an all out manhunt. And Callie will help them understand.”

A part of her wanted to unpack her bags and be there for Callie when she got back. To celebrate with her and find out about everything that had happened. To tell her best friend all about her own bizarre experience. But her survival instincts had kicked in with a vengeance. This was her window of opportunity. The only chance she might get. If she was going to do this, it had to happen now. While her brothers were distracted, her parents away. While she still had the guts.

Conway cupped her shoulders in his hands, his soft, moss green eyes compassionate. “I’ll be there for you. You have my phone number. If you’re blocked from magic all you have to do is call and I’ll move heaven and earth to get to you.”

She smiled. He’d always been a good friend. “Yes, I have your cell. I also have a pocket full of cash, and finally a little independence…what more could any girl ask for?”

A pair of dark, mysterious eyes sprang to mind, but she instantly pushed the image away.

That snooty fucking Abbott bitch
. Isn’t that what the other one, what Ric, had said? Her teeth clenched. They wouldn’t have to worry about her. She was taking a vacation from demanding, self-important male Magians.

Especially ones who so obviously didn’t want her.

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Chapter One

“Cue the music. Welcome to
Shifting Reality
, blah, blah, blah, etcetera, etcetera. Tonight, instead of regaling you with my latest sexual conquest—don’t be disappointed—or my roommates unusual, um, eating habits, I thought we’d go back to the beginning. Just you and I, alone, having an intimate one on one. But first, let’s address those naysaying emails.

“This video journal has been online for nearly a year. If, after all you’ve seen and heard, you don’t yet believe—then you are no doubt one of those people who still thinks the earth is flat and there isn’t an alien colony on the moon. That’s okay. I love a little healthy skepticism. It turns me on. I’m beginning to think the government is on to something. The more I put the truth out there, the less you believe it.

“But if you have a shadow of a doubt, or if you’re interested in getting to know me a little better, what I’ve planned to celebrate our one year anniversary should be right up your alley—and mine. Saint, Mac and a few of my more interesting friends are having a contest—think
Survivor
meets
Fear Factor,
only a lot more relaxed, far more comfortable, and I promise you won’t have to put anything in your mouth…that you don’t thoroughly enjoy.

“We will choose nine humans to come and play at an obnoxiously large castle in Scotland owned by your favorite vampire and mine, my roommate Mac. If picked, you’ll be the starring attraction for a week of
Shifting Reality
. Those who stay at home will be able to play as well, asking our guests questions, and suggesting the trouble they’d like to see us get into together. Those who can last all seven days will receive fifty thousand dollars each, a vacation in Scotland and some up close and personal time with yours truly. Which, let’s be honest, is the best prize of all. Here kitty, kitty. You know you wanna play.”

Margo paused the video on his cocky smile, complete with sharpened incisors. God, he was sexy. She licked her lips, then blushed, though no one could see her. No one knew she was watching him.

Thomas “Tomcat” Lyons, the star of
Shifting Reality
and her most sizzling fantasies. Had it only been six months since her friend forwarded her that email? The one that contained one of his juicier journals, where he described what he felt when he took a woman. How intensely he could scent her need, how each woman had her own special aroma that changed with her arousal?

At first she thought it was just a random link. An R-rated one to be sure, but still. She’d seen the web address at the bottom and curiosity compelled her to search the unusual site. She’d clicked on each and every journal entry, sitting in front of her computer for hours. She’d watched it evolve from one man’s
My Shifter Showmance
private rant at having to hide what he truly was, to cameras capturing unusual but captivating conversations between the three stars of the series.

There was Mac, the rather moody vampire, clearly uncomfortable at being in the spotlight, despite his beauty. Saint, the distracted techno-genius, a morally ambiguous demon half-breed who enjoyed computers more than Margo enjoyed chocolate. And then there was Thomas Lyons. Smart as a whip, kinky enough to own one, and so openly and unapologetically sexual that you could almost believe he was what he claimed to be. Namely, a genuine non-human cat shifter.

Realistically, Margo knew that the trio had to be actors. They were certainly gorgeous enough. Or hungry scriptwriters looking for backing. Several people had taken their stories online during the writer’s strike, opening up an opportunity for new talent.

Perhaps it was a unique pitch meant for her boss, and they thought they could get to her through her friend. Being an assistant for the head of a production company ensured she had a lot of people finding creative ways to meet her. As though she had any control over what the company chose to develop. Sidling up to her at parties, in grocery stores, even singing telegrams explaining why their story was the next big thing.
Star Wars
set as a musical in the fifties or something equally world-altering. But this was different.

There were no behind the scenes bloopers, no bios to indicate they were actors, or information on how to contact them. Nothing on their site took away from the illusion that these men were not men, but creatures, straight out of fantasy and myth. And the men themselves so perfectly played their roles that even Margo, cynic that she was, found herself drawn into their world.

Like dark chocolate, steamy romance novels and shoes,
Shifting Reality
had become her closet addiction, her secret guilty pleasure. She’d logged onto the site under a screen name to discuss the show with likeminded others. She took her laptop to bed each night to watch the latest installment or bemoan the lack of one. She’d even chatted with
him
several times. Or someone pretending to be him. Online you could never be sure. Thomas Lyons. She flirted with him under her screen name in a way she’d never have the courage to in person. Despite knowing he was a made up character, an illusion, she lusted after him.

She couldn’t understand why she was so drawn to him. Hadn’t she sworn off bad boys long ago? And he
was
a bad boy in every sense of the word. If he was real, he was one of those men Margo would never allow herself to date, even casually. He went through women and men like a drunk went through wine, loving every sip, but always moving on to the next shiny new bottle. No apologies, no remorse. He was a tomcat after all. It was his nature.

Still, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. She felt like a teenager, a groupie. She was way too old for this, but she couldn’t deny it. She had a crush on a guy who liked to play dress up and have his teeth sharpened.

The link to enter the contest flashed beneath the frozen video, taunting her. There was no time in her  life for wishful thinking. She was surrounded by eccentric and visionary directors and writers. She had to be the calm, realistic center.

Anyone who’d known her when she was younger would laugh until they cried hearing that. Margo Sheffield, responsible and realistic? She had changed a lot in the last few years. For the better, in her opinion. The wild child who’d come to Hollywood on a dare, who’d had dreams of fame as a singer only to end up getting into one bad situation after another, was a part of the past. Dead and buried, though Margo knew she would spend the rest of her life paying for her youthful mistakes.

She studied Thomas Lyon’s knowing grin again and sighed. She needed to get out more. Find a normal man to daydream about. In L.A., that would be a challenge, but surely there was one guy out there.

Just one who hadn’t been a semi-star on a reality show, a moody rocker who wouldn’t appreciate her or an agent who promised anything to anyone, as long as he got what he wanted. She mentally added “man who believed he could grow a tail and whiskers on command” to her list. So why was she hesitating? Why was her finger still restless, itching to click her mouse, to enter the contest?

She looked down at Hailey, sliding her hand through the blue-black fur of the sleeping cat. “At least I’m a cat person.” She sighed. “It’s not like I’d be chosen anyway.” But she knew it would drive her crazy if she didn’t try. The part of her that melted every time she heard Thomas’s seductive purr knew she had to take this chance. A chance in a billion to see him face to face.