Page 64 of Loup Garou

Crossing one khaki-colored, stretch-knit-clad leg over the other, I clicked the heel of my boot and wished us home. It didn’t work. The compulsion to continually touch the three-quarter length matching khaki blazer was maddening. Whenever I was nervous or on edge, I seemed to take great solace in fidgeting. Now was one such moment. Nervously, I smoothed the tight knit tank top I wore under the open blazer.

Shock of all shocks—it didn’t calm my nerves one bit.

The director clapped his hands and cupped them around his mouth. “Okay, people, time is money. Get Loup Garou out here. Extras, dancers, take your places.”

I perked up and watched the dark set, made to look like a Goth-like prom setting, filled with people. The female dancers all wore corsets, long, layered shirts and heeled, old-fashioned-looking boots. Their hair was swept up in various styles. Each one held a burlesque—beautiful quality that would look amazing with the right lighting.

Male dancers wearing black suit bottoms, suspenders, white cuffed dress shirts and top hats began to fill the area. It looked like a vampire ball. It was stunning. Near the back of the set was a raised stage where the band would no doubt be. Its backdrop was that of a cemetery. Vines and large stone pillars flanked it. Gargoyle statues were littered about as well as blood-red velvet fainting sofas.

I watched carefully as three men walked out and instantly went to the stage. It was a little hard to see the raven-haired man who seemed to be swallowed alive by the massive drum set, but for a brief moment, he’d looked familiar. A tall man with long chestnut-brown hair, tanned skin and a dangerous edge about him held a bass guitar and stared at the female dancers with nothing short of rapture on his face. The other tall guy with short, spiky hair, suspenders, an open shirt and a snug pair of vintage pants went towards a large triple keyboard set up.

The lights dimmed and smoke began to cover the floor, giving the stage a fog-covered graveyard look. Someone bumped into me. I trippedand staggered a bit. Regaining my balance, I found myself staring at a woman who was my height with white-blonde hair that was styled high onto her head. She wore a bright red corset that left her breasts thrust obscenely to the surface. Her skirt was black where all the other dancers’ were white.

Her light blue eyes flickered quickly and I knew then she was no ordinary dancer. She was supernatural. It didn’t shock me.

The woman sneered. “Watch where you’re going.”

Me?

I just nodded, not wanting to argue with her. She needed to get her pasty ass out there and perform. Getting the shit kicked out of her by me wouldn’t help Exavier get his shoot over with today.

Turning her nose up, she laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

As she stormed off, I considered using my power to trip her. I held back. It was hard.

Woohoo for me.

The director stopped the bitchy dancer and smiled. “Hyde, you look lovely. What’s the matter?”

She looked back at me as a small grin spread over her face. “Exavier’s latest conquest is underfoot. I almost broke my neck because she walked right into me.”

The director glanced at me and shrugged. “At least she isn’t throwing herself at him every chance she gets. It’s rather tiring to have to continue to tell him not to bring his flavor of the week in, but you know him. He does what he wants.”

“I can’t work with her here.” Hyde did a rather dramatic hair toss. “She’s disrupting my muse.”

Flavor of the week? Always dragging women in?

I shouldn’t have been jealous. I had no rights to Exavier. The only thing I had was an overactive imagination and a hell of an erotic dream. Nothing more.

Glancing around, I scooped out the nearest exit and headed in that direction. Someone grabbed hold of my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Hey, where are you going?”

I looked up at Exavier and for a moment could only stare at him. They had his hair done so it looked stylishly messy. More so than normal. Black eyeliner circled his blue eyes, drawing them out more. It was faint but needed, to keep him from fading in the camera’s eye. All of his stage make-up was subtle.

The black, long-sleeved, crew-neck mesh shirt he wore showed off his chiseled chest, making my entire body tingle. The snug, black leather pants and boots only served to add to the dark sex appeal.

He arched a brow. “See something you like?”

“Yes, your eyeliner. What brand is it? I think it’s divine.”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled and pulled me into his arms. “Ha, ha. Now, why were you leaving?”

I cast a wary glance towards the director and Hyde. “I think I’m underfoot. I’ll walk around and check back in a few hours.”

“Like hell you will.” His jaw hardened. “I want you here, with me.”

“Pull out your black book and call for backup. I’m sure one of the otherflavorswill be more than willing to jump at your every whim. I’m not one of them.” Unsure where the outburst had come from, I looked away from him and forced a pleasant look to my face. “Sorry, I think I’m tired still. I had some rather odd dreams and didn’t sleep very well. I need some air.”

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