Page 6 of Howl for Me (Moonlight Magic Studios #1)

Chapter Five

Johnny

She’s a little firecracker, and her scent is driving me fucking insane.

Cinnamon and spice, all heat with a hint of sugar. It's just like that attitude she tries to keep under control. Now that Hector is here, she has this cute little act, all wide eyes and innocence, but I see through it. Hell, I smell through it.

I trail behind her to Hector’s office, watching the way her blonde curls bounce with every step. My jaw ticks. I’m not in the mood for Hector’s bullshit today. Not that I ever am.

I’m the star around here; his golden god, his meal ticket, his walking wet dream with a pulse. And thanks to a little soul-binding clause in my contract, I’m his until the day I drop. Which, given my kind, could be a long-ass time. Lucky me.

Cassidy perches on the loveseat like she’s sitting in a damn church pew, spine rigid, hands clenched so tight in her lap I half expect her knuckles to crack. She doesn’t belong here, not in this room, not in this world, and sure as hell not next to me. How she ended up here, I don’t have a clue.

I drop onto the loveseat beside her, sprawling back, arms draped along the top, legs spread just enough to brush against hers. The contact jolts through me, hot and sharp.

We both react at the same time. She jerks forward, scooting to the very edge of the cushion, and I pull back like I’ve been burned.

Good. Let her stay over there. Let there be space between us because, gods damn it, her scent is everywhere.

It’s stronger now, thick in the air between us, warmer, softer, laced with something that worms its way under my skin and settles like a weight in my chest. My lip curls before I can stop it, a reflex, a rejection of the way she’s somehow getting to me.

And she sees it.

Her head snaps toward me, and for a second, all I can see is fire in those eyes. She looks at me like she’d skin me alive if she had the chance and, like she already knows exactly how she’d do it.

Something in her bristles, her scent sharpening, blooming, wrapping tight around my ribs. Then, out of nowhere, it pulls, hard and sudden, like a hook buried deep in my chest.

I grit my teeth and shove the feeling down before it can take root.

Reggie and Teddy waltz in, stoned and grinning, carrying a silver tray like they’re waiters at some cocktail party. They set it on the coffee table; lines of coke neat as stitching, two fat blunts, and a bottle of something dark and expensive sweating at the neck.

Cassidy doesn’t move.

I lean forward, snatch the rolled-up bill, and help myself. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The burn hits sharp, nostrils flaring. Just what I need, a boost of energy, a spike of clarity, my edge sharpened. Hector mumbles something about me being late again, but says he’ll call whatever dame back and we’ll still get the scene done today. He picks up the phone and makes the call.

I glance at Cassidy and offer her the dollar, lifting a brow. “Want a bump?”

She just stares. Big blue eyes, pulse jumping under her throat like a rabbit in a trap. “No, thanks.”

“So, you don’t perform,” Hector says the minute he ends the call, voice slick like motor oil. “But I think I’ve got the perfect job for you.”

Cassidy blinks, posture all polite interest and suspicion. Smart girl to be suspicious of him.

“Would you consider yourself punctual? You know, on time, ready to roll?” He grins. “Are you organized? I see you didn’t touch the tray, so I’m guessing you’ve got your head on straight?”

That smirk on Hector’s face? I know it too well. He’s cooking something up, and it sure as hell involves her. I’ve known this demon for decades, long enough to smell a scheme from a mile away. But whatever this one is, it ain’t my problem.

I lean back on the couch, watching her nod like a good student and answer every question with a clear, steady voice.

It’s a shame she’s not a performer because she has that innocent, pretty quality that sets her apart.

She’s nothing like the others, the women around here who trade fast talk for quick highs and even faster cash.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re beautiful, powerful, and untouchable, but they live fast.

Cassidy seems nothing like that. She’s different, and I can tell. She feels like slow mornings, fresh coffee, and sunlight filtering through soft curtains. I can picture myself tangled in her thighs, letting the day stretch out and crawl by.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

I rub my chest where the ache has returned, low and hot and unwelcome.

It started the moment her scent invaded my space.

It has to be heartburn; there’s no way in hell it’s that.

I stand and walk over to the desk. Hector doesn’t look up, only shifts enough for me to open the top drawer.

I grab the bottle, shake out two chalky antacids, and toss them back like shots.

“You’ll be our star actor’s assistant,” Hector says. “Make sure he gets to set on time and keeps his nose clean. That sort of thing. He’s on thin ice, and I need someone with your kind of fire to keep him in check.”

I almost choke on the chalky tablets. Excuse me?

My eyes go wide, and I slam the drawer shut with more force than necessary.

“So you're saying I’m going to be a babysitter?” She asks.

My mouth falls open for a moment. Rude, “He said, assistant,” I say, already annoyed. “Not a babysitter. A lot of actors have assistants, you know.”

She rolls her eyes again. That’s twice in ten minutes, a sassy little habit of hers. Why is that sexy?

“Sure,” she continues, voice syrupy-sweet with bite, “but most assistants aren’t hired because the actors can’t get their shit together. They help with workload and scheduling. Not damage control. Sounds to me like your star actor is a little full of himself.”

The audacity of this woman.

I feel my lip curl before I can stop it, a growl starting to rumble in my chest.

Hector jumps in, playing with fire. “Oh, he is. Diva in every damn way.”

A growl rips out of me before I can choke it down, low and rough, straight from the chest. Her eyes go wide at the sound, and for a second, I can smell the fear on her.

Good.

“Watch it, Hector,” I snap, voice like ice cracking. “You’re this close to me walking.”

I storm back toward the sofa, all wolf and thunder, and drop down beside my new assistant. Like hell, I will run her off so fast.

“You and I both know you’re not going anywhere, Johnny,” Hector says, voice calm but cutting. “The only reason I haven’t taken your soul yet is because you make me a hell of a lot of money. But don’t forget, if you walk, I take it.”

I growl again, deep and deliberate. I don’t give a shit how uncomfortable it makes her. Let her squirm. Her fear smells even better, and I cover my nose with my hand, then rub furiously, trying to get the smell of her out.

“Souls?” she asks, voice cracking just a little. “Wait… you’re not the actor, right?”

I flash a wide, toothy grin. “Full-of-himself star actor. Nice to meet you.” I throw out my hand like a game show host introducing the next contestant.

She doesn’t take it. Instead, she stares for a beat, then jerks upright and steps back, eyes fixed on me like I just grew claws.

I glance down, just to make sure they’re still hidden.

“His eyes,” she whispers. “And the teeth.”

Even Hector raises a brow. “Yeah, he’s Johnny Howler. He’s a werewolf.”

She looks at him like he’s lost his damn mind, then lets out a short, nervous laugh. “Okay. This is all a joke.”

I arch a brow, amused. Oh, this is rich.

She gestures toward me. “How’d you get your eyes to do that? The teeth I get. Prosthetics maybe. But your eyes, they flashed gold.”

Shit. So they did. Usually, I’ve got better control, but her scent’s messing with my head.

Hector frowns. “Wait, you’ve never seen a werewolf before? How the hell did you even hear about this job?”

She hesitates. “I met Reggie and Teddy at a party last night. One of them said he could get me a job.”

Hector slams a fist on the desk. “Fucking idiots!”

I burst out laughing. Oh, I am loving this.

Those two stoners really outdid themselves this time.

See, Magic Moonlight Studios isn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill production house.

It’s underground, and it’s very not human.

Shifter porn’s my bread and butter, but we’ve got vampires, tentacled fishmen, orcs, ghosts.

Hell, we’ve got a guy who’s invisible.. You want it?

We film it. And sweet Cassidy here looks like she just stumbled into Wonderland and realized the rabbit has a hard-on.

“I’m going to go,” she says carefully, voice thin and shaking. “I appreciate your time.”

Hector cuts her off, all business. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

She freezes.

“You’ve walked into a studio that specializes in a very niche market,” he continues, standing now, pacing like a lion in a cheap suit. “We’re talking humans fucking werewolves. Vampires. Mothmen. Orcs. On camera. For money.”

“Porn?” she gasps, practically choking on the word.

“Oh no,” Hector says, eyes flashing. “Not just porn. Monster porn. And now that you know it exists, now that you’ve seen what we are, I can’t let you walk out and tell the world monsters are real and we’ve got a goddamn franchise.”

She stares at him, wide-eyed. Hector’s red in the face now, shouting, spit flying.

“Jesus,” she whispers. “So, you’re really a werewolf? The eyes… the teeth…”

I grin again, slow and wicked. “The better to see you with, and eat you with, my dear.”

She bolts.

Just like that, straight out the door, no hesitation.

Hector spins on me, furious. “You just had to be an asshole, didn’t you?”

I shrug, laughing under my breath. “Hey, this isn’t my fault.”

“She’s your assistant, Johnny,” Hector growls. “Your last chance. If you screw this up, I’m cashing in your soul.”

I want to tear him apart. Rip the demon’s black heart out and crush it in my fist.

Instead, I turn and follow the scent of my brand-new assistant.

Still spicy. Still sweet.

Still running. She smells so damn good.