Page 33

Chapter 33

A Star Is Born

KEENAN

“D on’t move,” I tell Vanessa, reaching for the door.

I’m blasted by a chorus of cheers when I step out of the limo. Glaring at the crowd, I motion at the nearest security officer. “I’m here with Vanessa Bedalia. I want to speak with your supervisor.”

“Sir, if Ms. Bedalia would like to exit the vehicle, we have a lineup of arrivals waiting behind her.”

Removing my sunglasses, I stare at the young human male. “That vehicle isn’t moving and Ms. Bedalia will not be exiting until I speak with a supervisor.”

Five minutes later, an older human male arrives, introducing himself as Sheldon Mulberry. “What do you need, Mr. Wolven-North?”

Good, he’s heard of me. “I need Ms. Bedalia moved inside the building without delay. This area is too exposed. And I’ll need a minimum of four of your people on her during the entirety of the event.” I return to the limo, slipping into the seat next to Vanessa.

“What’s wrong?” She’s looking out the back window at the crowd gathered. “Why aren’t we getting out?”

Lifting her hand to my lips, I kiss her knuckles. “We’re waiting for security, sweetheart.”

She turns twinkling eyes to me. “I thought you were all the security I needed.”

“We’ll take all the security we can get,” I counter.

She sighs and sinks into the leather seat. “You can be a stick-the-mud, you know that?”

“I don’t know what that means.” I scan the crowd, searching for potential threats. Lennox warned me to keep my eyes open. Footage leaked of the film set shifter mashup in Mesa and ever since, Hollywood has become a target of ASHRA. They haven’t done more than take out trash ads and put their top people on TV, calling out shifters in Hollywood, but Lennox believes they’ll escalate with violence.

“Stick-in-the-mud means you’re being boring,” Vanessa explains.

My attention swings to my mate. “You think I’m boring?”

She giggles at my offended expression. “Your security rules are boring, Keenan. I can’t pick up the newspaper at the end of the driveway without you causing a fuss.”

“Boring or not, it’s my rules or a gilded cage.”

She kisses me, using her thumb to wipe away the red lipstick she leaves behind. “Your rules are meant to keep me safe, so I’ll abide by them. But I am not for one minute missing out on the red-carpet fun.”

I block her from reaching for the doorhandle. “You will wait for security, and once they arrive, you’ll be taken immediately inside the building.”

“I will not!” she gasps, her expression outraged. “I will wave to my fans, pose for photographs, and answer interview questions like every other actor who walks the red carpet.”

“You will wave as you walk,” I counter-argue. “You may pose for one photograph, and you can talk to reporters inside the building while surrounded by security.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “I’ll wave as I walk, pose for five photos, sign two autographs, and answer questions inside.”

“Two photos, one autograph.”

She sticks her hand out. “Deal.”

Shaking it, I reach around her and open the door. “Let’s do this, sweetheart. This is your moment.”

Her lips stretch into a radiant smile as she steps out of the limo, security surrounding her. I protect her back as we walk, allowing her to stop three times; twice for photos, and once to sign an autograph for a young fan.

One of the reporters shouts, “Who are you wearing?”

“Valentino!” she shouts back. “What a rush!” she squeals as we walk into the historic theatre.

“Vanessa!” Wesselman calls, waving.

She waves wildly back before shouting, “Is Rachel here?”

“She’s talking to the sound department.”

“Vanessa, over here!” A female reporter steps toward her.

I intercept her. “Ask your questions from here.”

Her eyes widen, but she quickly recovers her composure. “Alexia Timmons with Couture Fashion Weekly. How do you feel about sharing the limelight with Vanessa Bedalia? Do you intend to live here in Los Angeles or in Wolf-Haven? What does your bride have to say about the shifter capital?”

I glare at the annoying woman. “Wolf-Haven is the wolf shifter capital, not the capital for all shifters. There’s a difference.” Though I’m not sure I would’ve acknowledged or cared about the difference before meeting my new non-wolf shifter friends. They’ve made me uncomfortably aware that the dominance of wolf shifters has made us too often blind to the plights of our fellow shifters.

The reporter looks as though she wants to say something else, so I hold up a hand. “You may direct your questions at Vanessa as we’re here to promote her film.” When she looks to move toward Vanessa, I stop her. “Ask your questions from here.”

Keeping a healthy ten-foot distance between Vanessa and anyone who isn’t security, I scan the crowd while Vanessa joyously answers questions.

“I haven’t decided on my next project,” she tells a reporter with a smile, “but I’m perusing the scripts my manager sends me and I’ll make a choice soon. Thank you for the question.”

“Vanessa, will you live in Los Angeles or Wolf-Haven after you’ve finished promoting the film?”

I’m annoyed by the line of questioning. It seems to be all these humans care about. Will we live with the humans or will we live with the wolves? It’s no one’s damn business but ours. Still, my ears prick with interest at her answer.

“Of course, we’ll take advantage of our connections to both places and split our time between the two regions. Next question?”

I watch proudly as she deftly handles the reporters with both grace and her signature enthusiasm, quickly charming everyone within her vicinity.

Rachel strides toward us wearing a tuxedo with patent leather high-heeled shoes, her hair slicked back. “Glad you’re here,” Rachel mutters to me, her eyes on Vanessa. “God, that woman’s gold in front of a camera. Don’t be surprised if Zach snaps her up for his next film.” Her gaze moves to her clipboard. “After this, Vanessa will pose with Spoon, Zach, and the other cast in front of the premier posters. Then Lavinia Rose wants to meet her.”

“Who’s that? Another reporter?” I’m done with the reporters. Too pushy. Having them near Vanessa makes me edgy.

“Lavinia Rose is the mayor of Los Angeles,” Rachel replies. “She comes to these things so she can appeal to the youth vote. She’s okay but watch out. She’s curious about you and your brother, King Lock. Maybe wants to establish relations, especially now that Hollywood is outing its shifters.” Her tone is guilty.

“It’s not your fault,” I assure her. “Stelios was targeting shifters. He was the one who outed your shifter-hiring enterprise, not you.”

“Still, if I hadn’t hired him, or if I’d figured out what he was up to sooner, the shifters could have stayed hidden.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Should they have to stay hidden?”

A troubled frown wrinkles her brow. “It should be a choice. An individual one. No one should be outed by a video circulating through social media.”

After the train accident with Jessica, someone recorded the shifters chasing after Stelios, capturing the chaotic sounds and visuals as the animals gave into instinct. And of course, the video went viral.

“A lot of people are embracing the idea of shifters in their movies,” I argue. “This could be the beginning of a movement that allows for better policies between shifters and humans.”

“Or it could be the thing that gets us all killed.” Her voice drops as she whispers, “Have you heard of ASHRA?”

I nod, my eyes still on the crowd milling around Vanessa. “They’re encroaching on the wolves of Wolf-Haven.”

“They’ve sent messages to Zach’s office, telling him to kill the film or suffer the consequences.” She glances around. “Which is why security is so tight around here.”

“You think this is tight security?” I ask her incredulously.

Vanessa joins us, wrapping her arm around mine. “Security is fine, my overprotective husband.” Her attention switches to Rachel. “He’s not happy unless I’m bubble wrapped and locked in a closet.” She reaches out, squeezing Rachel’s hand. “How are you doing?”

They talk for a minute while my eyes rove over the crowd, which is getting thicker by the second. I interrupt their conversation. “Excuse us, I need to move Vanessa.”

“Of course,” Rachel says, pointing to a set of doors. “Through there for photos with the rest of the cast.”

Fifteen minutes later, after a loud and huggy reunion with the other cast members, several photos, and a quick bathroom stop for a makeup check, I lead Vanessa into the theatre. Protecting my mate is beginning to feel like being stuck in a riot with unstable fanatics. Noisy and chaotic. Is that cameraperson really a cameraperson or are they a potential shooter looking for an opportunity? Is the woman approaching us really the mayor or is she a decoy sent by ASHRA to take out the lead actor?

I step in front of Vanessa, heading off a woman wearing a smart red business suit with black high heels. “That’s close enough.”

“I beg your pardon?” she asks, her expression offended until recognition dawns. “Prince Keenan Wolven-North, I presume?” Her tone thaws as she offers her hand. “So nice to finally meet you.”

“I wasn’t aware you were trying,” I say, squeezing her hand briefly.

Vanessa steps out from behind me, taking the woman’s hand. “Vanessa Bedalia. I’m so excited to meet you, Mayor Rose.”

I tug her against my side, breaking her handshake. I don’t trust the mayor’s motives.

“I voted for you,” Vanessa continues. “You had such a wonderful ad campaign about helping the unhoused. I really loved the way you showed how non-police intervention can make a big difference to their lives.”

“Right,” Lavinia looks bewildered for a moment, then gathers herself, her gaze moving to me. “I’d love to meet your brother. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Which brother?” I growl. I don’t care if she is the mayor, she’s standing too close to Vanessa.

“Lock Wolven-North. Isn’t he the King?”

“Sure,” I reply. “What do you want to talk about with him?”

She flounders, as if groping for a commonality between herself and the wolf shifter King. “Fostering relations between our two people.” She gives us a toothy smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“He’s already met the President. What more can you offer?” I slide my hand along Vanessa’s waist, urging her past Lavinia.

“You’re so rude sometimes!” Vanessa whispers once we’re out of hearing range.

“She’s rude for assuming the wolf shifters would want anything to do with a woman who actively promotes human welfare over shifter. She wants to ally herself with a powerful faction, I just don’t know why.”

“How do you know she cares more about humans?” Vanessa shakes her head, then says, “You know what, it doesn’t matter. None of her policies to help the unhoused were implemented and she let the issue die, so she’s lost my vote anyway.”

Inside the theatre, we’re ushered to a sectioned off area at the front where we take our seats. “Too close to the screen,” I mutter, looking to see if there are better seats. “It’ll hurt your eyes.”

She smacks me then arranges her skirt over her knees. “You’re my husband, not my optometrist. Stop being my bodyguard for a minute and let me enjoy myself.” Her frown turns to a grin and she holds her hands out as Spoon and his husband arrive to take their seats next to us.

Spoon takes her hands as he sinks into the plush chair next to her. “Darling, did you see that mob out there? God, I live for this shit.”

“And I die a little inside each time we have to walk a red-carpet,” Gerald grumbles, sinking into his seat and leaning around his partner to say, “Vanessa, Keenan, so good to see you again.”

Once the theatre fills, a hostess invites Wesselman on stage to speak to the audience before the film starts. "Thank you all for gracing us with your presence at tonight's premiere!” he says. “It's been an incredible journey bringing this film to life, and none of it would have been possible without the outstanding talent of our cast and the tireless dedication of our crew. Your support means the world to us, and we hope this film resonates with you as much as it did with all of us during its creation. Enjoy the show!"

A round of applause follows his speech and he leaves the stage, settling into the seat next to Rachel. The running time for his creation is one hour and fifty-eight minutes and as soon as the film finishes, the audience erupts into cheers, surging from their seats.

Startled, I leap to my feet, shoving my wolf back as he tries to surface. Vanessa stands next to me and waves as fans chant her name. When she looks at me, tears of joy sparkle in her eyes.

Rachel reaches around me and grips Vanessa’s arm. “We need you and Spoon up on the stage,” she shouts over the noise.

“Fuck no,” I growl, breaking her grip on Vanessa. “Makes her too much of a target. You didn’t say anything about a speech.”

Rachel sighs, her shoulders heaving as if the weight of the world, or a very large wolf-shifter, are on them. “We didn’t know there would be a standing ovation, but it is customary for the lead actors to speak if they get one. The audience will expect it.”

“Not a fuck?—”

“Keenan, darling.” Vanessa pats my shoulder as she attempts to slip past me. “We agreed I get to make decisions about my career.”

I grip her, stopping her from leaving. “And we agreed, I make security decisions.”

She pouts, her green eyes luminescent as she pleads with me. “Please, Keenan. I want to talk to my fans.”

Damn it.

She knows she has me in the palm of her hand when she does that. “You get two minutes and I’ll be close.”

She grazes my neatly trimmed beard with her lips. “I knew you’d understand.”

“I don’t,” I grumble, but follow her as she and Spoon ascend to the stage.

I stand to the side as they lift their linked hands and wave at the screaming audience together. The noise is so loud, my ears ring in protest, and I shake my head, my hand going to the scar on the side of my head. Once I lost the ear, the interior canal became more sensitive.

I shake my head again, and just as some of the applause and screaming dies away, I pick up on something else. Shouting. Movement. I swivel my head from side to side, trying to figure out where it’s coming from, catching sight of a person running along the back of the theatre, a backpack held in their hands. In jeans, a hoodie, and a baseball cap, they don’t fit in with the elegantly dressed assemblage.

Someone hands Vanessa a microphone. “Thank you all so much for coming here tonight to watch our film. Please, let’s have a round of applause for the master who wrote the script and brought it to life, Zach Wesselman!”

The screams are deafening and the person I was tracking disappears into the crowd. I frantically search for them, before seeing several security officers heading into the crowd after them.

I’m relieved they have a bead on the person behaving strangely, but I need to get Vanessa off the stage and out of the theatre. I take two steps toward her when a sound triggers my sensitive hearing, setting off alarm bells in my head. It was the sound of a detonation.

“Bomb!” I shout, launching myself at Vanessa as an explosion tears through the theatre.