Fame Page 3

  “Another image I could’ve lived without,” Sanchez muttered. “She just never quits, does she?”

  “No,” Ariela and Jagger said in unison.

  “You think you’re cute. Don’t you?” Jagger flattened his palms on the desk and hurled his body forward. He’d never been so hot and bothered. Her rage turned him on. Her heat made him horny as all hell.

  “I think I’m in charge of this situation,” she said, storming away from him.

  This time, it was his turn to pursue her. And he didn’t waste time following her lead. He leapt across his desk and took only a second to gain his composure as he slowly inched toward her.

  Leon crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, propping his weight on his shoulder. He silently observed, as if he thought the unfolding event warranted an audience. Sometimes Jagger missed the days when Ariela was his woman and only his woman.

  “Don’t the two of you have someplace you need to be?” Jagger asked, addressing the other males in the room.

  “Not at the moment,” Leon replied. “Besides, you never know when you may need my assistance.”

  About that time, the door swung open and a new arrival sauntered right by Jagger and Ariela, never once breaking his stride.

  “Doesn’t anyone believe in knocking around here?” Jagger glared at the man with salt and pepper hair now standing by the window with one of the most picturesque views in Las Vegas.

  The way Lane Livingston carried himself suggested a man with power and prestige, yet he stood at the window acting as if he were completely taken aback by the sight before him.

  Livingston didn’t acknowledge him. He acted as if he already belonged there, as if Jagger and the others were already anticipating his arrival, perhaps even anxiously awaiting the moment when he would join them.

  Wrong.

  Leon smirked at Jagger. “One of these days you’ll start listening to the folks who can see the future. You might be surprised at how my gifts can help you plan for days like these and men like him.”

  But Lane Livingston wasn’t a man, and that was the whole problem.

  Since the day Jagger had first met Lane Livingston, he’d known he hadn’t met his equal. Oh no. Lane Livingston was no man’s match. He was a symbol of old money, carrying his confidence and wealth on sturdy shoulders, physical boulders that not only balanced the burden of past responsibilities but also allowed others to take a look at him and instantly make judgments. His past had developed and shaped the man.

  Even though Lane’s stature might suggest otherwise, he wasn’t a what you see is what you get kind of fellow. He carried his secrets and guarded them personally, treasuring the well-kept virtue of them.

  “I stopped by with a proposition.” His gaze seemed to wander further into the desert as he straightened his back and seemingly stared beyond the tips of skyscrapers, looking between the buildings to gape at the stretch of desert beyond the city.

  “I can’t help you.” Jagger relished in the sense of power he felt then. He remembered a time, not too long ago, when he had gone to Lane Livingston to ask for his assistance and Lane had turned him away, refused to tell him what he’d longed to know.

  Turn about was fair play.

  Lane faced them. “Ariela, I think this concerns you more than Jagger.”

  “You will deal with her mates,” Sanchez said, undoubtedly grasping the fact that it was safe to call them out as such.

  Lane was one of them, and they all realized as much. Leon, a wizard-shifter, had often shown them the future, and they each understood that Lane would one day join their expanding pride.

  At the moment, he was on the outside.

  “Jagger went to you for advice, and you wouldn’t tell him what he needed to know,” Ariela said. “Now, we live day-to-day wondering when we’ll meet up with Shoc Matheson. We have to look over our shoulders because we don’t know when he’ll reappear. We don’t know what or who he is. The only thing we understand is that he can destroy us, and you know how we can stop him.”

  “And that’s why I’m here,” Lane said. “I’m here to offer my assistance.”

  Ariela took four or five cautious steps toward Lane. Jagger could sense her need, her agitation. He acknowledged Leon making a slight move in her direction, perhaps concerned over her as well. If Lane was her fourth mate—and there wasn’t any reason for them to doubt that fact—then Lane’s presence there only heightened her desire during mating season.

  “You didn’t seem too helpful when Jagger spoke to you a few months ago,” Ariela pointed out.

  Lane narrowed his eyes and gave Ariela one quick visual sweep before he said, “I had reason to believe Shoc Matheson had fled the area. Now, I have grounds to believe he’s back.”

  Concerned looks were swapped around the room. “Leon will know when Shoc reappears. We’ll deal with him then, thank you very much.” Returning the heated visual appraisal, Ariela quickly added, “And one thing we won’t do is fear him.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Leon said, speaking up so Jagger wouldn’t. “Livingston, if you know something, tell us. We’ll listen. Like his brother Barlo, Shoc has an ability that I can’t decipher. I can see our futures unless it includes Shoc, then I hit a brick wall. It’s like a mental barrier, only worse.”

  “Because he has deliberately practiced mind-control to keep you out,” Lane explained.

  Jagger couldn’t help but wonder. Would Leon tell Lane that he occasionally had the same problems with him, or was it one of those things better left unsaid? Lane explained that Shoc was deliberately shutting them out. Wouldn’t he assume that they would suspect the same about him as well?

  Jagger’s mind raced with question after question. Was Lane the same shifter-breed as Shoc? Was he just as dangerous, perhaps just as deadly? Was he the only line of defense they had to protect themselves, and Ariela, from Shoc?

  “How do you know he’s back?” Jagger asked.

  “I was at your show for the opening,” Lane admitted.

  “And he was there too,” Sanchez said.

  “You knew?” Jagger’s voice raised an octave.

  Sanchez slowly nodded.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Jagger,” Leon said. “We both knew Sanchez wasn’t himself.”

  “You should’ve told us,” Jagger said. “I’ll deal with you later.” As if he would have time. During Ariela’s mating-bout, he was lucky if he could do anything more than fuck.

  Yeah, it was hell, but someone had to give it up for a worthy cause. He smirked when Lane glanced at him. He should’ve told him then what he was missing, but he stopped himself from gloating. The last thing he wanted to do was rush the inevitable.

  “I thought it might have been a hallucination,” Sanchez explained, jerking Jagger away from his thoughts. “I’ve had a difficult time with Barlo’s death.”

  Sanchez seemed to provide an explanation to Lane, and in doing so, he was admitting a weakness, too, which left Jagger uneasy. Jagger needed Lane to view them as a strong pride, a group of shifters too powerful to challenge.

  “I’m actually surprised to hear you say that, Sanchez,” Lane said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m pretty sure Shoc’s blood will soon be on your hands, too.”

  Chapter Four

  “A few months ago, you came to my house and asked about the circle of commitment.” Lane sat across from Jagger at the conference-style table with his hands folded in front of him. He had sensed Ariela’s, need and her desire had been enough to alarm him. If Jagger hadn’t sent her away with Leon, Lane feared what he might have done.

  For the time being, he could focus, and perhaps carry on some semblance of an intelligent conversation until she returned. Perhaps if Leon took care of her properly, Lane wouldn’t become so distracted again.

  Jagger, seated in a chair turned about thirty degrees away from the furniture, tapped a fountain pen against the marble tabletop. �
��If memory serves me, you told me not to return to your home, and to cherish the limited time I had left with Ariela.”

  “I didn’t use those exact words, but you’re close,” Lane said, noting the drawn frown crinkling Jagger’s forehead.

  Known in Vegas for his ruthless takeovers and tough business practices, Jagger was seemingly angst-ridden. More importantly, Jagger obviously feared him, and fear was a great tool to exploit in deceptive business plays.

  Sanchez hadn’t stopped sneering at him since he’d sat down. His anger masked his pain, but not in a manner Lane could use, at least not yet. He hadn’t studied Sanchez enough to know whether or not he could use his weaknesses against him.

  “I’m typically a man of few words,” Lane said. “So I’ll cut to the chase.”

  “Of course,” Jagger said, forcing a fraudulent smile. “After all, you’re a very busy man.”

  “A true statement for sure.” Lane straightened his posture. “When you’re my age, you realize, your mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be, and with my—ah, how should I say this—my abilities, a mistake could prove costly, so I’ve come here today in hopes of rectifying the problem.” He focused on Sanchez. “If I do this, I’ll need you and Ariela to strike a deal with me, one you’ll find beneficial due to your need for fame.”

  “You don’t know me,” Sanchez snapped.

  “I can see into the future, without any limitations. Unlike Leon, no one can stop me, or place barriers in front of my sight, to prevent me from seeing what needs to be seen.” He took a deep breath. “Even things I’d prefer not to know are often revealed.”

  “For a man of few words, you’ve said a mouthful.” Jagger rolled up his sleeves. “I believe Mr. Livingston sees a potential friendship with us.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sanchez said, glowering.

  “You’re perceptive,” Lane said, returning the hard glare before studying Jagger. “And you misunderstand my reasons for being here. I told you when you visited my home. We’ll never be friends, but we have a mutual interest—Ariela—and we need to work together so I’ll be—how should I put this—cordial, in our business transactions.”

  “I don’t do business with men I can’t trust.”

  “You don’t have to trust me, Jagger. Leon can see into the future when barriers aren’t placed, by me or others like me. With my help, he’ll be able to tell you my genuine interest here is in providing protection for Ariela as well as Sanchez.”

  “I don’t need protection.”

  “Yes, but you need fame, and you can’t have that unless you have me. As for protecting you, I safeguard my investments, but we don’t need to discuss security now. This is about making you a star. Anyone who has ever been to one of Barlo Matheson’s shows would know you weren’t happy here at the Rise to Power event. Being cast as a different beast, you stood out in a negative light rather than capturing the spotlight, as you normally would have at Barlo’s shows. I have a way for you to find the fame you need and the profits Ariela desires.”

  Sanchez remained unmoved. He didn’t flinch when Lane mentioned the obvious. He didn’t snarl or tighten his fists in anger. He and Lane definitely agreed on one thing. Sanchez had been placed in the background, practically an extra in a film rather than cast in a leading role.

  “Go on,” Jagger said, obviously interested.

  Good thing they weren’t playing cards. Jagger sat up and paid attention, acting as if Lane had just played his hand and turned up a royal flush in a high stakes poker game.

  “To understand my proposal, you need to know why I’m offering Sanchez and Ariela a shot at opening their own venue outside of the casino here, Jagger. It’s simple. Ariela can’t stay here. For a while, you need to keep her away from Pride’s Las Vegas Casino, and it needs to be a natural progression—not an obvious move. Any abrupt changes will alert Shoc to the fact that you know he’s watching you.”

  Ariela and Leon reentered the room. They sat on the sofa, cuddling like lovebirds. The image of them wrapped in one another’s arms greatly disturbed Lane. He adjusted his tie and tried to ignore them. “If Ariela stays here, her true mate will find her with ease—and if he makes it out of here with her, she will be lost to you forever.”

  “I’m her true mate,” Jagger said.

  “No, Jagger, you aren’t.” Lane motioned for Leon. “Come here. I want you to show them something.”

  Leon didn’t move, and noting the planes of determination in his squarely set jaw, Lane grumbled, “Have it your way.”

  He stood, pivoted to the left, and swung his arm to the side. A forced bolt of colorful images erupted against the glass. Lane breathed a sigh of relief as the expanding illusions spread across the window and seemingly stretched beyond the buildings. The mirage unfolded before the sprawling resorts, casinos and hotels. Finally, a translucent tube appeared. A catwalk existed inside the extended stage, and it was surrounded by a large crowd.

  Inside the magical representation, Sanchez lunged forward, the first lion to leap beyond the curtain. Then, he bounded to the end of the platform. Plunging into midair, he shot through a circle of fire, one magnificently created to gleam with sharp flames and jagged, uneven tips.

  Unable to stop himself from peering over his shoulder, Lane was pleased to see the awe and wonder in Sanchez’s eyes. The pale man braced himself against the table, seemingly glued to the representation before them, the glimpse of the future he could have, right along with the raving crowd, now on their feet and applauding Sanchez’s performance.

  “Is this real?” Sanchez asked.

  Lane went to work and provided another scene from their future. “I wouldn’t waste your time if I didn’t believe I was giving you a glimpse of what you could have.”

  Ariela left Leon’s side and stood beside him. “How do you know so much about our futures?”

  She reached out to him and he jerked, unsure if he could handle himself appropriately if her hand touched his while she was in heat. Her scent was already driving him mad, wreaking havoc on the hard, throbbing wedge of flesh nestled between his thighs. The physical ramifications of being this close to her while her breeding season was in full swing, gave him hope. Ariela didn’t know it, but she would mother his son and give him the heir he needed in order to fulfill his destiny and theirs.

  Shoc was their only obstacle. He had the power to change their fate.

  A foggy film covered the glass and a child’s cry rang out in the distance. Lane jerked his arm down to his side, realizing what was about to happen. He jumbled his thoughts and tried not to think about his future offspring, the son these shifters would want to raise within their pride.

  Turning sharply to the right, he ignored the faded image behind him, relieved when the cool breeze from the air vent brought him back to the present. A minute before, he’d felt the heat as if his drawn illusion had created real flames and the blue-hot fires had enveloped all of them, holding them as a captive audience.

  “Why would you show us this?” Jagger demanded. “You know Pride’s Casino just started the show here. We can’t recast our performers and move our stars to another venue.”

  “You can, and you will, if you love Ariela.”

  “This isn’t a question of love,” Leon said reasonably. “It’s a matter of business. Ariela is the show headliner.”

  Ariela glanced at Sanchez. For a split second, just a moment, Lane detected the pity, or perhaps it was a smidgen of guilt.

  Lane needed to teach these shifters a few things. He couldn’t stand much more if they walked around questioning their actions, or feeling guilty for taking what was theirs to have in the first place.

  He narrowed his eyes on Sanchez. Case in point. Sanchez took Barlo’s life before the evil bastard killed him. There was no reason for Sanchez to regret what he did.

  Ariela went to Jagger. “You can replace me. I want Sanchez to have the limelight he deserves. Jagger, you’ve seen him in his lion�
��s form. He’s the most beautiful lion in the world.”

  Lane wouldn’t argue there. He’d seen many shifters and full-blooded beasts, and Sanchez’s lion form was flawless, quite beautiful.

  “He doesn’t need to be here, settling for the background,” Ariela continued. “He should star in his own show. Barlo let him have that much. Maybe he planned to later strip it from him, but for a while, Sanchez knew what it felt like to hear the crowds rumbling with excitement, chanting his name.” Ariela sighed, closed her eyes and added, “There’s nothing like it, Jagger. It’s an adrenaline rush. Fame is the most addictive drug in the world. And when you have it, you relish in the experience. You can’t help but bathe in the luxurious feeling of being loved and adored, honored even. The opportunity to perform in front of those who’ll spend their hard earned money just to see your performance is like everything you’ve ever dreamed of accomplishing, only magnified.”

  Her voice was smooth like brandy and rich like fine wine, but those gleaming eyes were like diamonds, a rare find. She liked fame, too. One taste, one night in the spotlight, had opened up a whole new world to Ariela.

  Sanchez winked at her. “You definitely have the fame part down. And you should. Our audience loved you.”

  “And your audience will love you again, Sanchez.” She thinned her lips and Lane wondered if she realized what her sacrifice would entail. Yes, Ariela clearly embraced the fame herself, but she apparently didn’t understand what opening another venue for Sanchez would mean. Her short-lived time in the limelight would soon fade. When her name reappeared in lights, she would be hailed as a business champion, but not as a performer.

  Lane found great satisfaction in that fact. He’d lure her away from Pride’s Casino, and she’d soon remember her place in her pride as the only lioness-shifter. Her talent was not in front of the crowd but rather behind closed doors.

  He just needed to manipulate the situation so when the time came, she would be more than happy to stay at home with him, minding their cubs in a nurturing lion’s den.