Until Arch: Chapter One Preview

Chapter Two

Until Arch Preview 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Raw and Unedited
Subject to Change

“… And that’s it! Take five everyone!” Tyler, the choreographer, shouted as they finished the grueling dance routine. “Renée, luv, you were fabulous as always. Perfection.”

Renée gratefully accepted the towel and bottle of water her assistant, Nadia, handed her. “And you, Tyler, were brutal as always.”

The choreographer laughed. “And that’s why they call me Tyler the Tyrant.” He wiped a towel over his face and bald head. “I think this video is going to be your best one yet. The song is chef’s kiss.” He made a kissing gesture with his pinched fingers to his mouth. “I smell another award. Lots of them.”

“If this music video does get an award, your awesome choreography will be part of the reason.” She gave him a kiss on cheek. “Listen, Ty, I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes. Can I come back to rehearsals with everyone once I’m done?”

“Like I could say no,” he joked. “Yeah luv, you take care of business. Someone’s gotta make the multi-millions, right? Wait—are you meeting with that French fashion house for that collab?”

She laughed, then made a zipping motion across her lips with her fingers. “You know I can’t say anything, but between you and me”—she leaned close to his ear—“you’ll be one of the first one to get a sample.”

Tyler shrieked, clapping his hands together. “And that’s why I love you.”

“You just keep working on the tour choreography.”

“Luv, I am yours, heart and soul, ever since you saved me from having to work on those dreadful West End musicals.” When the dancers started filing back into the rehearsal space, he nodded at her. “Go on then, come back when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Ty.”

Renée crossed the large, airy space toward her dressing room, her assistant trailing behind her. The rehearsal space was a converted loft in DUMBO and had massive windows with an amazing view of the East River and Manhattan skyline. She always loved coming to New York, as the energy here was so different, especially from where she grew up in Atlanta. These days  though, having just finished recording her last album and preparing for her next tour, she spent most of her time in L.A. But she hadn’t stepped foot in her house in the Hollywood Hills, not since—

“Oomph!” She staggered forward as Nadia bumped into her from behind.

“Hey—I’m so sorry!” Nadia disentangled herself from Renée and stepped back. “Didn’t mean to bump into you like that..”

“It’s fine. My fault for just stopping.” Renée took a deep breath and blinked, then glanced around. She did, indeed, abruptly stop right outside her dressing room door. “I’m sorry. I’m just … tired.” You can do this, she told herself as she stared at the doorknob. It’s fine. No one can get in here. With another deep breath, she turned the knob, her heart going a hundred miles a minute as she pushed it open, and …

Nothing.

Relief poured through her as the sight of her empty dressing room greeted her. It was just as she’d left it before she began rehearsals. Her racks of costumes and clothes were on the right side, while the makeup table and mirror were set up on the left. A lounging area was set up in the middle with a white couch, arm chairs, and some refreshments. Her manager wanted to post a bodyguard both inside and outside the dressing room, but Renée thought that was too much considering that there were already six bodyguards downstairs at all of the entrances and exits. Besides, even though she’d been in the music business over a decade, she still couldn’t get used to having guards so close in her personal space.

Sinking down on the white couch, she took another sip of her water.

“Do you need anything else, Renée?” Nadia asked. “Some food? Or a smoothie?”

She waved her away. “I’m good, Nadia. I’m just waiting for—” A knock on the door interrupted her. “Can you see who that is?” She prayed that was who she thought it was.

Nadia darted to the door and opened it a crack, then pulled it all the way. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s … it’s you!” The assistant stepped away. “Please, come in.”

Renée shot to her feet as she saw the other person come in. “Charley!” she screamed as she ran toward the door. “Oh my Lord!” She enveloped her friend in a hug. “It’s been too long.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“I know, I know.” Charley stepped back, and her toffee brown eyes too, were wet with tears. “A few years at least.”

“Ten years and four months. My eighteenth birthday party.” They decided to part ways soon after that and while their professional breakup had been hard on Renée, she understood why her friend had to leave and supported her all the way.

“This is too cool,” Nadia burst out. “I mean … I’m sorry!” The poor girl’s face turned all red. “It’s just … you two were my jam growing up, you know? You guys were all over my bedroom wall.” She gestured in the air, making a shape like a marquee. “Renée Rose and Charley Star! The Wonderland Divas! I’m so thrilled seeing you two together. Ms. Star, it’s an honor.”

“Er, thanks.”

Renée shot Charley an apologetic look. “Nadia, could you go find Hailey and tell her to come here, and then maybe grab us some coffees? Iced americano, extra ice, right Char?”

“Of course,” she said with a laugh. “You remembered.”

“And an iced latte for me.” Renée gently pushed her assistant toward the exit. “Thanks, Nadia.” Closing the door behind her, she leaned back and let out a breath. “Sorry, about that Char.”

“No worries,” Charley chuckled. “I’m surprised she remembers who I am, especially when you’re the bigger name now.”

“Ah, those were the days, eh?” She looped her arm through Charley’s and led her toward the couch. “Back when we were Spencer’s brightest stars.” The Spencer Corporation was a mega-corporation that specialized in family-friendly entertainment.

“With our own TV show on the Spencer Channel,” Charley said wryly.

“And tours all over the US, and of course, appearances at all Spencer theme parks.” Renée sat them down on the couch. “Remember when you threw up on Chase Mountain?”

“That’s because you dared me to eat all that ice cream before we got on.” Charley waved a finger at her. “Oh God, I could reminisce with you all day, Renée.”

“Me too.”

“But I’m here because you called.”

“I know.” Her voice lowered. “Thank you.” She moved in for another hug. “I didn’t think you’d come so fast though. I just called you the day before yesterday.”

Charley’s expression turned dark. “We’re talking about your life here, Renée, I wasn’t going to dilly-dally. And I’m glad you called me. You should have done it sooner.”

She shrugged. “It was harmless at first, you know. But also, I heard you’ve gone through a lot in the last couple of months. So, you’re really … one of them? A Supernatural?” She put her hand over her mouth. “I mean, sorry, is it okay to say that? I hope it’s not offensive.”

“No, no, not at all.”

“I called, you know. Left you a message.”

“I heard it. Thank you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you back, it was a crazy time.” Her lips pressed tight together, and she paused, as if trying to decide if she should say more or not. “But you understand why I had to keep it from you, right?”

“Of course. But I still can’t believe all this time … you-you can turn into a wolf?” Everyone had heard about the Supernaturals of course, after that incident in Connecticut followed by the congressional hearings.

“Yep, pretty much.”

“But how did the press find out you were one of them?”

“My mom, of course,” she said. “She came out in support of our clan.” Charley’s mom, Evie King, was a superstar in her own right, a multiple-award winning Broadway star, singer, and composer of several hit stage shows and soundtracks for blockbuster movies.

“Is she—”

“No, it’s my dad who’s a Lycan. I mean, she’s human, but her mom is—er, it’s complicated. Can we talk about something else?”

“How about telling me why you quit the tour with—”

“Except that.”

Renée didn’t miss the way Charley’s lips pursed and her arms crossed over her chest defensively. “All right, not now maybe. But, you said you were bringing someone who could help me? Your uncle or something?”

“Oh yeah. See, my family has a security firm based here in New York. Uncle Killian’s the head honcho, but he’s letting his son, my cousin Arch, handle everything. He’s downstairs waiting to meet you. I said I wanted to have a few minutes alone with you before he came up.”

“So your family … all of them are—”

“Lycans, yes. And if this guy who’s stalking you is as dangerous as you said he is, then they can help, not to mention, they’re very discreet. They work on extremely high-level stuff. Foreign governments and big corporations, that kind of deal.”

“All right, I’d like to meet him. And so will Hailey, my manager.”

Charley stood up. “I’ll go get him then. Be right back.”

Renée smiled to herself as she watched her friend hurry out the door. Same old Charley. They’d known each other since they were teens and even after all these years, they’d picked up that easy friendship as if they hadn’t spent a day apart. But that what was real friendship was, and it was a good reminder for herself that such relationships could exist for someone like her. Honestly Renée couldn’t think of anyone else she could consider a real friend. It really was lonely at the top.

I’ve become a cliche.

She’d worked her ass off to be where she was, transforming herself from plain old Lisa May Johnson to Renée Rose, international superstar. Every musician on the planet wanted to be her. She had multiple music awards under her belt, over two hundred million records sold worldwide, and numerous accolades from the music and entertainment industry.

I deserve this.

Yet, she was still only human. There were times she craved what others had. A normal life, being able to walk to the corner store without being recognized and surrounded by fans and papparazzi. Maybe even time for a family of her own, a husband and kids. She often wondered what life would have been like if she had stayed Lisa May Johnson.

The knock on the door knocked her out of her thoughts. “Come in.”

“Hey, kid.”

It was Hailey Ashton, her manager. At five foot flat, with long platinum blonde hair and a big smile, most people thought Hailey Ashton was an angel. And she was—until you crossed her. Then she turned into a bulldog. She was the best manager in the industry, and she helped guide Renée’s career into what it was now by being ruthless and cutting only the best deals for her.

“Nadia said you needed me.” Walking in, Hailey sat down next to Renée. “Is Charley here already?”

“Yeah, she just went to get someone and she’s coming right back up. How’s everything?”

Hailey sat down with her and they chatted about business until another knock came at the door. “That should be them.” Renée stood up and strode across the room. “Charley, are you—” She stopped short as it wasn’t her friend on the other side of the door when she opened it. Craning her neck up, she looked at the stranger.

Oh Lord.

Renée had seen her share of hot men in her life and she’d even dated a few of them—movie stars, models, fellow musicians. However, attractive didn’t even begin to describe the man on the other side of the door. He was over six feet, with broad shoulders that not even his expensive suit could hide. He was handsome in that classic, Hollywood way with dark brows, a straight aquiline nose and a square jaw, but what had knocked the air out her body was the intense stare from his violet eyes. They were the color of irises and right now, they were fixed on her.

“Ahem.” Charley peeked from behind the handsome stranger. “Renée, this is my cousin, Arch Jones.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Rose.” His low, rough baritone caused a shiver to run down the backs of Renée’s knees.

“I … uh … yes …” Get it together, girl. “Mr. Jones, come in.”

Somehow despite her wobbly knees, she made it back to the couch. “Charley, Mr. Jones, this is Hailey Ashton, my manager.”

They all exchanged pleasantries and handshakes. “Please, have a seat,” Hailey said, gesturing to the two chairs across the couch. She and Renée settled down.

“Mr. Jones—“

“Arch, please,” he said.

“Arch,” Hailey began. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Have you been briefed on the matter?” Being swift and efficient, Renée was not surprised that her manager went straight to business. Time was money, after all.

“Not on the details. Charley said Ms. Rose had a stalker and that he had to be dealt with quietly.”

“And quiet is your specialty.” It was statement, not a question. “I did some initial searches on the Internet about Lone Wolf Investigations and Security and couldn’t find anything. Except about what’s been written about Connecticut and the hearings.”

“Then you’re aware of what we are,” he stated. “And you have no problem with that?”

Another shiver ran through Renée, though for a different reason this time. This man turned into some kind of animal with fur and teeth and claws. Would he be able to help her or was she putting herself in more danger around him. There was no way to answer that, of course, but she had to at least trust Charley would never let anyone—or anything—hurt her.

“I’ve seen a lot of things in this business, Arch, nothing can surprise me anymore,” Hailey said, a smile touching her lips. “But no, I have no problem with that. And when it comes to protecting Renée, I’ll do anything.” She sent Renée a reassuring smile.

Arch leaned forward, his stare intensifying. “Tell me what you know about this stalker. Everything from the beginning.”

“At first it was harmless,” Hailey began. “I mean, nothing out of the ordinary for someone in Renée’s position. She gets tons of fan mail and a lot of them are … well, unhinged, to say the least. I have a whole team whose job is to open her physical fan mail and emails, and they get the craziest things. Letters, packages, and yes, some not so nice. The worst ones we pass to our security company—sorry, former security company—Blackthorne International.”

“Former?”

“Soon-to-be former,” Hailey clarified. “After the incident the other day, we’re in the process of firing them, which is why you’re here.”

“I see. Please go on.”

“Aside from Renée’s security, they’re in charge of assessing any threats. Apparently, we’ve been receiving letters and packages from this same guy but they never thought him a serious risk. Until the other day.”

“What happened?”

Hailey opened her mouth to speak, but Renée raised a hand. “It’s okay,” she said before Hailey could protest. Her chest squeezed tight at the memory, but she pushed herself to speak. She didn’t know why, but she had to do this herself. “A couple of days ago, I came home from a dinner party in Beverly Hills. I opened the d-door and …” Her lips trembled. “The entire living room was covered in rose petals and candles. A-and …” Hailey squeezed her hadn’t and she nodded at her gratefully. “H-he was there, standing in the middle of the room, h-holding a bouquet of flowers.”

Arch muttered something under his breath. “What did he do?”

“H-he welcomed me home, like … like he was supposed to be here.”

Hi, honey, welcome back.

“I screamed and h-he lunged at me. Thankfully, the door was still open and I ran out.” Her heart rapped out a rhythm like a snare drum. “He started screaming at me … begging me to come back. My security team came in, and chased him down, but he managed to get away.”

“He’s crazy,” Hailey continued. “Apparently he has some delusion that he and Renée are together. The letters … they were sweet at first, then they escalated when she didn’t reply. The last one, dated a few days before the break-in, said he’d be coming for her.”

Renée shivered. “I never knew … no one told me.”

“And that’s why we’re firing our security company,” Hailey said. “They didn’t lift a finger, not with all the red flags.” She grit her teeth. “They even had the guy’s name for god’s sake!”

“So, who is he?” Arch asked. “And how did he get into the house?”

“Scott Dawson,” Haley informed him. “Thirty years old, former Navy SEAL, dishonorably discharged a few years ago.”

Arch clasped his hands together. “Makes sense. He’d know how to infiltrate a heavily-guarded house and plan out an escape route if things went south. It would take a lot of work, but it’s possible. Do you have a file on him?”

“Just arrest records from the LAPD. He’d been booked once before for disorderly conduct.” Hailey’s nostrils flared. “We called them, but we haven’t filed any formal reports. We couldn’t risk getting a squad car out there. The press has Renée on their radar twenty-four seven. You can understand why we would want to keep this under wraps, given who she is. Opening an official investigation with the LAPD will be messy, plus they’ll want to interview her and who knows what could leak out?”

Arch turned his violet gaze on her, his expression turning soft and comforting. “What can I for you then, Ms. Rose?”

A sense of calm swept over her. “I just want the guy caught and turned over to the police.”

“Along with all the evidence needed to put him away, without Renée having to testify,” Hailey added.

“The police and DA’s office are overworked enough as it is,” Renée added. “I don’t want to take away resources that could be used to fight real crimes.”

“Stalking is a real crime,” Arch pointed out. “But, I understand. You want us to deliver the whole package—evidence and your stalker—to the cops and the system can take care of the rest.”

Hailey nodded. “Exactly. With her being so high-profile, I’m sure the police and the DA will want a quick trial.” 

“So, security for Renée and locating the suspect.” Arch rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “We can definitely do that. In fact that’s right in our wheelhouse.”

“And everything needs to be above board and legal.” Hailey pressed. “The last thing we need is for him to get away on a technicality and bad press for Renée if there’s even a hint of anything illegal or violation of civil liberties.”

Violet eyes intensified. “If that’s what you want.”

Renée saw something in Hailey she’d never seen before—fear. It was fleeting but it had been there. She couldn’t blame her manager though as she felt it grip her too, not because of what Arch said but that he didn’t say aloud: that if they didn’t want to do things within the bounds of the law, he could make that happen too.

“When can you start?” Hailey asked.

“As soon as we iron out all the details and sign the contracts. From what I gather … we’ll need round the clock protection for Renée, which means four of my guys will be with her at all times. Then I’ll assemble another team to track down Dawson.”

“Four?” Hailey raised a blonde eyebrow. “Right now we have sixteen bodyguards working for us.”

“In shifts,” he said. “My guys don’t need to sleep much, plus they have special skills yours don’t.”

“I see. But that won’t cover what we need when she’s at events and definitely not on tour. Aside from her personal bodyguards, we have forty people on staff guarding her homes in LA, Atlanta, Miami, and New York. Plus security staff for her tours alone are about minimum a hundred people, and that’s just in the smaller venues .”

“I wasn’t aware that your current contractor handled everything, but it makes sense why they could get sloppy and complacent. But, don’t worry, I’ll talk to the CEO of our parent company. He’ll have that kind of human personnel who can handle crowd control, as well as home security.”

“Human?” Renée asked. “I thought Charley said you were an all-Supernatural crew.”

“Lone Wolf is, yes. But we don’t have three hundred agents. Currently we have forty-two Lycans and hybrid agents.”

Charley spoke up. “I think there’s about, oh, three or four hundred Lycans in total in New York? Despite what the press says, there’s not that many of us. Hybrids even less, and two of them are my cousins.”

Curious, Renée asked, “What’s a hybrid?”

Arch hesitated, but after a nod from Charley, he said, “A cross between a witch or warlock and Lycan. They inherit traits of both parents. They can turn into wolves, but also possess special magical powers, like controlling fire or teleportation.”

“Goodness.” Renée pressed a hand to her chest. “Magic and witches, too?”

Arch cleared his throat. “I assure you, Ms. Rose, Ms. Ashton, we have more than enough capability to handle all your needs.”

Hailey turned to Renée. “Why don’t we talk about this first?”

“Of course.” She stood up. “If you don’t mind, Charley, Arch …?”

“Not at all.” Arch rose to his feet. “Please, take your time. I’ll put a proposal together nonetheless and send it over.” He handed Hailey his card. “And call me anytime if you have any questions.”

“Thank you, Arch. We’ll be in New York until the end of the week finishing up this music video.”

“What are you doing in the meantime to keep her safe?” he asked. “I noticed you only have six guys posted at the exits and entrances. What about her home? And the other floors in this loft? Your security company should also have at least a couple guys scoping out the nearby buildings.”

“I’m a singer, not the president,” Renée said with a laugh. Arch, however, kept the same serious expression on his face. “No one except the people inside this building know I’m here and they’re all bound by NDAs. I borrowed a friend’s jet which landed in Boston, then we drove down here. Nothing can be traced back to me or my production company.”

“I’ve tipped off the press that she’s possibly in Atlanta and I’ve limited Renée’s schedule for now so she’s not doing anything in the city, and she’s staying in an apartment around the corner. I’m not even letting her see the outside. She goes from here, to the garage, then a car drives her to the garage of the apartment building where she’s staying.”

Violet eyes darted toward Renée briefly before focusing on Hailey. “All right then, Ms. Ashton, I’ll get that proposal to you as soon as possible.”

Charley got and hugged Renée. “I know you’re busy with rehearsals and your music video shoot. But I’ll be in the city, at least for the foreseeable future. I’m here if you need me.”

“Seeing as you have some free time on your hand, maybe you can write me that hit song you’ve been promising me for … oh, about ten years now?” Aside from being a great singer, Charley was a phenomenal songwriter, yet for some reason, she’d never released any of her own stuff. As far as she knew, Charley had only shared her songs with Renée. “You owe, me girl.”

Charley laughed. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“Never.” She hugged Charley. “But thanks so much. For everything.” She turned to Arch and held her hand out. “And thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome.”

As the large hand wrapped around hers, the most curious zing of electricity shot up her arm, startling her. When her head snapped up to meet his gaze, she could have sworn she saw his eyes flash with an unearthly glow.

What the—

He quickly pulled his hand away. “We can find our way out.” With that, he and Charley left.

Once they were alone, Hailey let out a breath. “I was lying earlier. I can still get surprised. And unnerved.” She plopped back down on the couch. “Witches, wolves … this is the world we live in now, I guess.”

“Times are changin’,” she sing-songed with a nervous laugh. She rubbed at her right arm, wondering if she’d hallucinated that sensation. “What do you think? About going with Lone Wolf for my security?”

Hailey shrugged. “I mean, what have we got to lose? Anyone else we hire will just be like Blackthorne. Maybe this unique problem requires a unique solution.”

Renée let out an inner sigh of relief, glad that Hailey wasn’t going to fight her on this. “I’m tired of being scared, Hailey,” she confessed. “The past couple days, I haven’t been able to sleep. Even opening doors turns me into a wreck.” Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could picture was the sight of Dawson in her living room. “I just want this over with. Knowing that he’s behind bars will make me feel safer.”

“I know, kid.” She wrapped an arm around Renée’s shoulders. “How about a trial run? If they can catch Dawson, we’ll hand over the entire contract to them. That’s millions per year in revenue for them. That should be enough to light a fire under their asses so we can contain Dawson.” She got up to her feet. “I’ll see if I can catch them before they leave.”

“Thanks Hailey.”

As soon as her manager left, Hailey bounded over to the large windows, which had a view of the parking lot and exit below. A few heartbeats later, Charley and Arch emerged and walked across the lot to the lone Jeep Cherokee in the far end, stopping only when Hailey caught up to them.

Renée held her breath, watching Arch as he spoke to Hailey. A sliver of heat shot through her as she remembered the way her skin tingled when they shook hands.

Oh no.

Don’t you dare, find him attractive Lisa May Johnson.

Please no.

Don’t. You. Dare.

Renée softly banged her head on the windowpane.

It was too late.

 

 

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Releases April 2023