The Last of the Monsters (21 page)

They both moaned as he slid in. Akta was acutely aware of the pressure of the plug in her ass, the tug of the chain on her nipples…and the weight of her engagement ring on her finger.

“I love you,” she breathed against his temple.

“I love you too.” Henry gripped her hips. “Move.”

Grinning, Akta obeyed.

Chapter Fifteen

“I feel sick,” Cali whispered.

Akta agreed, but she was too nervous to even say anything. They were in the balcony of one of the sneak preview theaters, waiting to see the audience’s reaction to the film. They’d limited the tickets and the number of theaters for the sneak peek. There were three showings here in LA, two in New York and another in Chicago.

The reviews after last night’s critics’ screening were so scattered that they had no idea what to think. Some had claimed that
Truth in Darkness
was the “action movie the summer was waiting for”, seeming to miss the point. Others said nothing about the movie, but ranted about how this was all an elaborate PR stunt to sell action figures—close, but not quite right.
 

Only the
Los Angeles Times
critic had addressed the issue that the monsters were real, and even then he had had a hard time believing it.

Could it be true? Monsters have walked among us all this time? I come away from this movie knowing that’s what I’m meant to believe, but I don’t. The climax of the movie, when the hero is given the ability to change into a human so he can be with the heroine, explains how we might not have known about these apparently shape-shifting creatures, but I’m afraid it asks too much of my suspension of disbelief. It’s a good summer blockbuster if you ignore the proposition that the actors are not just men, but truly are the monsters they portray.

“Here we go,” Cali said.

She and Akta leaned over the rails, watching not the movie but the audience. They hadn’t wanted to risk test screenings, so this was a cold showing—if one part of the movie fell flat, it was too late to edit.

The audience was engaged—gasping, laughing and jumping when appropriate. In the final scene, when Ebon shifts to human, there were mutterings in the crowd. Akta leaned forward.

“If we can walk among the humans like this,” Ebon said to the king, “we can tell them the truth, we can tell them that we’re real.”

The king shook his head. “Maybe someday, but they’re not ready, not yet.”

“So we must remain shadows, myths,” Ebon said, Padma at his side.

The king looked directly at the camera. “Someday they will be ready, and we will announce to them that we are real.”

The music swelled and the screen cut to black. The credits rolled.

The audience was silent
…
and then applause, punctuated by murmurs, filled the theater. People turned to their companions, whispering questions.

“I think they get it—at least, some of them do.” Akta hoped the critics were just too cynical and that normal people would understand.

Akta and Cali sneaked down the stairs to listen in as a marketing team conducted exit interviews.

“What did you think of the movie?” a perky blonde asked an older woman.

“It was good. I liked the love story.”

“And what did you think of the monsters?”

“They seemed nice enough. Even the bad guy was redeemed at the end.”

“And do you believe that they’re real?”

She chuckled. “Of course not.”

“Yes, they are,” the man beside her said. “Don’t you get it? That’s the whole point of the movie.”

“You think those creatures are real?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh, John, don’t be so silly.” The woman took her husband’s arm and pulled him away.

Akta and Cali shared a glance. It was a start.

“Ms. Patel, right this way.”

Akta followed Christian through a back door into the club, Cali at her side.

They’d confronted the PR company about taking photos of her engagement. Jack Vice hadn’t even pretended to deny it, saying instead that hiding in the days up to the premiere implied that they were ashamed of the movie. They’d used the fact that Henry had needed their help to secure reservations as a chance to get candid photos of a great human-interest story that would only up the profile of the lead actors in the days prior to the premieres.

Calypso Productions’ plan for the week before release had been to keep everyone safe by maintaining a low profile. That plan had been squashed, so Akta, Cali, Henry and Seling were going clubbing, post sneak-preview screening. Jack was hoping they would get coverage both on audience reactions to the screenings and on the activities of the principals.

Alex and the rest of the guards weren’t happy about it, especially because right now the team was spread across the country. Margo and Runako were in New York, observing the screening and then going out on the town with the VFX supervisor. Lena and Luke were in Chicago doing the same. Jo, Tokaki, Oren, Maeve and some of the other department heads were at other theaters in LA and would be photographed eating and drinking at a variety of celebrity spots.

The security team was spread thin, and Akta couldn’t help looking over her shoulder as they wove their way through the kitchen.

Henry and Seling had arrived an hour ago and posed for photos outside. Neither of them had been willing to let Akta and Cali do the same, deeming it too dangerous. At this point Akta wasn’t going to argue with them—she was too freaked out.

Cali squeezed her hand. “It will be okay.”

Akta looked over her shoulder. “Are you getting soft on me, Mercedes?”

Cali snarled, “Don’t call me that.”

“Just checking.”

They entered the club, following Christian to the table the guys had staked out while Akta and Cali were still at the screening. Henry looked up as she approached.

He looked good enough to eat, in tailored slacks and a trim-cut dress shirt open at the throat. Beside him, Seling wore jeans, a V-neck T-shirt and a priest-collar leather jacket. They were both devastatingly handsome.

Maybe it was her imagination, but Akta thought she could feel the otherness emanating from them. They looked human, but they weren’t. Could the other people in the club feel it?

Judging by the random club bunny trying to weasel her way into their VIP area by hanging on to Seling’s arm, they couldn’t.

“Oh, I will rip that bitch’s weave out,” Cali growled, starting for the blonde.

“Christian, stop her,” Akta yelped.

The bodyguard tugged on Cali’s arm. “Ma’am, why don’t we get you a seat?”

“Why don’t you give me your gun?”

“I’m going to have to decline.”

Akta ignored them as Henry rose to greet her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. His hands pressed against her back, meshing their bodies together. She’d changed from the nondescript jeans-and-jacket combo to a sleek black dress. She wore her hair completely loose, something she rarely did, because she knew Henry liked it that way.

“Woman, you’re crazy.” Seling’s words broke through the haze of rosy happiness caused by Henry’s kiss, and Akta pulled back just enough to check that there weren’t any bodies on the floor. The club bunny was flouncing away, her dress pulled askew as if she’d been manhandled. Cali was practically steaming.

Henry wrapped an arm around her waist and faced the other couple.

“I bet she slaps him,” Henry said.

“No chance. She’ll kiss him,
then
slap him.”

“Want to make it interesting?” Henry purred in her ear.

Akta still hadn’t fully recovered from the twenty-four hours as his harem girl. “No.”

“Coward.”

“Sadist.”

“How can I be a sadist?” Henry pulled her ass back against his hips, so she could feel his cock, which was hard as iron against her. “I haven’t even spanked you…yet.”

Akta licked her lips and practiced breathing normally.

“Why don’t we go home, and I can—”

“Stop. Stop talking,” Akta hissed. “We’re supposed to be here showing everyone that we’re not worried about tomorrow.”

“Right now I’m
not
worried about tomorrow. I am worried about how wet you are and—”

“I created a monster,” she lamented.

There was a beat and then Henry laughed. It was a real laugh, surprised and joyous.

“What’s so funny?” Cali asked. She was breathing heavily from her tussle with the blonde, her literally heaving breasts rising above the top of the corset-style top she wore. Seling’s eyes were glued to her boobs.

“Nothing,” Akta hissed.

“Maybe we should tell them.” Henry wiggled his brows.

“Maybe I should tell them your little secret.”

He closed his mouth.

They’d ordered bottle service, and after a few glasses Akta dragged Cali out onto the dance floor. Eventually Seling joined them, though Henry remained steadfastly in his seat.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” Akta said when she returned to the table. Christian nodded and led the way.

“I might as well come too.” Cali rose to accompany them.

Much to the disgust of the women waiting in line, Christian cleared the women’s bathroom, let Akta and Cali in, then held the door closed. When she was done, Akta examined herself in the mirror. She was a little sweaty, but not too bad.

“This is fun,” Cali said, reapplying lipstick. “I didn’t think I’d be able to relax, but I’m having fun.”

“Cali.” Akta took her friend’s hands. “Maybe it’s because I’m tipsy, but I want to say something. I love you.”

“Seriously? Drunk bathroom confessions?”

“I mean it. I couldn’t imagine trying to change the world with anyone else. I love you.”

“You’re a huge pain in the ass, but I love you too.” Cali gripped her in a tight hug.

Akta pulled back. “Your boobs were stabbing me.”

“Don’t be sad because you have tiny boobs.”

“I’m proportional.”

“Sure you are. Whatever gets you through the day.”

They followed Christian back to the table. Midway across the dance floor, someone grabbed Akta’s arm.

“Is it true?” It was a young man wearing a mesh top and skintight jeans. “Can they change into monsters?”

Akta smiled and held up her hand to stall Christian, who was posed to pull the man away from her.

“That’s what we’re trying to say,” Akta said, both evading and answering the question.

“I saw a monster once, in Griffith Park. It was going to kill me.”

Akta’s smile dipped, but she forced a laugh. “Well, that wasn’t one of my monsters. I hope you’ll see the movie tomorrow.”

“If they’re really monsters, you shouldn’t marry them—that’s fucked up.”

Akta was done with this guy, who didn’t seem entirely with it. He was probably harmless—or as harmless as someone high, drunk or both could be.

“Christian,” she said.

In the next moment, her bodyguard was making a path through the dancing crowd, hustling her and Cali back to the table. Henry was on his feet, Alex standing in front of him, one arm out, keeping Henry from rushing down into the crowd.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. That guy said he saw a monster that was going to eat him in Griffith Park.”

Henry and Seling exchanged glances.

“Fuck,” Seling said.

Cali tensed. “What?”

“Sometimes we’d go to the park to stretch our wings.”

“So he might have seen one of you?” Akta asked.

“Maybe.” Henry’s voice was tight.

“Uh, did one of you try and eat him?” Akta asked.

“What? No.” Henry folded his arms.

“Yeah, omnivores taste bad,” Seling added.

Akta’s lips twitched, Cali snorted and in the next moment they were all laughing, the wild-eyed young man forgotten.

“Are you scared?” Akta asked later that night as they lay in bed.

Henry’s arms tightened around her. “Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever happens, know that I’ll protect you.”

Akta closed her eyes. The premiere was less than twenty-four hours away. Margo, Lena and the others were on early morning flights back to LA, having reported the same mixed results at the screenings they attended.

At 1:00 a.m. they’d had a conference call with the PR team. The reactions to the screenings were scattered, with far too few people even jokingly saying that they thought the monsters might be real. They’d decided to schedule a press conference for Monday morning, where Henry and the others would, for the first time, change in front of other humans. It was a move of last resort, a Hail Mary pass.
 

They’d have the weekend to gauge the audience reactions, and maybe it wouldn’t be necessary. Akta hoped it wasn’t. The thing Henry and his Clan had been trying to avoid was a shocking announcement.