Stop, she wanted to say but her mouth wouldn’t form the word. Wrong prop. And you’re playing a Norse god. You don’t need a weapon.
Paz twirled the yardstick like a staff before striking Lars at mid-thigh. The stick snapped, but Paz kept his motion flowing, following through with a kick to the same spot. Lars cried out, his legs crumpling. He went down—flat on his back.
Immediately, Paz planted a foot on Lars’s chest and pointed the broken yardstick at his throat. His arms tensed.
In another instant, he’d put a lethal vent into the guy’s trachea. What was the matter with him?
“Don’t move,” Jen hollered, recovering her voice.
Paz hesitated, stick poised in the air.
“You’re hurting him. Haven't you filmed a fight scene before?”
“Fight scene?” Paz’s brow creased, as he regarded her with puzzlement.
Meanwhile, crew members rushed forward to break the men apart. One man put out an arm to hold Paz back, while another helped Lars to his feet.
“Where’s the first aid station? Ow, my leg.” Lars cast Paz a scathing glance. “What’s wrong with you, mate? You cudda killed me.”
Blood oozed from a cut on his bottom lip. He yanked the helmet off his head and swiped his mouth. “I’m bleeding, you idiot. If I have any marks on my face, my career is ruined. Ruined! You’ll hear from my lawyer.” With a growl, he limped backstage and out of sight.
Jen scuttled over. Could this day get any worse?
She gripped Paz’s arm. “Didn’t you study fight scene choreography when you took acting classes? You could have seriously injured Mr. Anderson.”
Across the room, the director spouted a torrent of words at the crew. Jen was sure he must be chewing them out. It wasn’t their fault, for heaven’s sake.
“What do you mean?” Paz shook her off. “He was butchering those villagers. I couldn’t stand by and let that beast murder people.”
She stared into his confused blue eyes. “Paz, they were acting. You know, pretending,” she explained when he shook his head in bewilderment. “This set, all that blood, it’s fake.”
“I don’t understand. People were screaming, fleeing in panic.” He lifted his chin. “It is my duty as a Drift Lord to protect them.”
“You’re playing a Norse god. You were supposed to use magic to defeat your enemy and not pick up a stick on the ground. A yardstick, no less! Didn’t you get a script?”
“Your words have no meaning for me.” He rubbed a hand over his weary face. His fingers came back stained with crimson. “Is this fake, too? My head pounds as though hit by a hammer.”
“Good Lord, you’re really bleeding.” Jen examined the gash on the side of his head. “These wounds are real. No wonder you’re so out of it. What happened to you?”
“I remember an impact, and then…nothing.”
Her mind somersaulted on what she knew about the guy. He showed up here naked and confused, and everyone assumed he’d prepared for his role. Had the poor fellow been in such a rush to take the job that he’d had an accident along the way? A concussion would explain his strange behavior.
She crooked her finger, signaling Sandi who’d been consulting with the makeup artist.
“Yuki says she didn’t touch the cuts on this man’s face because he had done such a good job of applying paint.” Sandi squinted at him. “That stuff is smearing, but she’s afraid to come any closer to fix it.”
“That’s because his wounds are real.” Jen turned to Paz. “This is my assistant, Sandi. We’re both concerned about you. Tell us what happened on the way here. You must have been in an accident.”
“Accident…yes. No. The images are—how do you say it? My mind is unclear.”
Mr. Nakamura broke off from his conversation and strode in their direction. From his taut posture and pinched face, Jen expected a reprimand.
“Security said no one drove through the studio entrance.” Poor Akeno looked as though he had swallowed a lemon pit as he translated the director’s words. “How did this man get here?”
“I think he may have been in an accident.” Jen glanced at Paz. His lips were clamped together, his complexion pale. Don't pass out, she pleaded silently. We need to get you to a doctor. “He could have left his car behind, walked the rest of the way, and stumbled through the gate. A head injury would account for his confusion.”
Sandi’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ve known a lot of desperate actors in my time, but this? If he really got whacked on the head, he belongs in the hospital.”
“You’re right. I’ll take him.”
For some reason, she felt drawn to the newcomer. Maybe it was the lost look in his eyes, or perhaps his unstable state of health. Being ill in a foreign country could be terrifying, and he could use her support.
Sandi drew her aside. “Are you nuts? You don’t know anything about this guy. Like, he could get violent again.”
“I’ll be all right. He seems to respond to me, so I can get him through the hospital hoopla. In the meantime, check on Keith and see if he’s on his way yet. I’m counting on you for damage control.”
The translator gestured to her. “Miss Dyhr, the director wants this actor’s contact information.”
Did he plan to press charges against the poor guy, too? She shouldn’t be surprised. Mr. Nakamura would need to save face in the producer’s view. Forget their opinion of her—it must be blown to hell by this incident.
Jen had been completely unaware Norse mythology interested video gamers until Sandi pointed out a couple of games titled Viking Warrior: Bridge to Asgard and Valkyrie Knights. This revelation had opened a whole realm of possibility for her. She’d designed wardrobes for feature films and magazine shoots galore, but never an ad for a video game company.
She’d been so excited when her hairstylist brought the Japanese producer into her Manhattan showroom, and he’d called afterward to offer a job. It gave her the perfect opportunity to extend her brand.
“Mr. Nakamura, this man needs medical attention.” She thrust her chin forward, determined to salvage her reputation by assuming responsibility. “With your permission, I’ll take him to the hospital. If Keith still isn’t here by the time I return, I promise to call the casting office myself for a replacement. I’m so sorry for the delay.”
After giving him another respectful bow, she turned to Sandi. “I’ll order my driver to bring the car around. Try to appease the big wigs while I’m gone. We have to find some way to salvage this situation.”
Jen led Paz backstage to change into some borrowed street clothes. Then she herded the newcomer out the exit and into the busy midday traffic.
Chapter Two
Paz came to his senses in the back seat of a ground vehicle beside a beautiful woman. What had she called herself? Jennifer, although the short blonde addressed her as Jen. He remembered that much from the nightmarish barbarian attack.
When he’d regained consciousness earlier, he had no idea where he had landed. The first people he’d seen had been the costumed characters, making him think he had been cast back in time to the Viking era. Jen had been an anomaly. He’d focused on her at once, ignoring the others around them. Then came the attack on the villagers. He’d reacted automatically as per his training.
Once he realized it was a film set, he deduced that he must have spatial shifted from his point of origin in Orlando, Florida. That meant he’d traversed a spontaneous rift in the space-time continuum. Things would only get worse unless he accomplished his mission, and until then, he had to survive.
Jen sat alongside him. She wore her raven hair secured in a twist, highlighting the delicate angles of her face. Her long dress stuck to the cushion, pulling on her bodice and giving him a tantalizing view of her cleavage.
By Odin’s grace, he didn’t need this distraction now. He had to find out what happened to his team.
At his last recollection, they’d stormed an enemy facility housing a jamming device that blocked their sensor r
eadings. Their objective had been to destroy the antenna and its power source. Paz had no idea if his friends had succeeded. A beefy Trollek soldier had shoved him into a pit filled with a chopping, whirling mechanism.
He’d hit his head and bounced off a wall, tumbling to the bottom where the sea rushed in a torrential current. Yanked underwater and tossed about like a particle of sand, he’d lost his clothing and his consciousness.
Paz didn’t remember much else until he awoke backstage at the film studio. Hearing voices, he’d stumbled in their direction and rounded a corner onto the village set. His face heated when he remembered his natural state and people’s stares.
“Where should I take you?” Jen asked in a soft tone.
“That depends. Where are we?” He glanced out the window. Neon signs advertised a sword museum, an arts center, and a department store. He could read the English well enough with his implanted universal translator.
“I thought the doctor did a neurological exam on you. He said you were clear to go.” Jen’s eyes widened in alarm.
A healer at their medical center had cleaned and treated his wounds. He’d been fortunate none of his injuries were more serious than a crack on the head and minor lacerations, meaning he could resume his mission.
“I know we’re in Tokyo. I meant to ask where we are headed?”
Relief flitted across her face. “Let me see if Keith made it to the set first before we make any decisions.”
Jen pulled out a rectangular object from her handbag. Paz recognized it as the crude communication device called a cellular phone. He smiled inwardly. As communications officer for the Drift Lords, he could upgrade that to a Class IV Portable Intel Platform, or PIP, with the proper added components.
Jen punched numbers on her touchpad. “Hello, Sandi?” She held the phone to her ear. “Yes, it’s me. What’s going on?”
Her forehead scrunched as she listened. “You’re kidding. The producer loved the take? I don’t believe it.” A pause. “Hmm, good question. I’ll get back to you on that one.”
While she spoke, Paz stared at the jumble of tall buildings that went by in a blur as their driver shot through an intersection, barely missing a bicyclist.
Jen hung up and stuffed the phone back in her handbag. Her narrowed gaze swung toward him. “Okay, who are you?”
“I told you. My name is Paz Hadar.”
“That’s not what I meant. Keith still isn’t there, and Sandi says the actor sent by the casting office arrived shortly after we left the studio. So if you’re not the man they sent, who the hell are you?”
He liked the way her dark brown eyes blazed when she was angry. How would they change when she got aroused?
Get that idea out of your head. She’s not your type.
Just look at her expensive diamond earrings and manicured nails, at her fashionable clothing and confident posture. She oozed wealth and sophistication. He steered clear of women like Jennifer Dyhr for the same reason he’d left home.
“I am a Drift Lord on a mission.” He didn’t see any reason to lie.
“A Drift Lord? What’s that?”
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” He grinned at the moue of displeasure on her face.
“Please don’t joke with me. I’m trying to help you.”
“Very well. I am a warrior sent to banish the horde back to where they belong.” He watched for her reaction and was gratified when she stared at him as though he’d sprouted wings.
“The horde? Okay, fella. Maybe you are some kind of agent on a mission, and you ran afoul of the bad guys. You know what? I’ll drop you off at the nearest consulate. They can help you get home, or complete your job. Whatever.”
“You are correct. It was the bad guys, as you call them, who did this to me.”
He sank back in his seat and closed his eyes, memories flooding him. Along with them rode a sense of pain. His team had been captured by the enemy. One of their own had betrayed them. Paz had no way of knowing the final outcome of the battle because he’d been pushed into the pit, presumably left for dead.
“May I borrow your communication device? I wish to call my colleagues to let them know I’m all right.” And to find out if any of them survived.
“You mean my cell phone?” Jen fished it from her purse and handed it to him. “Maybe you should ask them to arrange for your return home.”
“Indeed, I shall.” But when he dialed their emergency number, no one answered. Even if his mates were on board the Protector rather than planet-side, they should receive the transmission. The fact that even Zohar, their captain and crown prince of the Star Empire, did not respond made Paz’s jaw tighten.
In silence, he handed Jen back her phone. It was up to him now to complete their assignment. Failure would mean the destruction not only of this world but thousands of others.
His duty was clear. He would send the Trolleks back where they belonged, or he’d die trying.
****
Jen ordered the driver to head for the American Embassy. She’d drop Paz off there where hopefully he could reconnect with his friends. He’d gone quiet, staring out the window, his profile frozen in consternation. Aware of his hulking presence beside her, she inched away on the seat. His magnetism tended to draw her closer, but they’d only just met and caution prevailed.
He looked a wreck, his jaw unshaven, and his hair askew. Maybe he had been attacked. A mugging would account for his confusion and injuries. In that case, the man was lucky he hadn’t been hurt worse. But shouldn’t he have recovered his senses by now? All this talk of Drift Lords and secret missions made her wonder about his sanity.
He seemed to be a decent guy otherwise. Growing up in Palm Beach had taught her to discern between men who were sincere in their admiration and men who wanted something from her. She yearned to find a guy who had enough cash and clout that he wouldn’t need hers. A prominent businessman might fit the bill, but she had yet to meet a magnate who lit her fire. Her dream of marrying a partner with whom to share her successes and start a family seemed to grow ever distant.
She sneaked a glance sideways at her companion. He’d be fabulous in the role of a vengeful Norse god if he really knew how to act. Actually, with his powerful physique, he’d make a striking model for her upcoming Spring line. Maybe he’d consider a change in careers? He didn’t have to be sane. Just looking like a hunk would work well enough.
“Tell me, are you an actor at all, or do you have another job?”
He gave her an oblique glance. “When I am not employed in my current position, I work in telecom.”
Jen gripped her seat as their driver jammed on the brakes. A trio of motorcyclists zoomed past a yellow light. Outside, solemn-faced workers scurried down the street while tourists craned their necks to regard the billboards. A popular department store loomed ahead.
The car jerked forward after the traffic signal changed.
“How would you like to do something different?” Jen smiled encouragingly. “You’d make a great model for my designs. I could teach you what you need to know if you came to Manhattan. You’d make a lot more money than you do repairing telephone equipment.”
She assumed that’s what he did, based on his vague reply that he worked in telecom. That’s like a garbage man saying he worked in sanitation.
Paz’s gaze seared into her. Did he believe her offer to be sincere, or did he think she was proposing he become her next boy toy? A restless feeling washed over her at the notion. Hot and cold impulses raced up her spine as the image of him naked popped into her mind. His scent drifted into her nostrils, reminiscent of a sunny day at the beach. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them.
Her cell phone’s strident ring shattered the moment. Jen retrieved her unit, wondering what was wrong with her. The man was a total stranger, for heaven’s sake. She should never have gotten involved with him. Sandi was probably calling to see what was taking her so long in returning.
“Hey, hon, it’s Dad.”
<
br /> Jen’s stomach lurched. Getting a call from her father during business hours on a Wednesday sent up a red flag.
“What’s the matter? Is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not,” he replied in a terse tone. “The Board of Trustees has called an emergency meeting to vote on the merger. You need to be here to convince them to hold out. I need more time to talk to Yeager Capital Investments.”
Jen cursed under her breath. She’d inherited her aunt’s shares in the family business empire, and with it came a Board position. Her cousin Clifford, Aunt Alba’s son, had contested the will but hadn’t won. Now he’d changed tactics to try for a hostile takeover instead.
“Can’t you stall until I’m home? I have a flight booked on Friday. We’re almost finished filming.”
“Cliff has come up with a new challenge, Jen. It concerns you personally. I’ve hired a business jet. It’ll be waiting for you on the tarmac.”
Jen sighed. She supposed Sandi could pack her things and send them along later. Meanwhile, her assistant could handle the rest of the details with Mr. Nakamura. “Okay. I’m in the car now. I’ll go straight to the airport.”
“I knew I could count on you, pumpkin. Let me know your ETA. I’ll send a car to pick you up when you arrive.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll get a cab when I reach Palm Beach. Bye, Dad.”
Severing the connection, she pursed her lips. The family business served more as an anchor around her neck than an asset. The management skills she’d learned from her father, though, had helped when she formed her own design company.
Sitting beside her on the backseat, Paz patted her hand. “I couldn’t help overhearing, and I’m sorry if you received troubling news.”
“I have to go home. It’s a family business matter.” Jen’s voice hardened.
“Don’t you have any siblings who can step in?”
“Nope, it’s just me and my parents.”
“Is it true you will be flying to Florida?”
“Yes, my father chartered a private jet.”
Warrior Rogue (The Drift Lords Series) Page 2