Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (14 page)

“The rehearsal?” The Director’s
clipped question informed Mack that his boss was annoyed by his
tone.

“It went very well, sir. We ran
through two scripts. She’ll be ready for June first, no question.”
Annie had called him last night to say that a performance was added
on Thursday night for some elite vampires visiting from Italy. Mack
was planning on telling the troupe the news at the meeting later in
the afternoon.

“In her last two troupes she tried to
pull in extra power. Make sure you have her on a tight
leash.”

“She’s on a very tight leash,
Director.” Ingrid was drinking her soda out of the bottle, teasing
him by sliding the tip in and out of her mouth before taking a
drink. He glued his gaze to those wicked lips, envisioning his
tongue sliding...

“I won’t accept any screw
ups."

The Director’s voice faded into the
background as Mack’s gaze was fused to Ingrid’s gorgeous legs, her
calves and thighs sleek with lean muscles. She’d pulled her shirt
up slightly to expose her stomach to the sun, moving a strand of
hair behind her ear, her expression turning wicked as she moved a
finger across her lips, grinning at Mack.

"Fuck."

“Did you curse at me?"

“Yes, I mean, no. I knocked over a
glass of soda...I’m sorry, sir. There won’t be any problems with
Ingrid. I’ll keep her very close.” From outside, Ingrid giggled
loudly, the sound carrying through the screen door.

"Who was that? Who is there with
you?"

He grasped at a way to explain why she
was at his house. "Ingrid's outside on a lawn chair. She was
jogging by, so I invited her to the yard for a soda." The lie came
easily. They always did when he was protecting the
troupe.

There was a long pause before The
Director spoke again. When he did, his voice sent a chill through
Mack’s bloodstream. "Jogging? Alone? You permitted
this?”

"She'd morphed."

"Switch on the camera." Mack stayed
silent. "Do you want her to survive the week? Switch it on." He did
as he was told. "Where is your shirt?"

"I was getting some sun when she
showed up."

"Is she half-naked as
well?"

"Shorts and a shirt." No reason to
lie. His boss could insist that he turn the camera in her
direction.

"Mack, this female can tempt an
archangel to sin. If I hear even a whisper about you and her
fucking around, I’ll sell the whore to the highest bidder. I would
get an excellent price for that tight little ass."

"She hasn't done anything against the
rules."

"Not in your troupe. Not yet. Give her
a few more weeks."

"Sir..."

"I cannot have a love-sick production
manager fucking with my profits."

"I can assure you, Director, that
Ingrid and I haven't had intimate relations. We barely speak to
each other.” Mack fisted his hands, forcing his face to remain
composed, praying his boss would let this go.

Holy fuck. He’d almost
gotten them all killed because he’d acted like a horny
teenager.

"You have always had a level
head…"

"Thank you, sir." His heart was
pounding. Good thing his boss wasn’t actually in the
room.

"…and you are my top PM, but
understand this: a troupe that shows me disrespect by disobeying my
orders is worth nothing to me, even if it is surpassing all other
troupes in sales. Retiring your troupe would give me great pleasure
in those circumstances. Ticket sales to witness the execution of an
entire troupe would be four times the normal amount.

Mack swallowed hard before speaking.
"The Thursday performance will be exceptional. I hope you'll honor
us by attending."

"Oh, I will be there. Call me
tomorrow."

“Yes, sir.”

After ending the call, Mack turned
toward the back yard. Ingrid was standing in the doorway again,
moving toward him seductively. But The Director's call had the same
effect on Mack's body as an ice cold shower.

"You need to return to the
house."

Ingrid's expression turned defiant.
"Did he threaten you? Did he say he'd sell me? He's used that one
plenty of times." She rolled her eyes.

He was shocked by her cavalier
attitude. It wasn’t smart. "Selling you to a master vamp would be a
mercy compared to being the lead player in a live execution. He
knows you were here. He'll be watching us more closely now. I'll
protect you and the others with every beat of my heart, but I
can't—we can't..."

"Our connection has nothing to do with
the troupe or The Director. This is private between us."

"Not any longer. Give me two minutes
and I'll walk you back." Mack went inside to get a clean shirt, but
when he returned, she was gone. Big surprise.

She must have a death
wish.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he
sent out a text to Alan, who responded ten minutes later that she'd
arrived safely back at the house. Ingrid was a beautiful,
intelligent female—the best projector he'd ever encountered—but she
had the impulse control of a damn teenager.

His cock hardened again just thinking
about her, his own urges seemingly out of control. He’d have to
find a way to tame them, because he and Ingrid were never going to
happen.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Ingrid walked into the house,
she slowed, noticing that most of the troupe members were lounging
around in the kitchen, wearing smirky smiles. What was this?
Hypocrite Day? Staci and Sam were obviously a committed couple.
They’d started out in the Hudson River Troupe as ingénues, then
divas, taking the swing gigs early to stay together. Diane and Dave
were certainly an item, so what was the big deal?

She grabbed an apple and
plunked herself in a chair at the table. “Since you’re all dying to
know, Mack and I were practically
coitus
interruptus
because of a call from The Director. That toad
has the worst timing. Now when's the meeting?”

Gene, smiling in his sexy way, leaned
over and whispered in her ear. "Feeling a little frustrated, are
we?"

"Go jump in the Mississippi, southern
boy." Ingrid heard him laughing as she stomped upstairs. Gene had
definitely called it. Throwing one of the fluffy decorative pillows
across the room, she practically groaned in frustration. The
Director had stuck his warty nose into her private business one too
many times.

A delightful image of a
shirtless Mack nudged its way into her head. God he was hot, and
the way he kissed...
Whoa
. She turned over on the bed and
buried her head under the pillow, forcing herself to drift off for
a short nap.

When she walked downstairs for the
meeting two hours later, Mack was there and everyone was laughing
and chatting.

"Next time, you might want to turn off
your H-tab, boss," Alan teased.

“About time you hooked up with
someone,” Dave said. He gave Diane’s hand a squeeze and she kissed
his cheek. “I was beginning to think you were part
angel.”

“Nope, no angel blood running through
those veins. I can vouch for that.” They all turned toward Ingrid
as she gave Mack a wicked grin. The room grew even louder as more
racy comments floated around.

“Okay, enough.” He’d taken the jibes
pretty well, but his expression had turned serious. “Let’s discuss
what we have to discuss then everyone can go their separate ways
until tomorrow afternoon’s rehearsal. The performance for the
wolves is still on for Friday night, but there's been a performance
added on Thursday. Elias is hosting a few Italian cadres this week
and wants to show them a good time.” Mack explained to Ingrid,
“He’s the top master vamp in the New York area.” He returned his
gaze to include the others. “After the show, you're invited for
drinks at the Marquis with a dozen or so of the higher ranked
vamps.

"Saturday evening, you’re required to
attend a pack party at The Huntington." There was some groaning.
"According to The Director, these wolves are excellent clients.
We'll rehearse as usual tomorrow, but I won't be calling any more
rehearsals until next Tuesday. This schedule is unusually tight,
but I know you can handle it. Make sure to rest up and eat enough
during the day. Alan will distribute your scripts for both shows
tomorrow."

Ingrid frowned. “I was told that I had
off until Friday. I’m on leave except for rehearsals.”

“I mentioned that to The Director, but
he wouldn’t change his mind.”

“When did you find this
out?”

“Last night.”

“You’re telling me now? You could have
told me earlier.”

“I’m telling you at our
regularly scheduled production meeting which is the appropriate
time and place to discuss this kind of information. If you have a
problem, you can speak to me
privately
.” His golden eyes were
flaming.

Ingrid narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t attend pack parties or have drinks with master vampires.
I've already discussed this with you.
Privately
.”

“You’ll make an exception.”

Ingrid was still. “No, I won’t. Those
creatures have fucked me over for the last time.”

Sam stepped beside her, taking her
hand. “Ingrid, we know.” He glanced at Staci. “We understand what
you go through. But the world won’t collapse if you socialize and
smile at them. We’ll have your back.”

“Sam, are you really that naïve?”
Ingrid stared at Staci. “You must know what they force us to
do.”

Diane scowled. “Every actor in this
room was once an ingénue, but we don’t discuss that shit, at least
not as a group.” She took Dave’s hand. “Once it’s done, it’s
done.”

“And you don’t fight back?”

“Some of the wolves like it better
when you do.” Diane was furious now.

“I’ll do nothing to jeopardize my life
with Sam and the troupe.” Staci said quietly, staring down at her
hands.

“You have no right to judge us,” Diane
shouted.

Ingrid’s voice was ice. “I’m the only
person in the room who does have the right, since I’m the one
who’ll be on the receiving end of their idea of a good time. I take
my pound of flesh from every one of those bastards. They may like
it better, but at least I can go to sleep knowing I did everything
I could to stop them.”

“The Director would hear about it.”
Diane said.

“Fuck The Director. Do you even know
where he came from? What our future really holds?”

Alan was scanning back and forth
between Ingrid and Mack as if he expected one of them to explode.
The Director interviewed all PM’s and APM’s personally before
placing them in troupes, but for the most part, the actors had
never seen even a hologram of the most dangerous male in America,
let alone read a complete bio. The Director's race was never
mentioned during training in the institutes and actors were
punished if they asked questions about him.

“You’ve met him?” Staci looked
shocked.

“Four times. Once when I was a kid and
three times as an adult.”

“Four times?" Diane practically
shrieked. "Sit down and spill."

“I’d like you to leave the meeting
now, Ingrid. I'll come up afterward to discuss this with you.” Mack
had gone brusque and cold.

Diane and Ingrid both ignored Mack.
“Why did you have to meet with him? Were you in trouble?” At this
point, everyone was leaning toward Ingrid, curiosity and excitement
brightening their eyes.

“There were a number of different
reasons. I'd rather not go into details."

“This subject is off the table.” Mack
was beyond irritated.

"They have a right to know who they
really work for. Where he came from. Or do you agree with The
Director? According to him, we should have no rights at
all."

"Of course they have the right,
but…”

"Don’t tell me about the danger. We’re
already in danger. It's their choice."

"I want to know," said Staci. A few
other mumbled assents were heard, although Ingrid noticed Alan
shaking his head.

“So where is he from?” Gene
asked.

Suddenly Mack was in her face, his
voice louder than usual. "Upstairs. Don't say another damn
word."

The room was so still, she could
barely hear anyone breathing. Ingrid started up the stairs, halting
on the fourth step and turning an icy glare toward Mack. There was
nothing in his expression of the golden-eyed lover who’d kissed her
so passionately earlier today. Holding up her chin, she forced
herself to stop trembling. She'd had such hopes...

“You know that The
Director is an archdemon.” Most of them nodded. “He murdered
millions of innocent beings during
the
steal
, but he doesn’t care, because he’s
from a different realm entirely. We’re pieces in a game they play.
I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of playing by his rules.” She
glared at Mack for a moment, turning to walk up the stairs at an
even pace, as if she hadn’t flipped their pretty little fantasy
world on its head.