The Jaguar Star (Tales of the Were Jaguar Island #4) - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,23

“Getting a bit big for your britches there, aren’t you, son?”

Ren stopped walking and turned to face the older man who had taught him martial arts, and a whole lot more, as a child. “All right, you’ve made your point. I know my ego is the biggest thing in the room, sometimes, but even you have to admit that having me in the film guaranteed Sonia a certain bit of notoriety. That’s why Mark asked me to do it in the first place. I was supposed to be enjoying some quiet time off at my place on the island, not shooting another film. A low-budget one, at that.”

Greg shook his head. “You’re a spoiled brat, Ren.” His laughter took the sting out of the words. “For that matter, so am I. We’ve gotten too used to big-budget blockbusters. It’s a good change for us to rough it in a cheaper hotel than usual and shoot in drafty locations, instead of cozy multi-million-dollar studios with the latest tech and squads of carpenters to build everything from scratch.” Greg clapped Ren on the shoulder, and they started walked again. “As for why Kat… Who knows? I suspect you might be right. Maybe Sonia knows something she’s not divulging yet. Maybe it was a random thing. I have no idea, and the fey aren’t usually very forthcoming with information when we ask questions point blank. All I know is, we’ve got Kat, and we might as well make friends with her. She seems nice enough.” Greg shrugged and dropped his hand from Ren’s shoulder.

“She is nice. Maybe too nice for what will come down on her head after she appears in this movie,” Ren said on a gusty sigh. “I doubt she’s prepared for the media attention she’s going to get.”

“She’s an adult,” Greg reminded him. “I’m sure she’ll figure it out. Just like you did.” Greg tilted his head, as if remembering. “Scratch that. She’ll do better than you did. As I recall, you spent a few years believing your own publicity. Your head was so swelled with your own importance, you barely fit in the doorway.”

Ren pushed at Greg’s shoulder, laughing. “I was never that bad,” he objected. “My cat brought me right back down to earth when my ego started getting too big. Needing to shift and stalk something in order to stay sane had a way of reminding me of what was really important in life, and it wasn’t my bank account or how many fancy sports cars I had parked in the driveway of my Malibu beach house.”

“That stuff doesn’t hurt, of course,” Greg put in, chuckling good naturedly.

“Of course,” Ren agreed with a conspiratorial grin. “But, speaking of our wild sides, how about a short run? I located some deer tracks last night and a watering hole not too far away in dense woodland. Maybe we could stalk something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Greg agreed readily. “Lead the way, grasshopper.”

Only Greg could get away with calling Ren that. He’d been Ren’s sensei for a whole lot of years.

Katrina sat on the bed after Ren left, her head spinning. Damn. She shouldn’t have drunk so much. She had to be awake and alert the next morning, and more than that, she had to not look like something that had been run over by a truck and found on the side of the road. Well, she knew what to do to solve the dehydration issue. She reached for the first bottle of icy cold water and unscrewed the cap.

Sitting up, she decided to go sit by the window for a bit while she downed as much of the water as she could stand. She might even do a little work before she went to bed, if she could clear her head a bit, but that wasn’t crucial. She was well prepared for the next day. She knew her lines and had studied her notes before going to dinner. A quick re-read in the morning would set her right, and she’d be ready to roll.

She sat by the window, looking to see if she could catch sight of those green glowing feline eyes from the night before, but it wasn’t meant to be. She gave up after finishing the second bottle of water, then grabbed a third—one of those that Ren had brought and left on the table by the door—and opened it before shutting the curtains. She laid out her clothes for the next morning, still a bit unsteady on