The Forbidden (Krewe of Hunters #34) - Heather Graham Page 0,2

were grateful for Lauren’s skill.

Boris looked at Avalon again.

“Ah! She opens her eyes—crystal-blue eyes, framed so beautifully with bloodred rims,” he said with a laugh. Then he turned to Lauren. “We’re lucky to have you!” Boris said, “And, don’t forget, I know you can do your own makeup. We have room for more brides. You’d make a beautiful bride, too. I know you don’t wish to speak—I can make you a silent bride!”

“Thanks. I love creating on others,” Lauren said lightly.

“Anyway...” Boris paused and glanced at his watch. “Time for the rest of my actors on set!” he said.

Avalon saw Kevin coming from the makeup tent, where there were also coolers filled with iced drinks and lawn chairs for those who were awaiting their call time. Lauren had finished with Kevin earlier, though there was little that needed to be done to enhance his appearance. He was tall and drop-dead gorgeous with wavy black hair, forest-green eyes and a perfectly honed body. He was, in truth, a stunning example of a human being. Avalon had once teased him that his sexual orientation was a serious loss to the women of the world. He had grinned and said, “But, hey, look what I’m doing for the men!”

Avalon and Kevin had been best friends since she’d begun studying at film school in Central Florida. Now, they’d all been out of school for several years, and had moved up to New Orleans, where there was more work available in filmmaking.

Lauren hurried off the set; Boris moved to his position and shouted out to his cameramen. Moments later, Avalon was lying with her eyes closed again, waiting for her cue. Kevin—as vampire king Lucian LaCroix—came to her, assessing her form, then paused to place a kiss on her lips, just like Sleeping Beauty.

His kiss awakened her, and she rose, confused at first, then tearful and in denial as he reassured her, promising her that now, she could live forever. She was frightened, fascinated, torn and...

Hungry.

Then, the other vampires gathered around as she made her first kill, savored her first meal and became one with them.

Boris yelled, “Cut!”

They repeated the scene a number of times, then the actors stepped off set while the camera and lighting teams set up for the next angle.

Then they shot the scene from a few more camera angles.

The morning turned to afternoon. Avalon was always amazed at how a few minutes of movie could take an entire day to film. Lauren came in and did makeup touch-ups on the victim, then Boris released Lauren and a few other cast and crew members for the day.

Lauren waved to Avalon, and mouthed, I’m out of here.

Avalon didn’t blame her. By the time they finished the group scenes and were back in their street clothes—certain Boris wouldn’t want any special takes—it might be a while.

The cameras began to roll again, taking angle after angle of the vampires dancing among the tombs and statues.

“Cut!”

The assistant director called a final, “That’s a wrap!” and reminded them all to check their call sheets for their times the following morning.

Kevin walked over and threw his arms around Avalon, hugging her and lifting her off the ground. He swung her around, set her down and kissed her cheek, then said, “Thank you!”

“Me?” she said.

“Walk with me a bit?”

“Sure. Then I need to get out of this makeup.”

They strolled through the old cemetery. It was a fascinating place. The Christy family had once been incredibly wealthy. The mansion had been built circa 1799, and enhanced through the years, while the cemetery had welcomed its first burials when the Spanish had ruled New Orleans. They had built in the “city of the dead” style that had become so popular in New Orleans and much of the area. It was truly a gorgeous architectural gem, with all the atmosphere and decaying elegance they could possibly desire. The family had built several extravagant small mausoleums over the years since they had also allowed extended family and friends to bury their loved ones here. There were sarcophagus-style tombs—such as the one she had been lying on for the shoot—grand tombs, brick tombs and “oven” tombs in the walls surrounding the graveyard. It looked much like a smaller version of St. Louis Cemetery #1 just outside the French Quarter and was adorned with artistic angels and all manner of art, including a fine marble sculpture of two Civil War soldiers caring for a wounded dog, perhaps crafted to show that brothers had fought brothers