Excerpt of Shadow Guardian by Tracy Montoya

Sadie Locke clung to the landing struts of the helicopter as it rose above the Inca ruins of Macchu Picchu, past the point of no return where she could have jumped to safety. Her arms aching, she swung her legs upward, but the helicopter lurched abruptly, and she was unable to wrap them around the strut. Her lower body fell once more, jolting her shoulders so they felt they were going to come out of their sockets.

"God, I hate heights," she muttered through gritted teeth, closing her eyes tightly in an effort to prevent herself from looking down at the increasingly tiny ruins and lush green cliffs below her. The wind tore at her short brown hair, blowing the long top layers wildly around her face as the chopper blades whirred loudly above her.

Just then, she sensed something that made her open her eyes again. A light-skinned blond man, dressed in a loose- fitting shirt and pants of Peruvian cotton, had spotted her from inside the chopper. He waved his gun in her direction, shouting something to the people behind him. Around his neck was a dazzling ruby, suspended on a gold chain. The Jewel of Amarra.

But it wasn't the jewel she was after, not this time. "Tate!" she shouted, knowing as she did so that no one in the chopper could hear her over the whomp-whomp of the blades. Tightening the elbow of her right arm around the strut to better support herself, she skimmed her left hand down the hip of her cargo shorts until it reached the holster strapped around her thigh.

Empty. Her gun had probably become a permanent part of the Peruvian landscape during their ascent.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Sadie looked down, as if she could spot the gun from that high up. "Nice," she murmured as the landscape sped by below her.

The chopper dipped suddenly, and Sadie reached up to wrap her left hand back around the strut just in time. The man above her stumbled against the open door frame, almost falling forward but then regaining his balance and his equilibrium. Sadie saw him shout something to the pilot, and then the helicopter evened out, making a smooth path over the Andes Mountains.

With a grunt, Sadie swung her legs upward again, crossing the ankles of her brown hiking boots around the other end of the strut. She heaved herself up and around the strut so her stomach was resting on it, then reached up to grab the bottom of the doorway in which the man with the gun was standing for support.

The man grinned at her, leveling his gun at her head.

Pulling up so she was kneeling on the strut, Sadie delivered a backhand chop to the man's knee. He fired a wild shot that missed her by a mile. As his leg buckled, she gripped his pant leg and yanked him toward her. His feet went out from under him, and, arms flailing, he tumbled out of the helicopter....

...and onto a blue stunt mat two feet below. "And that's a wrap," Bobby Hayes, Jungle Raider's director called out. The giant fans next to the helicopter stopped humming as the crew shut their motors down, though their blades kept whirring in slow circles.

"Locke, you look tired," Bobby said, chomping down on an obscenely large wad of Bazooka gum. He must have shoved at least three pieces into that wide, gap-toothed mouth of his. "Get some rest. We'll start shooting episode one- seven-five on Monday." He pointed at two burly crewmen and smacked down on his gum a couple more times before booming, "DeFazio, Mellencamp, help her down. She breaks a leg getting off that thing, we're all out of a job."

Sadie was sorely tempted to jump off the helicopter — which was suspended from the high ceiling by thick cables — herself. Just to raise Bobby's blood pressure a little in return for the comment about her looks. But the gaffer and the lighting tech beat her to the punch, flanking her on either side and taking her arms to help her gently to the ground.

"You heard the man, Sadie," the taller of the two said to her. "Can't have our star breaking her neck on a two-foot jump. My wife would kill me if I lost this gig." He winked at her.

"That'd be bad," she agreed. "Thanks, Tom." The two men continued to hold her elbows until she'd bounded across the puffy blue mat and was safely on the concrete floor of the studio building. "How's that little girl of yours, Martin?" The lighting technician and his wife had adopted a baby daughter from China, and he'd only recently gotten back from family leave.

"Aw, she's something else," Martin replied, a grin that could only be described as goofy blossoming on his full- cheeked face. "Yesterday, she came crawling over when I walked in from work, and she actually pulled herself up on my pantleg until she was standing."

Sadie had to laugh at the big man's face — nothing like a new baby girl to turn a macho man into Jell-O. "Enjoy it, Martin. I hear it goes fast. But don't you dare think of leaving again for a while. Nobody else can take ten years off my face the way you can." Though her tone was joking, she was totally serious. A great lighting tech was worth his or her weight in gold to any actress older than thirty.

Martin ran a hand across his silver and brown crew cut. "Sadie, you don't need no lighting to look good. My wife always says she'd kill for your cheekbones."

Sadie smiled her thanks at the compliment. "Tell Nina I'll have to show her some of the tricks they do in the makeup trailer sometime. Take care, you two." She gave them a cheery wave and walked off the set, trying not to show how bone-tired she was until she was safely outside. These all- nighter wrap-up shoots were getting more and more difficult the older she got. It was 6:00 a.m., and it felt like she hadn't slept or eaten since last week.

As she headed for the studio parking lot, Meghan Reilly, her assistant, fell into step beside her. "So you've got a cover shoot at seven-thirty for Mystique magazine — they want you in leopard-print, sorry about that. At least I talked them out of the exploitative bikini." Meghan took a deep breath now that her first volley of words was out, looking fresh and rested as ever. Most likely because she was fresh and rested — Sadie had sent her home yesterday after-noon — while Sadie herself felt like she'd been run over by a convoy of tourist-toting Franklin Studios golf carts. Twice.

"Then we have a brief interview with Maxine Winter from Entertainment This Week to promote the two hundredth episode," Meghan continued.

"It's right across the street. After that, I'll give you your laptop with the satellite hookup in the limo, and you can do that quick chat with Hollyweird.com. We have the Girls, Inc., charity luncheon at one at the Biltmore. You'll smile, accept their Role Model Girl of the Year award, eat the rubber chicken and then we'll leave. We'll have you back in the studio for those voice dubs you need to do this afternoon, and then I have Joaquin Ferrer and his minions coming over to do your hair and makeup for the MTV Movie Awards tonight. Do you still want to wear that vintage Valentino, because Dolce & Gabbana sent over this amazing tangerine sheath for you — ?"

Meghan finally paused to take another breath, and Sadie decided to take advantage of it. "I'm not going." The woman had only been her assistant for three weeks, but Sadie already knew how much Meghan was going to love that statement.

"What?" The petite redhead squeaked, coming to a halt in the middle of the Franklin Brothers Studio parking lot. Her large, chin-length curls kept on going a second longer than she had, then bounced back into place. "You can't skip! You're nominated for —" Sadie kept walking, and she heard Meghan's shoes scuffle against the blacktop as the woman scrambled to catch up.

"I'm not going," Sadie reiterated once Meghan was at her side once more. "Please send the dress back to Domenico and Stefano with my deepest thanks, but —"

"You're on a first-name basis with Dolce & Gabbana?" When Sadie didn't respond, Meghan rolled her eyes at herself. "Of course you are. Okay. Dress and deepest thanks to Domenico and Stefano." She opened her ever- present leather planner and took the pencil out of its little looped holder inside. "Do you think Domenico and Stefano would mind if I tried the dress on first? Paraded around the office for a minute?" she asked, scribbling a note to herself while she walked.

Sadie raised an eyebrow, a look she'd practiced in the mirror and usually had people scrambling to do whatever it was she wanted. Maybe it was her eyes — a blue so pale and icy that if she wasn't grinning like a maniac, she always looked aloof, if not downright peeved. So when she actually tried to look annoyed, the earth generally moved.