by J. Kenner
It worked; she laughed. A genuine laugh that burst out so fast she slapped a hand over her mouth, almost dropping Elmer in the process.
Watch it! Some of us can’t levitate, you know!
A flurry of movement near him caught Hale’s eye, and he turned to look into the sleepy eyes of a female ferret. “Well, hi, there. What’s your name?” he said.
Penelope. The high-pitched female ferret voice wasn’t as refined as Elmer’s, but it had a hint of Elmer’s intelligence, and Hale wondered about the female’s bloodline.
“That’s Penelope,” Tracy said, and Hale got the impression she was relieved to be talking about her animals instead of herself.
Penelope’s gaze drifted to Elmer. Hiya, handsome.
If Elmer could have blushed, Hale expected that he would have done so. Instead, he just burrowed his head under Tracy’s arm. Hale rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his grin. Who would have thought Elmer would be the shy, silent type?
“She’s who Elmer’s replacing,” Tracy added, shifting him. “Pregnant ferrets have a tendency not to train well.”
Excuse me? Elmer’s head popped up. I’m replacing a girl? I don’t think so.
Calm down studmuffin, Penelope said. If you’re any kind of an actor, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.
Uh-oh. Anyone challenging Elmer’s acting skills was sure to get a rise, and Hale aimed a stern glare in Elmer’s direction, silently warning him to watch it.
Surprisingly, the ferret didn’t seem to need prompting. Instead, the little guy was practically preening from Penelope’s attention. Sweetheart, my acting skills are up there with the best. If there was a Best Ferret category at the Academy Awards, I’d win it.
Good for you, champ, she squeaked.
Elmer did a little ferret dance, and Hale stifled the urge to roll his eyes.
Tracy scratched Elmer’s head, then rubbed under his chin when he turned over, his paws spread. “Excitable, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea,” Hale said. How long, he wondered, would it be before she stroked his body, her soft hands exploring his skin? Soon. But not soon enough, that was for damn sure.
He stifled a groan. Pretty pathetic, being jealous of one’s ferret.
Tracy’s perfect, pink tongue slipped out, moistening her lips as she glanced at him. “Um . . . yes, well, I guess we should take a look at the script. I figure you’ll want to be around for Elmer’s scenes, right?”
Hale nodded. “Absolutely.”
She turned away from him to squeeze sideways between the kennels and a table piled with bags of pet food and doggie toys. “Sorry about the mess.”
It wasn’t the mess Hale minded. It was the dust. Tiny particles of animal fur mixed with bits of dirt and all of it suspended in the smoggy Los Angeles air. Not a good mix for a guy with allergies. His nose twitched and he tried to hold back a sneeze.
No such luck.
A-a-a-choooo
Hale popped out of the visible realm, silently cursing, and reminding himself again that a trip to the drugstore really was crucial. With focused effort, he tried to ward off another sneeze and materialize before the girl turned back around.
No such luck.
“Bless you,” she said, peering over her shoulder toward where he had been. “Hale?” She blinked, then turned in a circle. “Where’d you go?”
Damn! He ducked under the table and concentrated on materializing. “Down here,” he said, as soon as he’d become visible.
“Of course you are.” In front of him, her feet shuffled. Then her knees appeared, followed by all of her. “Any reason we’re down here on the floor?”
Because my man Hale can’t be bothered with allergy shots, Elmer chittered.
Hale ignored the ferret as he tried to think of a reasonable response. “Uh, just checking for mice.” Oh, yeah, that was brilliant. “Elmer doesn’t work well if there are mice around.”
Oh, sure. You act like an idiot and I get blamed.
Hale stood up, then aimed a glare toward Elmer.
Tracy followed, her expression curious but, thankfully, she didn’t challenge him. “No mice,” she said. Her hand swept the trailer, pointing out the stacks of kennels. “Not the trained kind or the roaming-free kind. Hardly any animals today, actually.” At the moment, the kennels were all empty except for Penelope’s and, now, a still-damp dog.
“Where are the rest of the inmates?” he joked, happy to be back in a somewhat normal conversation.
A smile twisted her lips. “Mel’s compound. Today we were only shooting with Peanut. Penelope’s only here so we can keep an eye on her during her pregnancy.” Her arm swept the bank of cages. “Next week, these kennels will all be full. We’re going to shoot a scene in Mrs. Dolittle’s clinic. You know, one of those supposedly funny scenes where the animals get loose and wreak havoc?”
Hale shot a wry glance in Elmer’s direction, but the ferret didn’t even notice as he was making eyes at Penelope. “I can imagine.”
She put Elmer down on the table and pulled out a chair, gesturing for Hale to take the other. “Sorry about the tight fit.”
“Doesn’t bother me at all.” His arm brushed against hers as he sat. “I like tight fits.”
Oh, puhleaze. Ferrets couldn’t exactly roll their eyes, but Elmer came awfully close. Apparently, he was paying attention again.
“Oh.” The pink returned to her cheeks. Mighty Zeus, the woman was adorable. “Right. Well . . . the script.”
“The script,” he repeated.
She nodded. Then she asked, “So, how has Elmer worked in the past? Do his old trainers have any tricks I should know about?”
“Elmer’s a quick study.”
“He is?” She turned to face Hale, her eyes dancing. “That’s good to know. How about you? Are you a quick study, too?” For just a second, the small smile hung on her lips; then she turned away—as if she’d hit her maximum flirting potential. Too bad. He liked that light in her eyes. And he wanted to be the one who put it there.
She might want a fling—if what she’d told her friend Mel was true—but clearly she didn’t have any experience in initiating one. Fortunately, Hale had plenty of experience, and he was only too happy to take the lead. For the good of the mission, of course.
He let his gaze roam over her, drawing a deep satisfaction from the tiny goose bumps he saw on her arms in the wake of his lazy examination. “I’m a quick study when I want to be.”
“Oh.” She flipped a page of the script, her eyes glued to the paper. “So, um, will you be coming out to the compound every day?”
He sat back. “Compound?”
What compound? Elmer squeaked, managing to look both curious and terrified.
“Mel’s ranch. It’s where all the animals stay. I just assumed Elmer . . .”
Oh no. I’m not staying with a bunch of inarticulate dogs and cats. Unless . . . He drifted off, looking Penelope’s way.
The female ferret chittered. In my condition? Don’t even think about it, big guy. I stay in the house. You’d be out in the shed with the others.
“I don’t think Elmer would thrive in that kind of environment,” Hale said. He shot a look toward the little guy that he hoped conveyed the need for silence.
“Oh, dear. I’m sure that’s what Mel had in mind. Especially since we need to start some pretty intensive training if we don’t want to throw the show’s schedule off.”
“Isn’t there some other way we could work this?” No matter how short this mission turned out to be, he had to live with Elmer for the rest of his life. And if he left the furry little critter in a wire kennel with a bowl of food, instead of a plush hotel room with HBO and room service, well, he’d never hear the end of it.
“I don’t know. I suppose we could . . .” She drifted off with a frown.
“What?”
“I’m not even sure Mel would agree.” She caught his eye. “This is her business, you know. But considering Mel’s schedule this week, I’ll pro
bably be the one training Elmer. So we could work at my house every evening.” She looked at him, as if gauging his reaction. “You’d have to bring Elmer over every night. And you might find the whole process pretty tiresome.”
“Not at all. Besides, he’ll do better if I’m there.”
“Well . . .” Hesitation still lurked in her voice as she toyed with the script. “We’ll ask Mel. If she agrees and you’re okay with it, then I guess we can try.”
“Actually, I have a better idea.” He leaned forward, putting the plan he’d made with Taylor and Zoe into action. “Someone told me you’re looking for a roommate.”
Her eyes went wide. Then she quickly dipped her head and focused on her fingernails. “Well. Um. Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“At the moment, I’m living in a hotel. A nice hotel, but it’s still a hotel.”
“And you’d want to move in with me? But don’t you have an apartment somewhere?” Her voice squeaked, and he knew he’d thrown her off balance. Well, what the heck. He was pretty off balance right now, himself.
“Manhattan,” he said. “And I wouldn’t be moving in for good. Just while Elmer’s on the show. That would give you some income while you’re looking for a full-time roommate.” Even to his own ears, it sounded like a perfectly reasonable plan, with no hint of the seduction he had planned shining through. None at all.
Elmer snorted.
“Well . . .” She trailed off, and Hale put on his responsible, upstanding citizen face. “I guess it could work out. But are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s not like there’s room service.”
Told you. Now I really am going to starve!
“And the pool hasn’t been cleaned in a year.” Tracy nibbled on her lower lip. “I doubt it’s what you’re used to.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect.”
She cocked her head, watching him. “Okay,” she said, the word almost a sigh. As if she knew she was doing a foolish thing, but couldn’t help herself. Well, that made two of them.
“I guess we’ve got a deal.” She shrugged again. “I’ve . . . um . . . got plans tonight. Why don’t you move in tomorrow evening?”
Hale leaned back in his chair, thoroughly satisfied with himself. “I have an even better idea,” he said, taking the next step toward a wild, wanton fling. “After I drop my stuff off tomorrow, why don’t I take you out for a night on the town?”
From his perch on the roof of the Paws In Production trailer, Mordichai tapped his fingers on his thigh, pondering the situation. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, knowing he was safe from prying eyes. His prototype model 47A Propulsion Cloak included an invisibility feature as well as a supercharged propulsion pack for fast getaways.
Hale wasn’t the only one who could slip in and out undetected. And unlike his cousin, Mordi didn’t fade away during an allergy attack. All he had to worry about was undercharged batteries.
Now here he was at the start of his mission, and he hadn’t a clue what step to take next. Right after he’d received the message from his father about Zoe and Hale being on the case, the tracking monitor had started blipping its little heart out. This Tracy Tannin girl had put on the belt, and anyone who might be looking could zero in on her.
Unfortunately, Hale had gotten to her before him. Still, Mordi was here now. He was on the case. He was da man. He had the girl in his sights. For once, he had the chance to best his cousin—and he intended to make the most of it.
The question was, now that he’d found the girl, what did he do with her? Especially since it wasn’t Tracy he cared about, but the damn belt.
Lucky for him, the belt’s location hadn’t proved to be a huge mystery. Too bad for him, the girl seemed attached to the thing. He wondered if she was wearing it because of its dubious fashionable qualities or because she’d discovered its magical properties.
For the moment, he assumed the former—even though it meant the girl had pretty lousy taste in clothes. Considering the short amount of time she’d worn the thing, he doubted she could have yet clued in to its more mysterious capabilities.
Unfortunately, time wasn’t on Mordi’s side. And once she figured out the belt’s qualities, she was never going to want to give it up. Not to him, not to Hale, not to anyone.
He drummed his fingers on the roof—softly, so that no one inside the trailer would hear—and considered his predicament. If he didn’t acquire the belt, his father would disown him. Or worse. But as a Probationary Status Council Member, if he went after the belt for himself and got caught, he could pretty much kiss his Council membership good-bye.
He needed to decide what he wanted—his father, his career, or something entirely different. His own path, wherever that might lead.
All his life, he’d only wanted his father’s approval, his father’s love. But now he’d passed his twenty-fifth birthday. He was a grown man, old enough to be a member of the Council. And certainly old enough to know that Hieronymous loved no one except Hieronymous. If Mordi tried hard enough, worked hard enough, and never stumbled again, he might—might—earn his father’s respect. Maybe even his admiration.
But his love?
Not hardly. And it was about damn time that Mordi came to grips with that fact.
No, the only one who cared about Mordi was Mordi. And he cared a great deal.
Under the camouflage of his invisibility cloak, he stroked his chin. Hieronymous wanted the belt, but maybe Mordichai did, too. And if Mordi managed to acquire it—and if he kept it—well, that would certainly make dear old Dad sit up and take notice.
The only problem was how. How could he get his hands on that belt?
Well, that was why he was camped out on a trailer roof in the middle of the San Fernando Valley, the blazing sun above hot enough to melt the tar on the shingles.
Too bad Hale had beat him to the punch. The mission would have been so much easier if Mordi had located the girl first. Zeus knew, his cousin had all the right equipment to charm the belt right off Tracy. And, unfortunately, Mordi wasn’t any match for Hale where women were concerned.
Unless . . .
Shifting a little—the sun-warmed roof shingles were beginning to irritate his rear end—he tried to catch onto the tail end of that fleeting thought. This Tracy Tannin seemed pretty average as mortals went. What was it that mortal women wanted? What was it all those Oprah-like daytime talk shows were always touting? A man who understood them. Who could talk to them. Who really, really listened.
That sure wouldn’t be Hale. His cousin wasn’t exactly known for his sensitive side where women were concerned. Especially mortal women.
But Mordi was half-mortal. Not that he had a particular fondness for them—his mother had been mortal, after all—but he at least knew how to walk the walk and talk the talk.
So, in this particular instance, Mordi just might be able to best Hale after all.
11
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?” Tracy leaned against the door of her car, still not believing Hale had asked her out. First Leon, now him! Her luck was certainly changing. The cover model stood mere inches away, and she loved the easy familiarity they’d already developed. Her eyes drifted to his shoulder where Elmer usually perched; then she remembered that Hale had left the ferret sitting in the front seat of his Ferrari with strict instructions to “hang tight.”
He actually seemed to think the animal not only understood, but would obey. No question about it—the man had some eccentricities. She supposed that should scare her off—isn’t that what all those women’s mags said?—but with Hale, they just seemed to draw her closer. She’d known him for what? No time at all, really. And already she was smitten.
Mentally she grinned. The word was a little corny, but it described her situation completely. Smitten. Not that she’d had far to fall. She’d already been entranced by the fantasy Hale she’d made up to go along with his cover persona. Now she only hoped he’d live up to her imagination.
Of course, at the m
oment he still hadn’t answered her question. He was just looking at her with a curious expression. Perhaps he didn’t think his fame and eccentricities meshed all that well with her normal, boring little life. Maybe he’d rethought his offer.
A thoroughly depressing thought. Best to just take the plunge and find out. “Um? Hale? Tomorrow? Are we still on?” So much for being articulate. They’d just spent two hours in close quarters, laughing and being perfectly comfortable, but with the return of her insecurity, so came the return of mush-brain.
But Hale’s eyes brightened, as if he’d been far, far away and she’d only just pulled him back. Then a lazy grin spread across his face. “You can count on it.”
She almost exhaled in relief, but managed to catch herself. Instead, she just said, “Good.”
One simple word, but it conveyed so much. At least she hoped it did. Her first reaction to having Hale move in might have been nerves, but that had soon been replaced by an all-over tingling. Excitement. Anticipation. It was so much more than she felt for her date with Leon. She almost wished she could cancel tonight, but she’d never had quite so much attention from the male of the species, and she didn’t intend to count her eggs before her chickens hatched. Or something like that.
Still, she shivered, thinking about tomorrow with Hale rather than tonight with Leon. Instead of just dropping her off after their date, he’d be coming in, too. In such close quarters together, who knows what might happen?
Something interesting, she hoped.
Hale’s masculine scent teased her as he leaned past, reaching for the door handle, and she just about melted on the spot. Instinctively, she stepped closer, wanting more of him, then realized what she was doing. She pressed back against the hot metal of her car—it might have been baking in the sun all day, but the heat it generated wasn’t any match for the temperature of her blood right now.
The dimple in Hale’s cheek appeared, as if he knew the effect he was having on her. But he didn’t say a word, just pulled the car door open for her. Feeling slightly foolish, she slid inside. He closed the door after her, then stepped back from the car.