by J. Kenner
More than anything, she didn’t want to be alone in bed with her fantasies of Hale. Just thinking about him conjured his scent, and she breathed deep, unsure if she was imagining him, or if in only a few short hours his musky cologne had already permeated her halls. She hoped for the latter. There was something comforting about sensing he was there with each breath she took. Even if Hale wasn’t permanent, she wanted his memory to be.
A renegade tear trailed down her cheek, and she wiped it away.
Mel had said he loved her, but how could that be true? He’d made it clear his attention was just because of the belt. The belt. It wasn’t her. And how could she argue with her past failures?
In her mind, she went over all the times she’d been wearing the belt. When they’d gone out for coffee. When . . .
She frowned. When they’d made love, she hadn’t been wearing the belt. She’d taken it off and draped it over the chair. That first time, too. Mel was right. He had been flirting. And that was before she’d even pulled it out of her grandmother’s box again and decided to wear it.
And taking her to the ocean and buying her the car kit—those weren’t lust things. Or even something he’d had to do to keep her safe. No, he’d been sweet. Caring. Even romantic.
Frowning, she moved to the stove, trying to get her mind around what common sense was telling her. As she walked, something brushed against her cheek. She whipped around. Nothing. She shivered, not feeling alone at all, but also not feeling scared.
Just the opposite, actually. In fact, she felt cherished. How?
“Hale?” She peered around the kitchen, looking for some sign that he was there, invisible, and watching her. Nothing. No sounds of breathing. No ghostly glimmers. No telltale reflections in the teakettle. Nothing.
Suddenly, she remembered that night in her room. She’d seen him in the mirror, and she’d assumed he was a fantasy. But no dream lover had ever been that sweet, that perfect.
No, he’d wanted her even then, and he’d been overwhelmed enough to come to her and play the role she’d already had going in her head.
The logical part of her brain told her she should be furious. He’d been spying, and he’d taken advantage. But the rest of her—the part that loved him incontestably and was hopeful he loved her—only felt flattered. He’d made her feel special without her even knowing he was there. How many people would do that? And obviously he couldn’t have found his own release. It had all been about her.
Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be here now, and no amount of hoping and wishing would make him appear. Which made sense, really. After all, it was three in the morning. He was surely sound asleep in his room. She was the neurotic nutcase who couldn’t sleep.
No, Hale wasn’t in the room, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t here with her. She’d awakened for a reason. Her subconscious had a message for her, and it was time she listened to what it was saying. Heck, to what Mel had been saying. Hale did love her. She just had to believe it.
She let the thought in, and all of a sudden she was sure of it. Just like she knew her own name. Just like she knew that she loved him. Truly. Perfectly. Magically. She knew it simply from the way he looked at her, the way he touched her. No enchantment could do that. Especially when, if what he told her about the belt was true, a good chunk of the time he hadn’t even been enchanted around her.
No, the belt wasn’t anything except an excuse.
Which raised an interesting question. Why had he lied to her?
Because you’re you, and Hale’s Hale. He probably just couldn’t see himself with her. Heck, he was probably astounded with himself for falling for a girl like her. And he’d latched onto the belt as the easiest escape route.
Which meant that even though he wanted her, he didn’t want her.
Well, wasn’t that the story of her life?
Losing her appetite, Tracy turned off the fire under her kettle and headed back to bed. Even a man who loved her didn’t want her. What kind of odds did that leave for her love life once Hale was out of it?
And for that matter, did she really care? She wanted Hale, no one else.
And that’s when she decided she didn’t intend to give up without a fight.
She didn’t have a plan, but as she slipped back into her room and crawled back under her covers, she came up with the next best thing: Zoe. In the morning, she’d talk to Zoe. If anyone knew how to get Hale to open up, surely his sister would.
As Tracy drifted off to sleep, she opened her eyes just long enough to gaze into her mirror. There, on the chaise lounge, she imagined that she saw Hale watching her. Protecting her. She didn’t know if it was a dream or reality, but at the moment, either was enough.
A smile touched her lips and she snuggled deeper into her pillow, sure that he really did love her. She just had to teach him to act like it.
“You have failed me yet again.” Hieronymous paced in front of his windows, gazing down at the pathetic mortals wandering back and forth on the street below.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
Hieronymous whipped around, not liking the hint of uppity-ness in his son’s voice. “Do you think this is funny? How often do you think an opportunity like this comes along? That belt would provide me with a chance—a real chance—to gather my minions and overthrow the Council.”
“I know that, sir.” The color had drained from Mordichai’s face. Good. His son should be nervous. “I am sorry.”
Striding toward Mordi, Hieronymous tested a smile. “Sorry isn’t sufficient, son.” He wanted to strangle the boy, but he didn’t. He needed Mordi. If not for this mission, then in the future. Mordi was in with the Council, and that made him a valuable asset. “I need to know that you are still with me.” He pressed his hand against his son’s shoulder. “That we’re still a team.”
“Of course, Sir.”
Mordi didn’t meet his eyes, and so Hieronymous slipped a finger under the boy’s chin and tipped his head up.
“What’s that? I don’t think I quite heard you.”
This time, Mordi met his gaze head-on, his green eyes blazing. “I said, of course I’m still with you, Sir. You’re my father. Where else would I be?”
“Where else indeed?” With the answer he wanted in hand, Hieronymous backed off, his silk cloak fluttering behind him. “I’m glad to hear that, son. I was rather concerned when my sources informed me that you had the woman in your grips . . . and yet I don’t have the belt in my hand.”
“She didn’t have the belt with her. I didn’t have anyway of finding out where it was. I made an attempt, but circumstances—”
“I am not interested in circumstances. I am interested in results.” He drummed his fingers on his desk, the steady rhythm calming his nerves.
“Yes, Sir.”
“I hope I am making myself clear.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Good. Then we’re agreed. You will return to Los Angeles. You will get the girl. She will be wearing the belt. You will bring the girl to the new location where Clyde and I will meet you to persuade the girl to relinquish it.” He looked Mordichai in the eye, hoping for some sign of the strength he knew must flow in the boy’s blood. Seeing an inkling of backbone, he nodded, pleased.
“You will do this,” he said, turning back to the window and the parasitic mortals scurrying below, “or the next talk we have will not be nearly this pleasant.”
“He’s been out there all morning.” Tracy stood at the kitchen window, nodding toward the far side of the yard. Fortunately, she had enough property that no one could see in from the street, because what they would see would surely send the tabloid photographers running.
“He’s actually doing yard work?” Zoe asked.
“And at the speed of light. He’s already completely re-landscaped the west side of the house—and I’m talking replanting trees and laying down granite pathways—and now he’s starting over here.”
Lane peered toward the window. “What exact
ly is he doing?”
“I’m not sure,” Tracy said. “I think he’s installing a koi pond. At any rate, it’s pretty amazing.”
“Not as amazing as you think,” Zoe said, a smile touching her lips.
They headed back to the kitchen table. “What do you mean?”
Zoe shook her head. “Just that he cares about you. And that this is his warped but sincere way of showing it.”
Tracy nodded. Now or never. “Actually, that’s kind of why I asked you to come over this morning.”
“I was wondering. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“No scenes with the animals today, so it’s a freebie.” She nodded toward Elmer, who was sacked out in the candy dish on the kitchen table. “I’m supposed to be rehearsing him. Instead, I’m still angsting about your brother.”
“He has that effect on people.”
“Should I leave?” Lane asked.
Tracy shook her head. The more people who could give her insight into Hale’s psyche, the better.
Speaking of people, the doorbell rang, then they heard the door open. Tracy aimed a shrug in Zoe and Lane’s direction. “The more the merrier, right?”
“Hey, girl? You in here?”
“In the kitchen, Mel.”
About two seconds later, Tracy’s boss appeared, hauling Penelope in an animal kennel with one hand, a box of donuts tucked under her other arm. “I have a meeting with some Disney folks this afternoon and Chris called in sick. I can’t leave the expectant mom all alone.”
Tracy nodded at her one empty chair. “No problem. Do you have time to hang out? We’re dishing about my love life.”
Mel sat down, plunking Penelope’s kennel on the floor next to her. Elmer immediately perked up, his little nose twitching. After a second, he crawled to the edge of the table, peered over, and then hopped down onto the kennel. In a few seconds, the two ferrets were chattering away.
“Great. Hale’s ferret’s got a better handle on his personal life than I do.”
“Hon,” Mel said. “Everyone has a better handle on their personal life than you.”
Tracy scowled at her, but didn’t argue. “Okay,” she agreed deciding to just take the plunge. “Here’s the thing.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve decided Hale really loves me.”
“I told you,” Mel said.
“Yeah, well, maybe the belt’s affecting him a little bit, but it can’t be affecting him as much as he thinks, because there’ve been at least two occasions where I wasn’t wearing it that . . .” She pressed her lips together. “I was thinking about it last night. Unless there’s some leftover enchantment—”
“There’s not,” Zoe interrupted.
Tracy blinked at her. “What?”
“There’s no leftover enchantment. There’s not even any enchantment in the first place.”
“But . . . ? Of course there is. Henchmen, remember? Magic belt. Aphrodite. That’s why you guys are here.”
Zoe and Lane exchanged glances, then Lane nodded. “Worn by a mortal, the belt has no power over a Protector,” Zoe said.
“Oh.” The words sunk in. “Oh!” But if the belt didn’t affect Hale, then . . . She scowled. “Does Hale know that?”
Zoe nodded. “He knows.”
“And he told me he was enchanted anyway. I knew it. He loves me and just won’t admit it. Why?”
Lane spoke up. “The thing is, Hale’s got mortal issues.”
“He does,” Zoe agreed. “It’s true.”
“He’s a hotshot Protector, so he thinks he’s better than we are. Once he makes friends with you, he’s fabulous. But getting there.” Her eyes widened. “Jeez. It’s torture.”
“Is that it?” Tracy asked. “He’s got a superiority complex?”
“Not exactly,” Zoe answered. She turned to Lane. “There’s a little of that, I’m sure, but mostly I think it’s a defense mechanism.” She shrugged. “We don’t talk about it a whole lot, but if I had to play Dr. Freud, I’d say he’s afraid you’re going to leave. He’s afraid to get close. He’s latched onto this belt thing and he’s using it as a crutch.”
“He thinks I’m going to leave?” Tracy couldn’t believe it. “What? He thinks I’m going to do better than a superhero? A gorgeous cover model? A man who makes me laugh and makes me feel safe?” She shook her head. “After years of being with someone like Walter who couldn’t keep his eyes in their sockets, suddenly, I’m the one branded with being a quitter?”
“Ironic, huh?” Mel said. “Your biggest neurosis, and the guy you fall for is suffering the same thing.”
Tracy tilted her head back. “More than ironic. It’s pathetic.” She sat up straighter “No. I wouldn’t go anywhere. But why on earth wouldn’t Hale? I mean, look at him.” She pressed her lips together, the familiar insecurity weighing down on her once again. “Seriously, even if I was to get him to admit he loves me, what’s to say he’s going to stay? And why would he stay with me?”
Zoe reached over and took her hand. “Because that’s what people in love do.” Her lip curved up in a gentle smile. “I seem to be having this conversation a lot lately, but sometimes you just have to put your faith in the other person.”
“I want to. I really do. But he’s been blowing hot and cold. Like Walter. Like Leon.”
“Do you really think Hale’s like either of them?” Mel asked.
She sighed. “He hasn’t acted much better than them . . . But, no. I’m just scared.” She looked at each of the women in turn. “If I do confront him, and he does love me, but he doesn’t stay . . .” She shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
“At least you’ll have tried,” Lane said. “You’ll have put your heart on the line. You’ll have taken a chance.”
“When you get right down to it, what more can any of us do?” Zoe asked.
Tracy nodded, trying to absorb it all. She did want him. Oh, how she wanted him. But she didn’t want to be hurt. Not again.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to Zoe. “So, why does he think I’ll leave?”
“It has to do with my mother.” Zoe explained how her mother, Tessa, walked away when she was pregnant. She’d walked the day she found out about Zoe and Hale’s father’s superpowers.
“And they’re not the only mortal-Protector couple with troubles,” Zoe continued. “It’s hard. I think all the troubles are in relief for Hale because he’d just lost his mom, and he was kind of pinning his hopes on mine when she left.” She shrugged. “Anyway, who can ever really tell what’s in a guy’s head? The point is, he’s crazy about you. And you two should be together.”
“So what should I do? Confront him?”
Elmer started squeaking, and Mel picked him up, stroking his furry little head.
“Too bad we can’t understand him,” Zoe said. “He probably knows my brother better than anyone.”
Elmer made some more frantic gestures, then started nudging Mel’s waist. She shrugged. “Not getting it.”
“I am,” Tracy said. She leaned over to grab Elmer, then plopped him onto the table. “He’s saying I should wear the belt.”
The ferret started scurrying around in circles. Not exactly enthusiastic agreement, but close.
“No,” Zoe realized. “Not the belt. A belt. A duplicate.” Tracy frowned. “A duplicate? How? Why?”
Zoe ignored her. “That’s perfect,” she agreed, as Elmer bounced up and down. “And I know just where to find one.” She stood up, pulling out her cell phone. “I just have to make one quick call.”
26
The sun was beginning to set as Hale finished laying the stones around the koi pond. He’d been unable to find the kind of marble he wanted, so he’d flown over to Texas earlier in the day and brought back some granite.
All in all, he was pleased with the way the yard was shaping up. He hoped Tracy was, too. After all, it was the least he could do for her.
Not that he was doing it just for her. Spending twelve hours landscaping her entire yard had been the
rapeutic for him, as well. Even on no sleep, he’d needed to get out and work with his hands.
Last night, it had taken a supreme act of will to simply sit on her chaise lounge and watch her sleep. He’d longed to curl up next to her. Longed to tell her he’d lied, and that he was sorry.
And that he loved her.
But those weren’t words he intended to say. He knew what was best for him. He’d always known. And he also knew to trust his instincts.
It was just hell that, for the first time in his life, his finely honed instincts seemed to be torturing instead of protecting him.
With a sigh, he hauled the last of the tools back inside the gardener’s shed. Though the yard had lights, he couldn’t stay out here forever. Zoe had come to be with Tracy during the day, but it would still be Hale’s job to watch over her at night. No matter how torturous that might be.
Shutting the door behind him, he turned back around, ready to head down the newly laid flagstone path toward the house.
“Hiya, stranger.”
Tracy stood in front of him.
“Hey,” he said. She didn’t look angry. In fact, she looked happy to see him, and the realization pleased him more than he’d anticipated. He waved his hand at the yard. “What do you think?”
She moved closer to him. “I think you’ve done an amazing job.” Her hand reached out, stroking his bare chest. “I’d have to say you’re the best landscaper I’ve ever had.”
His pulse beat in his throat. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She’d been angry—no, furious—about his “confession.” He’d hurt her. And for a day she’d been avoiding him. So why the sudden seductress routine?
“I want you,” she said. She skimmed her hand down her simple sundress, stopping at her waist. The gold of Aphrodite’s belt sparkled in the light of the rising moon. “And if this is what I have to do to have you, then so be it.”