Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  Her boss’s stern expression drew her out of her goofy reverie.

  “It’s not like I’m going to marry him, Mel. I just want to see where this leads. I think he really liked me.” Tracy heard the desperation in her voice and added, “And I haven’t had a guy like Leon flirt with me in, well, never.”

  Mel’s expression softened, then turned motherly. “All right. Go for it. Have a good time. Get all dolled up and knock him dead. Sound like a plan?”

  “Absolutely.” Except for the butterflies jumping around in her stomach, not to mention the niggling feeling that pursuing Leon was utterly insane.

  She pushed the thought away and smiled at her boss. “Thanks, Mel. I’ll knock him dead if it kills me.”

  * * *

  HALE YAWNED AND stretched as he wondered what the heck was going on. He would have stood up and paced, killing time by looking out the windows, but the American Ops Center of the Venerate Council of Protectors was hidden deep below the Washington Monument. Windows wouldn’t have provided much of a view.

  We go to California, we end up back here. My nerves can’t take this, I tell you. Up, down. Land, take off. Fly here. Drive there. I have sensitive sensibilities, you know. Stability. That’s what I need. Stability and a little R&R. Elmer perched on the armrest of Hale’s chair, a morose expression plastered on his little face. He sighed deeply. You really do have the worst luck with vacations.

  That Hale did, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it. Nor did he want to probe how thrilled he’d been to have an excuse to escape Bitsy and those other bathing beauties on the West Coast. That was a new neurosis he’d examine on his own.

  He turned to Zoe, who was staring openly at the ferret.

  “What’s he chattering on about?” she asked.

  “It’s the onset of ferret psychosis. Ignore him.”

  Elmer managed the ferret version of a glower, which Hale ignored as he continued to focus on his sister. “They really didn’t tell you anything about why we’re here?”

  She shook her head, her coppery hair flying. “Nope.”

  Hale frowned. He hated not knowing what was going on.

  “I got a communique, same as you,” Zoe added. She took a deep breath and snuggled back into one of the overstuffed recliners that surrounded the hologram dais. “I just think this is so cool, don’t you? We must be getting assigned to work together on a mission.” She bounced a little in her seat. “I can’t wait.”

  “Hold your horses, kid. We don’t know why we’re here. For all we know it’s a surprise party for Dad.”

  His half-sister rolled her eyes and looked smug. Heck, she was probably right, and Hale needed to get over feeling so protective of her. Just a few months ago, she might have been a halfling, unskilled at handling her superpowers. But she’d proved herself by saving the world. Not too many people—Protector or not—had that particular claim to fame.

  Still, though, he was her older brother, and it was his prerogative to worry. “Where’s Taylor?” he asked.

  “Back in Los Angeles, of course.”

  “He didn’t mind you coming out here?”

  She laughed. “He knows what I do, Hale. Heck, he’s involved in half my missions.”

  Hale nodded, that particular fact making him more than a little nervous. Taylor’s private-investigation business might be the perfect front for a crime-fighting Protector, but Hale hated the thought of his little sister relying so much on a mortal. Of course, considering his sister had gone and actually married said mortal, it wasn’t as if he could reason with her.

  “Admit it,” she said, her voice teasing. “You like him.”

  He mumbled something noncommittal.

  “Come on. I saw you two last month watching Star Wars together.”

  “It’s a good movie.”

  “And you were awfully complimentary when he helped you catch those counterfeiters.”

  “The guy’s smart. I never said he wasn’t.”

  “And you let him drive your Ferrari.”

  “I keep it parked in your garage. It’s not like I need it in Manhattan. It would be rude not to let him drive it.”

  “And...” The corner of her mouth twitched.

  “And he’s a good guy.” Hale shrugged, giving in. “You know I like him. I’m just a little wary of...”

  “Yeah?” she prompted.

  His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, kid. It’s just that I—”

  “—have a problem with mortals. I know.”

  Hale drummed his fingers on his thigh, irritated. His “problem” wasn’t exactly unreasonable. Mortal-Protector relationships didn’t work. Oh, sure, maybe the odd couple, like Zoe and Taylor, or Hale’s friend Starbuck and his fiancee Jenny, but more often than not, mortals were not to be trusted. They’d tear your heart out and leave it bleeding on the floor.

  Heck. Zoe should know that. It’s what her mom had done to their father. Hale had been a little kid at the time, and when Tessa had found out Donis’s secret, she’d told him to get out of her life and stay out. By default, she’d told Hale the same, and he’d lost a woman who’d come damn close to being the only mother he could remember. It had hurt like hell, and even though Donis and Tessa were back together, that didn’t erase the past hurt. His father might be able to forgive and forget, but Hale was smarter than that.

  As if the past didn’t hold enough red flags for Hale, now Donis was cutting back on his Protector assignments. He said it was because he wanted to retire and spend more time with Tessa, but Hale had to wonder how much was because Tessa was demanding Donis change his lifestyle. She was making Hale’s father re-examine his priorities, and that, to Hale, was bad.

  Zoe shot him a peevish look. “One of these days, I hope you meet a mortal woman who’ll bring you to your knees.” And then we’ll have to enroll you in a twelve-step program for mortal-phobes, Elmer chittered, shaking so hard with silent ferret laughter that he almost fell off the armrest.

  “Don’t hold your breath, kiddo,” Hale said to Zoe. Protect mortals? Sure. Sleep with them? No problem. Fall for them? Never. For good measure, he turned to glare at Elmer. “And you behave.”

  “Shhh.” Zoe suddenly held a finger to her lips, her eyes widening. “I hear something.”

  Zoe superpowers included super senses, so Hale didn’t doubt her, though he did wonder what his sister could possibly be hearing considering the viewing room was supposedly soundproofed and cut off from the buzzing computers and clackety-clack of keyboards out in the central processing area. He didn’t have long to wonder. Soon enough Zephron’s image appeared on the dais in front of them, and Hale realized his sister had heard the faint whirring of the hologram projector.

  They both sat back and waited for the High Elder to inform them of their mission. Since most tasks were assigned by simple communique—or even the much simpler telephone—Hale knew it must be important. A summons to the Ops Center suggested the direst of straits. Plus, the message he’d received in California had mentioned Hieronymous.

  Something was definitely amiss.

  “We have located Aphrodite’s girdle,” Zephron said without preamble.

  Hale and Zoe exchanged a look. Elmer’s fur spiked out, and the ferret crept up the chair to perch at Hale’s shoulder. Just the mention of Aphrodite’s girdle was sobering, especially since only a few months before, Zoe had been forced to save the planet by recovering the mystical stone centerpiece of the belt from Hieronymous’s minions. The stone loose in the world had been dangerous enough. The girdle loose in the world... well, the consequences could be devastating.

  “Where?” Zoe asked.

  “Los Angeles.”

  She leaned back. “Since I’m the only Protector who actually lives in L.A., I guess that means it’ll be my job.”

  Zephron’s image flickered. “Not entirely. Hale has the primary responsibility for this mission. You’ll be providing backup. This task is critical, however, and I wanted you here for a full briefing.”

>   “I understand.” She clasped her hands in her lap, showing no sign of distress, and Hale felt a swell of pride.

  “So, why me and not Zoe?” he asked, even while Elmer started singing.

  Hooray for Hollywood. Tra la la la la la la Hollywood...

  Zephron raised an eyebrow, but essentially ignored the frantically hopping ferret. “I’ll explain in a moment. First, to bring you up to speed, the girdle has been missing for years.”

  “Centuries, I thought.”

  “That is what you were meant to think. In truth, the belt surfaced once in recent history. Early in the twentieth century the Elders of the Council became aware of a mortal who possessed the belt but we were unable to reacquire it. Now, we have again detected its presence.” The Elder sighed. “Hieronymous’s spies have undoubtedly informed him of this development as well.”

  Hale nodded in understanding. His uncle, Hieronymous, had once been a powerful Protector. But his ambition was to control mortals, not keep them safe, and he’d been Outcast for years. Forbidden to use his powers under threat of the direst punishment, Hieronymous had been somewhat kept under control. Slowly but surely, however, the man was organizing an underground band of other Outcasts. He also had recruited a few Protectors—traitors who had yet to be discovered—within the Council. As soon as he had the chance, Hale and the other Protectors knew, Hieronymous would try to overthrow them.

  He’d already used his halfling son, Mordi, as part of his first serious attempt, the one Zoe had managed to foil. But if Hieronymous got his hands on Aphrodite’s girdle, he’d have another clear shot at the prize. That would be a bad deal all around for Protectors... and pretty much the end of the line for mortal freedom.

  Well, that sucks, Elmer said. Hale just nodded. The ferret’s assessment summed up the situation quite nicely.

  “I only know a little bit about the belt,” Zoe admitted, shooting Hale a scathing look.

  He slunk further down into his chair. The belt had been the focus of a little white lie he’d told his sister not too long ago, when she’d been pitted against Mordi. The verdict was still out on their cousin’s loyalty—whether he was for the Council or his father—but there was no question that the verdict had been reached on Hale’s lie: Zoe was still miffed about that.

  “I know it makes the wearer irresistible to whomever he or she desires,” his sister continued. “It’s like a focused aphrodisiac on the object of your affections.” She smiled, perhaps imagining the possibilities. “Aphrodite certainly had an obsession for that kind of thing. But that’s all I know. Is there more?”

  Zephron nodded toward Hale. “Tell her.”

  Oh, great. A pop quiz. But he smiled and turned in his chair to face his sister more directly. “You know that Aphrodite—”

  “Our great-great-great-great-etcetera grandmother.”

  “—forged it centuries ago.” When Zoe nodded, he continued. “Well, it has all sorts of powers. On a mortal, it causes what you said—love and adoration by whomever the mortal desires. It’s sort of a sensual magnet. It also works even if there’s no romantic desire, although the effect is much weaker.”

  Zoe frowned. “I’m not following.”

  Hale’s brow furrowed as he tried to think of an example. “Okay, let’s say you’re a mortal and you have the belt. Whoever you desire—romantically, sensually, sexually, whatever—is going to love and adore you.”

  “Like a love potion.”

  “Right,” Hale said, looking to Zephron for confirmation.

  “Very true,” the Elder said.

  “I understand that,” Zoe said. “But you said it works even if I don’t desire the guy.”

  “Right.” Hale shrugged. “Maybe you’re in a department store and want better service. Or a movie’s sold out and you’re wishing the manager would let you in anyway.”

  Zoe grinned. “Well, heck, that sounds better.”

  “What do you mean?” Hale asked.

  “I’ve already got Taylor. But premium seats at a movie sound great.”

  Hale rolled his eyes, continuing with his explanation. “That’s if it’s a mortal who’s wearing it. But on a Protector—”

  “Let me guess,” Zoe said. “On a Protector, the effect is even more intense. Love and adoration by everyone—no matter whether or not the wearer desires them. Mind-control, basically. So if Hieronymous got a hold of the thing...”

  “Even Zephron would bend to his will,” Hale finished.

  They looked at each other, then turned to look at Zephron, who inclined his head in silent agreement.

  Wow, squeaked Elmer. This just keeps getting better and better. Most ferrets hadn’t mastered sarcasm. Elmer had it down pat.

  “No kidding,” Hale said.

  “So where is it?” Zoe asked. “I mean, where in Los Angeles?”

  “We don’t know.” Zephron’s image turned, focusing entirely on Hale. “It is your job to find out.”

  “No prob—”

  “Uh, question.” Hale’s sister pressed her lips together, clearly sorry for interrupting, but not sorry enough to wait.

  “Yes, young Zoe?” Zephron looked at her, his eyes warm and grandfatherly. Hale bit back a smile. His little sister had certainly wormed her way into the heart of the usually stern High Elder.

  “I realize I’m still new, but... well... how’d it get away the first time?”

  Zephron’s face tightened, his expression more serious than Hale could ever remember seeing. “It was missing for a long time during the silent-film era. Then, a young actress named Tahlula Tannin acquired the belt. We still don’t know how. When we became aware that she had it, the Council’s inner circle rallied to recover it. Our mission failed.”

  “Why?” Zoe asked the question on Hale’s tongue.

  “At the time, the inner circle consisted of my father and your grandfather.”

  “Oh.” That pretty much said it all. Their Grandfather Hector had sired both Donis and Hieronymous. Zoe and Hale’s dad took after his mother, whereas Hieronymous was more like his father. Not exactly the most upstanding Protector ever.

  “So Grandfather Hector stole the belt from this Tahlula person?” Hale asked.

  Zephron shook his head. “I almost wish he had. The belt is protected by Aphrodite’s magic. We don’t know all the rules, but we do know that no Protector can take it from a mortal. It must be given to him freely by whatever mortal has possession of it. If not, the Protector who steals it loses his powers forever.”

  “Wow,” Zoe said.

  “Precisely,” Zephron agreed. “Our problem lay within a power struggle between my father and your grandfather. Each tried to acquire the belt. They wined and dined Ms. Tannin, seeking to persuade her to make a gift of the belt, but to no avail. Your grandfather did manage to acquire the stone centerpiece before it was lost again—that is another story—but the woman would not give up the girdle itself.

  “My father visited her in a final effort to persuade her, but by the time he arrived the belt was gone. She wouldn’t say where she had taken it, but there was never any indication again that the woman had it in her possession. Despite our surveillance.”

  “And it’s never been located since?” Hale asked.

  “Never.”

  “We failed?” Zoe sounded vaguely disappointed.

  “I’m afraid it does happen, child. If every mission were successful, we would not be so concerned about Hieronymous’s efforts to rally all Outcasts.”

  Zoe nodded, but didn’t look too happy. “How can you know it’s in Los Angeles but not know where exactly? For that matter, what do you mean when you say you ‘became aware’ this Tahlula woman had it?”

  Zephron beamed as if at a prize pupil. “An excellent question, my dear.” He turned to Hale. “Care to venture a guess?”

  “A tracking device, probably.” A number of Council artifacts could be traced through Protector technology.

  “Essentially, yes,” Zephron agreed. “Your ancestor, Aphrodi
te, bequeathed the girdle to the mortal world.” His face reflected a hint of disapproval. “She was always a prankster, that woman. At any rate, her magic protects the belt. The Council can hone in on its location, but only if a mortal is actually wearing it. The longer the mortal wears the belt, the more specifically we can pinpoint the location.”

  “Like a phone tap,” Zoe said.

  “Exactly.” Zephron nodded. “But if the belt is unworn, it is completely invisible to us.”

  “It’s gold mesh, right?” Zoe asked. “With a stone in the center?”

  Zephron nodded, then turned, fumbling out of the range of the hologram projector. When he came back into view, he was holding a belt. “This is what it looks like,” he said, holding it out for Hale and Zoe to inspect. “My father had this duplicate crafted. He thought to interest Tahlula in an exchange, but she showed no interest in the bargain.”

  “When did it last show up?” Hale asked. “The real deal, I mean. Not the duplicate.”

  “A week ago. A mere blip. So now you will resort to more conventional methods to locate it.”

  “Taylor can help,” Zoe suggested.

  “Not necessary,” Hale said.

  Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “Watch it, big brother. Taylor’s perfectly capable, and he works with me all the time.”

  Hale grumbled an assent. If he didn’t agree, he’d never hear the end of it. Besides, the guy was a private investigator. Even if he was a mortal, too.

  “I suggest you begin your investigation with Tahlula Tannin,” Zephron said. “The last time we saw it, the belt was in her possession. Perhaps it has not gone as far as we thought.”

  “We’ll start with her family,” Hale said. “Maybe someone inherited it.” He turned to Zoe with a bit of a peace offering. “Taylor can start there, trying to track down who she left her property to.”