Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  Oh, my. All of a sudden her knees went weak. So it was probably fortunate that a chair was floating through the air, making its way toward her. The second it settled behind her, she collapsed onto it, the sound of Missy’s frantic barking ringing in her ears.

  “Magic,” she whispered. “I was right.”

  “Telekinesis, actually,” Hale said. “You know, the ability to move stuff with your mind. Or with my mind, actually.” He flashed her that cocky grin she so adored. “You can do a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure you can’t do that.”

  “Yeah,” she said, gripping the bottom of her chair so she didn’t topple over. “I’m pretty sure, too.”

  “Don’t worry,” Taylor said. “You’ll get used to it after a while.”

  “Used to what? And what does this have to do with my belt?”

  “Your belt’s an artifact,” Hale said. He got up and moved to stand behind her. “And there’s some rather bad guys who want to get a hold of it.” He squeezed her shoulders. “And you.”

  “And that’s why you jumped Mordi?” she asked, turning to squint at Hale’s cousin. “Because you think he’s one of the bad guys?” He’d been nice to her. But then so had they all. And they were all evidently in this together. Whatever this was.

  She tilted her head back, staring at Hale’s face while she waited for his answer, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was looking at Mordi, the crease in his forehead suggesting he was thinking very hard.

  “The jury’s still out on that,” Hale said at last.

  “Hmmm.” Tracy wasn’t so sure. In her mind, anyone who could and would provide astute advice about her love life was firmly entrenched on the good side. But that wasn’t a topic she intended to raise. Not now, anyway.

  She turned back to Hale. “So what kind of artifact?”

  “Extremely old,” he answered. “Thousands of years. And it’s been lost. Somehow your grandmother got a hold of it.”

  “Okaaaay.” It wasn’t really, but she was willing to go with the flow for now. “And what do you have to do with the thing? Are you part of some magical, mystical police unit that retrieves artifacts?” She tilted her head back again to await his response.

  Another one of those looks passed between Hale and Zoe.

  “Um, guys?” Tracy lifted her hand, waving a bit to get their attention. “I was kidding.”

  “Maybe you were and maybe you weren’t,” Deena said.

  “You might as well start at the beginning,” Zoe said to her brother. “It’ll make more sense that way.”

  Hale gave Tracy’s shoulders one last squeeze, then moved in front of her. His touch left an echo on her skin, and she longed to reach up and stroke that part of her shoulder he’d touched, but she managed to stifle the urge. Now wasn’t the time for lust. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was the time for, but lust was clearly out.

  He stood in front of her. Tall, proud. And his face was deadly serious. Whatever the truth was, she was about to hear it.

  “I’m a Protector. I guess you’d call me a superhero.”

  “Oh, come on, guys. You said you were going to tell me the truth.” They were going to drag this on all night.

  “He’s serious, Tracy,” Lane said. She nodded toward the chair. “Remember?”

  The chair had floated through the air, but one floating chair did not a superhero make.

  “Tracy,” Hale said. “I’m serious.” He looked her deep in the eyes. And then he was gone. Poof. Just like that.

  Jumping up out of her chair, she gaped, then just stood there shaking her head, feeling a bit like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz—complaining about the way people came and went so quickly.

  Pop! He was back. Standing right in front of her, as solid as a rock.

  “I really am a superhero.” He grinned. “I’ve been telling you that for days.”

  “You have,” she admitted. And, suddenly, as weird as it seemed, it all fit.

  She sank back into her chair. Figures. If she’d thought he was inaccessible as a cover model, now his no-chance-in-hell-of-a-long-term-commitment factor had just increased exponentially. The man was a superhero. A living, breathing superhero. Way, way, way out of her league.

  No wonder he’d decided he didn’t want her.

  Except Mordi seemed to think he did. She licked her lips, a glimmer of hope shining in her mind. She’d seen real desire in his eyes—at least last night. So, maybe there was some hope. Even if it was foolish, couldn’t she at least cling to that?

  She tilted her head and met his eyes. “A superhero, huh? So are you all superheroes? Have I wandered into the middle of a Superfriends cartoon?”

  “Not exactly,” Hale said. Then he fell silent.

  “So how does this superhero thing work? You have powers?”

  Hale nodded.

  Tracy turned to Lane. “How about you? What powers do you have?”

  Lane just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. The only power I have is the ability to entertain a five-year-old while cooking spaghetti. It’s not much, but occasionally it’s useful.”

  “It’s just Zoe and Hale,” Hoop said, a grin dancing on his lips. “They’re the only superfreaks we got.” He started humming the old ’80s tune.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Uh, hello?” Mordi leaned forward on the couch to glare at Hoop. “What am I? Invisible?”

  “No,” Hoop said. “That’s Hale.”

  “I take it you’re a superhero, too,” Tracy asked, turning to Mordi.

  “If they are, I am.”

  Tracy turned to Zoe. “So, if Hale can turn invisible and Mordi can do stuff with fire what can you do?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Not much.”

  “Yeah, right,” Deena said. “Keep an eye on her. If she takes off those glasses, she could tell you what color underwear you’re wearing.”

  “Yes,” Zoe said, her voice exasperated. “But I wouldn’t.”

  “ Yeah, but that’s not the point,” Deena countered. “She asked what you could do, and you can—”

  “I’ve got it.” Tracy held up a hand, then stood up herself, pacing as she tried to harness her new nervous energy. “Wow.” She was still trying to process the information. Frankly, she thought she was doing a damn good job, considering that before this, the last really amazing thing that had been dumped in her lap was Walter walking away four years ago. “I guess you really were telling me the truth.”

  Hale lifted a shoulder. “Technically. But I didn’t want you to know. I thought I could complete my mission without you finding out.”

  “Your mission. Tell me about that.”

  “Protect you. Recover the belt.”

  “A little more detail would be nice. Like, who are you protecting me from, and why do you need to recover a belt my grandmother’s had since she was young?”

  “I told you. It’s an artifact.”

  Mordi snorted.

  “I think your cousin believes there’s more,” Tracy said.

  “It’s an artifact that his father wants to get his hands on,” Hale added, scowling at Mordi. His cousin just shrugged and flicked a piece of lint off his tailored slacks.

  “And you were protecting me because...” Tracy prompted.

  “Because my father tends to get what he wants,” Mordi put in. “That’s just the kind of guy he is.”

  “I take it he’s not one of the good guys?”

  “Hieronymous definitely ranks among the bad guys,” Hale agreed.

  Mordi crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

  “Okay. So you came here to protect me so this Heromynus guy—”

  “Hieronymous.”

  “Whatever. So he won’t get my grandmother’s belt.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, why does he want it in the first place? Deena’s right. It’s not exactly fashionable, and if it’s magic, it doesn’t seem to be too powerful. I mean, my life’s been a bit odd since I found it, but most of that can
probably be attributed to all you guys following me around. Well, mostly.”

  They all exchanged glances, and Tracy sighed. “Enough with the secret looks, okay? Just tell me.” She held up a hand. “No, let me guess. It makes the wearer irresistible.”

  Hale frowned. “Pretty close. Are you familiar at all with mythology?”

  Tracy’s head was spinning already, but she decided to ignore it. “Some. Why?”

  “How about Aphrodite?”

  “Sure. Goddess of love. Something about being naked in a giant seashell.”

  “Well, I’m not sure about the seashell,” Hale said, “but she was Zoe’s and my great-great-great-and-then-some grandmother.”

  “Oh.” Tracy blinked. “Well, sure she was. I mean, why be superheroes if you can be gods and goddesses.”

  “Oh,” Deena piped in. “That was just their cover story.”

  Tracy had no idea how to respond to that. “Cover story?”

  “Yeah. See, those old Greeks weren’t really gods and goddesses, they were just this other... well... race, I guess. And since they could talk to animals—”

  Tracy turned to Hale, who nodded.

  “—and turn into animals, and see through things, and all sorts of other stuff, we humans all just took them for gods and goddesses.” Deena turned to Zoe. “Right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “The point,” Hale said, “is that Aphrodite had a belt. Mythology calls it Aphrodite’s girdle, and it’s real.”

  “This belt.” Tracy held it up. “So, what’s it do?” She faced each of them in turn.

  Finally, Mordi spoke. “Like you said. It makes the wearer irresistible to whomever he or she desires. And it makes it so that she gets whatever she wants.”

  “Oh.” Well, that certainly explained a lot. No wonder lamebrain Leon and all those others had been so friendly.

  “But why would this evil Herobidons guy want it? Is his love life in shambles?”

  “On a Protector, it’s different,” Mordi said.

  “It’s not a question of who the wearer desires,” Hale added. “It’s everyone. Everyone—Protectors, mortals, everyone—would bend to his will.”

  “Oh.” That sounded pretty bad.

  “He wants to take over the world,” Deena said. She shot an enigmatic look Mordi’s direction. “Zoe had a little tussle with him last year. Not a nice guy. Delusions of grandeur. A real nutcase.”

  Tracy was confused. “But if y’all are these super dudes, why hasn’t he popped in and just taken it? I mean, I appreciate the protection and all, but surely he could have managed to get the belt from me by now.”

  “He can’t steal it,” Mordi explained. “The Protector who steals it, loses his powers.” He shrugged. “And he can’t kill you.”

  Tracy’s knees went weak. That particular possibility hadn’t occurred to her. “Uh, why not?”

  “If you die wearing the belt; its characteristics die with you. It becomes nothing more than a piece of old junk.”

  “But those muggers...”

  “Trying to get it from you,” Hale said. “Hieronymous can’t steal it, but he can receive stolen property from those minions without losing his powers.” He shrugged. “Or, you can give it to someone. But except for those options, there’s not a lot Hieronymous can do.”

  “Oh.” She was beginning to feel like her vocabulary had shrunk to that one word. And then, in a flash of inspiration, it all made sense. Turning to Hale, she gnawed on her lower lip, sure she’d realized the truth, though not really wanting to face it. “That’s why you’re here. Not just to protect me, but to try and get the belt from me. That’s why you kept asking about it.” Her eyes scanned the room. “And the rest of you, too.”

  Hale’s eyes closed, and when he opened them again, she knew she was right. “Yes. I’m sorry, Tracy. It’s my job. I came here hoping to convince you to give me the belt. It needs to be turned over to the Council where it can be safe. Protected from Hieronymous. Not a danger to anybody—least of all you.”

  His words sunk in as she realized one more horrific implication. She’d been wearing the belt all this time. When he’d helped her with those first muggers. And she’d been wearing it again at the mall. But she hadn’t been wearing it this morning; and it was this morning that Hale had turned cold and distant.

  With her hand over her mouth, she stifled the urge to be sick. Instead, she took a deep breath. After all, she had to know. “So that’s what it was, then.” She gestured between the two of them. “You. Me. It was all the belt. Nothing real.” She blinked back tears as a cold darkness settled over her. “Nothing real at all.” Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes. “I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t really feel anything for me. It’s just the belt. I wanted you, and so you wanted me.” She felt so silly, so humiliated.

  He didn’t say anything, and she saw the way his fingers dug into the armrest of the sofa.

  “Hale, please. I need to know the truth.”

  After an eternity, of minutes, he nodded. “I’m sorry, Tracy. I do like you. But anything more than that … Well, the belt’s magic is pretty damn potent.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  * * *

  HALE FELT ABOUT two inches tall. And not just because Zoe and Lane were shooting him the evil eye. Heck, even Mordi was looking at him like he was a lunatic.

  Zoe opened her mouth. “Hale—”

  He held up a hand, cutting her off before she could say anything else. “She deserves the truth, Zoe.” Tracy did deserve the truth, but that didn’t mean he could face it. To save himself, he had to tell her a lie.

  His sister took a deep breath, and for a minute, Hale was sure she was going to tell Tracy the truth. But then Zoe pressed her lips tight together, her eyes cold and angry.

  Hale quashed another wave of guilt. He’d done what he needed to do. What else could he say? That the belt didn’t affect Protectors and that, yes, he was truly infatuated with her?

  Why in Hades would he put his heart on the line like that for something that wouldn’t—that couldn’t—last. He and Tracy came from two different worlds. And it was a fact of life that only a rare few mortals could handle the stress that came with being with a Protector. Maybe Tracy was one of the few. Hale didn’t know. But it wasn’t a risk he intended to take.

  Besides, he didn’t want to be tied down to anyone, right? Why would he get himself in a position where he would be expected to have a real relationship? He was young. He was good-looking. And he could have his pick of women.

  A little voice in the back of his mind pointed out that he’d already picked Tracy, but he shouted the voice into submission.

  All in all, a little white lie was best. For him, and for Tracy.

  None of which changed the fact that he felt like an absolute heel.

  I can’t believe you’re just going to —

  He turned to glare at Elmer, and the little guy clamped his jaw tight. He’d already lectured himself; he didn’t need a ferret doing it for him.

  When he looked back to Tracy, her lips were tight and colorless. She blinked, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and he fought the urge to take her into his arms and tell her the truth. To recant.

  No. He’d done the right thing—was doing the right thing—for himself, and for Tracy. He needed to believe that, needed to hold onto it tight.

  “Well,” she finally said. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Tracy—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She smiled at him, the smile of a stranger. “It all makes perfect sense.” She wiped her palms on her skirt and stood up, then started pacing. “So what now? Elmer’s still in the show, right? So I’ll be seeing you next week.”

  “And I’m still moving in,” he said.

  She looked at him as if he had two heads. “Excuse me? I don’t think so.”

  “I’m afraid so.” No way was he leaving her on her own. “Unless you want to give me the belt right now, I’m sticking around to protect
you. And yes, he’s still in the show, which means we need to work on training Elmer.”

  At his name, Elmer’s head popped up. If you even think about taking me off that show... This is my big break, after all!

  “You son of a—” She slammed her palms against the back of her chair. “You dump all this on me, tell me you don’t even care for me, then say you’re still moving in? I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe we should go work on cleaning the rest of the house,” Zoe said. At Tracy’s look of surprise she added, “Oh. I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Hieronymous sent some guys to trash this place. But don’t worry. We’re almost done putting it all back.” While Tracy blinked, Zoe stood up, and the whole gang followed, each of them—especially Mordi—looking relieved to escape. Everyone except for Elmer and Missy, who remained put on the sofa and the floor, respectively.

  Hale caught the dog’s eye, but she just bared her teeth, then turned her big, brown eyes to Tracy. He sighed. So much for any friendship between them.

  Now that he was alone with Tracy, it was everything he could do not to go to her, not to put his arms around her and tell her how sorry he was. He hated to see anyone hurting—hated it—and yet he’d just hurt Tracy more than that creep Leon ever had.

  “I’m staying, Tracy,” he said. “Whether you believe it or not, I do care about you. Just not that way. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He looked her in the eye. “Unless, of course, you give me the belt. Then Hieronymous will stop bothering you and I can go.”

  “You’re just like Leon, you know that?” she spat.

  Hale cringed, but he didn’t argue. At the moment, he felt about as low as that little worm. “If you want me gone, Trace, just give me the belt,” he repeated.

  “No.”

  “Then, I’m staying.”

  “No, you’re not. It’s my house.”

  “How are you going to stop me? The police?” He turned invisible, and she gasped. “They’ll never find me.”

  She opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. Instead, a single tear rolled down her cheek.