"Aphrodite's_Passion_030" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_02]_-_Aphrodite's_Passion_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file...)

Chapter Twenty-seven

“She’s a lovely little thing, don’t you think?” Hieronymous stroked Tracy’s cheek, and the girl flinched, turning her face as if she wanted nothing more than to melt into the damp stone walls to which she was bound.
Mordi grunted in agreement, wishing he could crawl under one of the stones in the floor.
The prison room in this faux castle was simple. A single window high above the Pacific. Four walls, each lined with permanently affixed manacles. One door, laden with heavy, unpickable locks. One chair, upholstered in red velvet, for Hieronymous. And one ratty mattress stretched out on the floor for those instances when Hieronymous’s softer side was touched and his prisoner was allowed a bit of shut-eye.
The castle was definitely not Metropolitan Home but it was surprisingly functional for having been built as a movie set. Apparently, the movie mogul who’d built the place years ago had a passion for swashbuckler movies. He’d built the thing, filmed a few movies, then converted it to his house and the backlot to his own private playground after his company had gone belly-up.
Hieronymous—or one of his companies, rather—had picked the place up for a song.
Despite having been built by an eccentric millionaire with a love of castles, there were still modern touches. The cameras, for example, that hung in every corner of the room. Eventually, the technophilic Hieronymous intended to wire the entire castle. Right now, only this chamber had been rigged. The alcove beyond the door and the rest of the castle were still technologically challenged.
Mordi fought the urge to unbind Tracy and to rush her out past his father. But that wouldn’t help her or him. He had a role, he’d chosen his path, and now he needed to play his part.
“We’re so pleased to have you as our first guest,” Hieronymous said. He turned to Mordi. “Aren’t we, son?”
“Thrilled.”
“First guest?” Tracy snapped. “You might want to consider better accommodations before throwing any house parties. And if I were you, I’d seriously consider hiring a decorator.”
Hieronymous scowled and took a step back.
Mordi faked a yawn, using his hand to hide his grin. Thank Hera, Tracy’s spunk hadn’t left her. She’d need it for dealing with his father. And with Clyde.
“Comments like that aren’t good for your health.” Speak of the devil. Daddy Dearest’s number-one minion, Clyde the Creep, stepped into the chamber. “I looked for years to find just the perfect place.”
“If you’re into creepy-crawlies. Sure. It’s perfect.”
Clyde took a menacing step toward her, but Hieronymous held up a hand, stopping him. “Clyde, please. There’s no need to intimidate our guest.” He tilted his head, clearly inspecting her from toes to hair. “For that matter, you must be uncomfortable.”
He spoke as if she were simply sitting on an extremely hard chair, rather than being stretched so tight that she balanced on her tiptoes with her wrists far above her head.
“Mordi, there’s no reason for Tracy to be bound. She’s our guest after all. Let her down.”
Mordichai nodded, then slipped the key from his pocket. He moved slowly, as if he wasn’t in any hurry to help her out, then started to fumble with the lock at her wrist. “Just stay calm,” he whispered, hoping his father couldn’t hear him. “Stay calm and it will all be over soon.”
If he’d hoped for some sense of connection between them, he was sorely disappointed. The look she aimed at him was scathing, and full of hurt, and once again Mordi cursed the birthright that had led him to this situation.
As soon as she was released, Tracy sank to the floor, then crawled to the mattress and started massaging her wrists. “What do you want with me?” She aimed the question directly at Hieronymous, and Mordi was impressed that she looked him in the eye.
“What do I want? Well, my dear, I think it’s obvious. I want the belt.”
“I—”
“Come, come. Hale and Zoë have been putting nasty thoughts into your head. There’s a bit of a family feud, I’ll admit, but I’m really not such a bad guy.” He turned to Clyde. “The tray, please.”
Clyde passed a silver tray, covered with a silver dome lid. Hieronymous pulled the lid off, revealing a sumptuous turkey dinner, complete with gravy, dressing, and cranberry sauce.
Tracy’s eyebrows went up, but she didn’t say anything.
He put the tray in her hands. “It’s Thanksgiving, my dear. Do what I ask, and you won’t believe the blessings that will be heaped upon you.”
“In other words, give you the belt, and I’ll be treated differently than all the other mortals you’re planning to enslave.”
“But of course. Concessions can always be made.”
She licked her lips, her eyes darting down to the food. “I see. And you want...”
“Simply the belt, of course. Such a small thing, really.”
“Right.” She licked her lips, then nodded at the food. “May I?”
“Certainly, my dear. I didn’t bring it in just to torture you.”
There wasn’t a fork or a knife on the tray, but Tracy didn’t hesitate. She reached for the stuffing, got a few fingersful, then lifted it to her mouth. Mordi held his breath, wondering if she was truly going to accept food from his father.
He should have known better, of course. Tracy apparently had the backbone he’d lacked his entire life. In one quick movement, she flipped her hand around, flinging the stuffing onto Hieronymous’s face.
“Oops,” she said. “Looks like it got away from me.”
Mordi’s father leapt to his feet, his cloak swirling about him. “That was a stupid thing to do.” His words were measured, harsh, and Mordi cringed. He knew that tone.
Tracy managed to hold her own. “What was stupid was kidnapping me. Hale will save me, you know.”
“Will he? He’ll have to find you first, and don’t think that will be an easy chore.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not getting the belt.”
“We’ll see about that.” He turned to Clyde. “Confine her again.”
Tracy struggled, but in the end, she was no match for Clyde. In no time, he had her pinned to the wall.
Hieronymous turned to Mordi. “Open the trapdoor and let Harry in.”
Mordi nodded, not wanting to, but helpless to resist his father’s command. Bending over, he tugged at the thick metal ring on the floor until the heavy wooden door opened and Harry—Hieronymous’s favorite Henchman— popped into the room.
“The belt,” Hieronymous said, pointing to Tracy. “Separate the young lady from the belt.”
Harry slithered over, his slimy body leaving a wet imprint on the floor. When he reached Tracy, he grasped her around the waist, his tentacles fondling the belt as Tracy struggled uselessly against her bonds. Tears streamed down her face, and Mordi had to force himself to stay put, to not lunge forward and grab the belt the second it fell from Tracy’s waist.
Except it wasn’t falling. It wasn’t budging at all.
“Get... the ... belt.” Tight fury laced Hieronymous’s voice.
“Can’t get. Itsa not coming.”
“Fool!” Mordi’s father’s arm shot out, striking Harry’s head with a resounding squish and propelling the Henchman out the window. Silence. Then ker-plop as his doughy, squid-like body hit the ocean below. Mordi had no idea why Harry hadn’t been able to take the belt, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the belt was still tight around Tracy’s waist... and Hieronymous was pissed.
Tracy cringed, her eyes darting between Clyde and Hieronymous as she gnawed on her lower lip.
Hieronymous just stood there, staring at Tracy, his face expressionless. Then he smiled, and Mordi went cold. “Apparently I won’t be acquiring the belt through one of my Henchmen. Too bad, too. It would have been so much more pleasant for you.”
Tracy liked her lips. “What do you mean?”
“It looks like I have only one choice,” he said, picking the tray up from the floor. Hieronymous leaned closer, his nose almost touching Tracy’s. She managed to hold his gaze, but her deathly pale skin revealed just how scared she was.
“What?” Her question, barely voiced, drifted to Mordi.
“I should think it’s obvious. Clearly, I’m going to have to persuade you to give it to me.” The leader of the Outcasts’s smile turned ice cold, and Mordi shuddered. “I wonder if three or four days without food won’t make you more cognizant of the joys of sharing.”
Mordi shuddered.



“A castle? South of Santa Monica?” Hale stared at the computer screen, unable to believe what he was seeing. “What in the name of Hades is Clyde doing with a castle?”
They were sitting in Tracy’s kitchen working from Hale’s laptop, and now Zoë slid her chair over to look around his shoulder and read the e-mail from Zephron aloud. “Council intelligence has determined that Clyde, a known Hieronymous associate and Outcast, recently inspected for the purpose of purchasing an abandoned movie set, including functional castle. Intended use is as yet undetermined.” She turned to face Hale. “What intelligence? Who’s this from?”
“Does it matter? It’s the best lead we have.” He stood up, pulling his Council pack off the table. They’d been trying to find Tracy all night, had called Zephron, and this was the first break they’d gotten.
“I’m going with you,” Zoë said.
“No. It might be a trap. I want you to wait here. Call Zephron. Let him know I may need backup. And if I don’t report back in an hour, you know the drill.” He kissed his sister’s cheek, then caught her eye. “If something happens to me, you may have to rescue her on your own.” He couldn’t even bring himself to voice the possibility that something might happen to Tracy.
Zoë put her hand on his arm. “She’ll be all right.”
“What if she’s not? I never even told her I love her.” He shook his head. “Well, I did. And then I told her it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t enough.” Closing his eyes, he drew in a strangled breath. “Not enough? Hell, it’s everything.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell her.”
“That’s my plan.”
Within seconds, he’d put on his cloak and was racing down the Pacific Coast Highway. On any normal day, it would be a pleasant flight. Invigorating, even. But today— this morning—all he could think about was Tracy. He’d been a fool. And now his foolishness was coming back to haunt him in the most horrible of ways.
He’d been afraid to care, afraid she’d leave. But deep in his heart, he now believed she wouldn’t. And he had for some time, even though he hadn’t let himself believe it. She loved him as much as he loved her. He wouldn’t go anywhere, so why assume she would?
Because he’d been looking for an excuse, that’s why. Any excuse to insulate himself from the very terror he was feeling right now—that the mortal he loved might be taken or harmed or used as bait. But he’d been stupid. Shortsighted. He’d turned Tracy away, and still she wasn’t safe. She could never be perfectly safe. Because as long as he loved her, she’d always be vulnerable. And so would his heart.
Together, they could lean on each other.
He wanted many, many years of leaning.
He could only hope that, after being kidnapped by Hieronymous and held prisoner in a castle, she wouldn’t want to wash her hands of him altogether. After all, she might blame him, blame him for this terrible world he’d brought into her life. Somehow, though, deep in his heart, he knew she wouldn’t. No matter what she went through, she loved him. And she’d stay with him, forever. She’d been trying to explain that to him.
He had no idea who the Council’s spy on Hieronymous’s turf was, but he said a silent thank-you. Without him, Hale might have found Tracy too late.
Of course he hadn’t found her yet, but something told him he was on the right track. Especially when the castle came into view. Elegant but dilapidated, it seemed perfectly suited to his uncle Hieronymous.
This had to be it. Tracy was in there somewhere. He didn’t know where to look, but he’d find her. Considering how many times he’d dressed up as the castle laird for a romance novel, it seemed somehow appropriate that this should be the site of his rescue of Tracy. For, even if he had to comb every square inch from the dungeon to the tower, Hale intended to find her.



The sun was high in the sky, but Tracy couldn’t control her shivering. Hunger, terror, and exhaustion were all taking their toll, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But sleep was an impossibility and lying down was even less feasible. She was pinioned upright to a cold, stone wall.
Even now, she couldn’t believe she was trapped in some European castle, but that sure seemed to be the situation. Mordi had blindfolded her for the journey, and she could no longer see out the window, so she didn’t know where exactly she was, but she’d bet Scotland. Not that it mattered. Wherever she was, she was in trouble.
She’d read more than her share of romance novels set in Scottish castles. Surely one had a scene where the heroine broke free of manacles. But darned if she could think of one.
Not that she’d had any opportunity to try to escape. She’d been kept under constant surveillance by Hieronymous and his minions since she got here.
She still couldn’t believe she’d misjudged Mordi. He’d seemed to sincerely want to help her and Hale. Finding out that he was nothing more than a Hieronymous flunkie had certainly been a major letdown.
“Master. Our little problem has arrived.”
Little problem? That had to be Hale. Tracy tried hard to keep the smile from her face.
“Don’t count your chickens yet, my dear,” Hieronymous snapped. “I assure you Clyde is more than capable of ridding the castle of my silly nephew.”
Apparently, she hadn’t managed to keep that smile under wraps after all.
“I, however, must be running along.” Hieronymous reached out and took her hand, then raised it to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. Tracy bit back a wave of revulsion as he leaned close and whispered, “You see, I must maintain no connection to this place. If anyone asks, I will simply have been in my Manhattan hideaway, unaware of what my son and Clyde were doing to you poor, defenseless little mortal.”
“I’ll be more than happy to clue them in.”
He laughed, then patted her cheek. “You do that, my dear. And while they might believe you, they won’t be able to raise a hand against me. You see, even though your beloved Hale’s Council seems to have such love of you mortals, you can’t testify against a Protector. Not even against an Outcast. I’m afraid, my dear, that their laws protect me. I’ll be back once this situation is... handled.” He smiled then, and, ridiculously, Mack the Knife started running through her head: And he keeps them, pearly white.
Dear Lord, she must be hysterical.
She tried to think of something else to say, something to stop him, to keep him there until Hale found her. But there were no words, and soon he disappeared, flying out the window, his cloak flapping behind him until he was little more than a pinpoint in the sky.
Clyde glowered at her from the corner, and Tracy shivered again. She turned to Mordi, who was closer.
“Why did your father say that Hale was no match for Clyde?”
“Every Protector has powers. Clyde has all the innate Protector skills—speed, strength, agility—but they’re enhanced.”
“Oh.”
Mordi looked unhappy. “In other words, Clyde could probably cream us all.”
“Oh,” she repeated. She glanced at Clyde and smiled weakly. He didn’t smile back. “Great.”
“Tracy!” someone called.
Hale! His voice far away, but clearly in the castle.
“I’m up here,” she shouted. “Somewhere in the tower. But be careful.”
“Is Mordi with you?”
“Yes,” she yelled back, glaring at Mordi. He didn’t try to stop her. “And someone named Clyde.” She glanced over. The Outcast appeared amused by Hale’s plan of attack.
“Are you okay?” His voice was getting closer.
“I’m fine. For now. Please. Be careful.” She’d never chewed on her fingernails, but at the moment, she wished she could rip a hand free from the manacles and have a nibble.
Hurried footsteps. Closer, then closer still.
“Did they get the belt?”
“No. They tried using a Henchman. It won’t come off. I might as well be wearing ruby slippers.” She laughed. Not that anything was funny, but considering she’d been yanked from her house, flown to Scotland, and tortured by a demented ex-superhero, a few hysterics were probably in order. “It’s still firmly around my waist.”
“I’ll have you and your waist out of here in no time.” His voice was just beyond the threshold.
Clyde moved toward the door.
“No,” Mordi said. He turned to look up, facing the cameras in the corners. “Hale and I have a history. I get the first shot at him.”
A thin grin spread across Clyde’s face. “You think that you—a mere halfling—can best Hale?”
“I think I can, yes.”
“As you wish.” Disdain dripped from his voice, and Tracy made a mental note to ask Hale what was going on between those two. Assuming he got her out of here, of course.
The door burst open. Tracy held her breath, expecting Hale to burst through, too. Instead ... nothing.
She frowned.
Then Mordi keeled over, clutching his stomach in pain.
“Hale!” She wanted to clap, but her manacled hands prevented it. Instead, she wriggled with pleasure. Hale would get her out of here. He’d save her. She had no doubt at all.
His disembodied voice drifted toward her. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?”
Mordi tried to straighten up, then collapsed as something knocked out his knees from behind. Clyde watched, amused, from the side.
“A lot better now that you’re here,” she answered.
“When this is over, we need to talk.”
“Yeah?” She liked the sound of that.
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
Mordi was standing back up again, and once more, down he went.
Tracy stifled a giggle, suddenly in a remarkably chipper mood.
“About the fact that I love you.” Hale’s words zinged straight to her heart. “And I’ve been an idiot.”
“Yes, you have,” Mordi said. This time when he stood up, he focused on Hale’s voice. “You haven’t been playing fair,” he said, launching himself at the other Protector.
“Hale!” Tracy cried.
“I’m okay, babe. Mordi and I have been down this road before. I always win.”
“Not this time,” Mordi grunted.
Tracy struggled, a little whine growing in her throat, but her manacles held fast. She wasn’t going anywhere. Damn.
Clyde had kicked back in the chair and seemed to be enjoying the show. All he seemed to need was a bucket of popcorn.
Somehow, Mordi managed to get Hale around the... neck? He tumbled to the ground, holding on, and over and over he rolled until he actually reached the threshold and tumbled out of the room. Tracy could hear him and Hale struggling, but, try as she might, she couldn’t see a thing. Which meant that she could only hold her breath and hope that the man who eventually came back into the room was the one she loved. Hale. She looked over at Clyde. It looked like he was thinking the same thing.



“You conniving little twit,” Hale yelled, slamming his fist again into Mordi’s gut. They’d grown up together, and Hale was certain of winning. Beating Mordi on the field of battle wasn’t any trick at all.
Clyde, though ... Clyde was a completely different story.
Mordi rolled, trying to avoid Hale’s kicks and punches while he held on. His efforts rolled them into the far corners of the hallway outside Tracy’s cell.
“I had no choice,” Mordi gasped out.
Hale broke free and turned visible. “Sweet Hera, you’re a cool liar. I was actually beginning to believe you’d changed. I even thought you liked Tracy.”
“I do,” Mordi hissed. “Will you listen to me?”
Hale wasn’t having any of it. Once again, he threw himself forward. The two Protectors both struck the wall, the force of their impact knocking several stones loose.
“Dammit, Hale, I need to tell you something.” Hale ignored his cousin, gripping Mordi by his neck until the little viper’s next words were little more than a squeak. “Why do you think I got us out here?”
“You’ve put me and the woman I love in danger. Why in Hades should I let you say anything?”
“Because there aren’t any cameras out here in the alcove,” Mordi gasped, his voice little more than a whisper. “My father can’t see a thing.”
It wasn’t at all the response Hale was expecting. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Mordi opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a wheeze.
Hale pinned him down, using both arms to press Mordi’s shoulders to the wall, and his knee to keep firm pressure on his gut. “Talk.”
“Keep your voice down,” Mordi said, “I don’t know how sensitive the mikes are in Tracy’s room.”
“If you don’t start talking now, you’re never going to know anything about anything,” Hale said, increasing the pressure with his knee. But even so, he spoke in a whisper. This might be a trap, but the crafty little bastard had caught his attention.
“Who the hell do you think sent Zephron the location of this castle? Who do you think is spying on Hieronymous from the inside?”
“You?” Hale shook his head. “I’m not buying it, Mordi. I know what you’ve done, remember? I watched you help your father try to take over the world and battle Zoë. You stole Tracy. I think I know you well enough to know what to believe.”
“I had hoped that you did.” This time, Mordi sounded cool and collected, and for an instant, Hale’s resolve cracked. “Throw us against the next wall,” he said.
“What?”
“Clyde. We need to sound like we’re fighting. Throw us against the next wall.”
Hale shrugged, then, keeping a grip on Mordi, lunged across the room. It sent a few more rocks clattering to the floor as Mordi’s back impacted on the stone.
“You could be a little more gentle,” Mordi hissed.
“You’re on Probation,” Hale said, reminding himself why he couldn’t trust his cousin. “There’s a reason for that. You have a little difficulty distinguishing the good guys from the bad guys.”
“I am one of the good guys. I was going to recover the belt for the Council. Me. For once in my life I was going to manage to do something the great Hale couldn’t do. And do it by using my father.”
Hale swallowed. This was starting to sound more like the cousin he knew. “Why the hell should I believe you?”
Mordi tilted his head up, and Hale saw the intensity reflected in those vivid green eyes. “Do you think I like being on Probation? Being tested over and over again like my loyalty is in question?”
“Your loyalty is in question.” Hale kicked a few rocks down the stairs. On the off chance Mordi was telling the truth, he didn’t want Clyde’s suspicions raised. Not that Clyde was the brightest bulb, but still.
“I also considered keeping it for myself,” Mordi admitted, not meeting Hale’s eyes.
“The belt?”
A single nod. “My father thought I was getting it for him. Zephron thought I was simply a mole in my father’s organization.” A smile touched his lips. “At first I merely wanted to show you up. Me. Mordichai. Hieronymous’s son. I wanted to be the one to return the belt to the Council. But then—”
“You thought you’d just keep it and have a run at world domination yourself.”
“Why not? It’s better than being on Probation the rest of my life.”
“That’s exactly why you are on Probation.”
Mordi sighed. “Don’t I know it.” Another intense gaze. “But I didn’t try to keep it. I sent that message.”
“You also kidnapped Tracy.”
“I had to. If I hadn’t, I would have lost my usefulness as a mole. If there’s one thing my father is not, it’s stupid.” He took a deep breath. “I’m the one who got you here. So you could save Tracy and the belt. I don’t have a chance in Hades against Clyde.” He shrugged. “Hell, maybe neither do you, for that matter.”
“Okay. Help me. If you’re really on my side, help me defeat Clyde.”
“No can do, cousin.”
Hale felt annoyed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Think, Hale. If I fight Clyde, my cover’s blown. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Convenient,” Hale said. He just couldn’t bring himself to trust his cousin.
“Dammit, Hale. What do I have to do to convince you?”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. You’ve cried wolf just a little too often.”
Mordi closed his eyes. “Then so be it.” Twisting violently to the right, he managed to free himself from Hale’s grip.
Hale cursed. He’d let his hold go slack as he listened to Mordi’s absurd story. Even more absurdly, he’d actually been wanting to believe his cousin. Now, Mordi was showing his true colors.
Mordi bounded back, on guard just at the edge of the stairs.
“I don’t want to fight you, Cousin,” Hale said. “Just leave. Leave, and we’ll deal with this another day.”
“No,” Mordi said.
“Then you’ve made your decision.” Hale moved forward, but as he did, a ball of fire bloomed in Mordi’s hand. Real fire, not the fake kind his cousin often summoned. Hale hesitated. He could defeat Mordi—even with fire—but that made it more difficult. And he still had Clyde to confront. The Outcast was in the cell with Tracy.
Thinking of Tracy, Hale realized he needed to just go for it. He rushed forward, planning to fall into a roll as soon as Mordi pitched the fireball. Mordi tossed. Hale crouched, rolling on the floor, but as he did he realized that the fireball had been thrown clear. It burst into a flurry of sparks on the far side of the room.
Mordi hadn’t even aimed at him....
Had he been telling the truth after all? There wasn’t time to think about it now. And he could never be completely certain.
“I’m sorry,” Hale said, pulling his fist back. With all of his strength, he let fly. Mordi didn’t even raise a hand in defense. Only when his cousin fell to the ground unconscious did Hale decide that maybe Mordi had been telling the truth after all.



That creep Clyde looked all too comfortable in that upholstered red chair. Especially since Tracy was so decidedly uncomfortable in her current position. She strained sideways, trying to see something—anything—through the doorway.
Nothing.
And then she saw a burst of flame as a fireball exploded.
She held her breath. Mordi conjured fire. Did that mean he’d hit Hale? Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer. Please, no. She’d just gotten him again. She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.
The silence in the castle was deafening. There was nothing in the room except the scrape of her manacles against the wall and the sound of Clyde’s breathing. Nothing in the alcove—just a terrifying silence that sank in her stomach like a rock.
The sound of her breathing grated against her ears, and now her heartbeat seemed to echo through the room. Where was he? Her skin felt cold and clammy, and she wondered if she was in shock.
“It sounds like your little hero isn’t so much of a hero after all,” Clyde sneered, drumming his fingers on his chair’s wooden armrest.
She writhed against her manacles, wishing more than anything she could get her fingers around his neck. “He’ll win.”
“The silence would suggest otherwise. I admit I’m surprised. I certainly didn’t think Mordichai could defeat an accomplished Protector like your Hale. But it sounds like he did just that.” An awful, wide sneer crossed the thug’s face. “Of course, it doesn’t sound like he made it, either.” Clyde shrugged. “Pity.”
“Hale is fine. You’ll see. He’ll wipe that sneer off your face.”
“You have quite a mouth, young lady.” Clyde looked at his watch. “We’ll see how enthusiastic you are after a few more days with no food or water.”
Tracy swallowed. Already her mouth was parched. In a few days without water, she’d likely be unconscious. Or dead.
Suddenly, his chair lifted into the air, and the look of confused surprise on Clyde’s face almost made this whole terrible encounter worthwhile. Almost.
The chair hung there for a moment, then whizzed across the room, landing with a crash on the opposite wall. It shattered, and Clyde tumbled to the ground in a flurry of black cape and leather shoes. When he looked up, an expression of astounded horror lined his face.
“Ha!” Tracy yelled. “I told you.”
Clyde climbed to his knees. “Where are you, you invisible coward?”
No answer.
Tracy scanned the room, looking for some inkling of Hale’s whereabouts. Nothing.
Clyde twirled around, his cape fluttering, as he tried to find Hale, too. From the frustrated look on his face, Tracy assumed he wasn’t having any better luck.
A stone on the floor rose and flew straight at Clyde. The Outcast jumped sideways, but not fast enough, and it struck the side of his body.
He spun around. “Show yourself, you miserable coward!”
“I’m right here, Clydie-boy.”
Hale, Tracy thought. His voice was so close to her. And then not just his voice, but the man himself. He materialized, leaning against the wall right next to her.
Tracy stifled a laugh. Like Clyde, she’d assumed he’d been invisible while lifting the chair and tossing the rock. He’d been invisible, all right. But he hadn’t lifted anything. He’d levitated the things while standing right next to her.
As Clyde scowled, Hale tilted his head back and looked at her. “Guess it’s time for me to do my job and rescue the fair princess from the tower.”
“Guess so.” Even under the circumstances, Tracy couldn’t keep the delighted smile off her lips.
“I love you,” he said.
Her smile grew even broader. “I know.” She nodded toward Clyde. “Now go beat the crap out of the bad guy.”



Damned inconvenient he had to fight Clyde. All Hale wanted to do was gather Tracy in his arms and make love to her.
It was even more inconvenient since the odds were definitely in Clyde’s favor. On pure strength alone, he was no match for the brute. Already he was exhausted from the trip here and the battle with Mordi. But his one advantage was his ability to turn invisible, and Hale intended to use it.
Clyde rushed forward. Hale dematerialized, but the other man still knocked him to the ground. Over and over they rolled, Clyde grappling with a foe he couldn’t see, but still managing to keep Hale’s legs pinned down.
Finally, Hale managed to get a single strike in—at Clyde’s nose. As the Outcast recoiled, Hale hopped to his feet. His enemy followed suit, half-crouching as he slowly turned, ready to defend himself wherever the attack might appear.
Seizing the advantage, Hale rushed Clyde when his back was turned. He threw the Outcast to the ground and got a lock around his neck. The brute gasped and wheezed as he stood, thrashing about with every ounce of his inordinate strength, but Hale hung on.
Clyde threw himself backward against the wall. Since Hale was clinging to his back, that meant Hale was squashed. He kicked, pressing his heel into Clyde’s groin until the creep gasped and lurched forward, releasing Hale from his trapped state.
Hale slid off, rolling sideways as silently as possible. Clyde again circled, once more trying to find him.
“I know you’re here, little man.” A singsong voice. “Come out and play.” A pause. “Or are you afraid the big, bad Outcast will beat you to a pulp?”
Hale kept his mouth shut, not intending to let Clyde bait him into revealing his whereabouts.
Another turn of the circle, then another. Finally, when Clyde’s rear end was right there, Hale shot his leg out, catching the burly Outcast at the base of the spine. The blow sent him tumbling.
Hale had expected Clyde would immediately hop back to his feet, but the other man surprised him, lying unmoving on the floor. Hale crept forward, peering down, trying to decide if the brute was playing dead.
No signs of life.
Silently, he leaned forward. Nothing. No movement. No breathing. Nothing. He kicked him. No movement.
That was easy! The big dumb Outcast would never stand for such treatment if he were awake.
Turning visible, he went to Tracy. “I can’t tell if he’s dead or just knocked out, but right now, I don’t care.” He took a step toward her. “Let’s get out of here and get that belt to the Council before he wakes up.”
She nodded, but the look of relief on her face faded as she went pale. She screamed, her body jerking futilely as she tried to point.
He whipped around. Visible, he was one heck of a big target. Ka-choing! Clyde sprang forward, his fist catching Hale in the throat.
Choking, Hale stumbled backward, the force of the blow knocking him partially through the stone outer wall of the castle. He pulled out, throwing himself at Clyde so that the two went tumbling, landing in a heap on the mattress under the window.
“You can’t win,” Clyde sneered. “You know I’m stronger. Compared to me, you’re practically a mortal.”
“And what the hell’s wrong with that?” Hale asked, his body energized by the fury that burned in his blood.
Clyde sneered. “Why, my boy, I thought if anyone knew, you did.”
Automatically, Hale’s eyes darted to Tracy. Tight and thin, her colorless lips revealed her worry. But her eyes met his, and in them he saw trust bloom.
“Sorry, Clyde. I can’t think of a thing.” In one swift motion, he raised his legs and pushed, catching his foe at the hips and off-balancing him. The Outcast stumbled backward, toward Tracy, and Hale silently willed her to understand.
Bless her heart, she did. As Clyde approached, she grabbed onto the chains above her hands, lifted her legs, and kicked for all she was worth.
Like a puck on an air-hockey table, Clyde was thrown back toward Hale. In a flash, Hale grabbed him by the shoulders, flipped him over, and sent him crashing through the too-small window.
Bits of rock and mortar went flying and, after a few seconds, a resounding splash echoed up from the ocean below.
Hale turned to Tracy. “That’s only temporary. He’ll be back soon.” He grinned, then held up Clyde’s propulsion cloak, which he’d held onto. “Of course, he won’t be back too soon.”
“What about Mordi?”
“He’s fine. Passed out, but fine. But he’s going to have a hell of a headache—and a heck of a lot of explaining to the Council and his father.” He kissed Tracy’s nose. “Not our problem. We need to go.”
“I’m all for getting the hell out of Dodge. I mean, I’ve always wanted to see Scotland, but this isn’t really what I had in mind.”
He headed toward her, ready to rip her free from the chains, when he realized what she’d said. “Scotland?”
“Well, yeah. I just assumed. Is this Ireland or England?”
He laughed. “Try Los Angeles, sweetheart. Clyde’s taking a swim in the cold waters of the Pacific.”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked somewhat disappointed. “No way. And here I thought I’d finally had the chance to be the heroine in one of your romance novels.”
Stifling a grin, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You are, Tracy. With the belt, without the belt, you’re the only woman for me. The only heroine for me. And I love you.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “The only one?”
Hale shrugged, embarrassed at how stupid he’d acted before. “Well, from here on out anyway. I can’t change the past, but I promise I won’t ever repeat it.”
A single tear trickled down Tracy’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I know.” He ripped the manacles open, freeing one of her wrists and then the other. “Time to fly back?”
She looked dazed. “Where?”
He kissed her on the nose, wanting to kiss her everywhere. But there was plenty of time for that later. “Our home. I just moved in, remember? You’re not getting rid of me this easily. In fact, I think I might be there to stay.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah. If you’ll have me.”
She beamed. “Let’s get home. The sooner the better.”
Hale hopped up to the window, then held out an arm for her, not feeling completely whole until he’d lifted her up and wrapped her in his embrace. “I hope you don’t mind flying economy,” he said.
“I think I can handle it.” She kissed his cheek. “Just one thing, though.” Reaching down she unhooked the belt, then pressed the cool metal into his hand. “We need to deliver this to your Council on the way.” Her smile went straight to his heart. “I don’t need it anymore.”



Tracy held on tight to Hale’s hand as they delivered Aphrodite’s girdle to Zephron. Any tighter, actually, and Hale would have wondered if she’d somehow absorbed a portion of his super strength. She might have spent her youth around celebrities, but apparently that didn’t mean Tracy was comfortable with superhero leaders—no matter how grandfatherly they might look.
“Thank you, Miss Tannin,” Zephron said with a smile. “I assure you, the Council will keep your grandmother’s belt safe.”
She exhaled, and Hale silently thanked Zephron for putting her at ease. “I know you will,” she said. “I’m just happy it’s away from the bad guys.” She frowned. “Speaking of...”
Zephron nodded. “Yes. Clyde and Mordichai.”
“What’s going to happen to them?” Tracy asked.
“Clyde has disappeared. We will find him, of course. The moment he uses his powers, we will be able to hone in on him.” Zephron shrugged. “And until then ... well, he’ll have a chance to see how mortals live.”
“What about Mordi?” Hale asked.
“Your cousin. That is trickier. Despite what he told you in the castle, we still do not know his true intentions. Did he intend to acquire the belt to return it to us? Was he truly working for his father? Or did our young Mordichai plan to use the belt for his own purposes?” The Elder shook his head. “We don’t know. But the Council is investigating.”
“He was kind to me,” Tracy put in. “He could have tried to drive a wedge between me and Hale, but instead he told me Hale cared about me.” That was news to Hale, and he silently thanked his cousin. “If he needs a character witness,” Tracy continued, “you can call me.”
Zephron smiled at her. “You are a special woman, Tracy Tannin. I hope you realize that.”
Tracy didn’t answer, but when Hale squeezed her hand, she squeezed back. Zephron was right, of course, and Hale intended to remind her how special she was every day for the rest of their lives.
The Elder turned to him. “And you, Hale. You are due to be congratulated for your successful mission.” A small smile twitched on his lips, and Hale had the impression that Zephron was holding something back. He’d thought that once before—the day the Elder had assigned him this mission. He hadn’t asked then, but now he needed to know. “What? Am I missing something?”
Zephron fingered the belt. “Let’s just say that I was certain you were the appropriate Protector to give this task.”
At that, Hale had to laugh. “I was the most inappropriate Protector. Heck, we’re lucky Hieronymous didn’t prevail. You sent me—a guy who had some pretty hefty mortal issues—on a mission to befriend a mortal.”
“Ah,” the old man said. “It’s even worse than that. I sent you to fall in love with a mortal.”
Hale blinked. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Zephron to say that. “Excuse me?”
Zephron looked at Tracy. “Do you understand?”
To Hale’s surprise, she nodded. “I think so. I figured it out in the castle.”
Hale gaped as he waited for her to continue.
“Not anyone could persuade me to give up the belt. Even torturing me wouldn’t do it, although I guess Hieronymous didn’t know that.” She licked her lips. “Aphrodite was the goddess of love. I was only going to give the belt up to someone I loved.”
Hale frowned, then looked to Zephron for confirmation. The Elder nodded.
“It all makes sense,” Tracy continued. “Although I didn’t realize it until that Henchman couldn’t get it off me but I could take it off to give to you. I’d wanted to give it to you earlier, in the hotel bar. Something held me back. I wasn’t in love with you yet.” She smiled. “I was close. But I wasn’t there yet.”
Hale looked at Zephron, his eyes wide. “Then, you knew I’d fall in love with Tracy? Or that she’d fall in love with me?”
The Elder shook his head. “No. I did not even know if that was how the belt truly worked. I told you, we did not have the full information. But I suspected. It was a risk, of course, sending you. Your ‘issues’ as you call them made you a questionable choice. But at the same time, I believed that you were ready to overcome them. You just needed the right woman. And I believed Ms. Tannin here not only had the belt, but was that woman.” He caught Hale’s eyes. “So I assigned you. And I hoped.”
“Hoped?” Tracy echoed.
“Yes, I admit to taking a risk.” He smiled at her, his eyes warm and caring. “Considering the outcome, it is a risk I’m glad I took.” His eyes moved between Hale and Tracy. “I wish you many happy years. Perhaps there will be a new hailing on the horizon soon....”
Children? Hale swallowed and tugged at his collar, the idea more appealing than he would have thought. And also more terrifying.
Tracy laughed and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you get used to the idea of being in love with a mortal before we start planning kids.”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t fall in love with a mortal. I fell in love with Tracy Tannin.” He stroked her cheek, imagining himself holding her child ... their child. He had to admit he liked the image.
Her smile zinged straight to his heart as she said: “And I didn’t fall in love with a superhero or a cover model. I fell in love with you.” Then she asked with a soft laugh, “So, do you think Elmer’s ready to be an uncle?”
Hale chuckled, hugging her close. “So long as he gets his vacation and occasional infusions of HBO, I think he’ll do just fine.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

“She’s a lovely little thing, don’t you think?” Hieronymous stroked Tracy’s cheek, and the girl flinched, turning her face as if she wanted nothing more than to melt into the damp stone walls to which she was bound.
Mordi grunted in agreement, wishing he could crawl under one of the stones in the floor.
The prison room in this faux castle was simple. A single window high above the Pacific. Four walls, each lined with permanently affixed manacles. One door, laden with heavy, unpickable locks. One chair, upholstered in red velvet, for Hieronymous. And one ratty mattress stretched out on the floor for those instances when Hieronymous’s softer side was touched and his prisoner was allowed a bit of shut-eye.
The castle was definitely not Metropolitan Home but it was surprisingly functional for having been built as a movie set. Apparently, the movie mogul who’d built the place years ago had a passion for swashbuckler movies. He’d built the thing, filmed a few movies, then converted it to his house and the backlot to his own private playground after his company had gone belly-up.
Hieronymous—or one of his companies, rather—had picked the place up for a song.
Despite having been built by an eccentric millionaire with a love of castles, there were still modern touches. The cameras, for example, that hung in every corner of the room. Eventually, the technophilic Hieronymous intended to wire the entire castle. Right now, only this chamber had been rigged. The alcove beyond the door and the rest of the castle were still technologically challenged.
Mordi fought the urge to unbind Tracy and to rush her out past his father. But that wouldn’t help her or him. He had a role, he’d chosen his path, and now he needed to play his part.
“We’re so pleased to have you as our first guest,” Hieronymous said. He turned to Mordi. “Aren’t we, son?”
“Thrilled.”
“First guest?” Tracy snapped. “You might want to consider better accommodations before throwing any house parties. And if I were you, I’d seriously consider hiring a decorator.”
Hieronymous scowled and took a step back.
Mordi faked a yawn, using his hand to hide his grin. Thank Hera, Tracy’s spunk hadn’t left her. She’d need it for dealing with his father. And with Clyde.
“Comments like that aren’t good for your health.” Speak of the devil. Daddy Dearest’s number-one minion, Clyde the Creep, stepped into the chamber. “I looked for years to find just the perfect place.”
“If you’re into creepy-crawlies. Sure. It’s perfect.”
Clyde took a menacing step toward her, but Hieronymous held up a hand, stopping him. “Clyde, please. There’s no need to intimidate our guest.” He tilted his head, clearly inspecting her from toes to hair. “For that matter, you must be uncomfortable.”
He spoke as if she were simply sitting on an extremely hard chair, rather than being stretched so tight that she balanced on her tiptoes with her wrists far above her head.
“Mordi, there’s no reason for Tracy to be bound. She’s our guest after all. Let her down.”
Mordichai nodded, then slipped the key from his pocket. He moved slowly, as if he wasn’t in any hurry to help her out, then started to fumble with the lock at her wrist. “Just stay calm,” he whispered, hoping his father couldn’t hear him. “Stay calm and it will all be over soon.”
If he’d hoped for some sense of connection between them, he was sorely disappointed. The look she aimed at him was scathing, and full of hurt, and once again Mordi cursed the birthright that had led him to this situation.
As soon as she was released, Tracy sank to the floor, then crawled to the mattress and started massaging her wrists. “What do you want with me?” She aimed the question directly at Hieronymous, and Mordi was impressed that she looked him in the eye.
“What do I want? Well, my dear, I think it’s obvious. I want the belt.”
“I—”
“Come, come. Hale and Zoë have been putting nasty thoughts into your head. There’s a bit of a family feud, I’ll admit, but I’m really not such a bad guy.” He turned to Clyde. “The tray, please.”
Clyde passed a silver tray, covered with a silver dome lid. Hieronymous pulled the lid off, revealing a sumptuous turkey dinner, complete with gravy, dressing, and cranberry sauce.
Tracy’s eyebrows went up, but she didn’t say anything.
He put the tray in her hands. “It’s Thanksgiving, my dear. Do what I ask, and you won’t believe the blessings that will be heaped upon you.”
“In other words, give you the belt, and I’ll be treated differently than all the other mortals you’re planning to enslave.”
“But of course. Concessions can always be made.”
She licked her lips, her eyes darting down to the food. “I see. And you want...”
“Simply the belt, of course. Such a small thing, really.”
“Right.” She licked her lips, then nodded at the food. “May I?”
“Certainly, my dear. I didn’t bring it in just to torture you.”
There wasn’t a fork or a knife on the tray, but Tracy didn’t hesitate. She reached for the stuffing, got a few fingersful, then lifted it to her mouth. Mordi held his breath, wondering if she was truly going to accept food from his father.
He should have known better, of course. Tracy apparently had the backbone he’d lacked his entire life. In one quick movement, she flipped her hand around, flinging the stuffing onto Hieronymous’s face.
“Oops,” she said. “Looks like it got away from me.”
Mordi’s father leapt to his feet, his cloak swirling about him. “That was a stupid thing to do.” His words were measured, harsh, and Mordi cringed. He knew that tone.
Tracy managed to hold her own. “What was stupid was kidnapping me. Hale will save me, you know.”
“Will he? He’ll have to find you first, and don’t think that will be an easy chore.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not getting the belt.”
“We’ll see about that.” He turned to Clyde. “Confine her again.”
Tracy struggled, but in the end, she was no match for Clyde. In no time, he had her pinned to the wall.
Hieronymous turned to Mordi. “Open the trapdoor and let Harry in.”
Mordi nodded, not wanting to, but helpless to resist his father’s command. Bending over, he tugged at the thick metal ring on the floor until the heavy wooden door opened and Harry—Hieronymous’s favorite Henchman— popped into the room.
“The belt,” Hieronymous said, pointing to Tracy. “Separate the young lady from the belt.”
Harry slithered over, his slimy body leaving a wet imprint on the floor. When he reached Tracy, he grasped her around the waist, his tentacles fondling the belt as Tracy struggled uselessly against her bonds. Tears streamed down her face, and Mordi had to force himself to stay put, to not lunge forward and grab the belt the second it fell from Tracy’s waist.
Except it wasn’t falling. It wasn’t budging at all.
“Get... the ... belt.” Tight fury laced Hieronymous’s voice.
“Can’t get. Itsa not coming.”
“Fool!” Mordi’s father’s arm shot out, striking Harry’s head with a resounding squish and propelling the Henchman out the window. Silence. Then ker-plop as his doughy, squid-like body hit the ocean below. Mordi had no idea why Harry hadn’t been able to take the belt, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the belt was still tight around Tracy’s waist... and Hieronymous was pissed.
Tracy cringed, her eyes darting between Clyde and Hieronymous as she gnawed on her lower lip.
Hieronymous just stood there, staring at Tracy, his face expressionless. Then he smiled, and Mordi went cold. “Apparently I won’t be acquiring the belt through one of my Henchmen. Too bad, too. It would have been so much more pleasant for you.”
Tracy liked her lips. “What do you mean?”
“It looks like I have only one choice,” he said, picking the tray up from the floor. Hieronymous leaned closer, his nose almost touching Tracy’s. She managed to hold his gaze, but her deathly pale skin revealed just how scared she was.
“What?” Her question, barely voiced, drifted to Mordi.
“I should think it’s obvious. Clearly, I’m going to have to persuade you to give it to me.” The leader of the Outcasts’s smile turned ice cold, and Mordi shuddered. “I wonder if three or four days without food won’t make you more cognizant of the joys of sharing.”
Mordi shuddered.



“A castle? South of Santa Monica?” Hale stared at the computer screen, unable to believe what he was seeing. “What in the name of Hades is Clyde doing with a castle?”
They were sitting in Tracy’s kitchen working from Hale’s laptop, and now Zoë slid her chair over to look around his shoulder and read the e-mail from Zephron aloud. “Council intelligence has determined that Clyde, a known Hieronymous associate and Outcast, recently inspected for the purpose of purchasing an abandoned movie set, including functional castle. Intended use is as yet undetermined.” She turned to face Hale. “What intelligence? Who’s this from?”
“Does it matter? It’s the best lead we have.” He stood up, pulling his Council pack off the table. They’d been trying to find Tracy all night, had called Zephron, and this was the first break they’d gotten.
“I’m going with you,” Zoë said.
“No. It might be a trap. I want you to wait here. Call Zephron. Let him know I may need backup. And if I don’t report back in an hour, you know the drill.” He kissed his sister’s cheek, then caught her eye. “If something happens to me, you may have to rescue her on your own.” He couldn’t even bring himself to voice the possibility that something might happen to Tracy.
Zoë put her hand on his arm. “She’ll be all right.”
“What if she’s not? I never even told her I love her.” He shook his head. “Well, I did. And then I told her it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t enough.” Closing his eyes, he drew in a strangled breath. “Not enough? Hell, it’s everything.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell her.”
“That’s my plan.”
Within seconds, he’d put on his cloak and was racing down the Pacific Coast Highway. On any normal day, it would be a pleasant flight. Invigorating, even. But today— this morning—all he could think about was Tracy. He’d been a fool. And now his foolishness was coming back to haunt him in the most horrible of ways.
He’d been afraid to care, afraid she’d leave. But deep in his heart, he now believed she wouldn’t. And he had for some time, even though he hadn’t let himself believe it. She loved him as much as he loved her. He wouldn’t go anywhere, so why assume she would?
Because he’d been looking for an excuse, that’s why. Any excuse to insulate himself from the very terror he was feeling right now—that the mortal he loved might be taken or harmed or used as bait. But he’d been stupid. Shortsighted. He’d turned Tracy away, and still she wasn’t safe. She could never be perfectly safe. Because as long as he loved her, she’d always be vulnerable. And so would his heart.
Together, they could lean on each other.
He wanted many, many years of leaning.
He could only hope that, after being kidnapped by Hieronymous and held prisoner in a castle, she wouldn’t want to wash her hands of him altogether. After all, she might blame him, blame him for this terrible world he’d brought into her life. Somehow, though, deep in his heart, he knew she wouldn’t. No matter what she went through, she loved him. And she’d stay with him, forever. She’d been trying to explain that to him.
He had no idea who the Council’s spy on Hieronymous’s turf was, but he said a silent thank-you. Without him, Hale might have found Tracy too late.
Of course he hadn’t found her yet, but something told him he was on the right track. Especially when the castle came into view. Elegant but dilapidated, it seemed perfectly suited to his uncle Hieronymous.
This had to be it. Tracy was in there somewhere. He didn’t know where to look, but he’d find her. Considering how many times he’d dressed up as the castle laird for a romance novel, it seemed somehow appropriate that this should be the site of his rescue of Tracy. For, even if he had to comb every square inch from the dungeon to the tower, Hale intended to find her.



The sun was high in the sky, but Tracy couldn’t control her shivering. Hunger, terror, and exhaustion were all taking their toll, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But sleep was an impossibility and lying down was even less feasible. She was pinioned upright to a cold, stone wall.
Even now, she couldn’t believe she was trapped in some European castle, but that sure seemed to be the situation. Mordi had blindfolded her for the journey, and she could no longer see out the window, so she didn’t know where exactly she was, but she’d bet Scotland. Not that it mattered. Wherever she was, she was in trouble.
She’d read more than her share of romance novels set in Scottish castles. Surely one had a scene where the heroine broke free of manacles. But darned if she could think of one.
Not that she’d had any opportunity to try to escape. She’d been kept under constant surveillance by Hieronymous and his minions since she got here.
She still couldn’t believe she’d misjudged Mordi. He’d seemed to sincerely want to help her and Hale. Finding out that he was nothing more than a Hieronymous flunkie had certainly been a major letdown.
“Master. Our little problem has arrived.”
Little problem? That had to be Hale. Tracy tried hard to keep the smile from her face.
“Don’t count your chickens yet, my dear,” Hieronymous snapped. “I assure you Clyde is more than capable of ridding the castle of my silly nephew.”
Apparently, she hadn’t managed to keep that smile under wraps after all.
“I, however, must be running along.” Hieronymous reached out and took her hand, then raised it to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. Tracy bit back a wave of revulsion as he leaned close and whispered, “You see, I must maintain no connection to this place. If anyone asks, I will simply have been in my Manhattan hideaway, unaware of what my son and Clyde were doing to you poor, defenseless little mortal.”
“I’ll be more than happy to clue them in.”
He laughed, then patted her cheek. “You do that, my dear. And while they might believe you, they won’t be able to raise a hand against me. You see, even though your beloved Hale’s Council seems to have such love of you mortals, you can’t testify against a Protector. Not even against an Outcast. I’m afraid, my dear, that their laws protect me. I’ll be back once this situation is... handled.” He smiled then, and, ridiculously, Mack the Knife started running through her head: And he keeps them, pearly white.
Dear Lord, she must be hysterical.
She tried to think of something else to say, something to stop him, to keep him there until Hale found her. But there were no words, and soon he disappeared, flying out the window, his cloak flapping behind him until he was little more than a pinpoint in the sky.
Clyde glowered at her from the corner, and Tracy shivered again. She turned to Mordi, who was closer.
“Why did your father say that Hale was no match for Clyde?”
“Every Protector has powers. Clyde has all the innate Protector skills—speed, strength, agility—but they’re enhanced.”
“Oh.”
Mordi looked unhappy. “In other words, Clyde could probably cream us all.”
“Oh,” she repeated. She glanced at Clyde and smiled weakly. He didn’t smile back. “Great.”
“Tracy!” someone called.
Hale! His voice far away, but clearly in the castle.
“I’m up here,” she shouted. “Somewhere in the tower. But be careful.”
“Is Mordi with you?”
“Yes,” she yelled back, glaring at Mordi. He didn’t try to stop her. “And someone named Clyde.” She glanced over. The Outcast appeared amused by Hale’s plan of attack.
“Are you okay?” His voice was getting closer.
“I’m fine. For now. Please. Be careful.” She’d never chewed on her fingernails, but at the moment, she wished she could rip a hand free from the manacles and have a nibble.
Hurried footsteps. Closer, then closer still.
“Did they get the belt?”
“No. They tried using a Henchman. It won’t come off. I might as well be wearing ruby slippers.” She laughed. Not that anything was funny, but considering she’d been yanked from her house, flown to Scotland, and tortured by a demented ex-superhero, a few hysterics were probably in order. “It’s still firmly around my waist.”
“I’ll have you and your waist out of here in no time.” His voice was just beyond the threshold.
Clyde moved toward the door.
“No,” Mordi said. He turned to look up, facing the cameras in the corners. “Hale and I have a history. I get the first shot at him.”
A thin grin spread across Clyde’s face. “You think that you—a mere halfling—can best Hale?”
“I think I can, yes.”
“As you wish.” Disdain dripped from his voice, and Tracy made a mental note to ask Hale what was going on between those two. Assuming he got her out of here, of course.
The door burst open. Tracy held her breath, expecting Hale to burst through, too. Instead ... nothing.
She frowned.
Then Mordi keeled over, clutching his stomach in pain.
“Hale!” She wanted to clap, but her manacled hands prevented it. Instead, she wriggled with pleasure. Hale would get her out of here. He’d save her. She had no doubt at all.
His disembodied voice drifted toward her. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?”
Mordi tried to straighten up, then collapsed as something knocked out his knees from behind. Clyde watched, amused, from the side.
“A lot better now that you’re here,” she answered.
“When this is over, we need to talk.”
“Yeah?” She liked the sound of that.
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
Mordi was standing back up again, and once more, down he went.
Tracy stifled a giggle, suddenly in a remarkably chipper mood.
“About the fact that I love you.” Hale’s words zinged straight to her heart. “And I’ve been an idiot.”
“Yes, you have,” Mordi said. This time when he stood up, he focused on Hale’s voice. “You haven’t been playing fair,” he said, launching himself at the other Protector.
“Hale!” Tracy cried.
“I’m okay, babe. Mordi and I have been down this road before. I always win.”
“Not this time,” Mordi grunted.
Tracy struggled, a little whine growing in her throat, but her manacles held fast. She wasn’t going anywhere. Damn.
Clyde had kicked back in the chair and seemed to be enjoying the show. All he seemed to need was a bucket of popcorn.
Somehow, Mordi managed to get Hale around the... neck? He tumbled to the ground, holding on, and over and over he rolled until he actually reached the threshold and tumbled out of the room. Tracy could hear him and Hale struggling, but, try as she might, she couldn’t see a thing. Which meant that she could only hold her breath and hope that the man who eventually came back into the room was the one she loved. Hale. She looked over at Clyde. It looked like he was thinking the same thing.



“You conniving little twit,” Hale yelled, slamming his fist again into Mordi’s gut. They’d grown up together, and Hale was certain of winning. Beating Mordi on the field of battle wasn’t any trick at all.
Clyde, though ... Clyde was a completely different story.
Mordi rolled, trying to avoid Hale’s kicks and punches while he held on. His efforts rolled them into the far corners of the hallway outside Tracy’s cell.
“I had no choice,” Mordi gasped out.
Hale broke free and turned visible. “Sweet Hera, you’re a cool liar. I was actually beginning to believe you’d changed. I even thought you liked Tracy.”
“I do,” Mordi hissed. “Will you listen to me?”
Hale wasn’t having any of it. Once again, he threw himself forward. The two Protectors both struck the wall, the force of their impact knocking several stones loose.
“Dammit, Hale, I need to tell you something.” Hale ignored his cousin, gripping Mordi by his neck until the little viper’s next words were little more than a squeak. “Why do you think I got us out here?”
“You’ve put me and the woman I love in danger. Why in Hades should I let you say anything?”
“Because there aren’t any cameras out here in the alcove,” Mordi gasped, his voice little more than a whisper. “My father can’t see a thing.”
It wasn’t at all the response Hale was expecting. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Mordi opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a wheeze.
Hale pinned him down, using both arms to press Mordi’s shoulders to the wall, and his knee to keep firm pressure on his gut. “Talk.”
“Keep your voice down,” Mordi said, “I don’t know how sensitive the mikes are in Tracy’s room.”
“If you don’t start talking now, you’re never going to know anything about anything,” Hale said, increasing the pressure with his knee. But even so, he spoke in a whisper. This might be a trap, but the crafty little bastard had caught his attention.
“Who the hell do you think sent Zephron the location of this castle? Who do you think is spying on Hieronymous from the inside?”
“You?” Hale shook his head. “I’m not buying it, Mordi. I know what you’ve done, remember? I watched you help your father try to take over the world and battle Zoë. You stole Tracy. I think I know you well enough to know what to believe.”
“I had hoped that you did.” This time, Mordi sounded cool and collected, and for an instant, Hale’s resolve cracked. “Throw us against the next wall,” he said.
“What?”
“Clyde. We need to sound like we’re fighting. Throw us against the next wall.”
Hale shrugged, then, keeping a grip on Mordi, lunged across the room. It sent a few more rocks clattering to the floor as Mordi’s back impacted on the stone.
“You could be a little more gentle,” Mordi hissed.
“You’re on Probation,” Hale said, reminding himself why he couldn’t trust his cousin. “There’s a reason for that. You have a little difficulty distinguishing the good guys from the bad guys.”
“I am one of the good guys. I was going to recover the belt for the Council. Me. For once in my life I was going to manage to do something the great Hale couldn’t do. And do it by using my father.”
Hale swallowed. This was starting to sound more like the cousin he knew. “Why the hell should I believe you?”
Mordi tilted his head up, and Hale saw the intensity reflected in those vivid green eyes. “Do you think I like being on Probation? Being tested over and over again like my loyalty is in question?”
“Your loyalty is in question.” Hale kicked a few rocks down the stairs. On the off chance Mordi was telling the truth, he didn’t want Clyde’s suspicions raised. Not that Clyde was the brightest bulb, but still.
“I also considered keeping it for myself,” Mordi admitted, not meeting Hale’s eyes.
“The belt?”
A single nod. “My father thought I was getting it for him. Zephron thought I was simply a mole in my father’s organization.” A smile touched his lips. “At first I merely wanted to show you up. Me. Mordichai. Hieronymous’s son. I wanted to be the one to return the belt to the Council. But then—”
“You thought you’d just keep it and have a run at world domination yourself.”
“Why not? It’s better than being on Probation the rest of my life.”
“That’s exactly why you are on Probation.”
Mordi sighed. “Don’t I know it.” Another intense gaze. “But I didn’t try to keep it. I sent that message.”
“You also kidnapped Tracy.”
“I had to. If I hadn’t, I would have lost my usefulness as a mole. If there’s one thing my father is not, it’s stupid.” He took a deep breath. “I’m the one who got you here. So you could save Tracy and the belt. I don’t have a chance in Hades against Clyde.” He shrugged. “Hell, maybe neither do you, for that matter.”
“Okay. Help me. If you’re really on my side, help me defeat Clyde.”
“No can do, cousin.”
Hale felt annoyed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Think, Hale. If I fight Clyde, my cover’s blown. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Convenient,” Hale said. He just couldn’t bring himself to trust his cousin.
“Dammit, Hale. What do I have to do to convince you?”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. You’ve cried wolf just a little too often.”
Mordi closed his eyes. “Then so be it.” Twisting violently to the right, he managed to free himself from Hale’s grip.
Hale cursed. He’d let his hold go slack as he listened to Mordi’s absurd story. Even more absurdly, he’d actually been wanting to believe his cousin. Now, Mordi was showing his true colors.
Mordi bounded back, on guard just at the edge of the stairs.
“I don’t want to fight you, Cousin,” Hale said. “Just leave. Leave, and we’ll deal with this another day.”
“No,” Mordi said.
“Then you’ve made your decision.” Hale moved forward, but as he did, a ball of fire bloomed in Mordi’s hand. Real fire, not the fake kind his cousin often summoned. Hale hesitated. He could defeat Mordi—even with fire—but that made it more difficult. And he still had Clyde to confront. The Outcast was in the cell with Tracy.
Thinking of Tracy, Hale realized he needed to just go for it. He rushed forward, planning to fall into a roll as soon as Mordi pitched the fireball. Mordi tossed. Hale crouched, rolling on the floor, but as he did he realized that the fireball had been thrown clear. It burst into a flurry of sparks on the far side of the room.
Mordi hadn’t even aimed at him....
Had he been telling the truth after all? There wasn’t time to think about it now. And he could never be completely certain.
“I’m sorry,” Hale said, pulling his fist back. With all of his strength, he let fly. Mordi didn’t even raise a hand in defense. Only when his cousin fell to the ground unconscious did Hale decide that maybe Mordi had been telling the truth after all.



That creep Clyde looked all too comfortable in that upholstered red chair. Especially since Tracy was so decidedly uncomfortable in her current position. She strained sideways, trying to see something—anything—through the doorway.
Nothing.
And then she saw a burst of flame as a fireball exploded.
She held her breath. Mordi conjured fire. Did that mean he’d hit Hale? Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer. Please, no. She’d just gotten him again. She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.
The silence in the castle was deafening. There was nothing in the room except the scrape of her manacles against the wall and the sound of Clyde’s breathing. Nothing in the alcove—just a terrifying silence that sank in her stomach like a rock.
The sound of her breathing grated against her ears, and now her heartbeat seemed to echo through the room. Where was he? Her skin felt cold and clammy, and she wondered if she was in shock.
“It sounds like your little hero isn’t so much of a hero after all,” Clyde sneered, drumming his fingers on his chair’s wooden armrest.
She writhed against her manacles, wishing more than anything she could get her fingers around his neck. “He’ll win.”
“The silence would suggest otherwise. I admit I’m surprised. I certainly didn’t think Mordichai could defeat an accomplished Protector like your Hale. But it sounds like he did just that.” An awful, wide sneer crossed the thug’s face. “Of course, it doesn’t sound like he made it, either.” Clyde shrugged. “Pity.”
“Hale is fine. You’ll see. He’ll wipe that sneer off your face.”
“You have quite a mouth, young lady.” Clyde looked at his watch. “We’ll see how enthusiastic you are after a few more days with no food or water.”
Tracy swallowed. Already her mouth was parched. In a few days without water, she’d likely be unconscious. Or dead.
Suddenly, his chair lifted into the air, and the look of confused surprise on Clyde’s face almost made this whole terrible encounter worthwhile. Almost.
The chair hung there for a moment, then whizzed across the room, landing with a crash on the opposite wall. It shattered, and Clyde tumbled to the ground in a flurry of black cape and leather shoes. When he looked up, an expression of astounded horror lined his face.
“Ha!” Tracy yelled. “I told you.”
Clyde climbed to his knees. “Where are you, you invisible coward?”
No answer.
Tracy scanned the room, looking for some inkling of Hale’s whereabouts. Nothing.
Clyde twirled around, his cape fluttering, as he tried to find Hale, too. From the frustrated look on his face, Tracy assumed he wasn’t having any better luck.
A stone on the floor rose and flew straight at Clyde. The Outcast jumped sideways, but not fast enough, and it struck the side of his body.
He spun around. “Show yourself, you miserable coward!”
“I’m right here, Clydie-boy.”
Hale, Tracy thought. His voice was so close to her. And then not just his voice, but the man himself. He materialized, leaning against the wall right next to her.
Tracy stifled a laugh. Like Clyde, she’d assumed he’d been invisible while lifting the chair and tossing the rock. He’d been invisible, all right. But he hadn’t lifted anything. He’d levitated the things while standing right next to her.
As Clyde scowled, Hale tilted his head back and looked at her. “Guess it’s time for me to do my job and rescue the fair princess from the tower.”
“Guess so.” Even under the circumstances, Tracy couldn’t keep the delighted smile off her lips.
“I love you,” he said.
Her smile grew even broader. “I know.” She nodded toward Clyde. “Now go beat the crap out of the bad guy.”



Damned inconvenient he had to fight Clyde. All Hale wanted to do was gather Tracy in his arms and make love to her.
It was even more inconvenient since the odds were definitely in Clyde’s favor. On pure strength alone, he was no match for the brute. Already he was exhausted from the trip here and the battle with Mordi. But his one advantage was his ability to turn invisible, and Hale intended to use it.
Clyde rushed forward. Hale dematerialized, but the other man still knocked him to the ground. Over and over they rolled, Clyde grappling with a foe he couldn’t see, but still managing to keep Hale’s legs pinned down.
Finally, Hale managed to get a single strike in—at Clyde’s nose. As the Outcast recoiled, Hale hopped to his feet. His enemy followed suit, half-crouching as he slowly turned, ready to defend himself wherever the attack might appear.
Seizing the advantage, Hale rushed Clyde when his back was turned. He threw the Outcast to the ground and got a lock around his neck. The brute gasped and wheezed as he stood, thrashing about with every ounce of his inordinate strength, but Hale hung on.
Clyde threw himself backward against the wall. Since Hale was clinging to his back, that meant Hale was squashed. He kicked, pressing his heel into Clyde’s groin until the creep gasped and lurched forward, releasing Hale from his trapped state.
Hale slid off, rolling sideways as silently as possible. Clyde again circled, once more trying to find him.
“I know you’re here, little man.” A singsong voice. “Come out and play.” A pause. “Or are you afraid the big, bad Outcast will beat you to a pulp?”
Hale kept his mouth shut, not intending to let Clyde bait him into revealing his whereabouts.
Another turn of the circle, then another. Finally, when Clyde’s rear end was right there, Hale shot his leg out, catching the burly Outcast at the base of the spine. The blow sent him tumbling.
Hale had expected Clyde would immediately hop back to his feet, but the other man surprised him, lying unmoving on the floor. Hale crept forward, peering down, trying to decide if the brute was playing dead.
No signs of life.
Silently, he leaned forward. Nothing. No movement. No breathing. Nothing. He kicked him. No movement.
That was easy! The big dumb Outcast would never stand for such treatment if he were awake.
Turning visible, he went to Tracy. “I can’t tell if he’s dead or just knocked out, but right now, I don’t care.” He took a step toward her. “Let’s get out of here and get that belt to the Council before he wakes up.”
She nodded, but the look of relief on her face faded as she went pale. She screamed, her body jerking futilely as she tried to point.
He whipped around. Visible, he was one heck of a big target. Ka-choing! Clyde sprang forward, his fist catching Hale in the throat.
Choking, Hale stumbled backward, the force of the blow knocking him partially through the stone outer wall of the castle. He pulled out, throwing himself at Clyde so that the two went tumbling, landing in a heap on the mattress under the window.
“You can’t win,” Clyde sneered. “You know I’m stronger. Compared to me, you’re practically a mortal.”
“And what the hell’s wrong with that?” Hale asked, his body energized by the fury that burned in his blood.
Clyde sneered. “Why, my boy, I thought if anyone knew, you did.”
Automatically, Hale’s eyes darted to Tracy. Tight and thin, her colorless lips revealed her worry. But her eyes met his, and in them he saw trust bloom.
“Sorry, Clyde. I can’t think of a thing.” In one swift motion, he raised his legs and pushed, catching his foe at the hips and off-balancing him. The Outcast stumbled backward, toward Tracy, and Hale silently willed her to understand.
Bless her heart, she did. As Clyde approached, she grabbed onto the chains above her hands, lifted her legs, and kicked for all she was worth.
Like a puck on an air-hockey table, Clyde was thrown back toward Hale. In a flash, Hale grabbed him by the shoulders, flipped him over, and sent him crashing through the too-small window.
Bits of rock and mortar went flying and, after a few seconds, a resounding splash echoed up from the ocean below.
Hale turned to Tracy. “That’s only temporary. He’ll be back soon.” He grinned, then held up Clyde’s propulsion cloak, which he’d held onto. “Of course, he won’t be back too soon.”
“What about Mordi?”
“He’s fine. Passed out, but fine. But he’s going to have a hell of a headache—and a heck of a lot of explaining to the Council and his father.” He kissed Tracy’s nose. “Not our problem. We need to go.”
“I’m all for getting the hell out of Dodge. I mean, I’ve always wanted to see Scotland, but this isn’t really what I had in mind.”
He headed toward her, ready to rip her free from the chains, when he realized what she’d said. “Scotland?”
“Well, yeah. I just assumed. Is this Ireland or England?”
He laughed. “Try Los Angeles, sweetheart. Clyde’s taking a swim in the cold waters of the Pacific.”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked somewhat disappointed. “No way. And here I thought I’d finally had the chance to be the heroine in one of your romance novels.”
Stifling a grin, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You are, Tracy. With the belt, without the belt, you’re the only woman for me. The only heroine for me. And I love you.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “The only one?”
Hale shrugged, embarrassed at how stupid he’d acted before. “Well, from here on out anyway. I can’t change the past, but I promise I won’t ever repeat it.”
A single tear trickled down Tracy’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I know.” He ripped the manacles open, freeing one of her wrists and then the other. “Time to fly back?”
She looked dazed. “Where?”
He kissed her on the nose, wanting to kiss her everywhere. But there was plenty of time for that later. “Our home. I just moved in, remember? You’re not getting rid of me this easily. In fact, I think I might be there to stay.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah. If you’ll have me.”
She beamed. “Let’s get home. The sooner the better.”
Hale hopped up to the window, then held out an arm for her, not feeling completely whole until he’d lifted her up and wrapped her in his embrace. “I hope you don’t mind flying economy,” he said.
“I think I can handle it.” She kissed his cheek. “Just one thing, though.” Reaching down she unhooked the belt, then pressed the cool metal into his hand. “We need to deliver this to your Council on the way.” Her smile went straight to his heart. “I don’t need it anymore.”



Tracy held on tight to Hale’s hand as they delivered Aphrodite’s girdle to Zephron. Any tighter, actually, and Hale would have wondered if she’d somehow absorbed a portion of his super strength. She might have spent her youth around celebrities, but apparently that didn’t mean Tracy was comfortable with superhero leaders—no matter how grandfatherly they might look.
“Thank you, Miss Tannin,” Zephron said with a smile. “I assure you, the Council will keep your grandmother’s belt safe.”
She exhaled, and Hale silently thanked Zephron for putting her at ease. “I know you will,” she said. “I’m just happy it’s away from the bad guys.” She frowned. “Speaking of...”
Zephron nodded. “Yes. Clyde and Mordichai.”
“What’s going to happen to them?” Tracy asked.
“Clyde has disappeared. We will find him, of course. The moment he uses his powers, we will be able to hone in on him.” Zephron shrugged. “And until then ... well, he’ll have a chance to see how mortals live.”
“What about Mordi?” Hale asked.
“Your cousin. That is trickier. Despite what he told you in the castle, we still do not know his true intentions. Did he intend to acquire the belt to return it to us? Was he truly working for his father? Or did our young Mordichai plan to use the belt for his own purposes?” The Elder shook his head. “We don’t know. But the Council is investigating.”
“He was kind to me,” Tracy put in. “He could have tried to drive a wedge between me and Hale, but instead he told me Hale cared about me.” That was news to Hale, and he silently thanked his cousin. “If he needs a character witness,” Tracy continued, “you can call me.”
Zephron smiled at her. “You are a special woman, Tracy Tannin. I hope you realize that.”
Tracy didn’t answer, but when Hale squeezed her hand, she squeezed back. Zephron was right, of course, and Hale intended to remind her how special she was every day for the rest of their lives.
The Elder turned to him. “And you, Hale. You are due to be congratulated for your successful mission.” A small smile twitched on his lips, and Hale had the impression that Zephron was holding something back. He’d thought that once before—the day the Elder had assigned him this mission. He hadn’t asked then, but now he needed to know. “What? Am I missing something?”
Zephron fingered the belt. “Let’s just say that I was certain you were the appropriate Protector to give this task.”
At that, Hale had to laugh. “I was the most inappropriate Protector. Heck, we’re lucky Hieronymous didn’t prevail. You sent me—a guy who had some pretty hefty mortal issues—on a mission to befriend a mortal.”
“Ah,” the old man said. “It’s even worse than that. I sent you to fall in love with a mortal.”
Hale blinked. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Zephron to say that. “Excuse me?”
Zephron looked at Tracy. “Do you understand?”
To Hale’s surprise, she nodded. “I think so. I figured it out in the castle.”
Hale gaped as he waited for her to continue.
“Not anyone could persuade me to give up the belt. Even torturing me wouldn’t do it, although I guess Hieronymous didn’t know that.” She licked her lips. “Aphrodite was the goddess of love. I was only going to give the belt up to someone I loved.”
Hale frowned, then looked to Zephron for confirmation. The Elder nodded.
“It all makes sense,” Tracy continued. “Although I didn’t realize it until that Henchman couldn’t get it off me but I could take it off to give to you. I’d wanted to give it to you earlier, in the hotel bar. Something held me back. I wasn’t in love with you yet.” She smiled. “I was close. But I wasn’t there yet.”
Hale looked at Zephron, his eyes wide. “Then, you knew I’d fall in love with Tracy? Or that she’d fall in love with me?”
The Elder shook his head. “No. I did not even know if that was how the belt truly worked. I told you, we did not have the full information. But I suspected. It was a risk, of course, sending you. Your ‘issues’ as you call them made you a questionable choice. But at the same time, I believed that you were ready to overcome them. You just needed the right woman. And I believed Ms. Tannin here not only had the belt, but was that woman.” He caught Hale’s eyes. “So I assigned you. And I hoped.”
“Hoped?” Tracy echoed.
“Yes, I admit to taking a risk.” He smiled at her, his eyes warm and caring. “Considering the outcome, it is a risk I’m glad I took.” His eyes moved between Hale and Tracy. “I wish you many happy years. Perhaps there will be a new hailing on the horizon soon....”
Children? Hale swallowed and tugged at his collar, the idea more appealing than he would have thought. And also more terrifying.
Tracy laughed and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you get used to the idea of being in love with a mortal before we start planning kids.”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t fall in love with a mortal. I fell in love with Tracy Tannin.” He stroked her cheek, imagining himself holding her child ... their child. He had to admit he liked the image.
Her smile zinged straight to his heart as she said: “And I didn’t fall in love with a superhero or a cover model. I fell in love with you.” Then she asked with a soft laugh, “So, do you think Elmer’s ready to be an uncle?”
Hale chuckled, hugging her close. “So long as he gets his vacation and occasional infusions of HBO, I think he’ll do just fine.”