Aphrodite's Passion (4 page)

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

Something was definitely amiss.

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

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

“Where?” Zoë asked.

“Los Angeles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Centuries, I thought.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zephron nodded toward Hale. “Tell her.”

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

“Our great-great-great-great-et-cetera grandmother.”

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

Zoë frowned. “I’m not following.”

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

“Like a love potion.”

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

“Very true,” the Elder said.

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” Hale asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No kidding,” Hale said.

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

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

“No prob—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow,” Zoë said.

“Precisely,” Zephron agreed. “Our problem lay within a power struggle between my father and your grandfather. Each tried to acquire the belt. They wined and dined Ms. Tannin, seeking to persuade her to make a gift of the belt, but to no avail. Your grandfather did manage to acquire the stone centerpiece before it was lost again—that is another story—but the woman would not give up the girdle itself. My father visited her in a final effort to persuade her, but by the time he arrived the belt was gone. She wouldn’t say where she had taken it, but there was never any indication again that the woman had it in her possession. Despite our surveillance.”

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

“Never.”

“We failed?” Zoë sounded vaguely disappointed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a phone tap,” Zoë said.

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

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

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

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

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

“Taylor can help,” Zoë suggested.

“Not necessary,” Hale said.

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

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

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

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

Zephron smiled. “She has a granddaughter—Tracy. In fact, you might say that this woman is the reason
you
are being assigned to this matter.” He gave Hale a pointed look. “And since it is most likely this granddaughter inherited the belt, we’ve already retrieved the information on her current job in Los Angeles.”

Woo-hoo, a girl! That’s right up your alley, Hale
! Elmer chittered.

Hale couldn’t argue with that. Or, at least, it had
once
been up his alley. He hoped it still was. “I can be there within an hour.” He glanced down at his watch. Considering the time change, that would put him there in the afternoon. Propulsion cloaks were a fabulous thing. He could fly to L.A. and check out the granddaughter while Taylor tried to find out about Tahlula’s will. It wasn’t guaranteed to work, but it was a solid start.

He frowned, remembering Zephron’s words. “What do you mean that Tracy’s the reason I’m being assigned this mission?”

For a moment, he thought the Elder wouldn’t answer. Then Zephron pulled himself up to his full height. “Clearly this is an important task—the fate of the world depends on its success. Normally, we would assign a team of Protectors—”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hale said, not sure where Zephron was going.

“—but in this case,” Zephron continued, “I’ve decided to assign only you.” He nodded toward Zoë. “And your sister, of course. She can provide assistance.”

“I’m flattered,” Hale said, sure that the reason for his assignment wasn’t simply that Zephron thought he was supremely exceptional. Hale had an ego, sure. But he was also realistic. “But why me?”

“As I already explained, the mortal in possession of the belt must give it to a Protector voluntarily. We can’t simply steal it, since our powers would disappear.” He took a breath. “As I mentioned, we do not know all the details of how the belt protects itself and its mortal owner. However, anecdotal evidence suggests that that once a mortal wears the belt, he or she will be so enamored of the power and magic that they will not want to part with it. A request to simply give it away would likely be futile.”

Hale frowned. “Okay. But I still don’t understand why me.”

For a moment, Zephron actually looked embarrassed. “If the owner feels a bond—a connection—with the Protector, that fact can be used to our benefit to persuade the owner to hand over the belt voluntarily.” Zephron’s face became stem. “Neither Hector nor my father were able to persuade Tahlula, I’m afraid. Tahlula had not truly connected with them.” He looked Hale in the eye. “You must make that connection. Befriend this mortal. Persuade this mortal. Our survival—and the survival of every mortal on earth—depends on it.”

“And you really think
Hale’s
the best for this assignment?” Zoë asked, her voice pitched high with disbelief.

As Elmer chittered in agreement, Hale also had to concur. “You want me—
me
?—to befriend a mortal?” He looked at Zephron. “You’ve known me my whole life. Why in Hades would you shoulder
me
with this assignment?” It was almost as if Zephron wanted him to fail—or had some other unspoken agenda. It just didn’t make sense.

“You have befriended mortals in the past,” Zephron said. “Taylor, for example.”