Aphrodite's Passion by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online Page A

so much fun. “They’ll hear you.”
    We‘re two stories above. And you’re invisible.
    “Then they’ll see
you
. Would you be quiet?”
    They’ll just think I’m a squirrel.
    “Elmer...” He was in no mood to argue with the ferret. “Just be quiet, okay? I’m trying to watch the subject.”
    Subject, smubject. You‘re watching the female scenery.
    True enough. The women hovering around the now-fuming Leon Palmer were nice enough eye-candy. But it was Tracy Tannin who caught his attention. Any woman who could stand firm after throwing animal excrement on a famous actor like Palmer—smarmy cretin though he was—deserved Hale’s utmost respect.
    Not that Tracy looked to be proud of herself. More like she wanted to crawl under a rock. In fact, she seemed so miserable that it was all Hale could do to keep from materializing, hopping down from his perch on the roof, and giving her a hearty congratulatory handshake and slap on the back.
    Not that he really would, of course. Materializing in front of mortals always caused such a stir—they just didn’t understand.
    Besides, at the moment he was only here to observe. Soon enough his sister might discover that this woman had indeed inherited Aphrodite’s girdle. Then he would have to get close enough to sweet-talk the belt away.
    Still, while he might want to get
close
—in the way he typically did with mortal females—buddying up didn’t sit nearly as well. What had Zephron been thinking? Hale was the last Protector on Earth who should be trying to befriend a mortal. And the fact that Tracy Tannin intrigued him didn’t change that assessment one bit.
    At the moment, the object of his surveillance had a horrified look on her face. Even so, he thought he saw something hidden beneath the surface. A glimmer of amusement, maybe? A swell of satisfaction? He couldn’t tell, but he hoped he was right. She’d taken Palmer down a notch or two, and she deserved to be pleased.
    “Just
look
what you’ve done!” the actor yelled, his words becoming more coherent as he quit sputtering.
    Tracy cringed. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m so, so sorry.” But the corner of her mouth suggested that she was having a hard time holding in laughter. She took a step toward him, a rag she’d pulled from her back pocket held out like a peace offering. “Can I help?”
    “Yes, you can help,” he growled. “You can stay the hell away from me.”
    This guy was a definite jerk, in Hale’s estimation. All around Palmer, his little throng of hangers-on was dissipating, probably to escape the smell or to find washcloths of their own. Suddenly alone, the actor looked even more pitiful, and Hale silently urged Tracy to lay into him for being rude. To tell him he’d only got what he deserved.
    She didn’t, of course. Clearly, the girl had more class than Hale.
    Taking a cautious step backward, she held on tight to her bucket. “Well, I really am sorry, Leon. And if I can’t help, I guess I’ll just...” She trailed off, ending by gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. “Right. I’m ... uh ... going now.”
    With that, she turned and ran, her now-empty pooper-scooper bucket swinging as she sprinted through the back lot.
    Left behind, Leon muttered curses and used a handkerchief to wipe off his jeans and shirt. Hale didn’t intend to let it be that easy for him, though.
    One of the best superpowers he had was telekinesis— he could levitate even the nastiest things without touching them. So, every time superjerk tried to wipe himself clean, Hale just lifted some of the mess back up and splattered it on him.
    “What the ... ?” Leon shrieked.
    You’re very bad.
    “He deserves it.”
    Power exploitation . .
. Elmer chided in a singsong little voice, reminding Hale about the cardinal rule for Protectors.
    “He deserves it,” Hale repeated. “He’ll think it’s the wind. And rules are made to be broken.” Even so, he stopped. He’d made his point.
    He had better things to