The Bodyguard: Legacies of the Amazons, #1

By Abigail Drake

Ana Thermadosa is not like other girls. Descended from Amazon Warriors, she's a student at Artemis Academy, the training grounds for a shadowy company called Cerberus Enterprises. Ana has spent her life learning what's important—how to fight, how to win, how to kill, and, most of all, how to follow orders and live up to the expectations of her powerful family. The last thing she wants is to babysit a spoiled rich guy.

Jordan Banks has family issues of his own. His wealthy father is a control freak who will stop at nothing to keep Jordan safe, even if it means putting others in danger. After a botched kidnapping attempt results in his long-time bodyguard's death, Jordan wants to step away from the spotlight, but his father comes up with a unique solution. He hires Ana to protect his son.

Ana's skills are put to the test, but there is more at stake than she ever realized. Keeping Jordan safe could mean betraying her people and everything she believes in…but letting him die would mean betraying something else. Her own heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abigail Drake
• Release date: Aug 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201303396

Abigail Drake

Abigail Drake is the award-winning author of seventeen novels, but she didn't start her career in writing. She majored in Japanese and economics in college, and spent years traveling the world, collecting stories wherever she visited. She collected a husband from Istanbul on her travels, too, and he is her favorite souvenir. Abigail is a coffee addict, a puppy wrangler, and the mother of three adult sons. She writes contemporary romance, women's fiction, and young adult fiction, and has taught workshops for many different writing organizations. In her spare time, she blogs about her dog, Capone, and teaches writing classes for children at her local library. 

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Praise for Abigail Drake

This book is a beautiful story, from start to finish. It is unique, powerful, and so very inspiring.

Alexis Prue, Amazon Reviewer

The Bodyguard is a great read for fans of Wonder Woman, romance, action, and new spins on familiar tales.

Fiction Floozy

Another positive message for young adult women. Ana is a tiny package with a huge punch, literally and figuratively! Loved every moment of this book.

Sharon Arend, Amazon Reviewer

Copyright © 2020 by Abigail Drake

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Copy edits by Gwen Jones

Cover by Najla Qamber

Chapter 1

ANA

Ana Thermadosa, daughter of Melanippe, and proud descendant of a long and ancient line of Amazon Warriors, thought she might throw up. She sat at the end of a large, shiny black table in the middle of a crowded conference room, silent and still, as her mother negotiated with the stern-faced men in front of her.

To anyone watching, Ana appeared calm and indifferent, but beneath the table, she tapped her toe in a frantic rhythm as her stomach clenched and her palms grew damp. The outcome of this meeting might determine the next few months, if not years, of her life, but all she could do was sit and wait.

Her mother must have heard the tapping. She shot Ana a look, making her freeze in mid-motion. Mortified, Ana stopped. She hadn’t realized she’d been so loud. Fortunately, no one else noticed. Melanippe, known as Melani to her friends, Director Thermadosa to her employees, and that scary little woman to her enemies, continued. She seemed as unfazed by her daughter’s tapping as she was by the determined men sitting in front of her.

Steady and unwavering, she patiently explained herself for the second time in a row. Surely, Mr. Banks, you can sympathize with our position. The services offered by Cerberus Enterprises are a closely guarded secret. We must insist you sign the contract and the privacy agreement before we can proceed. It is the only way we will even consider working with you.

One of the men at the table, a heavyset lawyer with receding hair and a sour expression on his face, shook his head in amazement. Consider working with us? You’ve got to be kidding. There is no need to put up with this, Mr. Banks. We can find another company.

Roman Banks held up a hand to silence him, his gaze on Melani’s face. If he believed he could intimidate her, he was sadly mistaken. Melani was unflappable, and he must have read it in her eyes. He slapped his palm on the table, causing his lawyers to jump.

Fine. I’ll do it.

The heavyset lawyer spoke again, this time with a pleading note in his voice. Mr. Banks, as your head counsel, I have to warn you not to be so hasty. You don’t need these people. We can find someone else—

Roman glared at him. And lose my son in the process? No, thank you. He turned back to Melani. I’ll sign whatever you want, but I need a commitment from you. Swear to me Jordan will be safe.

You’re getting the best money can buy, Mr. Banks. I promise.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him. He reached for the stack of papers, barely looking at the fine print, and signed in a bold, black script as his lawyers cringed. Roman ignored them, glancing at Melani with a question in his eyes.

The Sultan of Brunei told me you saved his life once.

She smiled, tilting her head slightly to one side, but didn’t respond. Her glossy black hair, still untouched by gray, had been wound into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck, and she dressed in a simple, white blouse and black pants. Tiny and graceful, she looked like a butterfly surrounded by grizzly bears in the conference room filled with big, burly men. Looks were deceiving, however. Melani was as delicate as a steamroller.

Mr. Banks continued to watch her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Finally, she let out a sigh. Sir, our entire operation is based on privacy and discretion. We never discuss our clients, past or present.

He frowned, disappointed, but accepted her answer. He didn’t even glance at Ana, but he gave Melani’s assistant, Philip, a conspiratorial wink.

Do they ever let you talk? It must be hard working in a company with women all day.

Philip shrugged his broad shoulders. With his dark hair and commanding presence, he didn’t look like a secretary, but he’d been Melani’s assistant for as long as Ana could remember. Although Ana suspected Philip secretly enjoyed it when people mistook him for the boss, she knew he’d deny it. Philip was always prudent. He knew the rules.

I only talk when necessary. He gave Roman a tight smile.

Roman let out a laugh. Smart man.

Feeling invisible, Ana took this opportunity to study Roman. She’d already read his file. He had a golden touch when it came to business, but a ruthless nature. He’d made many enemies, and one of those enemies had just tried to kidnap Roman’s only son.

Despite his cold eyes and blatant arrogance, she had to admit he had a handsome face, and from the photos she’d seen of his son, Jordan had the same blond Viking looks as his father. But did he also have the same cruel, calculating nature? She’d find out soon.

Melani scanned the documents, her eyes meeting Ana’s briefly across the table. She always gave Ana a chance to back out if she wasn’t comfortable, but Ana knew she could handle this. Babysitting spoiled rich boys would never be her favorite assignment, but at least she did it well.

When Ana gave her a small nod, her mother’s lips curved ever so slightly. Melani knew how much Ana despised the Jordan Banks of the world.

Well, Mr. Banks, Melani said, standing to shake his hand. It’s a deal. One of the best guardians we have will protect your son. She’ll be discreet, professional, and blend in well enough no one will recognize she’s guarding him. Her appearance will give the kidnappers a false sense of security, and give the authorities the chance to apprehend the threat so they will never bother you again.

Roman rubbed his hands together. Now that the negotiations were over, he seemed bored. So, who is it? He shifted restlessly in his seat. Come on. Show yourself. I want to meet you before I go.

His gaze rested on Phoebe, the in-house counsel, who was well over six feet tall, made of muscle, and a shot put champion. He probably assumed Jordan’s bodyguard would look like her. He was about to get a little surprise.

Ana raised her hand slowly, and Roman’s eyes widened in shock. You? You’re only a kid. I assumed you were an intern. How old are you? Fifteen?

She’s sixteen. Melani’s tone turned frosty. And she’s one of the best guardians we have. She’ll protect your son. I guarantee it. She’s ideally suited for this position.

Roman smirked, leaning back in his chair. Sorry. I’m not paying you that much, he pointed to the amount listed on the paperwork, to hire a teenager.

You just did. In the contract you signed, we have complete freedom to choose which guardian best meets your needs. We have chosen Ana.

Ana? Is her name Ana? Look, she seems like a sweet little thing, but these people made mincemeat of his last bodyguard, a giant named Luther, who was also a former green beret, Roman said testily. He was the best of the best.

And he is dead, and Jordan nearly died with him.

Because Roman had already signed the agreement, Melani didn’t have to act anymore. The delicate butterfly was gone. In her place sat a woman who exuded strength and power like a beacon.

Roman studied her with a curious sort of respect before his attention returned to Ana. He took in her petite frame, and the long dark hair pulled tightly into a ponytail, before shooting Melani a glower of annoyance. But she’s so small.

Size has nothing to do with skill, Ana said, speaking for the first time. And the way I look is part of the ruse. Blending in will help me take care of your son.

Roman still seemed unconvinced. Ana rose to her feet. I promise you, sir, this isn’t my first assignment. I have done this many times before, and I’ve never failed. Not once.

It was the truth. Basically.

At Cerberus, they divided jobs into categories. A Level One meant the subject needed basic services. She’d had her first Level One assignment at age ten.

Level Two assignments were for clients who’d had some kind of specific threat made against them. Her first Level Two had involved guarding a budding YouTube star from the unwanted attention of a stalker. It turned out the stalker was none other than the star’s neighbor, a fourteen-year-old with acne and braces. He’d proved to be no real threat at all, but Ana earned high commendations for solving the mystery and keeping the client safe.

In the three years since, piles of Level Two assignments had come her way, but she’d never gotten close to a Level Three. Until now. Level Three meant someone had already attempted to cause physical harm to the client. The danger level was higher than any Level Two, and she’d have access to more weapons.

Ana loved weapons, so she felt like she’d just hit the big time. The only thing higher would be a Level Four, an assassination attempt, and no one under eighteen ever got those.

It was a huge honor even to get a Level Three. Ana would be the youngest person ever assigned to such a high-level job. She wanted it so badly she could taste it. She decided to pull out the big guns.

If you’d like a demonstration, I am willing to provide it.

A demonstration? Roman asked with a snort, but Ana could tell he was intrigued. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Philip suppress a grin.

Me against them. She eyed the three hulking bodyguards standing behind him. They were all grinning at her, and one of them had the nerve to giggle. She decided he would be the first to learn a lesson. Bodyguards should not giggle.

Melani’s lips quirked. She obviously found this very amusing.

You don’t have to do this, Ana.

Yes, I do. Ana removed her black jacket, part of the standard-issue uniform worn by everyone at the company, and placed it over her chair. Beneath it, she had on a snug, black t-shirt, and comfortable pants. There’s a sparring room next door.

Would you like them to come in one at a time? Roman asked, probably trying to sound like a gentleman. Ana knew he expected her to get beat up, and she also knew he looked forward to seeing it. He wouldn’t be so lucky today.

She studied the bodyguards, sizing them up from head to toe, before opening the door to the sparring room and ushering them inside. No. I can handle them all at once, she said, shutting the door behind her.

Three men stood in front of her. Together they outweighed her by over five hundred pounds, but Ana knew size didn’t matter. In fact, in this case, size worked to her advantage. She gave each of them a name.

Giggles was the man who dared laugh at her in the conference room.

No Neck, a particularly muscle-bound specimen.

And Pretty Face, the only handsome one of the bunch.

Pretty Face was also the only one who could present a problem. From his stance and attitude, she could tell he’d had military training. Her only option would be to find a way to use his instincts against him. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was always ready for a challenge.

Giggles would be the first to go, but she had to throw off Pretty Face first. She glanced at him from under her eyelashes, nibbling nervously on her lip. Are you ready? she asked, making sure to inject a bit of a wobble into her voice.

He fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Ana could see it in his eyes. He didn’t want to beat up a little girl. She gave him a grateful smile before spinning around and kicking Giggles right in his smiling mouth. He fell over like a giant redwood. Timber.

What the—?

No Neck never finished his question. Ana kneed him in the groin and gave him a karate chop to the neck as soon as he doubled over.

Pretty Face stared at the two men on the ground in confusion. Her ploy had worked. He couldn’t imagine how the tiny girl with the big eyes and the tremor in her voice had turned into such a dangerous opponent. His confusion cost him seconds, which was all the time Ana needed to kick him in the side of his kneecap, making him fall to the floor. Even then, she didn’t take it easy on him.

Night, night, she said, giving him a right uppercut to the chin, knocking him out cold.

After wiping the grin from her face, she emerged from the sparring room, doing her best not to act smug. The three giant guards were unconscious on the floor behind her. She almost laughed at the expression on Roman’s face, but bodyguards don’t laugh, especially at their employers. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, put it on, and sat down to calmly finish her coffee. Roman continued to stare at her.

She didn’t even break a sweat.

He seemed to have trouble processing the fact his three muscle-bound men had been beaten up by a teenager. He studied Ana’s face, newfound respect gleaming in his bright blue eyes.

Well, he said, shaking his head in disbelief. I guess that means you’re hired.

Chapter 2

JORDAN

H e’s behind you. He’s right behind you. Shoot him now.

Jordan Banks screamed into his headset, the Xbox controller clenched tightly in his hands, as he watched his best friend Pike get killed on the screen in front of him. Pike let out a string of curse words so vile, they made Jordan roll with laughter.

Pike, dude, that last one you described was physically impossible. Jordan wiped away a tear. Although I have to give you points for creativity.

He glanced up to see Mrs. Mary Margaret McKelvey, his prim and proper housekeeper, standing in the doorway of his room, hands on her hips and a frown on her bespectacled face. Jordan knew that look well. She’d busted him. She’d heard every nasty word Pike had uttered, and somehow Jordan was to blame for it.

Uh, oh. I’ve got to go. Jordan spoke into the microphone, his eyes on Mrs. McKelvey. He ignored Pike’s howls of protest as he turned off the machine and got to his feet. Mrs. McKelvey's disapproval was a palpable thing, and he hated disappointing Mrs. McKelvey.

You need to find better friends, Jordan Banks, she said. Sitting in your room, wasting half the day, playing these ridiculous games. Fresh air and sunshine are what you need, not this.

She picked up the Halo case on the floor and eyed it with disgust, her silver hair wobbling in its bun as she shook her head from side to side. She put down the game and smoothed her skirt and blouse over her ample frame as she inspected the room.

Jordan began tidying things up. Sorry. I lost track of time.

It’s shameful, that’s what it is. Her Irish brogue always grew thicker when she got irritated. What can you possibly learn by playing games all day long?

She walked around Jordan’s spacious room, opening the curtains to let the light in and muttering to herself as she picked up the clothing and belongings strewn across the floor. Jordan jumped to help her, but she waved him away.

Your father is expecting you in his office in half an hour. She took in Jordan’s tousled hair and wrinkled clothing. You’d better be quick. You know how our Mr. Roman feels about punctuality.

Jordan groaned as he ran to the bathroom. He’d forgotten he had to meet with his father today. Turning on the water in the marble enclosed shower, Jordan whipped off his clothes and threw them onto the floor. He yelped in surprise when the water hit his body. It hadn’t warmed up, and the six separate shower heads blasted him with an icy stream, but the cold water jerked him into alertness and snapped him out of his gaming-induced fog.

Why did Roman want to see him so urgently? Maybe his father had finally figured out who was behind the latest kidnapping attempt. If so, it had taken him a lot longer than usual. The last time Jordan met with