Rogue Spotter Collection

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Rogue Spotter Collection Page 15

by Kimberly A Rogers


  “Mathias? What brings you here this morning? I figured you would be upstairs working on . . . security . . .” I trailed off as I realized the other girls were all huddled in a corner of the room while security personnel swarmed my desk pulling out drawers and rifling through papers. I looked from the men to Mathias. “What’s going on here? Why are you searching my desk?”

  Mathias slowly turned around with a grim expression. His blue-green eyes gave no clue to his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak but another horribly familiar voice interrupted, “Miss Hope, it would be in your best interest to come with us and to do so quietly. If you attempt to resist, you will be subdued.”

  The blood drained from my face, and I swayed slightly as Warden Bergman stepped out of the shadows to my left. His large hand wrapped around my upper arm as he steered me away from the desk, the security personnel, and my coworkers. “No. This is some kind of mistake. I don’t understand. What is going on?” I looked over my shoulder at Mathias and shook my head. “What is happening? Mathias? Why is this happening?”

  “You can explain the mistake in a more private room, if you please.” Warden Bergman led me by the arm out of the office, past several more startled looking coworkers, and into the lobby. When we entered the elevator, Mathias joined us. Then the elevator went down. To the underground containment.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lauren

  Every step I took echoed in the long hall. The lights were dim, faded with time, and a few flickered. I shuddered and Warden Bergman’s grip on my upper arm tightened as though I had just attempted to escape. Mathias’ slow steady steps drifted from behind us, but I didn’t dare risk a peek back at him. My head was still reeling from what had happened. I didn’t even understand what had happened.

  Warden Bergman’s long legged pace made me need to move at a trot to keep from being dragged. The longer I knew the man, the less I liked him. I eyed the empty cells we started passing. These cells were reserved for holding the more dangerous paranormals when a relocation or extraction occurred and the holding facility wasn’t immediately available. Or when logistics insisted this was the better way to move them without drawing too much attention. They were designed to contain the most powerful and fearsome paranormals with only a few exceptions. They weren’t used for holding paranormals like me with no real strength and power. Why bring me down here? Unless they intended to kill me . . .

  My breathing came a little faster as Warden Bergman pulled me deeper into the hall. The cells were no longer open bars. Now they held doors set into the wall without a single opening to peer inside. I bit back a whimper as Bergman’s grip on my arm tightened, and he nearly pulled me out of my shoes as he forced me to increase my pace again. No, Mathias wouldn’t be here if they intended to kill me. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. No. Mathias wouldn’t do that to me. He had too much honor to do that to me.

  Warden Bergman stopped so abruptly that it wrenched my arm. A low hiss escaped me, but he didn’t even acknowledge it as he steered me to stand to one side of the door and then gestured impatiently at Mathias. “Open it.”

  Mathias walked past us to stand in front of the door seam. He was so close I could feel the warmth from his body, but I didn’t dare to look up at him for fear I wouldn’t be able to hide my emotions. And, I didn’t want the chief warden to shift his attention to Mathias because I appeared too reliant on him. I shouldn’t have addressed Mathias so directly when I was first taken into custody. That would draw unnecessary attention to him. As it was, now all I could do to protect everyone around me was to cooperate as best I could and not act as though I knew anyone very well. My mind went back to my interaction with Beth. I thanked God that the elevator had been so crowded or else we might have been seen talking like close acquaintances. I definitely didn’t want that for her.

  The door hissed and retracted into the left hand wall revealing a dimly lit room. Warden Bergman’s grip on my arm tightened once more, and I grew certain he was going to leave a bruise. He shoved me past Mathias, causing me to bump against his arm, then released my arm only to place his hand against the center of my back and shove me forward. I barely kept from falling and cracking my head against the floor.

  Bracing a hand against the wall, I looked around the room. Bare walls sheeted with metal panels, a flickering light recessed into the ceiling, and two chairs bolted to the cement floor. One was a foot out from the far right corner while the other was maybe a foot and a half away. Meaning that two people sitting in them could almost have their knees touching, and they would be within easy reach of each other depending upon how they were sitting.

  The warden snapped, “That will be all. I don’t want this interrogation . . . compromised.”

  I started to turn to look back at the men but Warden Bergman shoved me forward again, sending me stumbling toward the chairs. He grabbed my arm once more and forcefully moved me so I now stood in front of the chair furthest from the door. I sat down before he could do anything, but it didn’t seem to appease him. If anything, it only aggravated him as he yanked my arms back and then I was handcuffed. I felt him hook the chain between the cuffs and then my wrists were forced against the back of the chair. I felt cool metal and the fabric of my own jacket.

  “That seems rather excessive,” Mathias’ cool words filled the silence. I kept my gaze on my lap instead of looking at him, but it still gave me a little comfort knowing he was in the room.

  Warden Bergman, on the other hand, didn’t sound the least bit comforted by Mathias’ presence. If anything he sounded livid as he hissed, “You shouldn’t be in here. You are biased in her favor, and therefore have been compromised.”

  “For a warden, you speak a lot like men I know in Weard.” Mathias’ tone remained cool and steady as he added, “Since she has not been convicted and you have chosen to detain her in a room with no video cameras, protocol demands the presence of at least one additional security personnel in the room. The courts do not accept less than two witnesses to a confession, if you recall. Therefore, I will be staying.”

  The chief warden cursed then snarled, “Fine. Stay out of my way and don’t attempt to help her.” He stomped toward the still open door and roared, “Bring it faster!”

  Mathias said nothing as he walked past me and then circled behind me. When Warden Bergman came stomping back, he carried a tablet with him. When he stopped walking but didn’t speak, I glanced up to find him glaring at something behind me. It seemed that Mathias had stationed himself in the corner directly behind me. Bergman finally moved to sit in the chair opposite me, his face contorted with disgust as he turned the tablet toward me. “Explain this.”

  A video appeared on the screen. It showed me sitting in the fourth floor common room with all the secretaries and personal assistants for fourth through seventh floors. We were listening to Sharon and most of us were taking notes. I frowned at the screen trying to remember when that had happened. It must have been in August, maybe the first week, right before Mathias showed up at the firm. That was the last time we had all gathered for administrative updates. Mathias had been mentioned as the security consultant coming on board. I had been rattled when it was announced. In the video, I noted my pen stilling as I looked up and the other secretaries started whispering to each other. Sharon clapped her hands and order was immediately restored. Then, we were all standing. We had been dismissed. I stood with the others and quickly left the room . . . but, I had forgotten my notebook. When I went to stuff it in my bag, it had fallen to the floor between our chairs instead.

  The video stopped playing and then Warden Bergman was showing me photographs of handwritten pages. He leaned forward holding the tablet in front of my nose. “Do these look familiar to you, Miss Hope?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen them before this moment.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Look closer.” He zoomed in on one photograph, and I was able to read the writ
ing. It was a plan to disrupt the annual gathering of the Fae courts at Yellowstone. Something that would easily destroy Halliman’s reputation amongst the paranormal community. “Are you sure you don’t recognize these?”

  “I’m certain. And, I don’t understand why you’re asking me about these papers,” I said as calmly and as steadily as I could. My heart was beating faster and panic’s wings were an even faster flutter against my ribs. This was bad. I knew it was bad. But I had to keep calm.

  “Are you going to deny that is you in the video losing the notebook as well?”

  “No.” I met Warden Bergman’s steely gaze as I continued with a steadiness I certainly didn’t feel, “I have no reason to deny that I did lose that notebook during our meeting. But, I don’t see how that ties in with these papers you’re showing me. I’ve never seen the papers before now. If I had, I would have turned them in to security at once.”

  “You’re lying, Miss Hope.”

  “I am not lying, Warden Bergman. I am telling you the truth. The notebook is mine and I lost it during a meeting, which was annoying because all my notes about the changes affecting my work were in there.”

  Warden Bergman suddenly leaned back in his chair, a smug light entering his eyes, as he said, “So, you admit that you put your plans in the notebook.”

  I stared at him for a long moment. It sounded right, but something in his eyes kept me from simply agreeing with him. My gaze darted to the space above his head. The 6 was there, but it was flickering and I caught glimpses of a 7. This was very bad. The danger to my life was increasing with this change in conversation. I looked back into his eyes and said carefully, “I took notes during the meeting for the purpose of my job as a secretary at Halliman’s, no more and no less.”

  “Ah.” He leaned forward once more as he asked, “So you had nothing to do with detailing the plans for a trifold attack on Halliman’s culminating in the disruption of the Yule gathering at Yellowstone? And you had nothing to do with these papers detailing the exact steps for disrupting Yellowstone? Even though they were discovered in the false bottom of your desk?”

  I stared at him. “False bottom? Attacks? I have no idea what you are talking about, Warden Bergman. I am most certainly not involved in any sort of plots against Halliman’s.”

  “Really? You were named as the responsible party in Harry Smalls’ attack on the seventh floor of Halliman’s presumably because you wanted him to cripple logistics, but you got in the way of your own pawn. Then, you were involved in a scuffle with a Lamia’s thrall after you had been working on the exec level for several weeks, almost a month really, which I find rather suspicious since you were the only one who was even interested in that job after the Harry Smalls’ attack. And, you were calm too. Cool and collected, a true professional.”

  “It’s not a crime to come to work,” I said softly.

  Bergman smirked. “Of course, you no doubt had such a professional demeanor because you knew there wouldn’t be another attack. Then, you arranged for a Lamia’s thrall to attack you in the parking garage. An incident I had to hush up as fast as possible to prevent it from damaging the firm’s reputation.”

  “I don’t know any Lamia, much less how to contact one of their thralls,” I stated tightly. “Why would I do that?”

  “Oh I don’t know. Maybe your unwitting fool in security here told you something that made you worry people were going to suspect you. Maybe you just wanted to distance yourself from Yellowstone so you could avoid the attack, select some hapless girl to take your place, and send her to the slaughter with the rest of them.”

  “I wouldn’t do any of that!”

  Bergman ignored my protest speaking over me as he continued, “Either way, you wanted a reason to get off the executive level before the trip to Yellowstone. Suffering the attack by a Lamia’s thrall before he can poison you, that would be enough to scare off anyone much less a little . . .” He trailed off and then eyed me closely. “What is your species?”

  “I am not obliged to give you that information,” I murmured. “I didn’t arrange for an attack by the thrall. The only reason he didn’t succeed in his attack is because he was stopped.”

  “Yes, I read the incident report. Shipped the thrall off to New Orleans too before people found out he had been at Halliman’s. Saved the firm a great deal of bad press.” Bergman’s eyes flickered to Mathias and then he was glaring at me again. “Who else is involved?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You were the ground contact or were you running the entire operation?”

  “What? Neither. I didn’t do anything to provoke attacks. I don’t arrange attacks.”

  The blow came so fast that I didn’t see it. My cheek stung and my ear rang as my head was knocked to the side. Bergman shouted, “You’re lying!”

  I lifted my head, blinking him back into focus as I answered shakily, “No, I am not. I don’t know anything about this. The first I’ve heard of it is when you showed me those photos. That’s it. I am not involved. I have never been involved.”

  Bergman raised his hand again and I flinched. Mathias’ cold voice sliced through the tension riddled air. “Don’t touch her again, Bergman. Getting answers will not be worth a beating.”

  Bergman glared above my head at where Mathias was apparently still standing and he lowered his hand. A beep came from the tablet he was holding and Bergman scowled at the screen. Then, he abruptly stood and walked out of the cell leaving me alone with Mathias. I watched the door slide back into place, sealing the room once more, and then released a shaky breath.

  Mathias came into my field of vision, but he didn’t come near. Instead, he went and stood with his back against the opposite wall now. His arms folded over his chest, he watched me with a cool impassiveness that silently warned against attempting to engage in conversation. I let out a shaky breath as I shifted in the chair as much as I could with my handcuffs attached to the back.

  How was I going to get out of here? The only good thing I had heard so far was that they didn’t believe Beth was more than a pawn in my apparently nefarious schemes. I closed my eyes as I tried to figure out how they had done this. Well, other than planting evidence to use against me. But who had been responsible? Was it Mathias?

  I opened my eyes meeting Mathias’ unreadable ones. My heart said he couldn’t have done this, that I knew him too well to believe it. My head . . . My head was screaming he was a 10 and employed by Weard. If he hadn’t broken from them, then I shouldn’t be trusting him. I had already trusted him too much. And, that thought bothered me even more than the accusations being stacked against me. I didn’t want to be wrong about Mathias.

  The door opened, and I looked away from Mathias only to stiffen as the newcomer stepped into the cell. The newcomer’s dangerous aura filled the small cell with a suffocating intensity as I took in the strong jaw and crooked nose that had been broken at least once, the cold brown eyes that still reminded me of pebbles, and his shaved head with Celtic tribal tattoos stamped in blue on the left side of his scalp. He was tall and broad through the shoulders, and I had been correct when I guessed at his number. A golden 7 glowed above his head.

  In his hand, he held a bagged notebook that I suspected he would say was mine. He offered me a smile that reminded me of a crocodile. “Good morning, Miss Hope. I must say it is not every day I have the privilege of meeting a Spotter and one so young and pretty too. Must be why Mathias didn’t tell his handler about you. Or he simply didn’t have the experience to recognize a Spotter.”

  I only stared at the man. It took everything in my power not to look at his number again. The threatening air around him only seemed to thicken as he got closer. He sat on the edge of the chair, putting himself so close to me that our knees were nearly brushing, as he leaned toward me. “Now, Miss Hope, my name is Oscar Reubens. I hope Bergman wasn’t too harsh with you. When we recruited him, he seemed much more even keeled, but you just never about some people, do you?”

 
I blinked at him and my gaze darted to Mathias. He stood stiff against the wall, arms still crossed and expression wiped of any emotion, but something in his bearing made me certain he knew Oscar Reubens. Wait . . . Wait, he had called Reubens by name after I turned off the broadcast. They hadn’t been showing his name when I watched so the only way he knew Reubens’ name was by knowing Reubens. Something told me this was not a good thing.

  “Yes, Mathias isn’t what he appears either,” Reubens chuckled, drawing my attention back to him. “You see he is Weard Enterprises’ premiere hunter, the best of the best. Some would even say he is the most efficient and vicious of our hunters. I myself disagree with that assessment, but I’m more than a hunter now. I am in a position to find out the truth and to make a decision on what happens based on that truth.”

  He held up the bagged notebook. “Today, I’m here for this truth and I would very much like you to tell me everything you know.”

  “I don’t know anything. There is nothing to tell.”

  “There will be.”

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mathias

  Reubens should not have come. It was a struggle to keep my expression blank when the man began talking to Lauren. I couldn’t warn her that he was still hunting, still trying to trip her into making a confession. I had been struggling with the urge not to tear Bergman apart when he dared to slap Lauren, the cold spark of justice wanting nothing more than an eye for an eye, but I didn’t dare touch him. Instead, I had only been able to warn him. It was a small mercy that the man actually acknowledged the promise in my voice. Valkyrie blood no doubt made him reckless, and I wondered again if he was a berserker but in the end it didn’t matter because he left the room.

 

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