Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “Then you know why we were spared,” Lauren asked with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

  “Yes. And no.” The dragon prince waved a hand to her consort who took out a small tablet and showed it to us. A picture of Lauren surrounded by draconic script appeared before he turned it away once more. The dragon prince nodded to the tablet as she continued, “Prince Ciril of Thrace sent out a warning to all the dragon princes of the Mediterranean region that you, Lauren Hope, were to be protected at all costs from the hunters sent by Weard. He did not mention that you would be travelling in the company of a man once counted among them. I have captured four hunters, including one today, since just before you arrived in my city. And, I grow tired of being forced to do so.”

  Lauren’s dark gaze darted to me before instantly returning to the dragons. It flicked to the areas above their heads for a brief moment. She dropped her gaze once more and licked her lips. “We are grateful to have benefited from your prowess in protecting your territory, great one.”

  “Oh I am certain you are,” the dragon prince responded, her alto voice dropping to a rough purr, “but now something must be done about the two of you.”

  I stepped forward only for the consort to do the same, a warning look in his eyes. Lauren didn’t look at me, however. Her gaze remained fixed on the dragon prince. Her tone was cautious when she asked, “Do you have a particular idea in mind already, great one? Or may we . . . negotiate?”

  The dragon prince reached up to play with one of her pearl and opal earrings, a too satisfied smile playing across her lips. “How quickly you learn, little Spotter. The situation with Weard grows more . . . annoying by the day. We have reached out to the water dragons. And, together, we are in the midst of laying down formal sanctions against Weard Enterprises. We have even reached out to Auberon and that stubborn furry shifter king. Fortunately, the Fae have some sway over Caderyn though he complains that he has enough problems with rebellious factions without adding a quarrel with Weard.” She raised a hand in mild exasperation. “No doubt we shall have to send an ambassador of our own to St. Augustine.”

  “I assume you do not wish for us to go on your behalf,” Lauren said quietly.

  The other woman let out a laugh. “No. Though the idea does amuse me. No, I have something different in mind. Something that could prove beneficial to all involved.”

  “What is it you want from us?” Lauren asked.

  “What I want is not from you. Though, I suspect you would be an advantage in this coming war.” The dragon prince turned her gaze to me with Lauren’s following. The dragon nodded to me. “The council has been discussing our options. I do not like most of what is said. I believe we will need something more than mere sanctions to curb the ambitions of whoever is in charge of Weard. No one seems to know who he is. Only that he has replaced all of upper management. One way or another.”

  “We don’t know who he is either,” I pointed out. “I hadn’t returned to headquarters between the changing of leadership and my decision to . . . retire.”

  “However, we suspect a rogue dragon to be the most likely person,” Lauren quickly interjected.

  I frowned at her. It would have been better if she hadn’t mentioned the inevitable sore spot of rogues. Dragon princes in particular could be . . . tetchy about the matter.

  The dragon prince raised a meticulously groomed eyebrow and nodded. “There are some among the council who agree with that theory. But, none of our operatives have been able to get close enough to confirm. Which is why I want you, abomination.”

  My brow furrowed, and I shook my head slightly. “I’m . . . flattered? What is it exactly that you believe I can do for you?”

  “You are a Myrmidon. You are bred for war, for strategy, for every cunning ruthless skill we shall need in order to stop Weard before our entire world is exposed.” The dragon prince glanced over me and added, “I want you to work for me, for the council. Your knowledge of Weard is a priceless advantage. Combined with your very nature as one of the deadliest in the paranormal world, it is a reasonable belief that you would serve as an invaluable asset.”

  “No.”

  The dragon prince pursed her lips, then clicked her tongue. “Come now, Myrmidon. Don’t make decisions in haste. It never serves your kind well.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’ve been caught in the wars between dragons before, and I won’t do it again. As I said, I’m retired from this sort of mess.”

  I motioned to Lauren who thankfully crossed to my side. Her hand slipped inside my left and I grasped it firmly, using the heat of our contact to push back the icy wrath that had once more crept over me at the memories. I offered a slight bow to the dragon prince and stepped back only to pause when she spoke once more. “Does Weard still hold sway over your loyalty, Myrmidon?”

  “As I said, great prince, I retired. There is only one on this earth who holds my loyalty these days.”

  “And who is that?”

  My grip tightened on Lauren’s hand even as I offered a mocking smile. “My wife. Naturally. We thank you for your hospitality. Now, we shall be leaving. Don’t worry, we won’t stay in Venice past sunup.”

  I started backing away, Lauren in step with me, with the dragon prince studying us both far too closely. Her tone was contemplative when she opened her mouth and murmured, “To leave one’s loyalty to a single person is so . . . vulnerable, Myrmidon. Your kind should know better. For it was the Myrmidons who were the first to enforce loyalty by means of a mate, was it not?”

  I stopped still and met her gaze as I pulled Lauren directly behind me. “You can have Lauren when I’m dead. Not a moment before and if you try, you must trust that my rage will be unstoppable, and I won’t care whose side gets in my way. I won’t be able to care.”

  Lauren’s fingers wiggled within my grasp, and I eased my hold. Then she clung to my hand with more fervor, nails digging into the back of my hand. The pressure was enough for me to break my gaze with the dragon. Looking down, I met Lauren’s wide eyes. She gave the faintest shake of her head. I closed my eyes for a moment and offered a slight nod in return.

  When I turned back to the dragon prince, I managed to push more civility into my voice as I raised my free hand. “It seems we are now at an impasse. Have we leave to go?”

  “Provided you leave my city no later than sunup.” The dragon prince glanced at Lauren and added, “I hope for all our sakes that your trust in this abomination is not misplaced. And, that you will not hesitate to use that which is within you. It stirs now, but you will need to awaken it fully if you wish to have the power to withstand this coming storm.”

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Lauren

  The dragon prince was generous enough to lend us an escort back to our safe house. If I hadn’t already been torn between anger and worry, I might have been just a little bit amused at the pinched expression Mathias wore when the two 8s politely gestured for us to enter the house. As soon as we were inside the house, however, Mathias turned the pinched expression on me. “We had a plan.”

  “Yes, one that was meant for when we were separated in a crowd due to evading Weard’s hunters. Not you being led off to the dragon prince.” I dug through my go bag to find the first aid kit as I added, “What were you thinking? Antagonizing her?”

  “I had everything under control,” came the smooth reply.

  I cast him a dirty look. “Did you?” Opening the kit with a bit more force than necessary, I pulled out the disinfectant and a clean cloth. Then, I pointed at him. “Sit, so I can reach.”

  Mathias let out a sigh, but didn’t resist as he perched on the edge of the bed. His blue-green eyes studied my face closely as I cleaned away the drying blood. “What on earth possessed you to come running into the lair of a royal dragon?”

  “They had taken you, and I have fought too hard to just stand by.” I frowned at him as I cleaned the last of the blood from his throat. “Antagonizing a royal dragon is a death wi
sh. Even a 10 like you should know that. How could you call that ‘under control’?”

  “They weren’t 10s were they?”

  His tone was so light and casual I wanted to smack someone . . . like him. I glared at him. “Mathias, they were both 9s and for your information, two 9s make 18, which is always greater than a single 10.”

  The side of his mouth pulled up into the little half smile that normally warmed me from head to toe. He shrugged. “I don’t think the numbers work that way. Otherwise, 10s wouldn’t be quite so feared.”

  “If you had unleashed the Myrmidons’ cold fury on the dragon prince and her consort, you would have destroyed everything we fought for up to this point,” I stated quietly. My hands were trembling as I dabbed the disinfectant along either side of his chin. The memory of the dragon prince with her claws cutting into his skin brought back the terror of that moment. The thought of losing him had struck me harder than having to march into the room and call the attention of two 9s to myself. I didn’t even want to imagine what would have happened if I’d lost him.

  “Lauren, sweetheart,” he reached up to still my fingers, “I would never do anything like that. No matter how bothersome a dragon decides to be.” His eyes glowed with sincerity as he brought my palms close enough to kiss them. “Trust me?”

  “Yes.” I paused a deliberate beat then added, “I still think you were an idiot in there.”

  He grinned. “That’s fair.”

  “And from now on, should we need to enter a dragon’s territory, I want you to carefully consider what happened here and not repeat it.” I pointed a finger at him as I added, “Because if you do, Mathias, so help me, I will find a way to sneak in again and throw something heavy at your head. I went to Greece for you!”

  He grabbed my hand again and placed a kiss against my extended finger. Then, he grinned as he pulled me into his lap. Wrapping his arms around me, he hugged me close. “Yes, you did. I promise no more Greece. Although, I rather thought you enjoyed your trip to Sparta.”

  Despite my efforts to remain annoyed with him, the blood rushing to my cheeks rather defeated me. I rolled my eyes at him. “You can’t behave at all, can you?”

  “Not particularly,” he murmured in agreement.

  He leaned in for a kiss and I touched a finger to his lips instead. “Don’t we have a deadline?”

  “Forget the deadline. And dragons,” he grumbled as he pushed my finger away. His gaze dropped to my lips. “I know exactly what I want to do next.”

  “Mathias, we have to figure out a destination.”

  “Naples is always nice. Or Verona. Unless you would prefer to go to Pisa?” He leaned in again, but this time angled his head down to trail kisses along my neck.

  “Mathias, I really need you to focus.” He was making it rather difficult to think at the moment.

  “I am focused,” he murmured between kisses.

  “Wrong kind of focused.”

  He pulled back slightly and offered a sly smile that nearly took my breath away. “I can think of other areas to focus on if you prefer.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of my jaw, then to the right of my mouth.

  My resolve weakened with every kiss. With more effort than usual, I pulled myself out of his arms and his lap. “Mathias, please behave.” Taking a steadying breath, I turned to face him and lowered my voice in case the so called escort still lingered. “The seer saw something. Aside from the fact he kept calling me the . . . Destroyer.” I swept my hair back out of my eyes as I recalled the seer’s exact words. “He said I would find the answers to my past or the path to finding them in the seven hills.”

  Mathias frowned, play forgotten, as he rose to his feet. “What did he say exactly?”

  The memory of the seer’s words had been imprinted on my mind with such force that they rose readily when summoned. My throat tightened as I forced the words out in a low whisper, “The Destroyer must travel to the seven hills. There she will find the one called Raz Yakov. He will set her path before her feet.”

  “Raz Yakov?” Mathias’ brow furrowed for several moments before he shook his head. “I don’t know the name, which could mean he hasn’t come to Weard’s attention or merely that I was never in a meeting about him.”

  I nodded, mind racing ahead to the next and most important piece. “But, the seven hills? You know where that must mean, yes?”

  “Roma,” Mathias muttered. He grabbed our go bags and slung them over his shoulder. “All right, I would have preferred Tuscany. More wine. However, Rome is a place where we will most definitely not run into any more dragon princes so let’s be off.”

  Not running into more dragon princes certainly sounded like a relief to me. I would prefer not having to worry about rescuing Mathias from himself. Or from any irate royals. And despite my misgivings about how he had handled himself tonight, I couldn’t help feeling that Mathias would definitely be safer if I could keep him out of the company of dragons. Especially those who wanted to use him in a brewing dragon war.

  I prayed that God would show us a little mercy this time. Going to Rome was a risk. All I wanted was to get in, find this Raz Yakov, and then find my past. Without falling prey to hunters or being sought out by dragons again. One powerful and dangerous paranormal in my life was more than enough, thank you.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Lauren

  I tended to stay less than well versed about the powerful paranormals, outside of knowing what areas of the world to avoid. I knew to avoid Greece as the birthplace of so many paranormal species, and a place where the paranormal world did not attempt to blend as much into the background of the norm’s myths and legends. Not that I was very successful at staying out of Greece this year since the Trials of Achilles required me to trace the journey of Mathias’ people, the Myrmidons, from their exile in Thrace to Troy and then to their ancient home of Thessaly. However, Greece was not the only stronghold of the ancient paranormal community.

  Rome was one of the oldest mixed societies in the paranormal community outside of Greece. Here, there were no dragon princes to hold the territory. Norms held a few key roles of leadership while ancient species held sway over the rest. A careful rotation of power resisting all attempts to sway Rome’s official position of utter neutrality. And, a large number of powerful high numbers flocked to Roman streets to conduct their business, sometimes with the aid of a glamour and other times without.

  I held a small camera in one hand as I stared across the width of the Trevi Fountain. So many golden numbers glimmered above the crowds of tourists and locals alike. They blurred worse than they had in Venice. But, I could still make out enough of them to retain the sense of my skin crawling with nerves. So many 7s, so many 8s. Even a few 9s. How could a single city be so heavily tilted toward the high end numbers?

  A mix of species, some I knew were paranormal only because of their numbers, and languages. So many people chattering at the same time that it was almost impossible to pick out a single conversation without being obvious or a species blessed with enhanced hearing. Even standing in the corner near the back of the fountain wasn’t completely out of the way. Although, I took care to keep my gaze fixed on the fountain, occasionally snapping pictures, while desperately hoping no one with a connection to Weard would see me.

  The appearance of a 7 out of the corner of my eye sent my heart hammering against my ribs like a panicked bird. The woman’s coppery red hair was twisted and braided into an elaborate chignon, and her slightly pointed ears gave away her heritage as a High Elf. She was tall too, much closer to Mathias’ height than my five foot two. Then she gave me an odd look, hazel green eyes speculative and . . . lightening to gold.

  Oh no.

  I dropped my gaze to the camera, pretending to check it, as I took a single deep breath. I had to regulate my breathing, my heart rate. Anything to keep the shifter beside me from realizing that I was absolutely petrified or my identity. After messing with the camera and almost dropping it into t
he fountain, I raised it to take a picture of the statue of Oceanus. And another.

  A phone rang making me jump. I barely caught the camera before it fell into the water and quickly clutched it to my chest as the shifter beside me pulled out her phone. A bright grin that seemed too . . . normal for a high number to wear, despite my knowing a 10, appeared on her face when she answered with a purr, “Tigger, you got my message!”

  “What have I told you about rearranging my office, you little mouse?”

  The woman laughed low, her smile never wavering despite the growling voice that sent a chill up and down my spine. “And, I thought you were calling to declare your undying love for me in a rather dramatic fashion. Do you miss me?”

  “No,” came the deadpan retort.

  The elf-born shifter clicked her tongue then chided, “That’s a very mean thing to say to your mate, Tigger.”

  “Yet, you rearranged my office before going to the Old World.”

  She smiled wider. “I knew you would be lonely so I left a couple reminders of my endearing presence to ease your sorrow during our current separation.”

  “Woman, you are a lunatic.”

  I had to agree with him. Although, there was a hint of fondness beneath his growled exasperation. Looking through the camera lens, I caught a glimpse of Mathias. I almost didn’t recognize him at first without the benefit of seeing his number. Thank God, he was back and in one piece.

  I glanced at the redheaded shifter once more and carefully backed up so I could scoot around her. She glanced at me again though her attention seemed mostly focused on teasing her mate. A man whose growls confirmed he was also a shifter. Shifters tended to be a very emotional and volatile group of paranormals. I had always gone out of my way to avoid the ones who worked at Halliman’s simply because they brought a level of stress with their complicated politics and loyalties that always left me a quivering mess. I couldn’t imagine being stuck with one as a mate, especially one of the more powerful ones.