Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  The sprite and the satyr exchanged befuddled glances. I suddenly realized I had lapsed into Turkish and, apparently, these two did not understand me. Mathias couldn’t quite hide his grimace as he picked up his sword. He quickly translated what I had said into Italian.

  The sprite lowered the shot though her expression carried her disapproval. “All competitors may leave of their own will, if able.”

  “Good. I am able.” Mathias turned his attention to the satyr. “Show us the fastest way out.”

  As we followed the satyr, who nearly tripped over his own cloven hooves to accommodate us, I couldn’t help grabbing Mathias’ hand and giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed back before letting go. I glanced up at his bruised and cut face. The matter of Raz Yakov and everything else would have to wait. For a little while at least.

  * * *

  Lauren

  I quietly closed the door behind room service, keeping the collar of my robe closed tight with one hand. After locking the door back, I carried the tray of a café worthy breakfast into the bedroom. Mathias was still sprawled on his back, right arm covering his face. My gaze dropped to his ribs. They were purple and yellow tinged with green today. A week after the fights, and I could still see the long scratches left by the lion’s claws too. Although, those were scabbed over now.

  “I told you I am doing quite well.”

  “You’re British. Your leg could be falling off, and you would still say that,” I retorted.

  “I thought that was because I’m male. Isn’t that what you said yesterday, love?”

  I shook my head. He might have wanted me to smile, but I simply couldn’t bear it. His injuries had been absolutely terrible when I finally got him back to the hotel and was able to look him over. “It’s both.” I set the bed tray down across his lap. “You need to eat. It’s cappuccinos and cornettos covered with powdered sugar today.”

  “What Italians have against a nice cuppa earl grey, I’ll never know,” Mathias groaned as he lowered his arm.

  A faint smile curved my lips. If he was feeling well enough to protest the lack of his favorite tea, he was finally improving. I leaned down to kiss his cheek, careful to avoid the fading bruises. A narrow cut still decorated the bridge of his nose, and his black eye was finally fading so he looked a little more himself today. Perching on the edge of the bed, I picked up one of the cornettos and took a nibbling bite.

  “Lauren.”

  I lowered my pastry and studied him. He hadn’t been breathing oddly. “Do you need more of the pain medication? We still have another day or two left of it.”

  Mathias grimaced. “No. No more pain medication. Dulls my senses too much.”

  He had been in so much pain the first two days after the fights, he had needed his senses dulled. I resisted pointing that out, however. He hadn’t quite forgiven me for even getting pain medication from a paranormal healer. Even though I had been careful to walk into the market from a different direction, and to leave by an entirely different route before finally making my way back to the hotel.

  “Lauren, we need to talk about what happened with Yakov.”

  This time I was the one who grimaced. I had finally told him what happened in the hypogeum. To say he had not been pleased to learn I gave up our names and heritage was something of an understatement. Worse, he had been disappointed.

  “Mathias,” I began only to stop when he raised his hand.

  “Hear me out, please.” He studied me for a moment before sighing. “I am the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have called it foolish. Secrets like the one Yakov was carrying would naturally require an equal secret to be revealed. You said you felt he was of no danger to us.”

  I leaned toward him as I nodded. Placing my half eaten pastry back on the tray, I brushed my hands off before clasping his left hand. Rubbing my thumb against the back of his hand, I stated softly, “Yes. I promise you I never would have given anything up if I wasn’t certain he meant us no harm. His number never changed. He was watching mine too. We remained 3s, which is what Spotters should be based on what I know.”

  “Did you ask him about being related to a high number?”

  “No. I don’t see how it’s possible. Being a Spotter is a recessive talent so surely whatever talent a high number brought to the child would overwhelm the Spotter talent.” I hesitated then added, “I think the 9 was there to take my mother away. That it was my fault somehow. I just . . . I can’t remember enough to know how other than . . . I think I forgot to be careful about the numbers.”

  Mathias’ brows lowered. “You blame yourself?”

  I couldn’t quite meet his eyes as I shrugged. “I don’t see how it wasn’t me. Otherwise, why would they leave me? Unless, I made it too dangerous for us to stay together. For them to stay with me.”

  “You were only a child.”

  I shook my head and offered a trembling smile. “It does not matter. What matters is there’s a chance I can at least find out something about my people.”

  “Are you certain?” Mathias waved his hand at me. “You barely survived the unfortunate detour of the games to speak to Raz Yakov. Yet, you want us to go to Mount Vesuvius to poke around in the ash for anything that remains of the Spotter settlement, then you want to bring that information back to Raz Yakov. Why? Why not stop now, and we can go into hiding somewhere warm and tropical and not anywhere near Italy or Greece?”

  It was tempting. Hiding somewhere no one would find us. Finally, being able to stop running. I brushed my thumb over the back of his hand and sighed. Meeting his patient gaze, I shrugged helplessly. “I can’t, Mathias. Not yet. I need . . . I need answers. I need to know where I came from and why I am the way that I am. You have had that all your life. But, I haven’t and if for some reason my parents weren’t also Spotters, then I need to understand why I have my talent at all. Because it doesn’t make sense for me to have it if that is the truth of my heritage.”

  When he didn’t say anything, I raised his hand up to my lips. I kissed his fingers, then rested my cheek on them as I met his eyes. “I do not ask for trials. Just a small detour to find some scrolls.”

  He offered a crooked smile. “Are you planning to hold the Trials of Achilles over me for the rest of our life together?”

  “Just the first half, then you’ll do something else for me to hold over you,” I teased.

  Mathias chuckled then winced. “We can leave tomorrow.”

  I shook my head. “Nice try, but no. The healers said two weeks of rest. It’s barely been one.”

  “Then, we can go in two days when the reservation ends.”

  “Fine. But if you fall apart, I’m leaving you on your shield.”

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Mathias

  I kept an eye on Lauren as I drove the lorry down the road. She had cried in her sleep for the last five nights. Something that bothered me, a lot. Then, she hadn’t said a word today when we finally left Roma for Naples. Not even when I allowed the porter to store our go bags instead of doing it myself. Although, she had given me a look. One that usually meant she would have something to say when we were in private again. But she hadn’t said a word, not even when I decided to take a lorry to Vesuvius instead of waiting around for a bus or another train ride.

  The sun beat down with steady heat and my side still ached, but I was fairly certain it was fine. Or, it would be soon in any case. Nothing to worry about. I glanced over at Lauren where she sat staring out the window. “I didn’t think it would bother you this much. Possibly having a father who was a 9, I mean.”

  Lauren stirred then looked over at me, brushing her hair back from her face. Dark eyes studied mine before she shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Mathias. I just . . . Most high numbers terrify me, always have, and they still do. Roma was torture for me. You are different from other high numbers. You don’t have the same feel of power or danger, not the way I feel with other high numbers. They have a sort of presence th
at overwhelms and suffocates, power spilling over, the threat of imminent danger spilling over, and it is all the time.”

  “You don’t feel that with me?” I glanced from the road to her, then back to the road as I was forced to hug the side to allow a lorry stuffed with live chickens in crates to pass in the opposite direction. And Lauren complained about the traffic in Roma. “Lauren? You don’t feel that with me.”

  “No. It’s easy to forget with you until I look up. You carry yourself in a way that . . . It’s not friendly or harmless, but it’s not scary either. It’s a sense of protection. Most high numbers simply don’t do that, they don’t try to make less powerful paranormals feel . . . comfortable or safe.”

  Lauren drummed her fingers against her leg before continuing, “It’s not just the fact that my talent shouldn’t be possible if I have a father who was a 9. It’s that I don’t know. I can’t remember. Not clearly enough anyway. High numbers have always meant danger until you. You’re the exception, not the rule. And . . . It’s the not knowing that bothers me. I don’t know if this man with the 9 was my father or an enemy who caught my mother and separated us or something else entirely.”

  “Not knowing is difficult. I can understand that much.” I hesitated and then held my hand out to her. “No matter what we do or do not find in Herculaneum, I want you to know I am here for you. Always.”

  She gave me a look, but didn’t admonish the promise as too lofty. Which it was, I knew. However, I wanted to give it to Lauren. More than anything, she needed that promise and I wanted nothing more than to be the one to give it to her. When she set her hand in mine, I couldn’t help feeling more victorious than any grand game in the Colosseum could have made me feel. I kissed her hand. “After this, love, we are going on a true holiday, and we’re going to stay there.”

  Now she smiled as I had hoped. “Oh really? And, just where are we holidaying?”

  “I hear New Zealand is nice. Lots of little islands in that area of the Pacific where a person or two could get lost for a few years before anyone notices.”

  “You want to go on a semi-permanent vacation on a deserted island. Are you serious?”

  I grinned at her, laughing under my breath. “Sounds like a plan to me. And if, oh say, one or two more people should show up while we’re on holiday, well, that would be all right with me.”

  Lauren shook her head, laughing softly. “Mathias, I’m starting to think you have taken far too many hits on the head in recent months. One or two, hmm? Will they be boys or girls joining us on the deserted island?”

  “I rather like the idea of both,” I mused. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel before continuing, “I must admit I was thinking more along the lines of a final tally of oh six or seven.”

  “Children?” she squeaked.

  “I don’t think we’d be allowed to have that many dogs on the island. Especially if it’s a smaller one.” I grinned at Lauren. “Come on, tell me you haven’t had any plans for our future.”

  “Surviving the next few months always sounded good to me.” Lauren glanced from me to the road. “Is this really best time to talk children?”

  “What else is there to talk about?” I teased. “Names?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Very funny. While I’m sure you have ideas about the names of your imaginary children too, I was thinking more about what we should be looking for in Pompeii.”

  “Herculaneum,” I corrected.

  Lauren frowned at me. “Yakov said Pompeii. Why would we go to Herculaneum instead? Pompeii is the preserved site.”

  I raised a finger. “Two reasons, love. First and most importantly, what you two Spotters apparently don’t know is that there is a residential task force composed of Weard hunters that is maintained in and patrols Pompeii. Part of the local agreement to keep looters out of the site, primarily norms since there are paranormal artifacts that have yet to be removed from Pompeii. I would greatly prefer to avoid them. Second, Herculaneum while not as well known or popular as Pompeii also has a number of preserved buildings. The most relevant being the Villa of the Papyri. It’s near the shoreline and partially buried still. However, it is also host to one of the largest library collections and the only surviving collection from the ancient world outside of dragon troves. If there is anything left of the lore concerning Spotters, odds are that it will be there.”

  “And who guards Herculaneum?” Lauren asked cautiously.

  “A dragon prince, though he is not in residence at Herculaneum proper. He’s back in Naples.” Catching the way she bit her bottom lip, I chuckled. “Don’t look so worried. I’m sure we can keep you down to only three dragon princes instead of adding a fourth.”

  Lauren reached over and slugged me in the shoulder.

  “Ow. That almost hurt.”

  “You are a very smug man, Mathias. I hope you trip over something because you deserve it,” she retorted.

  Knowing danger when I heard it, I pointed at the sudden change in architecture and the view of the Bay of Naples where modern buildings gave way to more ancient ones beneath the shadow of Vesuvius. “Look, we are almost there. Not bad at all. Fifteen minutes, well, thirty because of the traffic snarl we got stuck in at the city center. It would have taken longer to reach Pompeii.”

  * * *

  Lauren

  Walking through the ancient remains of Herculaneum reminded me of being back in Thrace. Not exactly a fun memory. I looked over at Mathias. He was studying the preserved homes that almost seemed to wait for their occupants to return at any moment. His words about wanting children drifted through my mind before I pushed them back. Now was not the time to think about the future. First, we needed to survive the present.

  The dichotomy of modern Ercolano’s buildings jutting up against and occasionally over the ancient buildings was almost jarring. But the closer we got to the shoreline, the more I noticed the columned terraces instead. Mathias took my hand just as I spied two 8s positioned near the building. Dragons or dragon-born most likely. What if they had been given pictures of me too? What if they stopped us?

  I couldn’t imagine being stopped so close to our goal. Or worse being sent back to Naples to face yet another dragon prince. My grip tightened around Mathias’ hand as we came closer to the men who were clearly guards. They glanced at us, but said nothing as we passed. Still, I couldn’t breathe easily until we stepped inside the ancient stone terrace. The lava flow had been excavated, and I couldn’t help a sense of awe that crept over me with the thought of walking across marbled mosaic floors that had been buried beneath a volcano’s wrath. It was also a touch like walking into a crypt.

  A crypt that was bustling with whispering denizens. People dressed in a mix of white lab coats and civilian clothing gathered in various portions of the large portico. Some were peering at delicate papyrus scrolls. Others were taking pictures or notes. This wasn’t quite what I had expected when coming inside.

  “Good afternoon, Signor and Signora, may I be of service?”

  I managed to pry my attention away from the preserved painted mosaic of Neptune and his wife, Salacia, on the far wall to meet the bright gaze of a man. A 4 glowed above his sandy corkscrew curls that were only partially contained by an olive green bandana. His blue eyes were sharp behind round glasses and his smile equally bright. He wasn’t in a lab coat, but he wore protective gloves. He also spoke Italian with a French accent, which was . . . interesting to hear.

  Quickly summoning a smile, I stepped forward still clinging to Mathias’ hand. Fortunately, he moved with me. “Good afternoon. Are you a docent here?”

  The man nodded. He switched to match my English as he said, “I am. You may call me Daniel. Like many of the docent here in Herculaneum, I am a Lore keeper. Are you searching for something specific?”

  “Yes, although I am not certain if the information survived this long.” I hesitated only half a blink before I forced myself to continue with careful lightness even as I strangled Mathias’ hand. �
��I heard tell of a story that there was once a community of Spotters in Herculaneum. And, that they kept all of their lore here. Do you know if this is true?”

  The docent’s jaw dropped, and then he peeked over his shoulder furtively. No one else was paying attention to us. He nodded, then beckoned to me. “Come. There are still answers, but they are hidden with care. Come please.”

  I followed him, barely noticing that I was still keeping a stranglehold on Mathias’ hand. Daniel led us past several study areas and knots of docents mixed with civilians. Teaching and sharing knowledge about the ancient city; although, I didn’t hear even one of them mentioning Spotters. Which actually shouldn’t have been unexpected.

  Daniel began talking again as we entered an area of the villa where sunlight no longer filtered in through the columns. “This is an area that’s closed off to most people. Norms don’t know that we’ve excavated it at all. They think it’s completely buried beneath the volcanic deposits still. And, even most paranormals don’t know we’re this far underneath the deposits. We believe a glamour was tampered with to preserve the papyri in this portion of the villa. They confirm that the villa was more than a rich man’s private library and seashore retreat. The Spotters treated it as a hall of knowledge so to speak.”

  A hall of knowledge . . . It was absolutely . . . astonishing to even think that my ancestors had once been numerous enough to have a town, much less an entire hall of knowledge. And somehow, by some miracle, it hadn’t been lost to Vesuvius’ fury. And, someone had started studying them. Answers were so close that I could hardly believe it.

  “Do you know much about the Spotters?” I asked, almost afraid he would answer with the usual denial.

  Instead, he grinned over his shoulder at me. “We know far more than most people, more than even the average Lore keeper. It seems that Herculaneum was home to the first and possibly the only true community of Spotters before its destruction. In the days of the Republic, there were still dragon princes around, including the ancestor of our benefactor in Naples, and the Spotters were under their protection. Herculaneum became a place where young Spotters were taught their history and received training.”