Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  I stared at him, all the pieces sliding into place with mounting horror. “You are not a Spotter.”

  He laughed. “No. I confess I am not, but you were quite eager to believe otherwise weren’t you?”

  His number was flickering, changing. It wasn’t a harmless 3 anymore. It was a 9 blazing above his head and still flickering to hint at a 10. Oh no! Oh dear God in heaven, what had I done?

  Raz Yakov or whoever he was stood straighter, no longer stooped. He held out his hand to me with an imperious set to his movements now. Steel entered his voice as he demanded, “Now, little Spotter, return the Crown of Nimrod to its rightful owner.”

  Mathias wrapped his hands around me as a tremor shook the ground. All the hunters stumbled, even Khalid. But Raz Yakov barely even swayed, and his form was flickering much like his number had. He must have been using a glamour of some sort to disguise his true appearance. Only now, he didn’t need to pretend. I looked up at Mathias, and then around at the hunters who had already regained their balance.

  We were trapped with eleven powerful paranormals. One of whom I had trusted like a complete and utter fool. And, the glamour shielding us was threatening to collapse. Mathias’ hands tightened on my arms, and I knew he was planning to do something. The problem was, I had a sickening feeling of absolute certainty that Raz Yakov wouldn’t let us escape his clutches unscathed. Certainly, not with the Crown of Nimrod.

  I frantically tried to summon my Jinn talent. It didn’t work. We were still trapped. The ground shook beneath us again. Raz Yakov held out his hand once more. “Surrender the Crown of Nimrod, Lauren Hope. This quest is over and you, my dear foolish Spotter, have lost.”

  * * *

  Fight by Numbers

  Rogue Spotter

  Book Six

  Kimberly A. Rogers

  Dedication

  To everyone who has followed Mathias and Lauren’s journey to the end

  And also Tom Hiddleston

  Chapter One

  Lauren

  Mathias’ hands tightened around my arms, holding me steady as the ground beneath our feet shook with a disturbingly strong tremor. I didn’t want to imagine what would happen to us if the protective glamour shielding the Forge of Hephaestus from the full heat of the magma chamber below failed. Even a minute’s failure would be fatal.

  As fatal as our current situation. I glanced at the ten hunters surrounding us, and the man called Raz Yakov. A man who, apparently, held their leashes. He extended his hand once more, the number floating above his head a terrifying 10 instead of the 3 it was when I met him in the tunnels beneath the Colosseum. A cruel sneer twisted his thin lips as he looked me over. “Surrender the Crown of Nimrod, Lauren Hope. You and your . . . Myrmidon lover will only leave this place should I allow it.”

  I felt Mathias’ breath tickle against my hair as he leaned close to my ear. His words were just barely audible as he ordered in Myrmidon, “Break it apart and be ready.”

  My fingers tightened around the bronze circlet. I never should’ve put it together. How had he tricked me? Far too easily it seemed. I tried to snap the circlet apart, back into the pieces we’d recovered, but the crown resisted. It was the only way to describe the way the metal refused to budge even though I had only connected the pieces a few minutes ago. Numbers briefly flashed across the bronze surface, and the metal seemed to shine a little brighter almost as though . . . it wanted to be used.

  Not that it mattered because I had no intention of doing anything other than breaking it apart. I glanced up to see Raz Yakov watching me with a mocking smile. He wasn’t stooped anymore, his form flickering much like his number had before it changed, and he peered down his hooked nose at me. “Do you think an artifact of such power will easily allow even a Spotter to break it apart again? It was made to be used.”

  “It was made to stop people like you,” I gasped. Panic beat its frantic wings against my ribcage as I continued struggling to pull the pieces of the crown apart. Please let this work, please.

  His laughter was cold as he shook his head. “You are a fool, Lauren Hope. You also don’t seem to understand when you are beaten. Shall I demonstrate? Khalid!”

  Mathias’ grip on my upper arms tightened the tiniest amount. I wanted to grab his sleeves and hold him back from whatever insanity he was about to throw himself into headfirst. It was truly one of the most annoying things about him being a Ten. Always so confident in his ability to win a fight, thinking nothing of provoking other powerful paranormals. A 9 flickered over the head of the hunter called Khalid. I recognized his scarred visage from when we ran into him at the Great Sphinx a little more than two months ago. The scars pulled at his mouth, twisting what I assumed was a hungry smile into a sneer, as his brown eyes flicked to fiery orange. He barked a command in draconic and two other men lunged at us.

  Mathias shoved me toward the only clear opening among the hunters with a hoarse shout to run. He, on the other hand, threw himself into the path of the two hunters. I saw him pull his daggers from his sleeves as he closed the distance and then the hunters screamed in pain.

  I raced for the break between the hunters watching the fight. It wasn’t very big, and if any of them noticed me . . . If I could just summon my Jinn talent, make them miss the fact that I was running by, maybe I could get out. A shout sounded directly behind me and then hands grabbed the collar of my jacket and yanked me back. I choked as the hands switched to squeezing my neck. I twisted and squirmed as I struggled to draw in air past the crushing pressure on my throat. As darkness rimmed my vision, threatening to steal all awareness, I heard Mathias let out a furious yell. I lashed out in desperation, swinging my hands back and up. I felt something warm splatter against my hair and side of my face, then the pressure was gone.

  Stumbling away, I whirled around to see one of the hunters dropping to his knees as he shook his head. Blood streamed from a cut to the bridge of his nose and from his nostrils. It was only then that I realized I had struck him with the crown. Knowing I was wasting precious seconds, I turned to run once more only to find three hunters had moved in front of me. They were armed with guns pointed directly at my heart.

  I didn’t need to see their numbers, the blazing 9s above their heads, to know they were a terrible threat. My grip on the crown tightened, and I once more tugged at it trying in vain to break it apart. The bronze circlet remained utterly unmovable. Why couldn’t I break it apart?

  “Stop fighting, Mathias,” came Raz Yakov’s almost lazy command. “Or, they will kill her here and now.”

  A quick glance over my shoulder showed Mathias had picked up someone’s sword and held it against Khalid’s throat. His blue green gaze flicked to me before he stepped back keeping the sword in hand. He sounded a little winded as he turned his attention to Raz Yakov. “Are you the one who took over management of Weard or are you just another lackey like all the rest?”

  A crazed smile appeared and then vanished as Raz Yakov tilted his head slightly. “I am like no one else still living on this planet. And, you . . .” He tsked. “Our best warrior, our most efficient hunter, and you couldn’t fulfill your mission over a little Spotter. You are a disgrace, Mathias.”

  “Well, some of us do tend to be disappointments.” Mathias jumped forward, sword flashing, as he shouted, “Lauren, run!”

  A hunter lunged between him and Raz Yakov to take the fatal strike. Raz Yakov raised a hand and gestured sharply. “Bring him down.”

  I screamed as the hunters in front of me abruptly turned their weapons on Mathias and fired. Feathered darts sprouted from Mathias’ jacket. He staggered but still fought, compelling more of the hunters to turn their attention to him. I took half a step toward him before forcing myself to turn away. I couldn’t squander what Mathias was doing. I needed to get out of the forge before they overpowered us both.

  A body slammed into me just as I started moving, the heavy weight on my back knocking me to my knees. I kicked my way free and rolled to the side only to find
myself staring into a dragon’s scarred face. Khalid’s brown scales were twisted and sliced by his scars, just as his human face had been, exposing pale flesh between the breaks in the scales. He bared his fangs as he lunged and grasped the crown. I scrambled to break it, attempting to use Khalid’s weight for better leverage, but the only piece I managed to grab hold of was the Sapphire of Shinar. Another hunter crashed into me, just as I dug my nails in around the gem, knocking me off my feet. I barely caught myself before I slammed headfirst into the side of the giant stone tub Hephaestus had used to cool his metalworks. Instead, my shoulders took the brunt of the blow driving the air from my lungs.

  I stayed still for a moment, catching my breath. Every nerve pulsed with the fear that I would be dragged to my feet and back to Weard. No one touched me. I clenched my right hand into a fist as I blinked stinging sweat out of my eyes and then turned my head slightly to peek at the hunters. They were a couple of yards away, with their backs to me, and Khalid was snapping at a half-shifted wolf that was attempting to hold onto the crown. They were too busy squabbling to pay attention to me, maybe because they thought I had been knocked out. Beyond them I could see Mathias still struggling, still fighting, against the hunters who had swarmed to stop him from killing Raz Yakov. That interloper I didn’t see at all. There were too many struggling bodies in the way.

  For half a heartbeat, I hesitated about what to do and then I scrambled to my feet and ran for the second escape tunnel Mathias had identified. By some miracle, I ducked into the tunnel’s mouth without being seen. I couldn’t tell you if it was due to my Jinn talent finally coming into play or sheer luck that everyone’s attention was on either Mathias or the crown. Maybe, it was a mixture of both. All I knew was that I had to get out of the volcano before I was caught and Mathias . . .

  It broke my heart to leave him behind still fighting, but I knew I couldn’t risk it. I wasn’t a strong enough paranormal to win in a fight against dragons and therian shifters. Not to mention, dragon-born and a few of the Unseelie Fae. It would have been the height of stupidity for me to stay. No, the only way I could help Mathias was to remove myself from the situation and allow him to focus on fighting to get away, instead of fighting to protect me.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Lauren

  My lungs were burning when I emerged from the tunnel. I stumbled as the ground shook again and just barely managed to keep from falling. Tumbling down the side of Mount Etna would not be a good thing. Every breath I took was coated in smoke, and I could taste ash in the air. I shoved a hand in my satchel and dug until I could yank out a head shawl. Holding the wadded fabric over my mouth and nose, I looked around in an attempt to gain my bearings.

  The tunnel had emptied out on the side of the volcano just as the map had indicated, but where could I go? I had heard faint shouts behind me in the darkness. Weard’s hunters hadn’t given up the chase. They would be out soon, and there was nowhere to hide. The roofs of the villages and the city of Catania were still below me. I glanced down as my feet sank into something soft . . . snow. Not a lot of it, maybe a couple inches, just enough to coat the sparse grass on the volcano’s side. However, when I looked up at the summit, I could see the white snow on the peak was steadily turning grey.

  I heard a shout from somewhere ahead and to the right. Looking around, I saw three people waving their arms to get my attention. They were shouting in Italian. I could only make out a few words over the sound of my own harsh breathing. Danger, run, hurry, help.

  My feet moved before my mind fully processed what they were saying. Instinct driving me further from the volcano’s summit as smoke formed a billowing plume in the air. My heart was racing as I half ran, half slipped across the damp mix of snow and grass toward the people. Their numbers were all no higher than 6, which meant the odds were better that they weren’t from Weard. So I hoped.

  By the time I reached them, I was running on fumes. My breath came in gasps, and I barely kept upright as they converged on me. The only reassurance I felt was that these people weren’t shifters, no flicker of gold in their eyes or animals ghosted over their faces to obscure their human features, which meant they wouldn’t be able to sniff anything out about me. As we moved a short distance further down the slope, I told them I had fallen trying to get away from the summit and become separated from my family and our guide from Messina. The two women cooed over me and helped me clean the blood from my face. I expected them to question me about the blood until I felt the sting from a cut just above my hairline. Of course, they weren’t shifters so they would have no reason to think the blood wasn’t all mine. Thank God for small favors.

  The sound of chopper blades filled the air just as the volcano shook once more. Relief crossed my unintentional rescuers’ faces as the man stood and waved his arms. The helicopter was deafening as it dropped closer to the ground. It didn’t quite touch down and the blades sent a blast of air mixed with snow and dirt washing over us. I raised my left hand to shield my face as I squinted my eyes. I squeezed my right hand into a tighter fist, feeling my nails dig into my palm, as I staggered to my feet. The dull pain from my hand kept me anchored as I followed the three in a low run toward the hovering helicopter.

  Hoping against hope I kept an eye on the tunnel I’d emerged from, waiting for a 10 to blaze bright. Yet, he never came. Snatches of conversation filled my ears as a tech guided me to sit and secured me. The helicopter team was carrying out evacuations for the scientists and elementals that couldn’t stay to help control the eruption. Meanwhile, fire elementals were swarming around the summit attempting to control the volcano’s fury. The tech finished securing the rest of the group, and then the helicopter rose from its low hover as a figure emerged from the tunnel. I leaned forward, ready to call out to the pilot to wait, but it wasn’t Mathias. The figure was too broad, almost stout, and too short to be Mathias even without being able to see numbers through the helicopter’s windows.

  Leaning back in my seat, I forced my thoughts away from the terrible fears attempting to surge to life. I needed to remember our plan in case we became separated on this part of the quest. We had a plan, Mathias knew the plan, and he . . . he would follow it. I had to believe that, I had to believe that he would follow the plan too.

  I swallowed hard as the helicopter banked away from Mount Etna’s plume of smoke and ash. Flashes of red and orange lit the plume from within, a testament to the eruption gaining strength no doubt. Unable to watch any more of it, I dropped my gaze to my lap. My right hand was cramping from the pressure of being in a fist. I started to open it only to stop when I caught a flash of gold numbers and symbols against a dark blue surface. The Sapphire of Shinar . . .

  I couldn’t believe I had it. Only when I cast my mind back over the final struggle for the crown did I remember gripping the gem before the other hunter slammed into me. The force must have been enough to pop the stone free of its cradle. Although, it was a small miracle that I hadn’t dropped it at some point in my dash through the tunnel. I cast a surreptitious glance at the other passengers, but they were too busy gazing out the windows and comparing notes with the other evacuees in Italian to notice me. Pulling the wadded head shawl out of my jacket pocket, I carefully laid it over my right hand and then rolled the gem into the cloth before wadding it up once more and stowing it inside my satchel. The Crown of Nimrod wouldn’t work without the Sapphire of Shinar . . . At least, that’s what I hoped.

  * * *

  Lauren

  The street was quiet compared to the rest of Palermo. A safe house was tucked into a forgotten side street and closer to the sea than to the center of city. Mathias and I had stayed here for a few hours when our airship landed in Palermo before we took the train to Messina. Had it barely been a full forty-eight hours since we had arrived in Sicily?

  I adjusted the edges of my head shawl as I eyed the street. The feeling of being watched and followed had led me to take several detours already since I didn’t have anyone to
watch my back. There had only been a few times when Mathias and I had been forced to separate while we’d been on the run. After over a year of being together, of working together to stay out of Weard’s clutches, it felt so strange to be on my own again. Not knowing if Mathias had escaped, not knowing if he was . . .

  Shutting down that train of thought, I quickened my steps as I darted across the narrow street. I stuck to the shadows until I reached the safe house’s door and slipped inside. The moment I pushed the door shut was the first time since running that I had let myself truly relax. My body went limp and I sagged against the door, dropping my forehead to press against the wood, as I dragged in ragged breaths.

  My fingers were shaking when I reached up to pull the head shawl off. I braced my other hand against the door and pushed myself upright once more. Blowing out a breath, I focused on the immediate need and that was cleaning up. My clothes still smelled faintly of smoke and blood stained the collar of my shirt, which was part of the reason I’d once more donned my spare head shawl. The other was still securely wrapped around the Sapphire of Shinar and buried in the bottom of my satchel. I blinked, trying to focus my mind. I needed food, rest, and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

  I took a few steps into the main room before catching myself listening for him, for his accented voice extolling the virtues of a nice cup of tea or that I should eat a bite because I was looking peaky. “Mathias?” my voice cracked as I called his name.