Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “Figured it was better than ‘oops,’” I murmured knowing it would get a rise out of her.

  I heard her sharp gasp and then her jacket slapped against my back. I chuckled as I turned to meet her glare. Raising my hands in surrender, I backed away slowly. “I’ll hurry with the tea then, and maybe some biscuits will help?”

  “They won’t help you, you impertinent Myrmidon,” she snapped.

  Keeping my hands up, I took the risk of walking back toward her and sank to my knees. She frowned at me, hands on her hips, looking as fierce as an irate kitten. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning at her. Shuffling forward on my knees, I reached out to cover her hands with mine. “I’m begging for mercy, you marvelous fierce and glorious woman. Mercy for my impertinent tongue, I beseech you.”

  “Mathias,” she sounded torn between being cross and laughing as she pulled her hands free and then rested them on my shoulders. “You are ridiculous.”

  “Yes, I know and I gladly suffer it for your sake,” I responded lightly. Reaching to tighten my hold on her hips, I tugged her forward and then kissed her stomach. There was a barely noticeable difference in size now, not quite a true bump. At nearly fourteen weeks and despite her grumbles to the contrary, Lauren was still carrying more in than out. I pressed another kiss to her stomach even as excitement bubbled over due to getting closer to the time when Lauren would actually have a proper baby bump. A sight I had long given up witnessing in such a context. Leaning back on my heels, I kept my hands on her hips as I added, “The little stowaway would like you to show mercy too.”

  She shook her head, but this time she smiled. She slipped her hands into my hair, lightly massaging my scalp, as she laughed softly. “Something tells me that having you for a baba means our little one will be just as prone to driving me to distraction. The two of you together . . . Lord have mercy on us all.”

  “That’s why we have you,” I responded with a grin. “Keep us in line.”

  “Mathias . . .”

  She was smiling but not speaking.

  “Mathias . . .”

  Lauren vanished from my grasp followed by the safe house. Everything vanished, leaving me alone in a foggy room. I scrambled to my feet. “Lauren! Lauren, where are you?”

  A voice hissed through the fog. “She’s gone.”

  I shook my head. “No!”

  Another voice whispered in my ear, “You lost them. Failed them.”

  “No!” I spun to face my accuser only to find more fog. I scanned the room or was it a hall . . . Fog billowed around me with a few shadows darting along the edges before they blurred out of focus and then vanished from sight. “Lauren! Lauren, can you hear me?”

  “The dead do not hear the living,” came a whisper from behind me.

  I swung a fist to strike the liar only there was nothing but cool fog. My breathing grew faster as I spun again. More whispers rose from the surrounding fog. Every word driving a spike of fear, of despair, through my heart.

  “Murderer.”

  “Failure.”

  “Cursed.”

  “Monster.”

  “Failed her, failed them both.”

  “Let them die.”

  “No! I did not let them die!” I shouted. “They’re . . . alive.”

  “They’re dead. You know it.”

  The vicious whisper sank through me like a strike from a fully shifted dragon, driving me to my knees. “No.” The rough whisper tore from my lips only to drop into the fog, already forgotten.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, vainly attempting to tune out the accusing whispers. Then, I heard Khalid’s voice. “Finally, he stops screaming. Or have you merely choked yourself into silence?”

  I looked down to find the chains wrapped around my chest once more, painfully tight as I leaned forward. Then, my gaze caught on the sonogram lying on the floor of the cargo hold. My throat grew tight as I remembered Lauren had given it to me and told me to keep it somewhere safe. I’d put it in my shirt pocket, confident it would be safe there. Almost as confident as I had been regarding my ability to protect Lauren and the baby.

  And, I had failed them.

  “Tears? You are disgustingly weak for a man who has killed dragons without so much as a twitch of guilt.”

  I looked up to meet Khalid’s sneer. He was partially shifted, one of his arms covered in brown scales and tipped with claws. When our eyes met, he shifted his head to that of a dragon and then he leaned down and snatched the sonogram up. His claws piercing one corner.

  I shifted my weight, the chains tightening and pinching my chest and arms. “Khalid, leave it.”

  “Why?”

  “It is all I have now.” I took a breath before I spat out the bitter words, “Please, I beg you, leave it.”

  He cocked his head, the light from the swaying bulbs overhead scattering across his scales. Then, he reached up to touch the scar tissue marring the scales along his snout and over his left eye. His nostrils flared as he rumbled, “No.”

  “Khalid!”

  He ignored me as he dangled the sonogram in front of his face. The scales covering his throat glowed with internal fire, and then he blasted the sonogram with a short stream of flame. I lunged against the chains, jerking short, even as I screamed at him.

  Khalid observed me struggle for a long moment and then he dropped the still burning sonogram in front of me. I watched helplessly as it curled and shriveled into ashy remnants. It was gone. Like Lauren . . . Like our baby . . .

  Fury coursed through me. Fury at Khalid, fury at Soslan, and most of all fury at myself. I had failed to protect the only ones I loved. I had failed. I let out a hoarse scream and threw myself against the chains, not caring about the way they dug into my chest and squeezed my lungs. All I wanted was to get loose long enough to end the miserable existence of the men responsible, and then I didn’t care what happened to me.

  I struggled, screaming my rage at the world, until more steps rushed up to us. I heard the sound of triggers being pulled and felt the light prick of darts biting into my skin. Then, I was swallowed by unfeeling darkness, my wrath and heartbreak smothered beneath its velvet wings.

  “Mathias . . .”

  Lauren.

  “Mathias . . .”

  No, that wasn’t Lauren’s voice. It was too soft, too high, and far too nervous. There was no touch to accompany the words either.

  “Mathias, you need to open your eyes and talk to me.” The voice softened as the woman added, “Please. I don’t think I can convince them to give me much more time. Please, wake up. It’s the only way you’ll survive.”

  I didn’t want to survive. Yet, I found myself opening my eyes the barest crack. Pink. Bubblegum pink combined with brighter pink lipstick. I blinked and rolled my head to the side. I was back in the holding cell. No, I was still in the holding cell. My memories had been just that . . . memories. The drugs in my system must have overwhelmed my senses again.

  “Mathias? Can you hear me? Are you . . . Are you well?”

  “Would you be well if you had lost the only person you could truly trust and love?” I rasped.

  Didi looked down, but not before I caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. “I know you don’t want to talk me, and I understand. Really I do, but I don’t want to see what that man intends to do to you if you don’t cooperate.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll kill me.”

  She darted a look at me, a frown appearing. “Suicide by bad guy is not the answer and, with a record as decorated as yours for sheer stubbornness against all odds, I would expect better from you.”

  “I don’t have a reason to fight anymore,” I hissed. “They made sure of it.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it as she glanced over her shoulder. Following her gaze, I finally noticed the presence of a guard in the far corner of the room. No doubt, he was guarding the door as well as the two of us. Then, Didi edged a little closer to me as she started talking rapidly once more. “You fell off of Weard’s
grid when you fled Olympia, Washington in the company of a Spotter by the name of Lauren Hope. Her species specializes in identifying threats among people, norm and paranormal. They were once used by other powerful paranormals to conduct purges against anyone who ranked as a Ten, the most powerful and deadliest of paranormals, beginning with Nimrod the Great Hunter. Myrmidons were infamous for producing Tens including Achilles. After the Spotters were used to help identify and eradicate the Tens of the world, however, the powerful decided they were better off eliminating Spotters.”

  I stared at her. “What is it you think you are doing? Don’t tell me the history. I know it.”

  “Until two years ago, there were only eight identified Spotters remaining in the world with rumors of a few others. The only confirmed rumor was that of Lauren Hope. Turkish American, lived mostly in the paranormal and mixed norm communities inside the Barrier in the Shadowed Lands until she settled in Olympia, Washington. She worked at Halliman’s PR company as a secretary. Parentage unknown, she was in the foster system from the approximate age of four years old until she turned seventeen, listed as a foundling. Last summer you were sent to Halliman’s as a security consultant on loan from Weard Enterprises, your mission was to root out Lauren Hope and either confirm or deny that she was a Spotter.”

  “I said stop,” I hissed. “Don’t recite our history like you’re reading it out of some book!”

  Didi’s eyes widened at my words, but she kept talking. “Your handler was changed on orders of management and, specifically, Oscar Reubens. The handler reported that you were showing a reluctance to act toward Lauren Hope, so Reubens arranged for several demonstrations. First, by tampering with an employee at Halliman’s. Then, by arranging for a Lamia’s thrall to attack Lauren Hope. You interfered with both tests making your loyalties suspect. Suspicions confirmed when you were seen attacking Reubens, and then escaping with Lauren Hope. You went off the grid when you left Olympia. It took days before you were traced to a train station, boarding a train that would take you down the West Coast.” She leaned in closer, her brown eyes searching mine, as she added, “It was believed that you had seduced Lauren Hope and decided your personal feelings were more important than maintaining the security of the paranormal community.”

  I lurched forward, grasping her by the arms and pulling her around against me. Wrapping the chain around her neck, I met the guard’s gaze as he leapt toward us. “Don’t. I’ll snap her neck. It won’t take any effort to do it. Lore keepers are like Spotters . . . vulnerable.” My voice went colder as I added, “An easy kill.”

  Didi sounded petrified as she gasped, “Get Khalid!”

  The guard hesitated, and I tightened my hold putting her into a proper chokehold. “Try anything and she dies. I’m sure the Nephilim would appreciate that, don’t you think?”

  The guard spun on his heel and nearly ran into the sealed door before he remembered to open it. It closed behind him too swiftly to allow anyone to escape even if I hadn’t been stuck in chains. I loosened my grip on the Lore keeper’s neck, but didn’t let her go. Instead, I bent down to whisper in her ear, “Where did they put her?”

  “W-who?”

  “Soslan said they recovered her body. Where is she?” I barely kept myself from tightening my grip once more. She was a Lore keeper not a hunter. “Where did they put her body?”

  Didi shook her head, bubblegum pink hair brushing against my face, as she spoke in a trembling voice. “No. None of the teams recovered a body. I would have heard about it to update the information about Lauren Hope.”

  She let out a low sob as my grip tightened, my mind racing with what she was saying. “If you are lying to me, woman, I won’t care that you aren’t a hunter.”

  “It’s not a lie, I swear it on my name. P-please, believe me, it is not a lie. My team still has orders to track her. They’ve been following her through Italy, she was last seen in Lombardy at Milan.”

  “How close are they?” When she didn’t answer right away, my tone sharpened as I demanded, “How close?”

  Didi flinched. “They haven’t reported an update. I only know that my team was planning to apprehend her in Milan. They have orders to capture her alive and bring her back here.”

  “Where is here?” She didn’t answer and I pulled her closer as I snapped, “Where?”

  “Chicago,” she gasped. “We’re at headquarters.”

  He’d lied. They had lied. I let out a ragged breath as I murmured, “My wife’s alive.”

  Realizing I was still terrifying the Lore keeper, I eased my grip slightly and dropped my voice to a barely audible whisper, “If you have any sense of survival, if you want to live, you’ll disappear before you outlive your usefulness. If you have any doubts about his actions, you’ll run and hide. And, take anyone you care about with you.”

  “W-what?”

  “Disappear,” I repeated. “He will never let you leave this building alive otherwise. Your gift will turn into your curse, just like the Spotters. Run, hide, just go. While you still can.”

  “I . . . I thought you didn’t care.”

  “She wouldn’t like it if I didn’t warn you,” I murmured more to myself than to her. I stiffened at the sound of running feet. “I warned you. I’m no longer obliged to do anything for you,” I whispered in her ear as the door opened.

  I caught sight of Khalid in his partial form, a man with scaled skin and claws and a dragon’s head, and I shoved Didi to the floor. She hit the ground just as Khalid leapt for me. The drugs slowed my reaction, kept my body from obeying the command to fight back. A hoarse cry ripped from my lips as Khalid sank his claws into the meat of my shoulders.

  My hands came up only to jerk short as the other hunters grabbed the chains, keeping me from fighting back properly. I swore at them and struggled to kick out or twist away. To do something. But, my body simply wouldn’t, couldn’t, respond. Not in time.

  Khalid’s claws tore deep into muscle, leaving a blaze of pain behind.

  Fog and fire licked at me as my mind revolted against the drugs and whatever poisons tainted the dragon’s claws. My body reacted as I was punched and kicked, but the feel of it all faded from my awareness. Past Khalid’s snarling face, I caught a glimpse of bubblegum pink hair rushing out of the holding cell.

  Soslan didn’t reappear. There was no one to call Khalid off before I lay in a bleeding heap on the floor. The pain was still distant as I struggled to breath past the iron taste of blood filling my mouth. Yet, a small voice in the back of my mind noted cold disinterest that my ribs were likely broken, possibly a lung punctured. Injuries that would heal, if I hadn’t been exposed to too much of Khalid’s poisoned tricks.

  Lauren . . .

  If she was alive . . .

  They would be safer with me gone. Except . . . There would be no one to train a young Myrmidon in how to control the ice in our veins, in how to properly wield our people’s talents. Dangerous . . .

  Lauren’s face swam before my eyes. My lips parted, but no sound came when I said her name. I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Lauren

  I couldn’t hear anything save for my own heart pounding in my ears. I couldn’t see anything. There was just a faint sensation of fabric brushing against my skin, smooth and light to the touch even as it blocked out any outside light or noise.

  I didn’t know where we were going. After being forced to step into what I assumed was a train, I had been handcuffed to a chair and left. Minutes blurred into hours. The drugs keeping me from speaking had eventually lulled me back into sleep. I woke up at the pain of another prick to my neck and now I was being dragged . . . somewhere.

  The hands wrapped around my arms weren’t hurting me even though there was no illusion that I’d be able to break free of them. I couldn’t hear our steps through the hood. I could feel mine, however, and we had changed from rough stones to wood and then to rough stone once more. Now, however, the ground had cha
nged again. The soles of my boots didn’t brush against uneven stone anymore. It felt smooth. If I were to guess, we were now inside a building. Which one though . . . Now, that was the real question.

  They hadn’t revealed themselves when they grabbed me, not even to say they were Weard. But, the memory of their numbers blazing bright and high as 8s meant it was unlikely they belonged to anyone else, especially with a dragon leading them.

  So far the only small mercy I’d experienced was the lack of torture or beating. Maybe, the man masquerading as Raz Yakov had ordered them to hold off. Until he was ready for a personal interrogation. The thought sent a shiver down my spine and made my heart beat harder against my ribs.

  Suddenly, we stopped moving. Then, the hands released their hold on my arms. I didn’t dare move, however, as the hood continued blocking out any helpful information for where we were and who was here. I struggled to control my breathing, shoving the gibbering voice of fear back into the smallest corner of my mind. I couldn’t afford to panic.

  The hood came off, and I blinked at the sudden assault of light burning my eyes. When I blinked away the bright spots in my vision, I realized there was no one in front of me. Instead plain white stone greeted my newly restored sight, light filtered from high windows that were barred by crisscrossed stone, and the floor while smooth was plain. I had no idea where I was, but it looked uncomfortably similar to a holding cell.

  I heard a whisper of movement behind me. There was a sharp prick on the nape of my neck before I could react. I hissed as I flinched away from the touch. Stumbling forward, I managed to stay on my feet as I twisted around to face whoever was in the cell with me.

  A woman watched me with fiery orange eyes, her dark brown hair caught in a tight French braid utterly unadorned by the pearls I remembered from our last encounter. Even her outfit was a sharp contrast to the elaborate affair she had worn before, this time wearing dark jeans stuffed inside knee high black boots and a black leather jacket over her white cotton shirt.