Atalanta’s eyes were pure shifter gold as she glanced down at me. “The bears’ sponsor is about to pay a price for their use of ‘nip against Atlas.”
The glamour suddenly split, showing both the lawn where the competitors were being separated and one of the brightly lit and crowded lower platforms. I swallowed hard as dread tightened in the pit of my stomach. My mouth parched as two of the large security guards came up on either side of an ashen faced woman dressed all in red. Her bright red lipstick stood out like crayon against faded porcelain. But, she carried herself with dignity as she was led away. The glamour returned its focus to the lawn and then a short scream filled the night.
I flinched and low murmurs drifted from other patrons, but no one went to investigate. Heavy steps carried clearly through the darkness, and I half-turned to watch as another burly guard appeared with the sprite from before right behind him. Her wings were beating so fast that her feet never touched the ground as she zipped toward Atalanta. “Signora Atalanta of Fortriu, your competitor has been temporarily disabled due to the illegal use of ‘nip. Because he was winning when the incident occurred, we welcome him to the second round. And, the patron who failed to properly control her competitors has paid the penalty while they are all banned from the Roma games for the next century.”
Atalanta did not hide her frown as she regarded the sprite. “The brothers were not properly searched. Any shifter could have sniffed ‘nip on them.”
The sprite’s wings beat even faster, causing her to hover at eye level with Atalanta. She gripped the data pad tightly between her hands as she bowed her head. “On behalf of the games, we would offer recompense. Within reason.”
“I wish to inspect my competitor with my own eyes. And, I wish for Signora Tilki to accompany me as a vouchsafe.”
I barely kept my gaze steady as the sprite glanced from Atalanta to me. Why did the high numbers always have to pull me into such uncomfortable situations? I glanced at the other end of the platform and barely kept from panicking. Many of the numbers were flickering, hinting at dangerously higher ones. And, most were already 8s.
My gaze was drawn to Atalanta’s number. The steady 7 was now flickering, hinting at an 8. This was every Spotter’s worst nightmare. Utterly surrounded by high numbers, all of whom were on the verge of losing their collective tempers.
“Agree, sprite, or I shall not return.”
The sprite flushed, and her mouth dropped open slightly before she turned to face the other end of the platform. The dragon had strolled forward, and now observed the sprite with almost too casual a stance. He spoke again, his Italian only lightly accented. “Agree to the inspection and chosen vouchsafe or I shall withdraw all interest in these games. And, I shall ensure others follow suit.”
The sprite looked down at her data pad and typed something before she bowed. “It shall be done, Prince Tao. Signoras, if you will accompany me.”
Atalanta looped her arm through mine and once more propelled me into movement. Down the stairs we went with our sprite escort hovering in front of us, and the hulking security directly behind. When we reached the bottom level, I couldn’t help noticing a woman being escorted out ahead of us. The same woman in red who had been dragged away earlier. She carried herself tall, but I caught a glimpse of her cradling her left arm tightly against her body. We were led in a different direction before I could see why the woman clutched her arm.
We went across the cobblestones and to a smaller path that ran into a large tent between the lawn and the basilica. It was something I hadn’t even noticed on our approach to the basilica. As we neared the tent, I realized the fabric itself seemed to shimmer and shine in an unusual way. Some sort of glamour had been woven directly into the cloth. I’d heard of it, something close to sylph-made cloth, but it was incredibly rare.
We stepped inside to find more opaque lengths of fabric forming walls within the tent itself. The sprite escorting us led the way to the center of the tent and pulled the fabric back to reveal a cloth covered table. Atlas sat on it, clad in only a pair of shorts, and was busy eating a bleeding steak. He looked up and peered at us through red rimmed eyes. “Those idiots managed to sneak ‘nip out with them. Or someone allowed it.”
The sprite bristled, her wings lifting her into a hover again. Then, she glanced down at her data pad. “Signoras, you must forgive my departure, but I must make a report regarding this regrettable incident. Signora Atalanta, when you have finished assuring yourself to the competitor’s wellbeing, will you speak to the others including Prince Tao? Assure them of your faith in the games.”
“If I have such faith, I will do so.” Atalanta glanced at her with golden eyes, and the sprite moved back ever so slightly. A foolish thing to do when confronted by a predator.
She grew pale, no doubt realizing her mistake. Clearing her throat, she bowed her head. “Very well. You have ten minutes to assure yourselves, then Gino will escort you back to your viewing platform.”
As soon as she left, Atalanta nodded to me. Then, she gestured to the wall to our right. “He’s down there. Only three meters. Go. I need to scold Atlas, and it goes better without additional witnesses.”
I nodded and slipped out, more than a little relieved to escape the suffocating feel of power rolling off the two shifters. Walking to the second opening, I peeked through the crack first. Mathias’ daggers lay on a low bench. I slipped inside the makeshift room and immediately froze as something sharp touched my neck.
Peeking up and to the left, I met Mathias’ blue-green eyes. They were cool and more than a little reproving as he lifted the third dagger from where it had lain against my skin. He grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me further into the makeshift room. It was only then that I realized he had changed out of his suit into leather pants and high boots that molded to his calves. His torso was still bare although a leather chest plate lay beside the daggers. My gaze drifted over his long lean torso. To reassure myself that he wasn’t injured . . . of course.
“You shouldn’t be down here,” came the quiet words in Turkish.
The words and the chosen language were enough to jolt me out of my inspection. I looked up to meet his reproving gaze. Keeping my voice low, I whispered in Turkish, “I was invited. Atlas was cheated against by his competitors, and Atalanta insisted on inspecting him. I’m supposed to be her vouchsafe.”
Mathias’ mouth tightened, lips thinning slightly, as his eyes flickered from me to the makeshift walls and then back to me. His hand was warm against my bare forearm as he pulled me closer until there was hardly any space between us. Despite the disapproval in his eyes, his touch was as gentle as ever when he slid his free hand up my neck to cradle my jaw. His breath tickled as he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Heart-love, you must go back to the viewing platforms and stay out of any more game politics. They tend to draw attention even when they aren’t messy. You’ve seen me fight. Trust that. I will be fine. I intend to win our way into the Colosseum, but you must return to your proper place. It is too dangerous for you to be down here among the competitors.”
My heart skipped at the thought of Mathias having to fight. I had seen him fight. That didn’t mean I wanted him to do so. There was so much risk, especially when the competitors themselves didn’t all care so much about how they won so long as they were able to win. All these things raced through my mind, but they hung thick on my tongue and I couldn’t get them out.
I drew a ragged breath as I slipped my arms around Mathias. Pressing my forehead against his chest, I drew another shaky breath. His breathing remained steady, of course, and he didn’t seem troubled at all even though he rubbed my back. I took another breath, this one steadier than before, and forced myself to step back. I fussed with my hanging sleeves and then reached up to ensure the chain across my forehead hadn’t twisted.
Mathias caught my right hand in the midst of my fussing. He didn’t say anything though. Instead, he only held my gaze, his own blazing with intensity, as he pressed a kiss against the fox head on m
y wrist. Then, he jerked his chin toward the door. “Go now, Aysun. I will see you in victory.”
I wanted to protest or at least warn him to be careful of tricks and cheats. But, I caught the tiniest movement of his hand. His index and pointer fingers were together and slightly separated from the others. He wiggled them up and down once. The signal that someone was lurking nearby and likely listening.
Swallowing everything I wanted to say, I licked my lips and nodded once. As soon as I stepped out of the makeshift room, I was greeted by the hulking guard, and the sprite. She frowned at me. “Signora Tilki, you should be vouchsafing for Signora Atalanta, not wandering.”
As tempting as the thought of seeking someone else out to deflect attention was, I knew I couldn’t do it. Instead, I drew myself up and took advantage of the extra inches granted by my heels to peer down my nose at the sprite. I let my Turkish accent grow a little heavier as I retorted in the same Italian she used, “I have witnessed an unfortunate lapse in your games’ promise of fair and sporting play. It is little wonder that I would wish to inspect my own competitor to ensure myself that similar sabotage was not attempted on him.” When she did not respond, I cooled my voice and added, “Is it not? Or do the games’ officials prefer to hide the evidence of such . . . mischief when it does not occur on the field?”
The sprite’s gasp was audible, and her cheeks turned red as her wings beat faster. She hovered so we were eye level for a long moment, her mouth working but no sounds were forthcoming.
I pressed my advantage, not wanting her to grow so agitated I was thrown out. “It would be a pity if I must report to Prince Tao a lack of cooperation and understanding for assuring myself that my competitor was still in peak fighting form.”
Her data pad chirped, and the sprite dropped to the ground once more. She glared at me, but then muttered through clenched teeth, “It is not a problem, Signora Tilki, and understandable. However, time is up. We must return to the basilica. Unless you intend to withdraw your competitor . . .”
She trailed off, leaving me the barest flicker of hope that we could escape this debacle unscathed. However . . . I raised an eyebrow at her. “I believe there is a penalty demanded in such an event, is there not?”
Her wings fluttered once before going still. “There is the matter of the brand. However, some competitors are worthy only of the coward’s brand as it excuses them from ever participating in the games again. As for you . . . There would be a penalty, yes. Monetary or a pound of flesh.”
I used to believe that all high number paranormals were a bit crazy. Apparently their staff was not immune to the craze of power either. I glanced up to see the sprite’s number suddenly flickering into a 5 and 6. I hated this place, these games. Somehow I found the strength to offer a cool smile. “Your concern is unnecessary. My competitor will remain in the game.”
“He will be inspected again to ensure you have not given him anything to aid him unfairly.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Such insults should be couched with greater care. Seekers know how to find powerful friends, after all. Inspect my competitor all you like. He has no need of aids to win at this fight.”
Squaring my shoulders, I held my head high and pretended I wasn’t absolutely terrified as I walked away from the sprite. Atalanta joined me with a clear smirk playing across her lips. She nodded to me as she looped her arm through mine once again. “Nicely handled.”
“Thank you.”
I was thankful to have her as a seeming ally . . . even if she was a bit mad. Although, all I truly wanted was for the night to end. I wanted to escape before we were discovered or worse Mathias was injured. Or killed. I took a steadying breath against the terrifying thought. God willing, we would enter the Colosseum and be out again by morning. The fights couldn’t last much longer if it was already two in the morning. I hoped.
* * *
Chapter Six
Mathias
I closed the door to our hotel suite and flipped the locks in place before I pulled a marble token out of my jacket pocket. I held it up as Lauren turned on the room lights. This token took the form of a medallion with the Colosseum in raised relief on one side and the victor’s laurel on the other. I flipped it once and caught it. “I told you I would triumph.”
Lauren didn’t look at me as she pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the early morning light. “Tens are vexingly overconfident.”
I smiled in spite of the dull ache in my ribs. “And you’ve known many Tens, little Spotter?”
“I’ve known you,” she muttered, “that is more than enough.”
A low chuckle escaped me as I crossed the room to wrap an arm around her waist. Holding the token in front of her, I kissed her temple. “We have access to the Colosseum. We can find this Yakov together, and then we leave Roma behind.” I paused, studying her face. She was still pale and a little worn looking now that she no longer pretended to be a Turkish princess. “Forever if you’d like, love.”
She closed her eyes then whispered, “Will they try to cheat against you next time?”
“Of course, but they won’t be as blatant against me.” I hugged her to my side and dropped another kiss to her hair. “I under-advertised my skills tonight. They won’t think I’m as much of a threat as Atlas.”
Opening her eyes, Lauren’s dark gaze filled with a mixture of worry and frustration. “Is that what you call allowing two minotaurs to pummel you?”
I placed the token in her hand. “Keep this some place safe. The next fight won’t be until tomorrow night to allow recovery time for all the competitors.”
I kept talking as I strolled away from her and into the bedroom. “I think we should remain here during the daylight hours. Order room service when we feel like it. No reason to risk running into other patrons while we wait. That’s unofficially frowned on if you didn’t come in together.”
I grimaced as my sides protested when I attempted to shrug out of my jacket. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have been so generous as to allow both minotaurs to land some blows. I finished shrugging out of the jacket and turned around to find Lauren watching me. Worry had won out. I carefully lowered myself to perch on the end of the bed and held a hand out to her. She grabbed it with trembling fingers. I studied her for a long moment. “I can withdraw.”
“Not without penalty.”
“If you’re referring to the coward’s brand, they’d have to find me first.” Attempting to lighten the mood, I offered her a slight smirk as I leaned forward. “People can’t find us very easily if we’re sneaky. And, I’m excellent at disappearing. I hear you are too.”
She looked away from me, but her lips never curved in response. “The last thing we need is someone else hunting us, Mathias.” She slipped her hand free of my hold and moved to stand in front of the ornately carved wardrobe as she added, “I wish I had never asked to come here.”
“Roma is not so bad a place to hide in plain sight,” I murmured. “We could be alone on the moors again. With redcaps and kelpies lurking around.”
“They weren’t actively threatening us,” she retorted as she slipped out of the rich purple overdress and hung it in the wardrobe once more. The cap sleeves of her creamy underdress left her arms exposed and the back of the dress dipped low enough to expose her shoulder blades. I rather enjoyed the view.
Lauren’s dark hair swept across her shoulders and upper back obscuring my view when she let it out of the chignon. She was loosening the chain when she turned to face me, a frown in place. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. We should’ve moved on like you wanted.”
I shook my head. “It was our decision together, and I was the one who chose to participate in the games. Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting quite so much . . . excitement. However, I will surprise them tomorrow night.”
I slipped off my shirt and Lauren gasped. Glancing down, I noted the bruises were a tad more numerous than I had anticipated. Lauren’s touch to my shoulder was, however, anticipated. I finished shru
gging out of my shirt and set it aside. I kept my tone light as I leaned down to unlace my shoes, “Some cream for the bruises and I’ll be right as rain for tomorrow night.”
Lauren left me alone long enough to riffle through my go bag. “Could we . . . Could we switch places?”
A wry laugh escaped me as I slipped my shoes and socks off. “Substitution is not permitted in the games. They expect Alexander of Sparta to be the competitor, and so he will be. Besides, even if it was, I would never agree to send you out there. You have no fighting skills and would be slaughtered within a minute.”
I blinked as a pillow smacked the back of my head. I sat up and looked around in time to see Lauren’s fierce frown just before she smacked me in the face with the pillow again. I pushed the pillow away, fighting another laugh. “All right, two minutes.”
She smacked me again. “Stop laughing at me, you smug Myrmidon!”
“I generously granted you two minutes of survival in a fight,” I protested. I raised my arm to ward off another blow, then caught the end of the pillow before she could pull it back for another strike. I grinned at her. “I like your spirit. Even though pillows are not an acceptable weapon.”
“I could’ve put bricks in it,” she retorted drily. “Let go.”
I tightened my grip instead. “No. I don’t think I will.” I relaxed my arm slightly and then gave a sharp pull, yanking Lauren off balance. Letting go of the pillow, I caught her by the wrist and rolled so we both tumbled onto the bed. Pinning her beneath me, I brushed a fleeting kiss against her lips before whispering in her ear, “As I said, Lauren, I don’t think I will be letting go any time soon.”
“Smug Myrmidon,” she retorted with a smile. “You’re lucky I like you anyway.”
“Only like?” I brushed her hair away from her face before trailing kisses across her cheek. “I see I need to redeem myself.”
She laughed breathlessly. “Thought you needed the cream for your ribs.”
Hunt by Numbers Page 7
