Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “I didn’t lie about my heritage,” I stated as icily as I could, glaring down at her. “Who would claim such a heritage on a whim?”

  Lauren pursed her lips. “Fine. You’re a Myrmidon. It would certainly explain a few things. Achilles liked to run away too, after all.”

  “Enough!” I snapped. “You were almost killed tonight because you were being a hardheaded fool, Lauren. I am a Myrmidon. I don’t require your protection or your help.”

  “I was almost killed tonight,” she countered in a low voice, “because I was looking for you. There may be a hardheaded fool in this cottage, but it most certainly isn’t me.” She staggered to her feet and balanced precariously. “If you decide to vanish again, I would greatly appreciate it if you returned my crutches before doing so.”

  I moved to steady her, but she held up a hand. As she hopped and limped her way to the bedroom, I called after her, “Lauren.” When she stopped, she didn’t turn to look at me and that was for the best. “Do not come after me again. Stay inside where you will be safe.”

  She braced herself in the doorway and for a moment she said nothing, then she offered a slight nod. “Don’t worry, Mathias. I’m going back to my old habits, which include never chasing after a 10.”

  She limped into the bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. I forced myself to head outside returning to the spot where she was attacked. I searched for the recap, but the goblin had already retreated beyond the glen and so I left it. Gathering Lauren’s crutches, I took them back to the cottage. I set them up against the table and then stared at the closed bedroom door for a long moment. The burning pull I felt made me consider knocking until she opened it and I would . . .

  I shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t tell her everything she wanted. It was too dangerous and it would only tie her more firmly to me. I couldn’t do that to her. Better she stayed angry and alive than grow too close and die for that act. A Spotter and a Myrmidon did not belong together.

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Lauren

  Mathias wasn’t there when I finally emerged from the bedroom after a rather fitful night of sporadic sleep. He had left the crutches for me to find, so perhaps I hadn’t erred as badly as I feared. Looking back, I wished I hadn’t snapped at him but all the stress and worry over him finally combined with my anger to hit the boiling point. I sat at the table putting my hair in a braid and trying to ignore the urge to go look for him.

  He was a grown man, a 10 for goodness’ sake, what did he need me for? Looking out for him? Hardly. Realistically, I couldn’t defend him from anything unless a minor miracle occurred and I was not only healed but also much more skilled at combat. I spot threats, confronting and attacking them is definitely not what I trained to do. And, obviously, he no longer wanted to talk to me so we probably weren’t even friends anymore.

  My heart gave a twinge at the thought, but I only scolded myself. It was stupid to be upset about things. There had been no promise between us nothing except friendship and then a need to rely on him for help in escaping Weard’s hunters. That was all that truly tied us together. Mathias had made that clear.

  So why did it bother me so much?

  I couldn’t even begin to answer that question. If only because I knew, and I wouldn’t . . . couldn’t even think of it. It was too painful and stupid and everything I had worked to protect myself from come to life. I tried to keep myself busy, but hobbling around the cottage only lasted so long before I was ready to crawl up the walls.

  The second day I finally ventured outside the cottage. A small part of me expected Mathias to swoop down from where he was hiding for the sole purpose of scolding me and escorting me back into the cottage. A larger part of me was disappointed when there was no sign of him. I ignored the urge to go look for him. He was still a 10. It was still dangerous to provoke him, and I was fairly certain that if I strayed too far, I would be treated to the sight of a provoked 10. Something I could most certainly live without experiencing after I had already witnessed his icy wrath up close and personally. Something else I would prefer to never see again.

  I hobbled into the stable. Ailsa snuffled my coat in greeting and plucked at the hem, no doubt looking a snack. Slipping my hand into my pocket, I pulled out a little bag of baby carrots. I fed them to Ailsa and then Fife noticed. The gelding was quick to shove his head close enough to be slipped a few carrots as well. Artair acted as though he was above it all until I felt a hot breath against my neck and glanced over my shoulder to find him. His dark liquid gaze was steady as he waited. Soon the carrots were gone and all three horses were munching contentedly on their oats.

  Looking around the stable, I noted that there were plenty of signs pointing to Mathias’ presence since he had to be taking care of the horses. When I finally left the stable, I didn’t return to the cottage right away. Instead, I wandered back to the small rundown house where I found him when he was trying to pry apart the fireplace. A strange mix of relief and disappointment roiled in my stomach when I pushed the door open to see only an empty room. There was nowhere in the one room house for anyone to hide, but I still ventured inside far enough to look around. I bit my lip as I realized I was looking for blankets or bedding of some type. Surely Mathias hadn’t resorted to sleeping in the stable. It wasn’t a proper stable. It was more of a lean-to that was just large enough to shelter the horses from the elements. Despite my earlier declarations of giving up on Mathias, I still wanted to, well, to know that he was okay. And that he was safe too. As angry as I was at him for not talking to me, I was really worried about him. He said he was a Myrmidon, and I had no choice but to believe him now. Or at least act as though I didn’t doubt his story. But that knowledge only made me worry more.

  Eventually, I retreated back to the central cottage. The tiny seeds of hope I had been nurturing that I might find Mathias there vanished as soon as I entered. I thumped into the back room with a bit more force than necessary as I realized I was failing miserably at separating myself from the feelings that irritating man stirred up in me. I didn’t want Mathias to disappear. I didn’t want him to leave me alone, certainly not like this where I didn’t even know if he was truly staying in this hideaway anymore. The whole thing was an exercise in frustration and worry. I had never been fond of the trust exercises previous employers had forced me to participate in, and this was the worst one ever.

  Another two days passed without a single glimpse of Mathias. Or even a note left on the table. Worry ate at me as I brushed out my hair, preparing for another night of fitful dreams. All I could hope was that he hadn’t run into another predatory monster in the moors. I touched my throat. The bruises left by the Fuath had faded almost entirely, but the memory of suffocating while the monster leaned in close with its black serrated teeth gleaming wetly in the moonlight still hovered close to the surface. I had jolted out of a nightmare twice because of that encounter. The other nightmares centered on Mathias, searching for him and realizing he had abandoned me or, worse, finding him cold and lifeless because of me. I couldn’t explain how I was responsible, but every time that nightmare visited I knew with terrible certainty that I was the one responsible for Mathias’ death.

  I released a shuddering breath as I prayed I wouldn’t dream of his death again tonight. Last night had been bad enough when I woke with tears streaming down my face. The only comfort was that my throat hadn’t been raw from screaming in my sleep. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as I pressed my free hand against my stomach. It would go better if I didn’t think about what I didn’t want to dream about right before I went to sleep.

  Lying down, I pulled the blankets up high to shut out the damp chill in the air. It had changed from snow to sleet then proper rain by seven in the evening and hadn’t let up. The faint whiff of Mathias’ aftershave still clung to the blankets even though it had been days since his coat was in them. I inhaled the scent all the same as I wished . . . Well, thin
gs I shouldn’t be wishing when the man in question didn’t even want to be in line of sight anymore.

  I had almost drifted off when I heard the scrape of the door and then the muffled sound of it shutting. I sat up and scrambled to get out of bed. My ankle gave a twinge of warning when I tried to put my weight on it, but I didn’t care. I limped over to the bedroom door and yanked it open. My breath caught at the sight of Mathias’ long lean frame. He was taking off his flat cap, which was sopping wet just like his wool coat. I glanced at the space above his head. Still a 10. It was strange how comforting the sight of a number that had once sent me into a panic was now.

  When my gaze dropped back down to his face, I caught him giving me a look that might have held a glimmer of surprise beneath the coldness. I glanced at my watch. Almost midnight. He must have been returning when it was so late he thought I was asleep.

  I hesitated torn between asking him questions about where he had been or just giving him a helping hand as he shrugged out of his dripping coat. Giving myself a shake, I took a quick breath to steady my nerves and then busied myself with fixing him tea. Still I couldn’t help peeking at him as I steeped the leaves of earl grey. He looked . . . almost himself. Other than being all wet. Meeting his blue-green eyes, I felt a blush creeping up into my cheeks and I quickly turned my attention back to preparing the tea.

  When I brought him the mug, I wondered for the briefest moment whether he would snub my offering. Mathias’ blue-green eyes held no warmth, only a frosty watchfulness, as I approached. He also wasn’t wearing a shirt although he had at least resisted taking off his pants while I was in the room. That would have been a bit much to handle right now. As it was, I still struggled to keep from gaping at him like some silly schoolgirl who had never seen an attractive man shirtless.

  By some miracle, I wasn’t blushing fierily when I handed him the tea. I should have retreated then and there, instead I lingered looking up at him. Hardly considering my actions, I laid a hand on his forearm as I murmured, “I’m glad you came back. I was, well, I was worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.” The tone was perfectly even if touched by frost and he didn’t so much as offer a hint of a smile to me. “You should be using your crutches.”

  I offered a little smile. “I’m okay, really.” The muscles in his forearm tensed beneath my fingers, and I prayed I wasn’t blushing again as a painful awareness of him sang back to life. I still sounded a little breathless as I asked, “Are you . . . Are you certain you’re all right?”

  He raised the mug slightly, slipping his forearm out from beneath my touch, and stated with chilly politeness, “Yes. Thank you.”

  How he managed to pack that much of a ‘go away’ into the statement without saying the words was . . . both impressive and frustrating. I almost argued, almost pleaded with him to talk to me and to stay instead of disappearing. But . . .

  My gaze strayed once more to the 10. The sensible little voice in my head was screaming that provoking an already tense 10 was foolish no matter how kind he had been in the past. My boldness shriveled as the weight of confronting a 10 settled on me with crushing clarity. I realized Mathias was watching me and there was nothing but cold indifference in his eyes. Uncertain now of everything happening between us, I retreated to the relative safety of the bedroom.

  This coldness was . . . troubling. If I had any sense at all, I would take my chances with the hunters and try to make my way back to civilization. Maybe a Fae pony would get me to Wick. Ailsa would probably be willing to carry me, although I wasn’t certain if Artair would let us go off alone. Dealing with the stallion might be worth the hassle if it got me away from this place. Even as I contemplated the idea, my heart shrank from turning into someone who abandoned another, a friend who clearly needed help, and for what? My own sense of safety?

  I reached up to touch the sapphire pendant, my mind turning to my parents, and then I dropped my hand in disgust. No. No, I couldn’t do what they had done. What too many people in my life had done. I wasn’t going to do the same to Mathias. He was the only one who ever reached out to truly help me in my life. It would be wrong not to return the favor. I was in . . . debt to him so I needed to return the favor. It was the only thing to do in this case.

  A heavy sigh escaped me as I eyed the closed door. This was going to take time. That was one of the few things that was clear. A lot of time. I stretched out on the bed and pulled the blankets up once more. Mathias’ aftershave tickled my nose as did the memory of his bare arm beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes tightly and refused to acknowledge what it meant. The only good thing here was that waiting for Mathias to talk to me again would likely mean I would be back on my feet and less reliant on the crutches or even off them completely. As my ankle throbbed in protest of my earlier actions, I reminded myself that waiting for my tendon to heal wouldn’t last forever. Only another three weeks or so, and then it would be time to make a real decision about Mathias.

  * * *

  Mathias

  I paced the length of the main room of the cottage. I had intended only to keep my distance, weaken the draw toward her, but when I returned tonight . . . She was still awake, waiting for me perhaps. I had steeled myself for her inevitable reaction of scorn and eventually fear. But, there had only been concern. Enough that it had pained me to stay cold against her. But, I had no choice.

  I still didn’t have a choice. I stopped pacing and dropped down onto the bench, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. Placing my palms together, I bowed my head slightly to rest my mouth against my fingers as I studied the flickering flames. Lauren’s reaction had nearly undone me. The moment she spoke without referencing our quarrel or demanding answers I wasn’t prepared to give weakened me enough that I didn’t immediately abandon my quest for dry clothes. Then, she had not only brought me tea but she had voiced . . . concern instead of scorn. I felt her touch on my arm as though bitten by a burning ember, and I had been close to losing control over my instincts that were drawing me toward her ever since . . .

  Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath through my nose. I had almost kissed her. I had wanted to pull her close and kiss her so she understood why I had been angry with her for almost dying. And for the poor reason of being concerned with my sorry hide. The memory of the Fuath’s hands on her throat flashed through my mind, and I bit back a groan as the ice in my veins surged in strength. If not the draw, it was the cold fury eating through me. I shouldn’t have stayed when I saw her come into the main room. Yet, tonight I almost drug Lauren too closely into my life. Even now with my eyes closed, she was still there looking up at me with eyes of such dark brown they were ebony in color. Wide, liquid, and intoxicating. Her presence so easily detectable and warm despite my attempts at chasing her away. If I offered—

  “No!” I opened my eyes as the angry denial burst past my lips. I waited, but Lauren didn’t come back. A low groan escaped me as I bowed my head again. No, I couldn’t offer anything else. I needed to push Lauren away before I slipped and obeyed the instincts urging me to take her back to my true homeland. Instincts urging me to allow her to be more than just the woman I am trying to protect. No, that could never happen. I refused to do that to her.

  I rubbed my chin as I returned my attention to the fire. I would need to continue avoiding her presence if such a small encounter held such power over me. I stood up and then softly crossed the room to where I had stashed my go bag. My soaked sweater, socks, and boots were still drying in front of the fire, but the jeans I still wore were nearly dried from my pacing. I glanced at the closed bedroom door and then carried my go bag over to the fireplace. It probably wouldn’t have hurt anything to wait until my clothes and shoes were fully dried out, but the thought of waiting and risking another meeting with Lauren was, in a word, unbearable.

  If I didn’t gain more space and time apart from her intoxicating presence, I would fail entirely in my sole goal. I would fail at protecting her. It would be difficult to continue watching
over her from a distance and to hide from her as though I were spying on her like she was just another intelligence target. But, it was necessary. Lauren was too vulnerable and innocent and compelling for me to stay in close proximity to her. She muddled my thoughts, and I could not afford the distraction. She could not afford the distraction.

  I hesitated only a moment longer before I quickly changed into dry jeans and a dry sweater before pulling a slicker out and donning it as well. I wrapped my wet clothing and coat in towels and stowed them in my go bag before heading back out into the rain. I merely needed to wait for Lauren’s ankle to heal to the point that she could walk without crutches before we parted ways. It would be for the best. I knew it would be for the best . . . for both of us. Lauren had enough trouble with Weard sending hunters after her for a still unknown reason. She needed to focus on healing and on getting far enough away that she would no longer be of interest to Weard. Yet, I couldn’t help the wry thought that this was going to be a long assignment.

  By the time I walked through the freezing rain to my current lodgings, I knew I needed a distraction. Or I would find myself back in Lauren’s presence hopelessly lost to her. Perhaps, I should consider faking Lauren’s death when we parted ways.