Rogue Spotter Collection

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “You.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you?”

  “I’m no one.”

  His eyes grew glazed and unfocused as his voice deepened, but thankfully no shouting this time. “No, you are the destroyer.”

  I shook my head. “I am not that. If anything, I’m harmless.”

  The seer shook his head. “Harmless? Child, you hold the means to unlocking the destruction of our entire world. Paranormal and norm will fall to their knees in fear of you.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the words choked in my throat. I looked around, fearing another patrol heard him. Fear of me? That was . . . insane. I was a Spotter. I could expose the dangerous paranormals in a single glance, enough for people to have attempted to wipe out my kind, yes. But, no one trembled in fear at a Spotter. That was something more suited to Mathias as a Myrmidon and a 10.

  The seer’s gaze focused on me, and the words seemed more his own now as he suddenly scowled. “I know your face. You are Lauren Hope. The one who has given Weard the desperation it needed to spur itself into a war with both dragon princes and the Fae courts.”

  My breathing hitched, then steadied as I shook my head. I stepped closer to him, lowering my voice to just above a whisper. “I was not the cause. I am a Spotter. We do not start wars.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes,” I hissed. Tugging at my head scarf, I resisted pushing it back as my eyes darted in the direction the soldiers had taken Mathias. “You called those soldiers down on Mathias when you owed him your existence in the care of the dragon prince. Why did you say nothing?”

  The seer’s eyelid twitched before he responded tartly, “Your presence surprised me. I was not prepared for the seeing to take me. He should have known better than to bring you here, Destroyer.”

  The vise of old familiar panic squeezed around my heart and itched at my back. Seers were the most terrifying of the low numbers. They could give me away as a Spotter to the wrong people, and I tried to stay away from them. Of course, now that Weard had confirmed my existence, it likely didn’t matter that a seer knew I was a Spotter.

  I took a steadying breath and forced the feeling, the need for escape away. I had to focus. “I am not this destroyer. You are wrong. Mathias told me what he did for you. He protected you from an assassination attempt, brought you to Italy so you could find shelter with family in Venice. You only have the ability to be employed by the dragon prince because of his help. He said you promised him a favor by virtue of the Order of Delphi. Your honor as a seer binds you to that promise or you risk losing your ability to see, to interpret the gift of knowledge in any way to prevent tragedy.”

  Anger burned in the man’s eyes, but I forced myself to keep speaking. “Unless you want to become one of Cassandra’s descendants, you must pay back your debt. True?”

  His lips pursed in clear displeasure at the mention of ill-fated Cassandra of Troy whose seeings had been cursed to be ignored by all, but he gave a short jerk of his chin in the affirmative. Sticking his pipe back into his mouth, he muttered around it. “The rule of three applies. Three questions, three answers. No more, no less. Choose wisely, Destroyer.”

  The demand to know why he called me that rose to the tip of my tongue, then froze. No. I couldn’t get distracted. Besides seers had a terrible habit of falling on their gift of knowledge and turning it into a double-edged sword. The chief problem with foreknowledge was it predisposed one to self-fulfillment. And, I had enough trouble with strange dreams and a Myrmidon in the hands of a royal dragon.

  “Well? Have you no questions, Destroyer?”

  I glanced around, relieved that no one was closing in on us. Still I kept my voice low as I asked, “Where have they taken Mathias?”

  “To the Doge’s Palace to face the dragon prince.”

  “What is she going to do to him?”

  The man shrugged. He grit the stem of his pipe between his teeth with enough force that it was a miracle nothing broke. “She is angry with Weard. Mathias, protector he may be, but he works for Weard. She will make an example of him.

  I had to find a way to reach him first. I almost left then, but there was one more question to be asked and answered. I hesitated only a moment before asking the question that had brought us to this disastrous meeting in the first place. “What must I do to uncover my past?”

  At first he scowled at me. Then, his gaze grew unfocused as his voice deepened once more. “The Destroyer must travel to the seven hills. There she will find the one called Raz Yakov. He will set her path before her feet.”

  When his gaze cleared, the seer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Woman, you are going to bring disaster down on us all. Mathias should have left you wherever he found you. The questions asked have been answered. My debt is repaid. Do not approach me again.”

  He turned and ran down the bridge without another word to me. As the seer vanished into the shadows, I adjusted my head shawl and started down the bridge. My heart was pounding already, but I forced myself to keep heading down the streets. I had to get to the Doge’s Palace. Preferably without being arrested.

  I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but apparently I was going to go into a royal dragon’s lair . . . on purpose . . . again. For Mathias.

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  Mathias

  The inner chambers of the Doge’s Palace were a testimony both to the history of Venice and the draconic fondness of precious treasures. Rich wallpaper and gold gilding framing the artwork of Renaissance masters. The dragon princes had certainly kept Venice’s reputation for wealth and aristocracy in good repair. Lauren would have loved seeing it, if there weren’t a pair of royal dragons in residence.

  As we entered the audience chamber, I made a show of looking around at the painted ancient maps covering nearly every inch of exposed wall. There were two globes placed in the center of the hall, each taller than the average man, one that showed the earth and the other the heavens. Relics of the past when Venice was the queen of the Adriatic Sea, as well as the Mediterranean. I noted the empty throne at the far end of the hall, carved into the wooden line of chairs, before I focused on the two people standing in front of the globes.

  The man stood with the practiced balance of a soldier, his blond curls carefully gelled into submission, and clad in an unbuttoned suit. His brown eyes cut to me, but he said nothing though his nostrils flared. Then, he turned back to the woman and leaned his head toward her though he still didn’t speak a word.

  The woman was a different matter. She was wearing a cobweb silk dress that belonged at an extravagant ball not an interrogation. After travelling through one of the hubs of sylph dressmaking, I was certain the dress was also of sylph making. Material that did not resist magic like norm-made clothing did. For shifters, Dragon or Therian, that meant they did not need to fret over ruined wardrobes and arriving at a destination with nothing but a smile to adorn their mortal forms when they shifted back. But sylph made cloth was the most expensive and most adaptable of all paranormal made clothing, so to own even one dress that was wholly sylph made was a luxury that few could afford. Even among the dragons, since the sylphs did not like to leave their ancient homelands.

  I flicked my attention from the dress to the jewels. Opals and pearls. A heavy necklace made of strands of opals and pearls against white gold adorned the woman’s neck and matching earrings hung from her ears. She had a strong aquiline nose and her dark brown hair was twisted into an elaborate knot with pearls scattered throughout. Her olive skin tone was darker than Lauren’s and contrasted neatly with her outfit. As she turned fiery eyes on me, I offered a slight bow. “Dragon Prince Cesarina, the rumors do not do your appearance justice.” I straightened as I added lightly, “Nor your . . . hospitality.”

  The dragon prince arched an eyebrow at me. She rested a hand on the globe showing the surface of the earth as she spoke in a resonate alto, “I have had many paranormals enter this audience chamber
in the decades since I inherited my father’s title and territory. However you are the first Myrmidon. I should kill you now for merely existing. Abomination.”

  I offered a smirk as I glanced from her to the man before I raised a finger. “As honored as I would be to be slain by a dragon prince, you must understand that I have a schedule to keep. Dying simply isn’t on table today.”

  The dragon prince’s lips curved into the slow smile of a predator, her eyes still shining with reptilian glee. “You mistake my meaning, abomination. My schedule states otherwise. In fact, I think it would be a most reasonable way to end this old night and begin the new day.”

  “Italian dragons are always so bloodthirsty,” I tsked. “Did you learn nothing from the fall of the Medici clan?”

  She gave a low husky laugh that was tainted with a hint of sulfur. She shook a beringed finger at me. “Careful, abomination. You never know whose blood still lives.”

  I shrugged. “Everyone knows the Medici clan died out as far as proper dragons. Only a few dragon-born still carry the blood, and most of them went stark raving mad due to all the inbreeding.”

  The dragon prince tilted her head, eyes narrowing at me. “So you know your history. Yet, you dare to enter my city?”

  “Who could pass up the opportunity to see the jewel of the Adriatic?” I countered. I glanced from her to the man, who lingered too close to be anyone other than her consort, before adding with perfect politeness, “Though perhaps the name has been misapplied. From what I see, you are a far more worthy recipient of the title ‘Jewel of the Adriatic.’”

  The dragon prince smiled, showing all her teeth. “How flattering. Pity, you are British, though. You simply do not have the panache of a proper Italian man. You speak flattering words couched in politeness but you mean quite the opposite, do you not?”

  “I would hardly say such a thing,” I countered smoothly.

  The dragon prince only smiled. “Of course, you wouldn’t state something quite so baldly. Even abominations must have manners it seems.”

  “Well, I do hope to please.”

  “Truly?” A dangerous edge entered the dragon prince’s voice as she looked me over. “Then, why is it you dared to enter my city when someone so . . . knowledgeable as you claim to be regarding the dragon families would know that my family has never welcomed the hunters of Weard inside the bounds of fair Venice.”

  I spread my hands wide. “As I told your lieutenant, I prefer to say that I am retired.”

  The dragon prince darted forward, her hand shifting to expose opalescent scales and sharp claws. She caught my chin in her grasp and pulled it down so I stared into her fiery eyes. Sulfur coated her breath as she hissed, “Do not make the mistake of mocking me, abomination. It is within my rights as the protector of Venice to purge the city of threats including those like you. Your kind is not protected anymore, if you recall. That which no longer exists has no protection.”

  Ice filled my veins, urging me to act, and I narrowed my eyes at her. I do not like being threatened. “If you are wise, you will release me,” I stated in a low voice. “I would hate to make a mess in such a historic building.”

  A snarl curled her pink lips and the claws dug deeper into my chin, breaking the skin. “Do not threaten me, abomination.”

  “Your grace!”

  The dragon prince’s slit pupils widened for an instant, giving away her surprise. I, on the other hand, closed my eyes as I recognized the breathless call. I couldn’t turn my head to look at her, but she came closer to us as she spoke again. “Great one, please demonstrate the mercy of the dragon princes, not their vaulted wrath. If he has given offense, he will apologize.”

  Opening my eyes, I stared into the contemplative gaze of a plotting dragon. Her hand flexed, claws sinking deeper and causing fresh blood to well, before she released my chin and I was able to straighten my neck. The dragon prince Cesarina was not a woman given to exclamations, so the fact that she remained utterly silent as her consort offered her a handkerchief to clean her claws was a better indicator of her . . . surprise at the situation than anything. I ignored the blood trickling down the underside of my jaw and neck as I cut a glance at Lauren.

  She was pale beneath her creamy tanned complexion, dark eyes wide, and the head scarf had fallen to her shoulders. I glanced behind her, but there were no guards in her wake. That was . . . odd. I didn’t have any time to think about it, however, as the dragon prince broke her silence. “You would defend a hunter of Weard?”

  “Retired,” I interjected with a lazy smile at the dragon.

  She ignored me, her fiery gaze focused on Lauren. “Well? You burst into my audience chamber and now say nothing?”

  “If I say nothing, it is because I believe in being careful with one’s words.”

  Lauren didn’t glance at me, yet I couldn’t help the half smile that pulled at my lips. A very subtle scolding, indeed. It was almost enough to distract me from the fact that she had ruined my plan. The smile vanished.

  “Mathias was in the employee of Weard Enterprises when I first met him, but he is no longer.” Lauren took a step forward, squaring her shoulders despite being the shortest person in the room, and raised her chin slightly. “With respect, great one, we came here because we knew Weard’s hunters would not be permitted to follow us. We came here for a momentary respite.”

  “We?” The dragons exchanged a look and then Cesarina casually strolled back to the globe. She raised a hand and glowing lights appeared to hover over the surface. “These globes chart back to older days when it was not always easy to keep track of the paranormals. Now, I use it to monitor the movements of threats. For such knowledge is treasure to me. Add to my collection, little Spotter, and I might be swayed to release this . . . abomination.”

  Lauren stepped closer to the dragons, moving past me. My hands flexed with the urge to grab her by the hand and pull her behind me. I forced myself to stay still, however. Keeping an eye on her, I turned my attention to assessing the room for the best escape route.

  “You say knowledge is treasure and you are wise,” she began, showing the wisdom of flattering a dragon first. “I do not hold great stores of knowledge though I confess to ever seeking it. Therefore, I fear I can offer only a little that might be of worth to you. I have travelled with Mathias from the moment we escaped Weard’s hunters nearly a year ago. He could have betrayed me at any time or abandoned me. He chose to leave the life he knew in order to protect me. He is Myrmidon, yes, but we have fought for each other. I in turn have saved his life.”

  She yanked her right sleeve back and held up her arm, exposing the golden tattoo. “If you do not know it, O Prince of Venice, this is the mark of a Myrmidon bride. I was sent through the Trials of Achilles and survived. I have faced royal dragons in Thrace, Weard’s hunters, griffins in the tomb of an Amazon Queen, and the Lamia in Greece. All of them, I faced for his sake. Believe me when I say I am not the type of woman to make such sacrifices lightly or for a man who cannot be trusted.” She paused and dipped her head slightly as she murmured, “I trust too in the fact that you as a wise and reasonable ruler will not doubt the magnitude of the tasks I have already faced for the sake of this man . . . nor request another trial.”

  I smothered a grin. Lauren Hope telling off a dragon prince in a very careful and polite way. I never thought to see the day. Despite the urge to point it out, I kept my mouth shut.

  The dragon prince’s face was unreadable as she tapped her fingers against her thigh. “I see. This . . . abomination . . . He is important to you. Important enough that you would face me, a royal dragon, though I can sense the fear quivering within.” She moved closer to Lauren and leaned down as she took a deep breath. “Though that is not all I sense within you. How very . . . unexpected.”

  Lauren closed her eyes and opened them again. Her body language screamed of her discomfort, yet she gave no ground. “You are not the first royal dragon I have faced for his sake. Though, I do hope you are the last. Pr
ince Ciril of Thrace may give you further knowledge of our meeting, but I will share why he spared us both when we made our way into his territory. He spared us because he knew that the new leader of Weard Enterprises, the one who so boldly and brazenly ignores the common laws of courtesy and who is making a sport out of hunting down non-threatening paranormals such as myself for the purpose of abusing our gifts, is crossing too many lines. He hunts the paranormals who cannot easily withstand the power of his hunters. He risks exposure to the norms. And, he does not care whether the dragons or the Fae object. If you kill us or turn us over to Weard in the name of peace, you will only hasten the demise of the very peace you seek to protect. That is what Prince Ciril knew, and now I have shared it with you.”

  The dragon prince straightened, her features hard and unreadable. She glared down her aquiline nose at Lauren before turning her fiery gaze to me. “What do you know of Royal Carith?”

  “He was a friend.”

  “Is still a friend,” Lauren corrected. “He helped us escape Britain by laying a false trail, though we’d heard he’d been . . . wounded.”

  The dragon prince’s mouth quirked in a humorless smile as her gaze returned to the globe. “Weard Enterprises has dared to place a price on his head and those of other members of the Carith and Krall clan. Both in the Old World and the New. This . . . leader has caused disruptions to the entire clan even to the point of forcing the Carith and Krall twins in the States to call on their contacts in the rest of the paranormal world for help protecting their PR firm. Others besides Royal Carith have been driven underground.”