Page 53 of Roguefinder

About twenty minutes later, the ruins and apartment buildings receded and Rome loosened its grip.

The highway began to curve through rolling green hills flanked by forests and stone towns perched on ridges. Medieval towers dotted the centers like something out of a fairy tale.

“The towns in this area are called the Castelli Romani,” Jesse said.

I squinted through the rain streaking my window, my gaze fixed on the blurry lights that studded the hills. “People actually live up there?”

“For the last three thousand years. Some of these villages have been inhabited since Rome was a republic.”

Three thousand years. I’d spent twenty-three in a middle class suburb. If Ulfrik hadn’t come along, I might have spent the rest of my life in New York. But my lifespan wasn’t measured in decades anymore.

Jesse turned down a dirt road that wound between rows of bare-branched trees, the car’s suspension absorbing the ruts like they were a joke. A half-mile later, he stopped and let the engine idle.

“Want to drive?”

I was reaching for the door handle before he finished the question.

When I’d settled behind the wheel, he gave me a mild look. “Just so you know, this is the only time I’m down for switching.”

I huffed as I put the car in gear. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

He was still laughing when I punched the accelerator.

The engine purred. People said that about car engines all the time, but most of them had probably never driven a Lamborghini so they had no idea they were fucking wrong. Because purr didn’t fit some four-cylinder Honda with a spoiler compensating for its driver’s needle dick. No, that word belonged to the poetry of carbon fiber and leather around me.

The dirt road unspooled in a brown ribbon, and I pushed harder, feeling the rear end shift just slightly before the tires found their grip and launched us forward. Rain tapped the windshield. The wipers swept it clean in efficient arcs. When I approached a curve, I could have sworn the car read the road and leaned into it with me, the front end dropping like it knew exactly where I wanted to go before I did.

“Easy,” Jesse said, though his voice held more amusement than warning.

“I am being easy.”

“Sure you are.”

I came out of the curve and floored it down a straight stretch. The engine shifted from a purr to a throbbing wail that vibrated in my molars and made me feel like I straddled a subwoofer at a metal concert.

Quietly, Jesse reached up and grasped the grab handle above his door.

I stole glances at him, his joke about switching rattling around in my head. He was as toppy as they came, which was fine by me. Some people were born to lead and others were born to chew their way through the mattress, and I’d made my peace with which one I was.

On the other hand, he’d said he was open to me eating his ass. We’d never done it. Maybe it was time to change that.

We drove for another thirty minutes, the towns sliding into rain-soaked forests. Jesse caught my eye and grinned.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

“I’m having an orgasm,” I said.

“Caleb.”

“I’m serious. I think I’m an autosexual.”

He bit his lip. “Wrong terminology. Autosexual means you love yourself.”

I lifted a hand off the steering wheel and shuttled my fist in the air. “I do plenty of that, too, Professor van der Meer.”

Laughing, he directed me down a series of roads that grew progressively bumpier. When he pointed to a spot under a stand of gnarled oaks, I slowed and parked, killing the engine.

Rain misted the windshield. A forest rose around us, the trees wet and dripping. It was just a few hours past noon but the sky was dark with the promise of more rain.