Hunt by Numbers

by Kimberly A Rogers

  “You’re a Jinn, you can change us to any appearance you wish. Make us some kind of Fae, make us High Elves.” Natalia grasped his sleeve as she leaned forward, her words coming faster. “Elam, please. There must be another way. Do not ask me to leave my baby. I cannot abandon her.”

  “Natalia, my moon, we are not abandoning her.” Elam lowered his head toward her, once more blurring their numbers together. “This separation will not last. However, Weard has told the hunters to look for a family of three, and they know I am Jinn. They know how I can use my talents. The risk is too great.” He paused and then continued with reluctance, “I have made arrangements today. You and I will leave the country tomorrow, we will take care of what we must after we have laid a false trail into the territory of Auberon and Titania. Lauren will remain with a family I’ve chosen. They have no links to our proper names or our aliases, but they are a home where paranormals sometimes leave foundlings. Lauren will live with them for however long it takes us to complete this last mission, and they will believe that she is a half-Sprite, half-norm and that will protect her from hunters. And I . . . I will take care of the rest. No one will know she is still here. They won’t know we are travelling without her. And once it is finished, we will come back for her. We will go to my people. Weard won’t be able to find her there.”

  The covers in the foreground stirred slightly. Elam turned to the other bed, and then he leaned across to smooth the covers. He reached his hand out of sight of the mirror and murmured, “Go back to sleep, little one. Forget anything you heard.”

  The images blurred and once again disappeared behind swirling clouds. The mirror’s surface was covered for only a fraction of a second before it cleared once more. The distinct but faint light of dawn filled the image first. Then, Natalia was kneeling in front of Lauren. The indecision and sadness weighing in dark eyes so similar to her daughter’s was enough to make anyone with an ounce of empathy ache. Elam appeared behind her, his expression solemn. “Natalia, we must go.”

  Natalia took off her pendant necklace. I recognized the sapphire teardrop as the one Lauren had always worn until she was forced to give it up during the Trials. Natalia placed it around Lauren’s neck and then touched her chin, guiding her to look up at her. “What is your name?”

  “Lauren Serkan,” came the small voice. A small hand touched Natalia’s cheek. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  Natalia’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “No. Your name is Lauren Hope. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  Natalia smiled faintly. “Good. Now what is your name?”

  “Lauren Hope.”

  “Good girl.” Natalia smoothed her daughter’s hair, then kissed the top of her head. “Remember, Lauren, we do not speak of the numbers. And, you must be a brave little girl. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  Elam crouched beside his mate and wrapped his hands around her shoulders, pulling her with him as he stood once more. “Natalia, we cannot wait any longer. We must go. Get in the car.”

  “I know.” The words came so softly that they were almost indiscernible.

  Elam turned Natalia away and ushered her further and further. The mirror flickered, briefly showing a door to a simple house. The bright blue paint seemed friendly enough, but then the image changed and Elam was helping Natalia into a car. There was a low gasp and the small girl with her black hair bouncing in pigtails went running toward the car, arms outstretched. “Baba! Baba! Don’t leave! Don’t go, Baba! Take me too! Baba!”

  Natalia’s face crumpled, then she dropped her head into her hands as Elam shut the door. He ran around the front of the car to catch Lauren just as she reached the car. She threw her arms around his neck as he picked her up. He spoke but the words were indiscernible, only the cadence indicating that he was no longer speaking English. Something odd because I didn’t think they had been speaking only English in the other memories.

  He didn’t put her in the car. Instead, he carried her back to the house with the bright blue door. He set her down on the front porch and crouched down. Lauren whimpered, tears running down her rounded cheeks. “Take me too, Baba!”

  Elam wiped away the tears. “I can’t, my darling. Baba and Mama must leave you here for a little while. We must go stop some very bad men, but after that we will come back for you.”

  The little girl shook her head. “Take me too, Baba.”

  “I can’t. We can’t. You must stay here where you will be safe. Remember, you are Lauren Hope now. You must be brave, darling, brave like your Mama.” His mouth twitched into a wry smile. “She’s the bravest woman in all the world.” He tapped Lauren on the end of her nose. “And, so are you.”

  He kissed her on the forehead, turned, and walked away. She didn’t chase after him this time. But she still called softly, “Don’t leave, Baba.”

  The mirror clouded briefly and then went dark. Lauren drew a ragged breath as the Lore keeper broke the connection between her and the mirror. Tears were running in rivulets down her face. Then, her eyes rolled up.

  I leapt forward, barely catching her before she hit the ground. “Lauren!”

  Her eyelids fluttered, tears still leaking past to roll down her cheeks. I brushed the tears away, murmuring to her in Myrmidon, “I’m here. I’m here, heart-love.”

  Her eyelids moved, but didn’t open. I adjusted my hold on her so I could pull a dagger. I pointed it in the direction of the two Lore keepers. “What did you do to her?”

  Marie raised her hands. “Please, we caused no harm. However, I did not realize that a Jinn had blocked the memories. If I had, I would have unlocked them more slowly.”

  I frowned at her, still holding the dagger at the ready. Frost coated my voice as I demanded, “Why didn’t you?”

  The Lore keeper grimaced. “Memory retrieval is like unlocking a dam. You can either retrieve a single memory or you unlock the gates and allow everything to flow to the surface. Every emotion that was locked up with those memories has been unlocked. The experience can overwhelm or even shut down the conscious mind until she has time to finish processing the emotions.”

  I glanced down at Lauren. She was twitching now, distress written all over her face even though she didn’t make a sound. Ice flooded my veins and chilled my voice as I fixed the female Lore keeper with a hard stare. “Fix it. Now.”

  “I cannot,” she stated with far too much calm.

  “Why not?” I growled.

  “As I said, she must process the emotions connected with those memories. They were far more traumatic than I realized when we started.” The Lore keeper paused then added, “If she is strong, she will come through it.”

  “What happens if she can’t?”

  She blinked, but no other emotion was betrayed. Not even when she spoke. “Her mind will shut down, and she will not wake again.”

  “How long?”

  “Unknown.” She hesitated before adding, “If she recovers, tell her I remember her parents. Tell her I know more about them and their fate.”

  I sheathed the dagger and picked Lauren up. “I’ll consider it.” I turned my attention to the other Lore keeper, Daniel. “Can you get us out of here without going out the front?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I can do that. There’s a back tunnel. Marie and I use it when we work too late and don’t want to waste time explaining ourselves to the guards.”

  Carrying Lauren, I gladly put distance between the memory mirror and us. I wasn’t certain it hadn’t caused more harm than good. I wouldn’t know until she woke.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Lauren

  Bits and pieces of memory followed me wherever I went. The smell of jasmine, the taste of baklava and lokum, the thrill of being so high when Baba carried me or used his magic to hold me in the air like I was flying. But, there was also the overwhelming sense of loneliness when they disappeared. The bright blue door had led into a nice quiet house with a Sprite family. But, it
didn’t last.

  I could only tell them that my name was Lauren Hope. I didn’t know where my parents were anymore, and I couldn’t remember their names. I cried at night, but they never came back. Then, one night I stopped crying. When the Sprite family learned I knew Turkish, they decided my father must have been the one who was Turkish. But, they could not locate him. Efforts to find a Sprite who had a child with a norm ended in failure. After a year, they sent me to live with a new foster family. A family of Lupine shifters originally from Turkey that had promised to use their family connections to look in Turkey for my parents’ identity. Nothing came of it.

  It was in first grade that I first heard about the Spotters, the paranormals who saw numbers. I wanted desperately to ask the teacher questions, but something kept me from doing so. Instead, a classmate asked all sorts of questions with only a few answers available. Two days later, her parents and a pair of scary looking men with 8s over their heads took her out of school. It was the first time I realized high numbers were scary and bad. The Lupine family hadn’t kept me long, and I was back with the proper Fae, a Brownie family this time.

  After seeing my classmate disappear because of asking about Spotters, I knew I could never talk about the numbers I saw. Otherwise, they might come for me. Eventually, it made sense why my parents left me behind. I must not have been careful enough about the numbers. So high numbers came after them. Seeing the numbers turned into a curse.

  By the time I was eight, I had promised myself that I would never put other people in danger. I would never get close enough to trust anyone with the truth that I was a Spotter. I played with other children but never joined in sharing secrets, not my real secrets. And, I kept the habit all my life. Until . . . “Mathias.”

  I felt the ground move beneath me before my senses caught up with me and pronounced I was lying on something far too soft to be the ground. I opened my eyes a sliver. The tightness remaining around my heart eased completely when I glimpsed the glowing 10 leaning over me. I licked my lips, my throat feeling almost closed from want of water.

  Something cool touched my lips before I could even try to croak a request. Then, cool liquid swept past them to fill my mouth. The sense of relief as my parched throat eased beneath the onslaught of precious water was beyond words. I swallowed as I tried to pry my eyes open past a slit. Eventually Mathias’ face came into focus. He looked . . . relieved. “There you are, love. You had me worried for a small minute.”

  “What’s the difference?” I murmured.

  His lips twitched into a crooked smile. He looked tired. “Only in how long I needed to hold my breath.”

  I blinked slowly and turned my attention to the room. It was clean and simply furnished, but comfortable looking. I could see laundry lines flapping outside the window in the faint light of early morning. A crucifix hung on the wall directly across from me above a small writing desk area. The sheets were soft but worn, and the bed was carved out of aged wood. Behind Mathias, I could see a dressing table complete with mirror. There was a chest at the foot of the bed and I could just make out the etched lid.

  Mathias shifted beside me in an equally aged chair. He looked like he had slept in his clothes for several days. His jaw was slightly stubbled, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair looked mussed, as though he had been shoving his fingers through it and tugging.

  I started to sit up only for him to reach out a hand to hold me down. “Not yet. Stay still.”

  “I need to sit up, Mathias.”

  He frowned slightly, then his hand slid from my shoulder around to my back. “All right, let me help you.”

  My head spun when I sat up, and I would have collapsed back down if not for his support. I leaned against him as I blinked trying to summon memories. “What happened?”

  “The memory mirror overwhelmed your mind with the memories. Something those Lore keepers conveniently failed to mention was a potential side effect. I brought you here so you could recover in peace.”

  “Where is here?”

  “Ercolano still. I was able to get a hotel, but it’s more hostel than hotel. Only norms stay here, usually.”

  I looked up at that. “You brought us to a norm-run hostel. Why?”

  “I didn’t want to deal with dragons while you were vulnerable.” Mathias’ blue-green gaze was sharp and piercing despite the shadows bruising the skin beneath them as he moved to perch on the side of the bed and brought his arms more securely around me. “Are you certain you are all right? You were unconscious for three days. How are you feeling?”

  “Worn,” I admitted. Leaning further into his hold, I rested my cheek against his chest as I murmured, “All this time I thought it was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t. The mirror proved that, Lauren. It was never your fault. Your mother was a Seer, and she saw someone who was their friend betraying you and them.” Mathias’ grip around my shoulders tightened as his voice roughened, “It is as I said before, they left you because they had no other choice in the matter.”

  “I was Lauren Serkan,” I mumbled, still trying to wrap my head around the knowledge that my family name was different from ‘Hope.’

  Mathias didn’t say anything, but I felt him tense. Pushing myself upright, I looked into his eyes. “What is it? What aren’t you saying right now, Mathias?”

  He glanced down. “I know the name Elam Serkan.”

  I blinked at him. Then, I scowled. “If you are about to tell me that you are really in your hundreds, I will hit you with something.”

  His mouth twitched into a crooked half smile as he chuckled under his breath. “Nothing of the sort. However . . . I know the name because Elam Serkan was the only Jinn to ever be employed by Weard. When I first joined them, there was some speculation on whether I was half-Jinn.”

  I frowned slightly. I didn’t know that I really liked the idea of my father being a willing employee of Weard. Mathias had his past, of course, but he left Weard when it mattered.

  There was a touch to my hand, and I looked up to find Mathias watching me closely. His voice was gentle as he said, “Elam Serkan was best known as an artifact hunter. He later became a trainer of both hunters and the artifact retrieval teams. And if he was a Jinn, then it explains why Weard couldn’t find you as a child.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand.” Rubbing my throbbing temple, I muttered, “It’s not fitting together for me right now.”

  Mathias handed me a glass of water and dropped a single pill into my palm. “Take this. It will help take the edge off your headache, love.”

  I took the pill gratefully, washing it down with the water. I kept sipping at the water as I watched Mathias pull his go bag out and rest it on top of the chest. He unzipped it and then took out a now familiar if somewhat battered looking book. The one with information about as many paranormal species as was available.

  He sat down next to me again and opened the book. I tried to read, but my headache was still bad enough to blur the words on the page. Instead, attempting to look at the nauseating mess of letters, I rested my head against Mathias’ bicep and closed my eyes.

  His lovely British accent was more pronounced as he started reading. “‘Among the rarest and least known of the paranormal species are those known as the Jinn. While legends give them many different powers, only one talent has ever been confirmed. The talent of being hidden. The Jinn become living glamours whose enemies find it impossible to locate them even if they were to cross paths with each other. This living glamour in turn makes it difficult to access the Jinn despite the knowledge that they make their homes in the area of Jordan where Petra is carved out of the rocks. This is especially true if anyone attempts to find them without invitation. Entire settlements of Jinn appear nonexistent due to their living glamour.”

  “Living glamours?” I murmured. It seemed difficult to believe; yet, some small part of me rang with the truth of the words. This was . . . It was insane. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t possible.r />
  Mathias moved around and I opened my eyes enough to see him placing the book to the side. “Lauren, have you never felt hunted then witnessed the person hunting you walk past?”

  I frowned at him. “No. It means they weren’t hunting me.”

  “Actually I believe you have been subconsciously using your Jinn talent. It explains a lot of odd happenings in Roma.”

  I sat up so I could face him fully. “What are you talking about?”

  “Atalanta and Atlas.” When I shook my head, he touched my cheek. My hand came up to grasp his as my eyes rose to meet his gaze once more. Mathias ducked his head slightly. “When Atalanta was following you in Roma, she lost sight of us. Of both of us, something that shouldn’t have easily happened for a woman that is part shifter. Then less than a week later, we meet her again and not only does she not recognize you, but Atlas doesn’t know either of us. We were not recognized. And, that Lion knew me enough that he should have recognized my face. He didn’t know me until we met in the Colosseum when you were no longer around to include me in your glamour.”

  I almost shook my head, a denial already on my lips, before I stiffened. “He said I was using a glamour.”

  “Who?”

  “Prince Tao, the water dragon who cornered me. He knew who I was, but he also told me to stop using my glamour. But I wasn’t using . . .” The words trailed off into nothingness as I met Mathias’ knowing gaze. “I couldn’t have been using a glamour. I don’t know how.”

  Mathias raised a finger. “It’s an innate talent, a subconscious passive defense mechanism. But now that you know of it, know that it is in you, I think you would be able to learn how to use it.”

  “How to use it?” I pulled away from his touch and stiffly got to my feet. I rubbed my forehead as a headache pushed my thoughts into a muddled swirl. It just . . . It couldn’t be true. Yet, even as the protest formed in my mind, more memories surfaced . . . Roma wasn’t the first time I had avoided being hunted. All this time, I had assumed I simply had one of those faces that people didn’t really notice. I was average, passably pretty, but neither beautiful nor plain to the point of drawing attention to myself.