Master of None (18 page)

“A what?”

“Never mind.” I slowed and stopped for a red light, using the opportunity to scope the vehicles around us. Had to watch for tails. A green car and a white truck idled on the opposite side. Behind us, a rust-scarred Escort rolled to a stop ten feet back with a prolonged squeal. Bad brakes. I sympathized with the condition—must’ve replaced my pads three times in less than a year. Older Escorts ate brakes like candy.

The light turned. I went straight, and the Escort waited to hang a looey. We weren’t being followed. Yet.

Ian crossed his arms and rubbed them. “This is freezing. How can you tolerate being so cold?”

“I have to stay awake somehow.” I took another glance around. No tails. I didn’t dare relax, though. “Once we’ve put some miles behind us, we’re going to have to stop somewhere.”

“We must keep moving.”

“I need sleep.”

Ian sighed. “Fine. Perhaps another motel?”

“No. Too risky. I’ll find a place to pull off the road for a while and crash in here.” A few more miles, and we’d hit Elbridge. I’d been through there once after a job in Syracuse and hidden in a huge public park for a while to let the heat die down. I could make it that far. Probably. After that, we’d have to make some decisions. Couldn’t keep running forever.

“So. How long do we have until the Morai conquer the world and enslave humanity?”

Ian stared at me like he was trying to decide if I was serious. “At the moment, that is not possible,” he said. “I have ensured that they cannot return to the djinn realm.”

“Yeah, you said that before. How does it become possible? I’m guessing there’s a chance somewhere.”

He looked away. “It will be possible when there is no Dehbei blood remaining in this realm.”

“Why?” I stifled a yawn. “Is your clan the only one who can do that thing with mirrors?”

“No. Blood magic is a shared strength among all the djinn, because it is direct in nature.” His features went blank. “When we were first banished here, we sought a way to contain the Morai. Under Kemosiri’s terms, we could not return until every Morai had been destroyed. The twelve of us created a barrier between the realms through which no Morai could pass.”

“That sounds . . . complicated.”

He nodded. “The theory resembles that of your human
DNA. The spell refuses Morai blood and is kept functioning with Dehbei blood. It took all of us together to generate the enchantment, but the existence of any living Dehbei ensures that the barrier will not fall.”

I thought I understood. I’d seen enough forensic cop shows to grasp the basics. “So they can’t get back unless all of you die,” I said. “Where’s the rest of your clan?”

He flinched. And didn’t answer me.

“Ian?”

His eyes closed. “Dead.”

He whispered the word, but it felt as if he’d backhanded me with it. “All of them?” I croaked.

“Yes.” His lips barely moved. “In our realm, killing one another is no simple task. Here it requires only possession of the correct tether. None of my clan had ventured to your realm, even before the Council banned travel between them, so we failed to lend this condition sufficient importance. The Morai did not.” He swallowed hard. “In addition, they had learned to use humans to amplify blood magic. They had been here longer and were far more powerful. One by one, they destroyed us. And now, I am the last of the Dehbei.”

All of the breath left me at once, and I almost crashed the damned car. I couldn’t come up with a thing to say. Sympathy had never been my strong suit, and I didn’t think
Sorry about your clan’s impending extinction
would be appropriate
.
Jesus. If I was him, I’d have probably committed suicide three or four centuries ago.

Finally, I decided I had to say something. “How did you survive?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I learned to use blood magic as well, though I did not stoop to the level of the Morai and force humans
to drink my blood. Instead, I produced offspring with humans. Descendants who would carry my blood and allow me to amplify my power without the need to harm or enslave them.”

I would’ve been pissed that he’d fathered a bunch of kids just to use them for magic, but he obviously hadn’t had a choice there. “Why didn’t the Morai do that? Make descendants, I mean.”

“They cannot. The spell that binds us to our tethers also renders our fertility dormant. Only the stronger Bahari can undo this dormancy. Akila has done this for me.” He looked down. “I had intended only to survive, but I soon realized there was another benefit to having descendants. They contain Dehbei blood. And should I be destroyed, the barrier will stand as long as my descendants remain.”

A shiver crawled up my spine. Reluctantly, I said, “How many do you have?”

“Initially, I went too far,” he said softly. “I had lost my entire clan, and my bloodlust for revenge drove me to crave power. As much as possible. I impregnated dozens of human women, as I mentioned before. For a time, it seemed I would succeed. No Morai could stand against me, and I alone reduced their numbers by half. They learned to hide from me rather than seek to destroy me directly. Eventually, they discovered what I had done and began to hunt down and kill my descendants.”

“Hold on,” I said. “I thought the djinn couldn’t kill humans.”

“It is possible under certain extreme conditions and then only when in animal form. But the Morai had no need to create these conditions. They simply used humans, who have no difficulty killing one another. Just as Trevor is being used in their attempt to destroy you.”

As chilling as his explanation was, he still hadn’t answered my question. “How many are left, Ian? How close are these bastards to overthrowing both of our worlds?”

I guessed the answer before he gave it. “You and your son are the last.”

“Of course we are.” My hands squeezed the wheel hard. Damn it, I never wanted this. I was just a two-bit thief. Saving the world wasn’t on my to-do list. But I’d have to go through with it if I didn’t want to die or get the son I’d just found out I had killed in the process.

My fantastic luck never let up.

After several moments of silence, Ian spoke without prompting. “They will be safe.”

“Huh?” I knew he’d spoken English, but I must have missed something. Maybe I’d fallen asleep for a few seconds. Not a good sign. “What’ll be safe?”

“Your woman, your son. Akila will protect them from the Council.”

I nodded, my throat tight. Somehow I got the feeling that there was no one to protect Akila. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“I know.” He clasped one hand over the other and rubbed his right thumb against the base of his left index finger, the motion absent and reflexive. A glowing band of golden light appeared. It shone brightly for a moment, then faded away. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew right away what the band meant.

At least the djinn didn’t have to worry about losing their wedding rings.

“When two djinn are bonded, it is for life,” Ian said. “I am not certain whether human bonds embrace the same vows, but it is obvious you love this woman. Hold to the knowledge that
you will be reunited.” He turned to the window. “Distance can be overcome. Death cannot.”

For the first time, I considered how hard this must be on Ian. They’d banished him for trying to save them, and he’d been separated from his wife for centuries. She’d obviously waited for him all this time. It had to be torture, never to touch each other, communicating with blood through cold mirrors or whatever else passed for a reflective surface . . .

The symbol. I knew I’d seen it before, and I suspected figuring out where would help. The recollection lurked somewhere in the fog just outside my sleep-deprived brain: crescent, dot, squiggle. Not drawn in blood but . . . carved? Maybe I’d seen it in a museum somewhere, though that didn’t seem likely. I’d never been culturally inclined.

But I knew someone who was.

At once I remembered exactly where and how I’d seen the thing: Fremont. Lark, the mythology-obsessed hookup I’d damn near killed. His place was practically a museum anyway, so I hadn’t given a second thought to the stone tablet he’d covered up fast when he noticed me looking. Twelve squares, bearing what looked to me like
Hieroglyphs for Dummies
. One had been Ian’s symbol.

Twelve squares, for twelve Dehbei. Lark knew about the djinn.

He also hated my guts. I hoped being able to introduce him to a real live djinn would soften him up a little . . . at least enough to prevent him from killing me on the spot.

I grinned despite my exhaustion. When Ian gave me a look that suggested I’d lost my last few marbles, I said, “Ever been to Fremont?”

Sycamore Point boasted acres of trails and paths—plenty of room to ensure a little privacy. I drove to a deserted spot near the back of the place, pulled the Acura offroad, and parked behind a massive evergreen. When I announced my intention to pass out, Ian didn’t protest. In fact, he offered to keep watch while I slept in the backseat.

Somehow I wasn’t surprised to wake two hours later and find him gone.

I hauled myself out and panned the area. Saw nothing but nature. Fantastic. I resolved to have a little talk with Ian about wandering off and leaving me asleep and defenseless against thugs, cops, and bounty hunters. Soon as I found him.

Sudden thirst drove me in the direction of water sounds. Maybe a little rehydration would clear my muzzy head. Still, two hours of sleep had done wonders for my attention span.

Now I could really concentrate on what deep shit we were in.

I spotted the source of the rushing sound through a clump of trees. A small brook ran through the grounds, complete with wooden footbridge and a few benches along the opposite
bank. As I neared the bridge, another sound came in under the water’s whisper. Foreign words, spoken low and fast. I stayed out of sight and looked for the source, though I suspected I knew.

The brook curved away from a reflecting pond several yards to my left. Ian lay on his stomach at the edge of the pond, staring into the surface like a cat mesmerized by fish. One hand trailed in the water. He said something, paused, shook his head.

I crept closer, until I could see the pond’s surface and Akila’s face just beneath it. She looked like someone had just shot her puppy.

Alarms shrilled through my head. I dropped caution and closed the distance in microseconds. “What happened?”

Ian stiffened as if my voice was a knife in his gut. “Must you creep up on me like that?”

“I’m a thief, remember? Stealth, surprise, all that shit.” I sat next to him with a frown. “You know, you’re a lousy lookout. I think you and I have different definitions of standing watch. To me, it means sticking around to make sure the bad guys don’t kill me in my sleep.”

“You were in no danger.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I glanced at Akila’s reflection again. She’d tried to smile, but it was an empty funeral expression. A sorry-your-life-is-over kind of curve.
Jazz ,
I thought immediately. “Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“Nothing.”

“Gahiji-an . . .” Akila whispered.

“Nothing,” Ian repeated firmly. “I wanted to ensure that your woman and son were safe. They are. Now give me a few moments’ privacy.”

“Gahiji-an, you should tell him.”

“It is not his concern.” Ian closed his eyes. “Leave us, thief. I will join you in a moment.”

I didn’t budge. “Not until you spill. I thought we talked about this. We’re in this together, remember?”

“How could I forget?” he said under his breath.

When he didn’t elaborate further, Akila spoke in tight tones. “The Council has agreed to shelter them temporarily. However, they are—”

“Akila!”

“He must know.” A flush colored her skin. “They have realized that the child carries Gahiji-an’s blood. They seek the one who broke his dormancy and allowed him to create descendants in the human realm, as it is forbidden. Further, my father has entered a motion to extend Gahiji-an’s banishment permanently. The Council debates this now.”

Her desolate words kicked me in the teeth. “Ian, I can’t . . . damn. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to let you send them. Can’t you cancel this, have them come back? I’ll find a way to keep them safe.”

Ian shook his head. “It is done, thief. And they will not be safe here. You know that.”

“But . . .” I dropped to a whisper. “You can’t stay here forever. I mean, what about your wife? You’ll never see her again. Because of me.”

“You are not at fault, Gavyn Donatti.” Akila’s voice shivered as a slight breeze rippled the water’s surface. “This is my father’s doing.”

“Kemosiri would have found a way to accomplish this, even if I had not sent them,” Ian said. “He hopes the Morai will destroy me here, but if I should survive, he wishes to ensure that I do not return. So my barbarian blood does not taint his
lineage.” He turned his attention back to Akila. “Perhaps you are better off without me, love,” he whispered. “He would not make things so difficult for you then.”

“Do not say such things.” This time, there was no breeze to blame for the catch in her voice. “My discomfort is nothing compared with what he’s put you through.”

Ian lifted his head and gave me a cool stare. “You are still here.”

“Um, yeah.”

He sighed. “A moment, Donatti. Please.”

“Oh. Right.” I scrambled up and strode back toward the car. It wasn’t easy, but I’d actually started to sympathize with King Grumpy—at least when it came to the women in our lives.

I LOCATED THE CAR AGAIN WITHOUT TROUBLE
. B
UT
WHEN I
opened the driver’s-side door, something sharp stung the back of my neck. I slapped at it, expecting a bee or a wasp. Instead, I dislodged a slender object tipped with a metal point and capped with a crushed ball of white cotton. A dart.

I bent to pick it up—and my body kept going down. Muscles that had turned to water no longer responded to my mental demands to move. I was melting like the Wicked Witch.

“Whaargh . . .” I managed to garble before my mouth succumbed to the spreading lethargy. Curled on my side, unable to move, I watched a pair of sneakered feet enter my field of vision and stop. They seemed familiar.