Master of None

by Sonya Bateman

  The gun came up. Trevor took aim and fired.

  CHAPTER 32

  The bullet ripped through Ian’s thigh. He dropped to his knees. Trevor fired twice more, putting one in his shoulder, another straight to the gut. Ian collapsed with a groan.

  I finally got a grip on the modified rifle. My hands shook so hard I half expected bullets to start rattling in the chamber and give my position away. Despite my conviction that I could make an exception for Trevor, I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to go through with killing a human being—even if he only fit that term loosely. Guess I’d find out. I tried to aim for his torso. Bigger target, better chance at actually hitting the bastard. My finger rested on the trigger.

  Then Trevor reached down and hauled Ian up with one arm. Might as well’ve been a brick wall between us. Even if I was a good shot, I couldn’t have hit him.

  “You have nothing left. Do you? No power at all.” Trevor shook him. “You can’t be as foolish as you seem. Why did you come here? What are you hiding?”

  When Ian didn’t answer, Trevor drove a fist into the gut wound. Ian’s body went slack, but Trevor held him up.

  I took a few careful steps to one side, looking for an opening to plug him. Come on, damn it. Move. But Trevor didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere. I half suspected he knew I was here.

  “You broke the seal. You must have known it would drain you. How did you plan to leave, with a weak cripple and no power of your own?”

  Ian slowly raised his head. And spit at him. I damn near cheered aloud.

  Trevor ignored the blood-flecked saliva sprinkling his face. “You will answer me. As I said, I have waited four centuries for this. I can be patient longer. Hours, perhaps even days.”

  Nothing. Ian didn’t even blink.

  I managed another few cautious steps. Couldn’t afford to miss with the first shot, because I wouldn’t get a second chance. I almost had a clear line when Trevor snarled and dragged Ian toward his collection of restraints. Away from me. Once again ruining my shot.

  “We can do this the long way. In fact, I look forward to it.” Still clutching Ian by the vest, he tucked the gun in his waistband and grabbed a set of iron manacles. He jacked Ian’s arms behind him and cuffed them tight. “How do you prefer your pain?”

  In a blink, Trevor slammed him face-first against a wall. Ian let out a breathless gasp. I drew a bead, but he jerked Ian back almost as fast as he’d bashed him. “What shall we use?” He scanned the room, and his gaze settled on the mirror. A grim smile stretched his lips. “How interesting. Your finger barely bleeds. Yet you have not healed your other wounds, and the blood on the mirror is fresh.”

  My breath stopped.

  “You would never have planned to leave yourself defenseless. The blood is not yours. You have taught your pet some new tricks. He is here as well.” He paused. “Donatti.”

  I felt the personality switch when my name left his lips. Lenka must have been pushed back by the force of Trevor’s rage. “Disgusting thief! I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

  Despite my horror, I couldn’t help feeling a quick swell of pride. The bastard had just paid me the ultimate criminal compliment. I wouldn’t add him to my Christmas card list, though.

  “Come out! I’m going to rip out your tongue and feed it to my dogs, you slippery little shit!” He shoved Ian to the floor and whipped the gun back out.

  Finally.

  I took an extra second to attempt a steady aim and pulled the trigger before I could talk myself out of it. The boom and kick of the weapon were rifle-strength, earsplitting, slamming back down my arms and damn near knocking me over. I held my ground.

  Trevor didn’t. The shot took him in the side and spun him around almost completely. He hung unbalanced on one leg for a heartbeat and toppled over like a bowling pin.

  Bile clogged my throat, and I had to resist a compulsion to throw the gun across the room. I’d just shot a man. No idea if I’d killed him, but he was down, and he wasn’t moving. Heart thumping my ribs, breath whistling like a kettle, I kept the piece on him and crept forward.

  Ian coughed and stirred. He rolled onto his side with a harsh groan. “Thief . . .”

  “I’ve got this. Just hold on.”

  He tried to say something else, but a convulsive coughing fit overcame him. I had to get him out of here fast.

  I reached Trevor and found him still alive. His half-open eyes were twitching, rolled back to whites. He breathed in shallow hitches. The blast hole torn through his shirt revealed a bloodied eruption of glistening pink flesh. Blood soaked the material and pooled on the floor. Glimpses of the snake tattoos on him almost appeared to be writhing, as if they were trying to crawl away from the wound.

  After kicking his gun away from his outstretched hand, I grabbed the pendant, jerked it over his head, and stuffed it into a pocket. The other tether . . . what the hell did Tory say? Something small and round in his pocket. A ring or a coin. I knelt and thrust a hand into the pocket that wasn’t soaked with blood and came up empty. Of course. I reached into the wet pocket. Felt something solid and pulled it out. It was a coin, about the size of a half-dollar, gleaming silver under crimson streaks, embossed with worn markings that were probably djinn writing.

  Trevor hissed a rattling breath. His entire body jerked. Maybe he was dying. I folded the coin in my hand and started to stand, and Trevor’s hand flew up and made a grab for me.

  “Jesus!” I stumbled back. His eyes were still trying to stare at his brain. He didn’t move again. Might’ve been some kind of bizarre nerve reaction, since he couldn’t see me. I was still invisible.

  Ian let out a moan. At least he’d stopped coughing. He tried to get up.

  “Don’t,” I told him. “We’re leaving in a minute.”

  He made a garbled sound. If there were any words in it, I didn’t catch them.

  I crouched near Ian. If I could manage to destroy Lenka’s tether, everything stopped. Still holding the gun, I reopened the cut on my finger with my teeth and smeared blood on the face of the coin. Easier than opening a bridge, I reminded myself. Just the blood and the words. And every bit of strength I had left.

  Trevor screamed and jolted up to a seated position, as if someone had tied a rope around his neck and pulled. Pink-tinged foam bubbled from his lips. His arms jerked and flapped like a kid playing airplane, and his head lolled forward bonelessly.

  He was half-dead, and Lenka was still moving him around. I had to finish this now.

  Focus. The familiar electric sensation balled in my chest and built to a rapid crescendo of pain. I tuned out the horror show that was Trevor and Ian’s now-breathless attempts to speak. Nothing but me and the coin. Seconds away from ending this nightmare.

  Another chilling scream left Trevor’s mouth. He fell over and flopped a few times. Then he raised an arm and slapped his own face. His eyes flew open, and one hand jerked and twitched toward the inside of his jacket.

  The grotesque display robbed most of my focus, and gathering the threads again took precious seconds. Ian gasped something that I failed to understand. Some distant part of my mind realized it was probably important, but I couldn’t stop now. Words. I had to say them.

  I opened my mouth to speak—and realized I wasn’t invisible any more.

  At once, Trevor bolted to his knees and lunged at me with impossible speed. I brought the gun up and fired twice. At least one shot hit him. But he still collided with me and knocked me flat.

  A new pain exploded in my throat. Electric but manmade. Taser.

  My muscles went on strike. I crumpled to the floor, vaguely aware of the coin clattering from my fingers outside a cocoon of agony. Something that felt like a wrecking ball rammed my stomach. The blow cleared some of my mental fog, but then the Taser went off in my side. The world blurred again.

  Dimly, I heard Trevor shrieking while he juiced me over and over. I fought to stay conscious. And lost.

  EITHER THERE WAS AN EARTHQUAKE IN PR
OGRESS, OR SOMEone had surgically implanted a giant joy buzzer in my stomach.

  I opened my eyes and realized that was about all I could move. It didn’t look as if I’d been out too long, though. Trevor knelt on the floor six or seven feet from me. The second shot had taken him in the thigh. His head hung limp, a broken thing. He gasped every intake of breath and cried out every exhale. The bloodied coin lay on his palm.

  “Thief.” Ian’s voice behind me, raw with shock.

  I wasn’t sure I could answer him. It took three tries to remember where my tongue was. “Wha’?” I slurred through a mouthful of drool.

  “You are visible.”

  “Noticed.” I squeezed my eyes shut, opened them, and tried to move. Anything. One finger might’ve twitched. The vibrating buzzer in my core sent out needles.

  “Ssssilence.” The awful, grating word came from Trevor. His head winched up with a series of popping jolts. Tendons bulged in his neck. Agony and rage blazed from his eyes. His fingers spasmed around the coin, and his arm lifted with the same jerking fits.

  “. . . no . . .”

  Despite his strengthless protest, Trevor’s hand stayed on course and shoved the coin into his mouth. He gagged immediately and tried to spit it out. His eyes widened so much that I was convinced they’d burst in their sockets. Finally, he swallowed hard and gasped for breath. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Kill you,” he spat. “Swear . . .”

  He went completely still. More spasms and twitches moved through him, puppeting his arms, stripping away his tattered shirt. The tattoos looked sunken into his flesh, as though they were squeezing him.

  Immediately, one of the snakes glowed fire-red. Not just a trick of the light this time. And from Trevor’s agonized expression, whatever lit those lines didn’t tickle. His arms rose, his head fell back. Slender wisps of smoke formed along the edges of the coal-bright snake. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the room, and I suppressed a gag.

  This explained the unusual qualities of Trevor’s tattoo work. No ink involved. Just fire.

  I couldn’t look away from him. The glow spread to encompass the entire area between the outlines of the snake. His skin blistered and bulged until a thick, bright red tube looped around his torso, over one shoulder, under the other. Red faded to black and became glistening, close-set scales. A snake. Sliding in lazy motion across limbs and body as if Trevor was its favorite tree.

  Lenka, I presumed.

  The snake’s head lifted from behind Trevor’s shoulder, bobbing and weaving like an Indian cobra in a charmer’s thrall. It gave a threatening hiss and streaked down Trevor’s body to coil on the floor. White light enveloped the snake, and its shape shifted. The transformation yielded a tall figure clad in deep blue velvet robes. Pale white skin, as cold and smooth as marble save for the tattooed scale pattern on his hairless head. Eyes the color of fresh blood, with narrow slits for pupils. And serrated ivory teeth nearly as sharp as the fangs of the snake he’d been seconds before.

  The instant Lenka completed his transformation, Trevor collapsed.

  Ian snarled something in djinn. It was definitely not a friendly greeting. Smirking, Lenka kicked Trevor’s inert form aside and crouched in front of me. He tipped his head and stared at me as if I was an exhibit in a freak show.

  “My hair on fire?” I croaked.

  “You intended to destroy me. Didn’t you, thief?” Lenka flashed a ghoulish grin. “Clever. I admit, I never would have guessed that Gahiji-an would teach you this. Or that you would be able to learn. Such a smart dog. But as clever as you are, I doubt you can pick a stomach.”

  “Release him, Lenka.” Ian’s voice wavered like an old man’s. “You have me.”

  Vicious laughter answered him. “The dog is more intelligent than his master. No. He will stay and witness your death. Then experience his own. My pet wants this one for himself.”

  I made a sound that would’ve been a laugh if my lungs worked. “Think your pet’s dead.”

  “I am afraid he is not. How unlucky for you.” Lenka rose and hovered over Trevor. He held a hand out and chanted in djinn. The gaping hole in Trevor’s side started knitting itself back together.

  Great. Now that I’d shot him, he was really going to be my best friend.

  He finished in less than a minute. Trevor shot to his feet, teeth bared, and grabbed my gun off the floor. He knelt and pressed the muzzle to my forehead. “I’d blow your skull apart right now, Donatti, if it wasn’t too good for you. You aren’t worth wasting one of your own bullets.”

  “Patience, my hot-blooded pet,” Lenka said. “It will be time to hurt them soon.”

  I pulled a grimace. “Can we reschedule? I have a hot date.”

  Trevor grabbed a handful of shirt, hauled me up, and backhanded me with the gun. Lightning flashed through my head and sizzled across my vision.

  “Enough,” Lenka commanded. “Bind him, and summon your men.”

  “Fine.”

  Trevor dropped me. I landed hard and coughed out a spray of blood. He stalked over to the restraint collection, grabbed a length of rope, and returned to kick me facedown, then knelt on my back and started tying.

  “Get the pendant from him,” Lenka said when he finished.

  Trevor got the right pocket on the first try. He tossed Shamil’s tether to Lenka and pulled a phone from his back pocket. He dialed and almost immediately barked, “Get your asses down here, right now.”

  “Now, then.” Lenka moved toward the alcove, where Shamil remained bound and unconscious. “I have little use for the sharmoot now, save for one last infusion. And so I will allow him to keep this.” He snapped the cord, reached in, and tied it tight around Shamil’s neck.

  Ian loosed a wordless roar. He almost managed to stand. But almost wasn’t enough.

  “You are displeased?” Lenka sneered. “I have returned his tether to him. I cannot be blamed that he does not take advantage of the opportunity.”

  “You’ve not changed, Lenka. You and your kin have always excelled at crushing the weak and defenseless.” Ian paused for a wheezing breath. “Face me fairly. Prove you can best me, as you failed to do before.”

  Lenka’s smile didn’t waver. “I swear it will be done, and soon. Perhaps sooner than you may wish, Gahiji-an.” He pulled something from his robes with a showman’s gesture. A short, curved knife. Turning back toward the still form in the alcove, he reached up into the shadows and came back with a gold-plated goblet. He pushed the cup against Shamil’s stomach and sliced his flesh just above the rim.

  Shamil’s head flew up, tilted back. The cord prevented him from making a sound as his blood pulsed into the goblet. Shock kept me from screaming obscenities, and Ian groaned in sympathy.

  “Come and drink, my pet.” Lenka gestured at Trevor.

  As Trevor made his way across the room with faint disgust stamped on his features, the sound of an opening door drifted down the stairs. Heavy footsteps followed. Four thugs filed into the basement, Leonard among them.

  Trevor took the cup. He finished fast and dashed it aside. “Happy?”

  “Nearly.” Lenka’s expression lost its amusement. He pointed at the thugs. “Bring them to the sitting room, and search them both. We will join you shortly. I want full power to deal with them.”

  The goons split two and two. Of course, I got the pair with Leonard. They each grabbed an arm and dragged me toward the stairs. I couldn’t have walked if I’d wanted to, but some of the feeling was starting to flood back into my limbs. It wasn’t a warm, soothing feeling.

  But I didn’t exactly expect a massage and a foot rub in my immediate future.

  CHAPTER 33

  Being tied to a chair wasn’t a new experience for me. Last time, though, I hadn’t been naked. Well, I was almost naked. They let me keep my drawers on, but it didn’t make the wooden seat any softer or less cold. My ass had fallen asleep by the time Trevor and Lenka entered the room.

  “Found this on him.” Leonard approached Lenka with th
e fake tether—for all the good it’d do. Having a dupe now defeated the purpose. They’d figure it out pretty quickly when Ian didn’t die.

  Lenka took it with raised eyebrows. He stared at Ian, who’d been tied on his feet to one of the pillars across the room. “What a shame. I had thought you a better strategist, Gahiji-an. Unless this is another of your tricks?”

  “You are too quick for me, Lenka.” Ian’s words sank under the weight of his sarcasm. “I question how I have managed to evade you for so long.”

  Lenka fell silent. His gaze traveled the room slowly, as if he was searching for the perfect tool to teach Ian some manners. Finally, he waved a hand at the two remaining thugs. “Leave us. I want everyone up and on guard. Search the grounds—these two may have brought reinforcements.”

  My last spark of hope was snuffed out with his orders. We were all dead.

  The thugs filed out and closed the door behind them. Lenka looked from Ian to me and back. “I do not trust you not to lie, Dehbei scum. Perhaps this is your tether, perhaps not. We shall find out soon.” He moved toward Ian. “If this is not your tether, I will enjoy persuading you to locate it for me.”

  Ian pulled a smile. “You have gotten uglier since I saw you last.”

  “I take pride in my clan, Dehbei,” Lenka snarled. “Your appearance is disgusting. You degrade yourself, aping these pitiful humans.” He pointed a finger and murmured.

  Ian screamed and writhed against the ropes holding him.

  “Ah. It has been long since I cast a flame curse. How satisfying.” After a long minute, Lenka gestured. Ian slumped immediately. “Do not trouble yourself thinking you will die in the same manner as your father, rayan.” The djinn word fell heavy with mockery. “No. I have something special in mind for you. Something that will take far longer.”

  “Gods curse you.” Ian gasped. “Or better yet, allow me.”

  His lips moved. One hand shifted in the ropes. Lenka’s mouth opened, and thick black fluid poured out to splash down his robes.

  Garbled sounds rose from the Morai’s throat. He dropped to one knee and clapped a hand over his mouth. The black stuff leaked from his nostrils and seeped between his fingers. It dribbled from his eyes like black tears. I had no idea what that gunk was, but it looked as if it hurt. And I didn’t think Ian knew any destructive spells. Too bad he never got to show me that one.