Master of None Page 32
I took care of business and headed for the stairs. On the way, I passed the room I’d watched Jazz tuck Cyrus into last night. The door stood open a crack, and I couldn’t resist peeking in. Morning light behind curtains decorated with cartoon dogs bathed the room in a soft glow. Cyrus sprawled on a pint-sized bed with sturdy plastic rails, a sheet tangled around his legs and a thumb resting loosely in his mouth. He somehow managed to occupy the entire mattress, even though it was twice as big as him.
My son. The phrase still seemed distant and muffled, like a dream. But it was getting easier to accept the title of father. I only hoped I’d prove worthy to carry the role.
I backed out and moved down the hall. A baby gate blocked off the top of the stairs. I took one look at the latch and stepped over it. No way I’d be able to get that thing open without at least a cup of coffee in me. Of course, if it had been a locked bank vault, I could’ve cracked it in my sleep. The irony did not escape me.
Downstairs, the door to the spare room Jazz had given to Ian and Akila remained closed. I smiled and moved on to the kitchen. Didn’t expect to see them for a while yet. They had four hundred years of catching up to do.
Jazz looked up from a newspaper spread on the table in front of her when I walked in. “Morning, Houdini. Want some breakfast? It’s on the stove.”
“In a minute.” I hung back and took in the sight of her. Oversized white cotton shirt, form-fitting tan pants, bare feet. No jewelry or makeup—she didn’t need it. She’d stopped wearing sunglasses in the house, probably for Cyrus, and her mismatched eyes were beautifully unapologetic. And despite the horrors of the past few days, she seemed relaxed and content.
I knew she wasn’t recovered, but she’d never let on about it. Typical Jazz.
She gave an exasperated snort, as if she’d just read my mind. “You going to eat before it gets cold or just stand there all day?”
“Sorry. Just enjoying the scenery.” I grinned and moved to the stove to help myself.
A page rustled behind me. “Did you just call me scenery?”
“Me? Never.” Plate full, I carried it over and settled in a chair next to her. I nodded at the paper. “Anything interesting in there?”
“Some rich guy’s house on the lake collapsed, night before last. Killed him and at least two other unidentified individuals. Tragic, really.” The ghost of a smile traced her lips, and she flipped back a few pages to show me an article accompanied by a flat color shot of Trevor’s half-toppled house. “Local Art Collector Dies in Unexplained Accident”, the headline stated.
“Mm-hm. A shame.” I forked a pile of scrambled eggs and tasted bliss. “Thank you for this,” I said.
She seemed to know I meant more than just breakfast. “You’re welcome.”
Conversation entered an easy lapse. I ate, she read. When I finished, I cleared my dishes, procured some coffee, and sat back down. Some of my contentment evaporated. I had to discuss a few things with her, and they weren’t going to be easy.
Jazz sensed my disquiet and put the paper aside. “What’s up?”
“I love you.”
That hadn’t been where I meant to start. It did get her attention, though. She smiled and covered my hand with hers. “I feel a ‘but’ coming on here.”
“Yeah. A big ‘but.’ ” I swallowed hot coffee. Despite the sugar I’d loaded it with, a bitter taste lingered in my mouth. “Being here with you, like this . . . it’s amazing. I’ve never been happier. I mean that,” I said before she could voice dissent.
She arched an eyebrow. “Get to the ‘but’ already.”
“However,” I said with the hint of a smile. It faded fast. “I can’t do this full-time. You know. Settle down and stay here forever.”
“Really. Have a lot of people to rob, do you?”
I probably deserved that, but it still hurt. “Actually, no. I’ve decided to retire.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Ian.” I sighed and looked away. “There’s still almost a hundred of those bastards out there. The Morai, I mean. And Ian has to hunt them all down by himself.” I shook my head, backtracked. “Well, he’s got Tory, but I don’t know how much help he’ll be.”
Jazz smirked agreement. A few hours in Tory’s presence was more than enough to realize that, five hundred years old or not, he still had some growing up to do. He and Lark had opted for a high-end hotel stay while the team Lark had already hired rebuilt his house. It wouldn’t take long. Lark’s money worked faster than djinn magic.
“Anyway, Ian would never admit to it, but I think he needs me.” I couldn’t begrudge him that. Didn’t think I’d ever admit that I needed him, too. “I’m going to help him. The thing is, as long as these guys are trying to get back to the djinn realm, they’ll be after me. And Cyrus. I just can’t—”
“Gavyn.”
“Wait, let me finish.” If I didn’t spit it out now, I’d give myself time to change my mind. “I’ve got to help him. It won’t be easy, and I won’t be around as much as I want. I’ll be ditching you both. Again. I promised no more disappearing acts, and I’m already breaking that promise.” My voice cracked at the end.
She looked at me. “Are you done?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now I can tell you what an idiot you are.”
“Christ, Jazz. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You obviously don’t know this.”
“I’m aware of my own stupidity, thanks.”
“Shut up, Donatti.”
I did. And she kissed me. I wanted to be angry—didn’t she know this was rubbing it in?—but my primal senses drowned everything except her lips on mine.
Jazz drew back. “I love you. But if you weren’t doing this, I don’t think I’d like you very much.”
“Huh?”
“I’m saying I agree with your decision. More than agree. And I’m going to help any way I can.” She touched my face and smiled. “You’ll stay when you can. Go when you need to. Think of it as a home base.”
“What about Cyrus?”
Her expression took on a touch of exasperation. “What about him? If you think he’s going to grow up hating you for not being around all the time, you don’t know little boys. He’ll think you’re a hero.”
I grunted. “Not likely.”
“You will be in his eyes. And mine.”
For a moment, I forgot how to speak. What I felt was too big for words. Finally, my mouth lapsed into habitual behavior.
“What kind of fringe benefits do heroes have around here? At the least, I expect to get the babe in bed.”
She kicked my shin. I yelped.
Low laughter from the doorway alerted me that my performance had been witnessed.
“You cannot help yourself, can you?” Ian said.
“With what?”
“Trouble. It clings to you like a shroud.”
“Yeah, and sometimes it follows me around like a djinn.” I grinned and added, “Good morning, trouble.”
Ian nodded in amused acknowledgment. “Tell me. What is this delightful smell?”
“Breakfast.” Jazz stood and gestured to the table. “Have a seat, Ian. I’ll get you some.”
“Oh, sure. Wait on him.”
“He complimented my cooking.” She rubbed my shoulder on her way to the stove, and I felt better. A little.
While she piled food on a plate, I refrained from glowering at Ian. “How long were you standing there this time?”
“I have only just arrived.”
“No invisible eavesdropping?”
“Not this time, thief.”
“Good.”
Jazz set the plate down in front of Ian with an authoritative thunk. “Settle down, boys. It’s too early for this.”
“Thank you, lady.” Ian sent me a smug look.
I drank my coffee and congratulated myself on my restraint.
A short electronic squawk behind me drew my attention. I turned and saw a squat plastic s
peaker box with a row of red lights and a short antenna sitting on the counter beside the stove. “That’s a pretty low-tech scanner you got there, Jazz. Does it transmit in Morse code?”
“It’s a baby monitor, you dope.” She reached over and twisted a knob. A steady hiss of air drifted from the speaker. Seconds later, there was a soft thump, then another. Like two pajama-clad feet landing in succession on the floor.
Cyrus’s voice came through as clearly as if he was in the kitchen with us. “Where Teddy?” Something rustled. “Ga. Teddy?” Crash! “Uh-oh. Boke it.”
Jazz grimaced and switched off the monitor. “Oh, boy. I’ll be back.”
I watched her rush from the room, then held my empty mug aloft. “Want some coffee?” I asked Ian. “I’ll pour, and you won’t even have to compliment me.”
He laughed. “Thank you, yes. That would be pleasant.”
“So.” I fished out another mug. “Where’s your wife?”
“She is resting.” Concern knitted his features. “Dealing with Lenka has exhausted her. I do not think she will recover quickly.”
“You might be surprised. Women are tougher than we think.”
“I do hope you are correct.” He accepted the cup I handed him and wrapped both hands around it. “I must remember to thank your Jazz for allowing us to rest here. Once Akila has regained her strength, we will move on.”
“Why? I’m sure Jazz won’t mind if Akila stays.”
He blinked. “She would rather I did not?”
“That’s not what I meant. She wants everyone to stay. I’m just talking about while we’re gone. I figured we could take this in stages—you know, maybe bag two or three and take a break. It’ll take a while to find all those evil snake dudes.”
Ian gave me a strange expression. “Did you say ‘we’?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It is my place to destroy the Morai. My responsibility. Not yours.”
“Well, now it’s mine, too.”
“You cannot—”
I glared at him. “Are you saying I can’t do it? Because I seem to remember exploding that slimeball pretty good.”
Ian sighed. “I did not mean it that way.”
“So you don’t want my help, then?”
“No. I . . .” He paused. “You have already done more than enough. You have seen Lenka. The rest of the Morai are no better, and they will not hesitate to kill you, given the opportunity.” Ian shook his head. “You have a family now, thief. I cannot ask you to continue risking your life for the realm. For me.”
“That’s retired thief to you,” I said. “And you don’t have to ask me. I’ve already decided, all by myself.”
“I do not understand. Why would you do this?”
“Because Jazz and Cyrus aren’t the only family I have.”
He looked at me as if I’d started speaking Martian.
I laughed. “You’ve got a lot to learn about humans, my friend. Or should I call you Grandpa?”
“That will not be necessary. Ian will do.” His features grew serious. “You are certain this is what you want?”
“Does a bear crap in the woods?”
“What?”
“Never mind.” I clapped his arm. “Look. You told me you were going to help me achieve my life’s purpose. Yeah, you were lying through your teeth at the time, but it worked anyway.” I looked at the silent baby monitor and imagined Jazz and Cyrus upstairs. “This is my life. It’s with her and with you.” I grinned. “Besides, why go back to stealing when I can save the world instead? Always wanted to be a hero.”
Ian smirked. “Did you, now?”
“Sure. Only not Superman. He flies.”
I decided not to tell Ian—or Jazz—that I planned to keep practicing. I wouldn’t actually steal anything, but I wanted my skills to stay sharp. Just in case we ended up needing a window.
Being a thief did come in handy sometimes.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38