Master and Apprentice

Raves for Master of None by Sonya Bateman

“Sonya Bateman’s prose will keep you captivated from page one.”

—Jennifer Armintrout,
USA Today
bestselling author of the Blood Ties series

“If
Reservoir Dogs
and
Aladdin
had a baby with
Alice in Wonderland,
it would look something like
Master of None
. …”

—Bitten by Books

“First in an exciting new series, this book brings a refreshingly different twist to urban fantasy. … Plenty of action and memorable characters add up to an entertaining read that’s tough to put down.”

—Romantic Times (4 1/2 stars)

“The hostile Ian, his beloved wife, Akila, and their djinn friends and foes provide a refreshing change from [urban fantasy’s] habitual hordes of vampires, werewolves, and fairies.”

—
Fantasy
Magazine

“A book that will take you on a surprising journey. You will laugh, cheer, and root along with these vibrant characters.”

—Smexy Books

“Fun, touching, and exciting. … I couldn’t put [it] down.”

—Debuts & Reviews

“Tongue in cheek … loaded with action … a likeable antihero.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

Also by Sonya Bateman
Master of None

Pocket Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2011 by Sonya Bateman

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Pocket Books paperback edition April 2011

POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
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.

Interior designed by Jacquelynne Hudson.
Cover design by Lisa Litwack.
Illustration by Craig White.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN 978-1-4391-6085-5
ISBN 978-1-4391-1207-3 (ebook)

To my core unit at home, with much love.

There are so many people that I’m grateful for when it comes to my writing, I hardly know where to start—or when to stop. But here I go, trying to thank you all.

My love and eternal gratitude to my family, every last one of them, including Lori and Eileen, whose names I left out last time (I’m sorry!), and all my lost friends from high school who resurfaced on Facebook. My family is huge, crazy, and the best on Earth.

My agent, Cameron McClure, and my editor, Jennifer Heddle: thank you for saving me from lame jokes, underdeveloped scenes, and plot holes the size of Texas. And for all the other awesome stuff you do. I’d be lost without you.

My writer friends, who keep me sane: Aaron, Kim, Marta, Val, Nichola, everybody at the League of Reluctant Adults. Bronwyn, Mia, Brynn, Kris, Jen, Selena, Diana, Kathy, Connie, Stella, Jim, Froggy, and everyone I met at Authors After Dark. And more I’m probably forgetting. Please don’t kill me in your next book.

My coworkers and friends at Bradley Communications and the National Publicity Summit. I hug you. I hug you long time.

All the reviewers and bloggers who were so enthusiastic about
Master of None:
Jackie Uhrmacher at Bitten By Books, Stella at Ex Libris, Tia Nevitt at Debuts & Reviews, Tori and Mandi at Smexy Books, Vicki Browning, whose blog name escapes me, Derek Tatum at Mondo Vampire, Natasha at Wicked Lil Pixie, and the anonymous ten-year-old reviewer at Flamingnet Book Reviews. You guys rule!
Also, everyone who took the time to read the book and write a review, even a bad one—thank you so much.

And, of course, all the readers. Everyone who’s written me a note, or talked about my books to friends, or read
Master of None
and remembered me long enough to pick up this book, or who’s never heard of me and my djinn, but is reading this right now … thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

T
hey tell me flying is safer than driving. Every day, millions of people take to the skies and fail to crash and die. Maybe that’s true when flying involves spending hours being delayed in an airport, eating bad airline food, and hoping the person who bought the seat next to yours has showered sometime in the past week. Maybe it’s safer being surrounded by an experienced, professional pilot and crew, a bunch of life-saving devices, and decades of engineering precision.

But when flying means riding piggyback on an airborne djinn who isn’t very good at it, and who might be cranky enough not to notice—or care—if you fall off and drop a thousand feet to your death, it’s safer to swim in a pool full of hungry sharks. When I fly, nobody offers me peanuts or a watered-down drink. I don’t even get a lousy seat belt.

Lucky me.

“Ian, we’ve been up here an hour,” I shouted. “Where’s this damned cave?”

“Close.”

“You said that the last three times I asked.”

“Then stop asking, thief.”

“You’re lost, aren’t you?”

I felt him tense beneath me. “I am not lost.”

“Bullshit.” We were definitely lost. And even if we weren’t both guys, we couldn’t exactly ask for directions. There wasn’t anyone else flying around the open skies above the Appalachians in Virginia right now. I didn’t bother opening my eyes to see if I could help. Every damned mountain looked the same to me. “You sure this is the right area?”

“Yes. Now be silent. I am attempting to scry.”

“Great,” I muttered. Scrying was basically remote viewing, a mental camera that could travel anywhere and focus on anything magical. A nice trick to know—and yet another type of magic Ian wasn’t good at, and I couldn’t do at all. Ian’s wife, Akila, usually did the scrying for us to find our targets, since it was one of her clan’s strengths. We were never going to find the thing on our own. “Maybe we should land before you try that.”

“Donatti.”

“Fine. Shutting up.” I’d give it a few more minutes before I complained again. My arms ached from the awkward grip across Ian’s chest, and my cramped body begged for a stretch. At least we hadn’t flown all the way here from upstate New York. We had a hotel room in some little village farther down the mountain, and when we finished this, we’d use the mirror there to get home the same way we’d come down.

If we finished this at all.

My gut clenched, and not from airsickness this time. We’d dragged ourselves here to kill another Morai. For the past year, I’d been helping Ian hunt down and destroy the snake clan, the djinn responsible for wiping out the Dehbei, his clan. Well, our clan, I guess, since technically he was my great-great-great-you-get-the-idea-grandfather. But I was mostly human, and there were at least ten generations between Ian and me.

I didn’t like killing. I assumed the Morai didn’t like being killed. But they were vicious bastards, and Ian’s revenge became mine when their clan leader, Lenka, had tried to take out him, Akila, me, and my woman and son. We’d destroyed Lenka, and had been tracking the rest ever since.

Ian assured me that after this one, we had only seventy-eight or so more left. At the rate we were going, I figured I’d probably be ancient and drooling in my oatmeal when we caught the last one. If I lived that long.

“There you are, snake.” Ian spoke softly, but I heard him just fine. The venom in his voice would’ve transcended a tornado. Louder, he said, “We are landing now. Hold tight.”

“Like I’m not doing that already.” Still, I shifted and locked my hands together. I felt him slowing, losing height, and finally we landed with a dull thud. I opened my eyes to make sure there was ground beneath us, then let go and stumbled back a few steps while my legs remembered how to stand. “There’s gotta be a better way to travel,” I said. “Any suggestions?”

He ignored me. I would’ve been insulted, but I was used to that from him.

I let out a sigh and scanned the area. This was just about the summit of the mountain. In front of us, a jagged opening in the rock face revealed a deep cavern, dappled with sunlight that streamed through what I assumed were holes in the ceiling, and fading to black beyond. Cool, dank air wafted from the mouth of the cave like an ancient breath. Anything could be hiding in that patchwork of light and shadow.

With my luck, it’d be something with teeth.

It actually took me a few seconds to find Ian again. Nature wasn’t my element, but he blended right in. As always, his clothing was earth toned, dirt brown everything—boots, pants,
vest, no shirt. He hated shirts. The leather duster he always wore, no matter the temperature, had rumpled a bit during the flight. Standing perfectly still, staring into the cave with coiled bloodlust in his eyes, he looked every inch the predator he was. A wolf ready to strike.

I cleared my throat. “Maybe we should wait awhile before we go in there.”

Ian’s black-ringed eyes narrowed, and his lean features drew into a scowl. “Are you afraid, thief ?”

“Ex-thief,” I said automatically. “I’m retired, remember? And no, I’m not scared. Unless there’s bears. But my point is, you’ve been flying forever, and you scryed too. You can’t have much juice left.” Djinn magic drained when they used it in the human realm, and it took time to recharge. “I won’t be able to save us if things go wrong.”

Ian snorted. “This one is still sealed inside his tether. Nothing will go wrong.”

“Those sound suspiciously like famous last words to me.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” I shook my head. Once he decided on something, that was what’d better happen. We were going in. The great Ian had spoken. I frowned and said, “Look, when we’re through here, do you think you could show me a couple of useful spells? I can do the invisible thing, and turn knives into different knives. I’ve got mirror bridges and tether destruction down. But that’s it. I can’t defend myself against these guys, and I’m human. Unlike you, I’ll die.”

Something that resembled surprise eased over his face during my rant. “I have told you, he is sealed. And djinn cannot kill humans.”

“No, but they can cause death to happen. And they aren’t all going to be sealed.”

Ian frowned. “We will discuss this later.”

“Yeah. Sure we will.” I knew a dismissal when I heard it. With a scowl of my own, I crossed my arms and nodded toward the cave. “Confident assholes first.”

He looked like he’d say something else. Instead, he shrugged carefully and walked inside.

I gave it a few seconds and followed. Wasn’t quite as pissed as I made out, but I was getting a little tired of feeling like a fourth-rate lackey. We’d gone into some nasty fights with the Morai over the past year, and my little handful of pathetic tricks never prevented me from coming out banged up and bloody. Ian or Akila always healed me afterward, but there had to be a way to avoid the pain in the first place.