Forgotten Destiny 3 Page 2

  I frowned at him, though technically it was more of a pout. “You could’ve at least tried to get my attention. Is it really a good idea,” I cast my gaze at the padlocked door, “to have this conversation here and now?”

  Josh shrugged. “There’s nobody out here, and the padlocks will only open once we call through to Ming’s secretary. So if you want to know the details of the case – or at least all I know so far – here they are. Isabella is a successful actress. You probably know her by her stage name of Loretta Hayward.”

  I blinked wildly. “Wait, I do know her. She’s meant to be brilliant. Not just on the screen, but on the stage. Her latest show sold out within an hour.”

  Josh had a sarcastic look, and I could tell he wanted to insult me, but I could also tell he wanted to get this done. “That’s her. Her emotion reading makes her particularly good at acting.”

  I’d never thought about that, but it was a good point. Being an emotion reader wouldn’t simply make you a good asset in negotiating business deals – it would make you a hell of a good entertainer. From a comedian to a dramatic actor, it wouldn’t matter. Your ability to read your crowd’s interest and to react to their emotions would be unparalleled.

  “Though a bunch of the kingpins tendered for Isabella’s contract, Ming by far put down the most money. He also offered the highest protection.”

  I ticked my head to the side. “Better than Peter?” I guarded my tone when I said Peter, because I knew how Josh would react.

  Considering the heavy past between Josh and Peter, I wasn’t wrong. Josh’s expression soured as if he’d crammed 20 lemons into his mouth. Still, he was with-it enough to nod. “Even Peter. You see, excluding Max,” it was Josh’s turn to guard his tone around me, “Ming has by far the most money.”

  I’d never looked at the books of the three kingpins in town, but Josh had a point. The construction industry was lucrative, as was security – but entertainment was massive.

  “Ming very much has his finger in every pie. He owns a lot of entertainment companies worldwide, and is into everything from music, to movies, to Broadway. He also has a lot of pull amongst first-time contracted witches. Think about it,” Josh shrugged expressively, “would you rather work in the construction industry using your powers to shovel dirt everywhere – or would you rather be an actress?”

  Josh had a point, so I shrugged. “This is all very interesting, but who did Ming employ to carry out Isabella’s protection order?”

  “Several people.”

  “You mean she needed more than one bodyguard?”

  “No – I mean she went through them like a knife through butter. From what I’ve heard about Isabella… she’s a bit of a diva.”

  I blinked. “But she’s an emotion reader. I thought they were always… gentle.” It wasn’t the right word, but it was close enough.

  Josh snorted. “Emotion readers are better than anyone else at getting what they want. And you’d be surprised how often acting up and being a jerk gets you what you want.”

  I didn’t take the opportunity to point out that I wouldn’t be that surprised, considering that was Josh’s primary personality trait.

  I frowned. The reason I frowned was that an odd sensation rushed through my middle. I still didn’t have the ability to find what I wasn’t looking for, but every now and then, my magic would alert me to something in my environment. Which was precisely what it did now as I stared past Josh’s shoulder while he shuffled around on the landing.

  Set into the wall near the side of the door was a small intercom. The light was on, and it was green.

  “Are you paying any attention to me?” Josh snapped.

  I pointed past him to the intercom. “Yes – and I think they are, too.”

  “What are you talking about?” Josh began. He turned and paled as he looked at the green light. He made a face. He cleared his throat. “… Is that you, Ming?”

  “It certainly is. I thought you billed yourself as a professional, Mr. Josh McIntosh? And I had assumed a professional wouldn’t discuss the facts of this case in public on the doorstep of his employer.”

  Josh winced, then hid it quickly as he brought a hand up and smoothed his hair. “I’m just bringing my sidekick up to speed.”

  “And slandering the good name of Isabella, one of my most successful actresses,” Ming said. He had a low, clipped voice. He’d obviously been given diction lessons, because he was one of those people who said every single syllable perfectly, making you feel as if you were conversing with an electronically programmed robot.

  Josh blanched. “I certainly wasn’t slandering her.”

  “She does not act the diva,” Ming corrected.

  Josh shrugged.

  “The reason she went through so many inappropriate bodyguards was that Peter has been trying to steal Isabella from me for years. He erroneously thinks that by giving me terrible bodyguards, it will mean I will fail to protect Isabella, and her contract will be taken off me.”

  I blinked. I knew the rules. When we first met new witches and warlocks, I was to remain silent. Especially around the kingpins.

  But screw the rules. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Ming Chen – it’s nice to meet you; my name is Bethany Samson. Can I confirm that all of Isabella’s bodyguards came from Peter Mercure?”

  There was a pause. Though I wasn’t in the same room as Ming and I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his unmistakable interest in me. I suddenly got the wildly inappropriate, cartoonish image of him sitting on a chair with a white cat in his lap as he twiddled his thumbs and thought of various uses for me.

  Regardless of my stupid imagination, there was definitely a pointed silence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bethany Samson. Sorry, it is Miss, isn’t it?”

  My stomach twitched.

  “She isn’t married yet,” Josh said, his tone hard.

  Genuine alarm spiked through me. I’d already suspected that the kingpins – including Max – talked about me behind my back. Though I wanted to believe that Max wouldn’t share any details about me, I was relatively certain that when I’d first appeared on the scene, he’d at least told Helena about me. Now I had to wonder whether they knew about the prophecy and Jason too.

  Josh gave me a specific look out of the corner of his eye – and it was a look that told me to calm the heck down. He cleared his throat, a particularly grating quality to it. “Can we come in, Ming?”

  “I only wish to deal with professionals – so Bethany can come in.”

  Josh usually played the fool. That wasn’t to say he danced around the place pretending to be a jester. It was to say that his personality walked a line between being serious and casual. Now I watched him pull himself to his full height. If he’d had a sword, he would’ve presumably unsheathed it – his body language changed that much. “Yeah, well, Bethany doesn’t go anywhere without me – as I fulfill her protection order. So if you want to meet her, you will meet me, too. Are you going to let us in?” Josh asked.

  There was a pause. Then there was a click. An unusual click. It echoed over the intercom. Instantly, the padlocked chains began to react to it. It was as if they were sound-activated, and Ming had just played them the only noise that could get them to open.

  Just like the chains that had locked Josh in place to Constantine’s torture chair, these withdrew back in on themselves like snakes disappearing down a hole to hibernate over the winter.

  Instantly, a cold chill raced up my back and bit hard into my hindbrain. I chased away the dark memory of that day and focused on the door. It opened of its own accord.

  Josh walked in first, and I shuffled in quickly behind him.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I got.

  From the look of this building, it should have had the same architecture as Max’s townhouse where Josh and I lived. Old Regency style windows, fixtures, and fittings – you know the drill.

  This place?

  “Lo
oks like a boudoir,” I commented softly under my breath.

  Josh snorted, though it was a controlled move. “All the velvet, red carpet, and sparkles are a bit over the top – but don’t tell Ming it looks like a boudoir to his face. In fact—”

  “Don’t speak at all?” I got there first. “Sorry – I already ruined that.”

  Josh paused, appearing to think this through. “No, you can speak – just be judicious. Ming – as I’m sure you heard – is very interested in you. You would take all the chance out of his industry. You could pick a best-selling movie, a best-selling song, a best-selling anything—”

  “But I can’t be subcontracted. He would presumably know that.”

  “There’s a workaround to everything – that’s Ming’s favorite saying. So be careful, okay?”

  I didn’t snap at Josh that I knew the stakes here. I nodded competently.

  We walked down the corridor and up a sweeping set of stairs. Unsurprisingly, considering this was a magical building, the insides didn’t conform to the space allotted to the building outside. We looked like we were in a studio – there were huge sweeping staircases and grand hallways. There were people coming and going, too, and they were dressed in the strangest collection of costumes. Everything from tassels and feathers to combat gear.

  I stayed close to Josh – not just because he appeared to know where he was going, but because this was weird. “What is this place?” I hissed under my breath.

  “Ming is a control freak. Always has been. This building is his central studio. I know it doesn’t look like that much from the outside, but he’s cast an infinity spell on the building. It’s just as big as he wants it to be – as long as he pumps enough magic into it every day.”

  “You mean his entire studio is within this building?”

  Josh nodded. “Everything from his record label, to his multiple movie studios, to his Broadway productions. Hell, he even controls every single club he owns around town all from here. He sees every single one of his employees every day – no matter how high up the pecking order they are.”

  “You seem to know your way around this place. Does he often call in contract violations for his employees?”

  “No. Very, very rarely. Witches who work for Ming tend not to run.” There was something behind Josh’s voice as he revealed that fact. It wasn’t respect. It wasn’t happiness, either. Whatever it was, in fact, it was hard and unreadable.

  I knew from experience that Josh had a complicated relationship with every single kingpin in town, and that didn’t even begin to include Max. Though Josh appeared to adore Helena, I now knew enough to realize Helena didn’t share his feelings remotely; if anything, she saw him as a threat. And I didn’t even want to mention Peter again.

  But this was making it clear that Josh had a history with Ming, as well.

  Just before I could question what the heck that history was, we reached the door. Considering some of the more glamorous doors we’d passed, this one looked as if it led to a janitor cupboard.

  Before I could clear my throat and point that out, Josh tipped his head back, appeared to take a steeling breath, then shifted forward, locked his hand on the handle, and turned it.

  He didn’t even bother to knock.

  The door swung in, and I was treated to one of the most dramatic offices I’d ever seen.

  You know those old photos of sweeping incredible movie sets from the heyday of modern cinema in the thirties and forties? All that marble, all those pillars, and all that drama?

  Yeah, that was Ming’s office.

  Firstly, it was huge. It felt like it was the size of a stadium. It was cavernous. The floor was made out of some of the most stupendous, polished marble I’d ever seen, and there were actual frigging gold pillars holding up the ceiling. I could have assumed they were simply painted gold – but the way they sparkled and the sheer drama coming off them told me they were the real thing.

  There were statues dotted around the office on pedestals – everything from old carved Greek gods to current actresses and actors of the modern age.

  The office was so over-the-top that I expected there to be mounds of treasure littered in the corners as if we’d stumbled into some bad guy’s lair.

  Apart from all the ostentatious art, there were only three pieces of furniture. One megalithic desk, one chaise longue directly in front of it, and one chair behind it.

  The room was empty – no Ming.

  It actually took me several seconds to realize that, as I was too busy staring at everything.

  “Would it kill him to have real chairs for his guests?” Josh grumbled as he walked up and sat on the chaise longue.

  I didn’t sit. I kept turning around and around, staring at the incredible office.

  From across the side of the room, there was a click, and a door appeared on the far wall.

  A man walked out.

  Ming Chen. He was handsome, tall, and wore a suit as if it was his second skin. Despite the fact his office was so massive, I could still make out his cufflinks even from here. They were gold, but they’d obviously been spelled to shine as brightly as a star. Heck, I imagined people in the International Space Station would be able to see them, and they were probably a danger to low-flying aircraft.

  Ming walked across the cavernous expanse of a room, and every single drum of his footfall echoed out against the marble floor.

  I wasn’t usually one for drama. Even now I was a witch, and I’d experienced a gut-full of danger, I rejected the concept that everything had to be epic.

  Yeah, well, tell that to Ming. It wasn’t just the size of his office, or the sound of his reverberating footfall, it was every damn detail. The way he walked toward me made me feel as if I was being approached by an army. I swore people would start playing trumpets from nowhere. That or a massive explosion would go off behind him and ruffle his short hair.

  It took him a while to reach us. He stopped behind his desk, his eyes only on me.

  “You’re impressed by the office?” he asked around a smile. “It’s a little small these days. I’m downsizing in the interests of efficiency.”

  This elicited a loud snort from Josh, one he quickly tried to hide as he clamped a hand over his mouth and turned it into a cough.

  Ming arched an eyebrow. “You have something to say, Mr. McIntosh?”

  “No, not really – just that I would find it a little… inefficient to have to walk for three minutes to get out of my office. But hey, we’re in different lines of work. Speaking of which, let’s get down to business. What information can you give me about Isabella? I want everything from her last known coordinates, to the time she checked in, to the address of her current bodyguard.”

  … Josh was being direct. In fact, he was being borderline rude. Something I had never seen him do with any single kingpin, including Peter.

  He really did have a history with Ming, didn’t he?

  Ming smiled. It was one of those stage smiles some people are so good at. The kind of smile that tells you a person has had a life working around other people’s emotions.

  Ming didn’t sit and rather stood behind his desk. He slowly pushed his arms out, clasping the edges of his desk until his arms were held wide. He was tall enough that the move didn’t make him look small – instead, it underlined his power.

  I got the sudden impression that every single thing this man did was staged to look as powerful and epic as it could be.

  Then I reminded myself why I was here.

  Ming didn’t appear to want to reply to Josh. So I cleared my throat. “If Isabella is under a protection order, it’s critical that we find her sooner rather than later. You mentioned over the intercom that you suspected Peter would do anything to get his hands on Isabella. Just how deeply does that suspicion run?”

  Josh blanched. He fidgeted uncomfortably on the chaise longue. I hadn’t bothered to sit down yet, but he shot me the kind of look that told me to shut up, sit down quietly beside him, and to stop
messing with things.

  I ignored him as I looked directly at Peter.

  Though I’d only messed with truth finding a couple of times now, I started to concentrate.

  Max had already warned me that truth-finding magic was some of the hardest to practice. It was patchy and always would be patchy. I could try my entire life, but I would never be able to find the truth of a statement on-command. There would always be an element of randomness about it – because some facts, after all, can change. The future isn’t set in stone until it becomes the present.

  I also had to be careful not to allow truth finding magic to sap my energy. It was much more expensive to practice than ordinary location magic.

  That didn’t matter. I centered my attention on my breath, grounded myself as I planted my feet out wide, tilted my head back, and told myself I could find the truth in this statement.

  “You have to forgive her, Ming – she’s still new. She didn’t just imply that Peter has committed a crime,” Josh said, his lips moving hard around his words.

  “I think she can speak for herself,” Ming said. “What do you think?” He looked at me.

  I didn’t change my expression. I stood precisely where I was, and I didn’t move. Because I knew exactly what Ming was doing. “Please answer the question, sir,” I said with a friendly tone.

  Ming laughed. “I can see you’ve already taught your sidekick,” he said, emphasizing the words sidekick, “well. The answer is no, I do not believe that Peter would directly attempt to steal a contract from me.”

  Come on, I told myself. I can do this. I can find the truth of this statement.

  My hands were behind my back, and I curled my fingers in until my nails dug hard into my palms. It was as if I was attempting to remove the flesh to get to the truth beneath my bones.

  But the truth wasn’t in my bones – it was in the statement Ming had just made.

  Which was a lie.

  A thrill of recognition chased through me and was quickly followed by a stab of weakness. I didn’t dare let it show. Heck, I didn’t dare let anything show. I shrugged. “Do you have any idea who’s after Isabella, then?”