But the sky behind us remained empty. I watched the city lights grow more and more distant until we were out over the ocean and still, no Bleiten shadows appeared. Somehow, the mercs had held back two Bleiten warriors long enough for Chen to elude them.
With me.
Chen grinned at me as if he realized it too. “It appears that your death on wings has failed, Ms. Redding.”
I just glared at him. Malik's mark, and therefore his ability to track me, had gone dormant, but it would return along with my magic. Of course, so would my twisting ability. I'd be gone before Mal could even begin to track me. I just had to sit tight and wait. With the way my immortality processed drugs, it shouldn't take too long. And then Chen would be in for a big surprise.
Chapter Twenty
We landed on one of the numerous islands in the South China Sea. It was maybe a couple of miles across at the most, with several buildings spotting it and a few boats anchored at a dock. We landed on an empty helipad, and Chen unlocked me at last. But now, there was nowhere for me to run. He dragged me out, into the blast of the blades to huddle away from the helicopter.
As we cleared the blade radius and were able to stand upright, a van pulled up. Perfectly timed. I was shoved into the back—at least this time there were seats and windows—and driven to one of the buildings. As we got closer, I realized it wasn't just a building but a mansion. A gleaming thing of glass, steel, and wood that sprawled over the island's rolling hills. We drove through a Chinese arch reminiscent of the one that guarded the Supemarket in D.C., except this arch wasn't warded. It was just a design element. There weren't even any walls attached to it. A few guards patrolled the area, but other than them, no one was about.
We parked before the house and a group of men in suits stepped up to the van. One was Chinese but the rest were a mix of races. The one thing they had in common was an air of elite security, which was confirmed when they professionally assumed custody of me and marched me into the house—one on each of my arms, two before us, and two behind. Chen vanished, which shocked me a little after all the excitement he showed over my capture.
This house was far different from the last. It was extravagantly decorated with priceless works of art, lavish furnishings, and wallpaper that cost more than some people earn in a month. It had an eclectic feel, as if the owner couldn't decide what he liked the most so had chosen everything. Greedy bastard. But maximalism looks chic when everything is expensive and luxurious—the difference between a hoarder and a collector.
I wasn't manhandled anymore, just escorted with caution. They took me through the hallways, deep into the house, and into a windowless room. There, the décor was distinctly art nouveau, with stylized flowers and swirls adorning dainty furniture and the plasterwork ceiling. My heels sank into layers of elegant rugs woven in muted colors as I was led to a chaise lounge. The two men who held my arms pushed me down on the chaise, then took up a position behind me. The rest of them went to stand along the plum walls in case they were needed. Classical music drifted in through hidden speakers and a fire crackled in a rounded fireplace, its mantle carved with poppies and vines. I felt as if I'd stepped into a James Bond movie.
“Would you care for a drink?” asked the supervillain.
I spun, recognizing the voice immediately. “Bishop,” I whispered. If only I could have enjoyed being right.
“Amanda Redding,” Magnus Bishop said in a wry tone. “How about that drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“I assure you, it won't be drugged.”
“You mean, unlike the last drink I was offered?”
Bishop chuckled as he poured two glasses of brandy in beautiful snifters. He strolled over to me, his gaze wandering down my body and up again. “Such an improvement from your last look,” he murmured as he held out a snifter.
I lifted a brow at him. “Do you think I'm holding my arms behind my back to show off my cleavage?”
He blinked and glanced behind me. “Ah, yes. My apologies.” He nodded at one of the men. “Release her.”
A click came from behind me as the handcuffs sprung free one after the other.
I brought my hands forward and accepted the brandy. “Thank you.”
Bishop took a seat in a chair on my left. “You're welcome... whoever you are.”
“Let's just go with Amanda for now.” I sipped my brandy—excuse me, I mean cognac. “Louis XIII?”
“You know your cognac,” he said in surprise.
He was probably more surprised that I'd recognized the taste of a cognac that went for 25 grand a bottle more than the fact that I recognized the brand. I just smiled at him and took a bigger sip.
Bishop leaned back in his chair, crossed an ankle over his knee, and contemplated me as he swirled his drink. “You and your people have cost me a lot of money tonight, Amanda.”
“I dearly hope so, Magnus,” I said sweetly. “Where are the supes whose magic you're stealing?”
He grinned. “Dead. Unfortunately, none have survived the removal. But then, I did drain them completely, and none of them had your healing ability.”
“Ah, I see. You want to drain me over and over again.”
“I was hoping to,” he purred, dropping his gaze to the cleavage I was barely showing. “If you're a good girl, I may even fill you back up again.”
