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“I’m not playing any game,” Nicolet snapped. “Mr. Joshua! Where are you? Get your ass out here and deal with this!”
Messenger let Nicolet go on for a while longer, demanding and threatening, until she seemed to run out of steam.
“You must choose whether to play the game,” Messenger said when her personal storm had blown past.
“I asked what the game is,” Oliver said, definitely scared, but wily as well, smart and determined not to be overwhelmed. “I have a right, don’t I?”
“Play or do not play,” Messenger said. He spoke the words softly, but of course they heard him. “I give you seven seconds to decide. Six. Five.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Oliver said, and made a move toward Messenger as if he was going to shove him.
Messenger did nothing, just stood there and met Oliver’s angry gaze. I had no doubt that Messenger had more than enough power to do as he wished with Oliver, and I think he was tempted. But Messenger’s power is so great that even thugs like Oliver can feel it. The power surrounds Messenger like a force field. You feel it, and never more than at the terrible moment when Messenger performs his duty.
Oliver, pimp and drug dealer, raised his hands and tried to take a step back, but was held rooted. Nicolet had tasted enough of the privilege of her new fame to remain unintimidated. The diva in her was not yet done making threats.
“Go screw yourself.”
“Decide now,” Messenger said.
“I’ll play your game,” Oliver said.
“Do you work for Graciella? I don’t know what lies she’s telling, but that’s what they are: lies. Is that what’s going on? Mr. Joshua! Damn it! Where is my manager?”
“Since you refuse to state your preference, I will judge that you have declined the game,” Messenger said.
“Take your game and shove it right up your—”
It makes it a bit easier when they remain belligerent.
Messenger nodded to me.
I steeled myself for what was to come. Despite her fame and talent, Nicolet was not so very different from me. She could have been a girl at my school. Was her sin so different from my own? Had she even known what Mr. Joshua was doing to Graciella? A horrible person, yes. But perhaps not quite that horrible.
I stood behind Nicolet and placed my left hand over her heart, and pressed my right palm against her head. This was ritual and I knew the words I must speak. “By the Source. By the rights granted to the Heptarchy. By Isthil and the balance She maintains. I claim passage to your soul.”
My first entry into her mind and memory put that thought to rest. I saw the conversation between Nicolet and Mr. Joshua. It had taken place in a hotel room.
Mr. Joshua: Gonna have to lean on her, that’s the thing.
Nicolet: Can’t we do something legally? You know, sue her or whatever?
Mr. Joshua: Look, Nicky, the thing is, I checked and she is a minor. We take her to court that contract gets thrown out. So it can’t be legal, what we do.
Nicolet: I don’t want any of this coming back to me.
Mr. Joshua: Obviously. I mean, I am here to protect you. After all—
Nicolet: After all, you make your money from me.
Mr. Joshua: Exactly. So this’ll be the last time we talk about this. But if Graciella won’t shut her trap, I’ll have to teach her a lesson. And it has to be a harsh one.
Nicolet: Has to be. She’s the one to blame.
Mr. Joshua: I’ll take care of her.
Nicolet: Her own damn fault.
This conversation was right at the top of Nicolet’s consciousness, being actively recalled. The confrontation with Messenger, and no doubt my own accusatory words, had brought it bubbling up out of her memory.
