With a shrug Dempsey dismissed my apparent outrage. “So you say. But when you combine that with how you actually won, it does look very suspicious, even you have to admit that.” Seeing I was unsatisfied with his answers he quickly quelled any further argument. “Marcus at this point the why is not an issue. The fact is I have video evidence that your last hand started with the eight of clubs and the nine of diamonds yet, miraculously, that nine ended as the ace of spades.” His voice was empty of all emotion. He let the silence hang in the air long enough to make it uncomfortable before speaking once again. “And since we both know that with as often as the decks were changed you palming that ace was an impossibility, and that means you are capable of wielding real magic.”
His logic was unfortunately sound, but at that moment I could feel hot air kissing the back of my neck. And from the sounds emanating behind me, my bet was that I was being held in a restaurant’s walk-in freezer. With a little more time I might be able to warm up a bit. I needed to stall for more time. “Was Patrick one of your plants?” I asked as I attempted to mirror his emotionless tone, though the effect was slightly marred by my chattering teeth.
Dempsey gave me a smile that never quite reached his eyes, which held only cold malice. “Do you honestly think I would have employees in the tournaments?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I shot back. Without giving him the time to reply I rolled off my short list of reasons why I knew he did. “It really doesn’t cost you anything to enter a few of your own players as long as they’re skilled enough to challenge for the final hand. And as long as they get there, you get your entrance fee back so no harm no foul. But as long as we’re being honest with each other, I can’t see you not ordering some of your more skilled employees to take part in your tournaments. It’s just good business.” I could see his interest in me rise once more as I listed my reasons. Why am I trying to gain real notice from this new-age mafia don?
But the man just smiled his special smile of warmth and hatred. “No he wasn’t one of my employees.” Dempsey shifted slightly in his seat as if he had been sitting on something. “You can be quite the insightful individual.”
Scoffing at his words I snapped back, “I wouldn’t be here if I had just let Patrick win the tournament.”
“No, you wouldn’t be here right now. However, that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have had you taken care of.” Dempsey offered with a casual shrug.
“What? What do you mean?” My emotionless mask started to crack under my combined confusion and fear.
A hint of annoyance crossed his face as he seemed slightly upset at having to explain himself. “My boy, my dealers thought you might be cheating me. They know what they are looking for and more importantly they know what happens to cheaters. Without proof, I would have let you go home and carry on with your life, for a little while. But before long one of my… troubleshooters, would have resolved the issue.”
I glared back at him as I almost snarled, “I didn’t cheat.”
Ignoring both the glare and the snarl in my voice Dempsey said, “So you say. But since there were no cameras in place there is no way for me to know that for certain. Therefore, all I can do is rely upon the instincts of my dealers. They said there was a chance you were cheating me, my hands were tied from that moment.”
“So if my life is forfeit, why am I still alive?” I was so furious I almost didn’t care what I was saying.
His expression changed to one of mild shock as his gaze lifted from me towards someone behind me. Without asking a question he prompted goon number two to speak. “We told him that he was valuable to you, boss. And we only told him that escape would void that value.”
Satisfied, Dempsey returned his gaze back to me and said, “Your life isn’t forfeit Marcus. It’s just no longer your own.”
Disgusted by his arrogance, I mentally spat in his face as I forced a question out. “So what makes me such a valuable commodity then?” I didn’t even bother trying to hide the contempt in my voice.
Groaning Dempsey retorted, “I thought we agreed not to waste each other’s time.”
“Why?” I asked, actually daring to look him straight in the eyes.
With a small sigh of aggravation Dempsey replied with his emotionless monotone. “Marcus your talents are exceptionally rare. In fact I have only had dealings with one other person with similar talents. The rarity of your gift makes you valuable to me, and I try very hard not to squander valuable things.”
I swallowed as I tried to force my heart back down my throat. “So just because you have video of me transforming a card, you’re going to put aside your de facto punishment for cheaters?”
“That’s correct.” He replied, his tone emphasizing how utterly foolish he believed my question to be.
Well foolish or not I just needed to stall for time. And I just needed a little more, I could feel the warmth from the kitchen and it was working its way into me. I needed to keep this conversation going until I could get warm enough to try something. Time to try and stretch this conversation out a little more. “So let me get this straight. If I hadn’t changed that last card I’d be a dead man right now, or soon enough at least.” Dempsey’s head gave me the slightest nod indicating that I was correct. “But now that you actually have visual proof that I cheated, just the once at the end of the tournament mind you, you’re going to spare my life?”
With a dismissive wave of his hand Dempsey retorted, “The fact that you cheated is not the issue here, Marcus. The heart of the matter is you are able to wield magic.” I could see the utter belief behind his eyes, great he did have someone like me on his payroll. Not only that but they were really playing up the whole witch angle to a new degree. In his mind, not only did magic exist, but he would do anything to surround himself with those who could wield it, people like me. With a wickedly cruel smile he added, “So yes, because I have that proof you get to live.”
I got to live all right; I got to live as his personal slave. Despite all the liquid coursing through my veins right at that moment I felt as if I had been traveling across the Sierra without water for three days. It took me a good minute to work enough moisture into my mouth so I could speak. “If you’re not going to kill me, what are you going to do to me?”
This was obviously the question he had been waiting for as he smiled widely. “Well, Marcus that depends.”
“On what?”
He shrugged, “Honestly it depends on you.”