by Gary Jonas
“I also didn’t want him to know my name.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Remove the spell, Hank.”
A moment later Hank touched my forehead and the blackness spun into swirls of color and light.
My mouth was dry and when I tried to talk all that came out was gibberish.
“Do not fear, Mr. Masters,” Delgado said. “The blindness and tongue trouble will pass in a few minutes.”
“Blah do dah,” I said. “Jan mo kendo onto cardio?”
“It’s almost worse when it’s just noise,” Hank said. “I’m going to get a beer.”
“You be quiet, Mr. Masters,” Delgado said. “I shall do the talking and you will do the listening. Nod your head if you understand.”
What else was I going to nod? I couldn’t say that, so I just nodded.
“I sent two men to see you yesterday, Mr. Masters. Nobody’s seen them since then.”
I shrugged and ran my tongue over the back of my teeth. My mouth felt like I’d been shot up with too much Novocaine.
“This would be better if he could speak,” Delgado said.
“Ado pun shill?” I said and mimed writing with a pen in the air.
“Pencil?” Raymond asked.
I nodded.
“There’s a notebook and a pen in the desk.”
My eyesight was starting to come back, but it was just blurry light and shadow with dashes of color here and there. I couldn’t make out faces or furniture or anything. I blinked a few times and tried rubbing my eyes one at a time. The zip tie on my wrists was so tight I worried I was losing circulation.
A notebook dropped in my lap. I held out my hands, opening my right and Raymond placed a pen in my palm. I gripped it and determined it was a click pen. I scooted my fingers down the shaft to make sure the pen was in working order, then shifted it to where I could use it to write. Next I lowered my hands to the notebook. Spiral, and open to a page I could write on.
“Ready?” Delgado asked.
I nodded.
“Where are my men?”
It was hard to write with my wrists bound, but I did my best. I scrawled some letters and turned the notebook.
Someone reached down and turned it back.
“Raymond is behind you,” Delgado said. “He will read over your shoulder.”
I nodded and moved my hands so he could see.
“I can’t make that out,” Raymond said.
I sighed, and tried again.
“Gone?” Raymond asked.
I nodded.
“Gone where?” Delgado asked.
I shrugged. It’s not like the carpet ever took a dump. Or maybe the dirt underneath it was its excrement. Hell if I know. But I wasn’t going to tell them anything about Mangani or what happened to his shark dudes.
“Did you receive a package yesterday?”
I nodded.
“Did my men take it?”
What the hell, I thought, and nodded again. It was worth a shot.
“Where did they go?”
Shrug.
Delgado sighed. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Shrug.
“Do you know what was in the package?”
I shook my head.
“An ancient deck of Tarot cards.”
I blinked a few times and now I could see blurry shapes. There was a light behind Delgado, and I could make out what could have been an entryway. Delgado was just a dark shadow. He was a short guy, but stout.
“I want those cards.”
Shrug.
“I don’t believe you gave the package to my men, Mr. Masters.”
“I dent,” I said. Focus. “Didn’t.”
Raymond leaned over and grabbed the pen and notebook from me.
“You don’t need these anymore, and I don’t want you thinking the pen could be a weapon.”
“I didn’t,” I said.
“I would have.”
“I am not you,” I said, my voice still sounding like my mouth was stuffed with cotton.
“I could kill a man with this notebook,” Raymond said.
“I’m impressed,” I said, sounding like I had a lisp. With every word, though, my speech improved. And my vision started to focus.
Delgado was an old man with deep wrinkles in his forehead. He had dark brown skin, blue eyes that didn’t look right with his complexion, and his hair was dyed an unnatural black. The house was well furnished and old, with ornate wooden carvings and arched doorways. For a rich guy, Delgado sure went cheap on the hair color. If it didn’t come out of a box, his hairdresser should be shot. He wore a colorful bathrobe and looked like a low-rent Spanish Hugh Hefner. I didn’t see any cute bunnies, though.
“What did you do to my men?” Delgado asked.
“I didn’t do anything to them,” I said, thankful that my voice was back to normal. I had to focus to enunciate, but that was better than the gobbledygook I’d been spouting. “I gotta tell you that Mr. Russo and Mr. Toscano were total douchebags, though.”
Delgado stared at me and blinked once like a lazy lizard. His expression didn’t change. He was not amused.
“I want those cards.”
“Dude, you can buy Tarot cards over at The Witchery.”
“I want those cards specifically, not mass produced novelty items.”
“Magic comes from within, Grasshopper,” I said.
Another slow lizard blink.
“You want us to eat him?” Jensen asked.
Hank stepped into the room with a bottle of Guinness. “I’d be happy to close off his windpipe and let him suffocate.”
“You are Nathaniel Masters’ youngest son,” Delgado said. “Correct?”
“Youngest legitimate son,” I said. “I think there are a few bastard sons in Europe. My dad got around a bit.”
“I’m well aware of your father’s indiscretions.”
“Nice way to put it.”
“Your uncle Paul is even worse.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You will give me the Etteilla deck.”
“I thought you said Tarot.”
“Etteilla as in the French astrologer and fortune teller. He designed the deck back in 1789, and your uncle sent you the original, which he stole from one of my benefactors.”
“You lost me with the weird astrologer guy. Tell me about it in six words or less.”
“It’s priceless.”
“Cool. Two words. You’re pretty good at this. Only problem is that Uncle Paul didn’t send anything to me.”
“Very well, Mr. Masters. If you want to get literal, the package was addressed to your father.”
“You know what that means?” I asked. “It means it’s like one of my favorite Mexican foods.”
He looked at me, confused.
I grinned. “It’s nachos. As in you can’t have it because it’s nachos.”
Another slow blink. I don’t think Delgado liked me or appreciated my attempts at humor.
“Dude, you need to learn how to use eBay. It seems to me that you keep getting outbid when you try to win a sense of humor.”
Delgado fumed. He moved toward me and jabbed a finger into my chest as he opened his mouth to speak. But when his finger pushed against me, he jumped back as if shocked. He stepped back and composed himself. “Perhaps I should take a different tack here.”
“You want me to kill him, boss?” Jensen asked.
Delgado shook his head. “No.”
“I can’t just stand here and listen to him insult you, boss.”
“I think he’s playing us,” Delgado said. “His bloodline traces back to the original magicians, and when I touched him, I got his measure. I believe he killed Mr. Russo and Mr. Toscano at the same time. I felt their lives get extinguished.”
“Oh yeah? We captured him easy enough,” Jensen said.
“He let you capture him. This one has great magic. Can you not feel it?”
Jensen frowned and shook his head. “No.”<
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“I’m not buying it either, sir,” Hank said. “I cast a spell on him with no problem. If he was some powerful wizard, he could have easily broken it.”
“Raymond?” Delgado asked. “What is your take?”
“I think if he had any real magic, he’d easily break that zip tie.”
Delgado scratched his head. “He’s a true blood wizard, and I fear we may have overstepped our bounds.”
“What are you talking about, boss?” Jensen asked. “I could rip this little punk’s throat out in two seconds flat.”
“Raymond, please cut the tie to free his hands.”
Raymond hesitated, but then reached into his pocket and took out a pocket knife. He flipped it open. I held out my hands and he cut the plastic.
I wanted to rub my wrists, but that wouldn’t look cool, so I resisted the temptation. Instead, I stood up and made a circular sign in the air. I pointed at Hank and he stepped backward.
“Don’t worry, Hanky boy,” I said. “I don’t bother with magic for the most part, so I won’t blast you.”
“Let us speak as gentlemen,” Delgado said.
“I’m not that formal,” I said.
“The Etteilla deck doesn’t mean that much to you. Allow me to purchase it.”
“Dude, you already said it’s priceless.”
“You don’t need it, so for you I suspect it does have a price.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not the only interested party, and I’m not a big fan of being kidnapped.”
“Ten million dollars.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly, so I laughed. The guy wanted to pay ten million bucks for a deck of cards?
“Twenty,” he said.
I shook my head.
“Fifty.”
Maybe there was more to the cards than I realized. Or maybe it was something else. I took a stab in the dark.
“You were responsible for keeping the deck safe.”
He hesitated, and the look in his eyes told me I was right.
I nodded. “As it happens, Mr. Delgado, I don’t have the Estrella deck.”
“Etteilla.”
“Whatever. I don’t have it, so I can’t help you. I didn’t kill your shark boys. They intercepted the UPS guy before he reached the door, and they ran off with your prized cards.”
“I don’t believe you. I felt their lives go out.”
“So let’s blast him, boss,” Jensen said.
Delgado motioned for him to stop. “I’ll have Hank drop you off wherever you like.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. It was a gold card with a phone number embossed in black. “I would like to buy or trade for that deck, Mr. Masters. I apologize for the way my men treated you.”
“Good help is hard to find,” I said. It was a stupid thing to say, but I didn’t have anything else.
“Please take the weekend to think about it, and call me on Monday morning with an answer.”
“I told you, I don’t have the deck,” I said, slipping the card into my wallet.
“You keep saying that, Mr. Masters. I can get you the Mirror of Ecstasy or the original Eye of the Serpent, believed lost centuries ago. Or perhaps you’d prefer the Runestone of Tanis.”
“You’d get farther with Jennifer Lawrence’s phone number,” I said. “She’s hot.”
He nodded. “I can provide that.”
He probably could. But what would I say to her? It’s not like I could call her up and get a date. She wouldn’t know me and that would just get my number blocked. I laughed it off. “Just joking.” I nodded to Hank. “Hey, numb nuts, how about a ride back to the club?”
Hank glared at me and clenched his fists.
“Hank would be delighted to give you a ride,” Delgado said.
Hank wasn’t exactly delighted, but fifteen minutes later, he dropped me off at The Hideaway. I grabbed my guitar from the back of the van. The thin number one E string was broken. Typical.
“Catch you later,” I said.
“Or I’ll catch you.”
The way he spoke sent a shiver through me and I hunched my shoulders. He laughed as I closed the door. Then he pulled away and left me standing all alone in the middle of a crowded sidewalk.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Where the hell have you been?” Sabrina asked when I approached her at the bar.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said. I turned to the bartender. “Jameson on the rocks, please.” I leaned my guitar against the bar and climbed onto a stool.
“You abandoned the show. Again.”
“Gentry came back,” I said. I looked around the bar. It was dying down as the people thinned out. The band had already packed up, and I suspected they’d be pissed that I wasn’t there to help.
“Who?”
“The cowboy who tried to kill me yesterday.”
“The guy in the duster we got rid of?”
I nodded.
“I didn’t see him,” Sabrina said. “So, you left the stage, darted out the back and ran away? Did he chase you?”
The bartender slid my drink across the counter. I tossed a ten his way and took a sip. Jameson was one of my many weaknesses.
“I was kidnapped.”
Sabrina raised an eyebrow. It was a well-executed move, and if she were into science fiction, I’d have thought she was impersonating Mr. Spock.
“I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “Two guys grabbed me, threw me in the back of a van. Three guys if you count the driver. They took me to see a guy named Delgado.”
“Mario Delgado?”
“We’re not on a first name basis.”
“Short old guy from Spain?”
“Is that where he was from? He might have had a Spanish accent. I almost expected him to claim to be the most interesting man in the world.”
“He’s more like a remora.”
“Except that he doesn’t ride sharks around, he orders them to do his bidding. The assholes who grabbed me were Mako Clansmen.”
“He’s still a remora,” Sabrina said. “He talks tough when he has his sharks with him, and he steers them where he wants to go, but only because they’re too stupid to know the difference.”
“I think it’s more like he leads them to food. I was damn near dinner.”
“And yet here you sit.”
I shrugged. “My magical prowess was too much for them.”
She laughed. “Your magical prowess couldn’t lift a feather.”
“I have no reason to lift a feather. It’s not like I’m filming Forrest Gump here.” I did my best Gump impression. “Life is like a box of Tarot cards, Jenny. You hope for fortune but you get the Tower.”
Sabrina rubbed her temples. “This is about the deck, right?”
I nodded. “I think Sinclair sent a bunch of people after it, and he’ll just pay whoever manages to get them.”
Sabrina shook her head. “No way. Sinclair wouldn’t work with a slime ball like Delgado.”
“He also has Gentry.”
Another head shake. “I can’t see him hiring a bumbling cowboy either.”
“He said he had an agent coming to get the cards.”
“What if he sent someone to the house while we were out?”
“Won’t do them any good. They can’t get to the cards. Hell, they can’t find them.”
“A simple locate spell would be nothing for Sinclair.”
“Well, he can’t get to them without me. They’re sealed with blood.” I rubbed my hand as I spoke. I followed that up with a drink of whiskey.
“What is Sinclair’s angle?” She drummed her fingers on the counter, and continued her slow head shaking.
“You’re going to slosh your brains,” I said.
“What?”
“You keep shaking your head.”
She rolled her eyes. Well, at least it wasn’t a head shake. “If Sinclair wants the deck, why doesn’t he come here himself?”
“He can’t,” I said. “My father pu
t up a spell to keep him east of the Mississippi.”
“He could still get here.”
“Sure, if he wants to come up through Mexico. Easier to send an agent. He and my father have had a truce ever since I was born. They were both in love with my mother or something.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if Sinclair was your real father?”
“My father did DNA tests to verify Sinclair wasn’t my old man. Sinclair’s still hung up on my mom, though. And he hates your dad.”
“Most people in the community hate my dad.”
“There is that.”
“Maybe we should learn more about the cards.”
“Knock yourself out,” I said. “I don’t give two shits about those cards. I just want to have a few drinks, go home, and crash. I’ll get the cards out of the safe and you can have the damn things.”
“They’re tuned to you, moron.”
“Tune them to yourself then.”
“Didn’t I tell you that the only way to get them tuned to anyone else is for you to die?”
“I forgot about that.”
“How could you forget something like that?”
“Because it sounded like bullshit, and I’ve slept since then.” Something tickled the back of my brain about willingly offering a tuned artifact, but I wasn’t sure it was from a class. Hell, it might have been from a movie.
“We need to learn about those cards,” Sabrina said. “Why do so many people want them?”
“They’re evidently priceless. That’s what Delgado said, anyway. He called them something.”
“What did he call them?”
“I don’t remember. Estrella or something?”
“Spanish for star? Did he just want the Star?”
I gave her a confused look.
“One of the Major Arcana.”
“I don’t know jack about Tarot cards,” I lied.
“You didn’t have a teacher?”
“I had better things to do than pay attention in those boring classes.”
“Like what?”
“Like sleeping. Napping is a superpower, you know.”
“The Star is an important card in the Tarot. When it’s upright, it’s about a spiritual journey. A transformation. It’s a card of hope and blessings from the Universe. But if it’s reversed, it’s a card of despair, filling you with negative thoughts.”
I blinked at her. “That was a lot of words, Sabrina. You know my rule. Six words or less.”