Verial 147

Chapter 3: Ian Charleson

As I step out of the elevator I nod to Matthew and turn the other way. I turn around to try to get one last view of him, but he is already consumed in the crowds of people. I approach a waiter and grab a glass of white wine, handing him a twenty as I turn away.

I head to where I assume the verials would be, and the center of the whole place. There stands a table, with powerful-looking men sitting all around it. There are only two open chairs and I hurry to the closest one. I observe the man next to me. Deep purple coat with a matching tie. Rough beard, but trimmed. Looks to be a medium build, yet he wrenches of authority, more so than I ever could. I get a weird feeling from him, making me unable to tell if he's verial. He looks to be winning, with a large stack of money in front of him. 

Yes, this is the type of person I would expect from a poker table.

He looks at me as soon as I sit down. I watch as he opens his mouth to speak, showing gold and silver crowns. "Sweetheart, the big boys are going to play now, come back in a bit."

I scoff and look him dead in his dark eyes, "Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you." 

The men around me laugh and I smile, then frown, quickly turning my gaze from the person sitting in what used to be the other empty chair. But I can assure you I didn't miss his piercing blue eyes pointed at the ground. I look back up at the dealer, a 30- something tanned man with a red suit and large build. 

"Deal me in."

He grins and shuffles the cards, "Five card draw good."

That catches my attention, "Little bit basic don't you think?"

His grin turns into a bigger one, almost creepy looking now. "Then I expect you to win."

I nod as he begins to deal the cards to his left, "no-limit-5-card" he gruffs.

 The people around me nod as I do the same. Once my cards are out in front of me I pick them up, keeping a poker face all the time. As I look around though I notice certain players showing emotions, and I notice that purple suit beside me sees them too. The person to the left of Mr. Big Red folds straight away. Blue eyes beside him brings the starting bid to 350. By the time it reaches Purple Suit beside me it's 500. He has a mischievous glint in his dark eyes and he smiles at me, raising it to $1000. I look down at my cards, keeping my poker face and raise it by 100, hoping to make him believe I am intimidated.

He looks at me, "Wrong move honey, a fold would have caused you much less loss."

 I ignore him completely, analyzing Blue Eyes across from me. He's hiding a smile and doing a damn good job at it, but I see it for a second until he realizes his mistake and looks back up from his cards. It's then that I quickly turn my head away. 

The man beside me completely folds, giving our dealer a shot, who raises it to 1250. The man to his left switches out three cards, blue eyes switches two, and the man on his right switches three as well. Purple suit draws two, as well as me, leaving our dealer, who draws three like the others.

As the next round of betting begins our starter folds, Blue Eyes looks up at me this time, knowing I've made him, as he does, he raises it to 2000. 

Purple Suit grins a sly smirk, fully confident. He looks at me, " 25,000." The dealer's grin widens.

I keep a blank look on my face and when my turn comes, Purple Suit smiles a ghastly smile. I let out a cough, "50,000." 

And just like that, his grin lowers just a bit. Blue Eyes across the table looks surprised, yet fights another smile.

The dealer looks at me and grins, "Fold."

When Blue Eyes has the chance he looks at me, then folds as well, leaving just me and Purple Suit. When he has the chance he calls. He still holds his smile though and when the dealer says to show our hands, he shows what I should have been afraid of, a six, then four 10's. 

So when it's my turn I naturally do what I think to be the most dramatic, I smile a sickly smile, then play my cards, first my seven, then my four queens. Just like that, Purple Suit's grin disappears. 

The people around me gasp and draw a crowd, but I get up. I nod at the dealer, grab my money, and turn and walk away.

I know that Blue Eyes will follow me, I'm counting on it. I slip by a dining table and slip a knife from one of the napkin holders. I hold it steadily against my arm. I turn down a few of the topue painted halls and step into the musty stairwell.

I close the door behind me and take a step behind it, waiting for Blue Eyes to step through the door. I hear his footsteps approach. Each one getting faster. He opens the door quickly and looks around, not knowing where I've gone.

 It's then that I slam the door shut and wrap my arm around his neck, holding the knife to his throat. I turn him so he's against the wall, with my hand against his throat. He's too tall to lift off the ground, but my other arm is elbowing him in the stomach, giving him no chance of escape or run. I look him dead in the eyes. My brown ones glaring into his. 

My words come out in a growl, "Who the heck are you?"

He looks at me, a little scared, but not quite shook. I can tell he's in pain, but he's trying hard to hide it. "Ian ," he coughs, "Ian Charleson."

I push him harder against the wall, "And what the heck do you want?"

He again looks at me, seeming a little more scared now, but he puts on a blank face once again. "What do you mean? I came here tonight to play poker, gain a couple hundred. Maybe even take home a girl."

I knee him between the legs. Not even lightly, I definitely hear a crunch. He groans in pain. I hiss into his ear, "You know that's a lie. Or have you just coincidently been following me everywhere."

He seems to try to smile, but he can't seem to get past the pain, so instead, he spits blood onto the ground "What can I say, coincidence?"

I dig the knife a little deeper into his skin. "I don't believe in coincidences."

He gulps against the blade.

I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier, my voice coming out raspy. "So you better tell me what you want in the next ten seconds or I will kill you, a pathetic person like yourself wouldn't be hard to fake a death for."

He looks up at me, then around the stairwell, his eyes still piercing, now filled with even more pain. "I want to help you find Knight." I get rid of a little pressure from his throat. "I know you're getting a team together, and I want in. "

I look at him, "Why exactly do you want in?"

"Knight killed my little sister. I was 19, she was 5. I've spent the last three years trying to figure out how to kill her."

I note in my head that he's only two years older than me, trying to figure out if what he's saying makes sense, "You're not a verial."

He shakes his head, "I know, I'm not a great asset, but I know enough."

I take a deep breath in and out, "Can you shoot a gun?"

"Any kind,"

"Have any money?"

"Enough,"

"Height?"

"6.2"

"Weight?"

"197"

"School?"

"I was the best in my classes until I dropped out after my sister was killed."

"Have any other family?"

"None at all. My parents are dead too."

"And you're sure you want to do this?"

He looks kind of puzzled at my question, "You think I've been following you for months to quit now?"

I give him one more look over, "I'll have to ask Matthew for his opinion," I let him go and conceal the knife in my bag. "But if he says it's fine, I guess you can tag along," I shrug out my hand. "Welcome to the team. Try not to be an ass."