He smeared it generously with wasabi, swallowed it whole, and gulped the last of his tea. In spite of his slow start, he’d eaten as though he expected his food to be yanked away at any moment. I smirked to myself thinking that his eating habits and personal appearance were the only two things about him that fit together.
“Shall we go out on the town?” he asked casually.
“What? Is that what you meant when you said we were going out later?” I said, shocked as I set down my teacup.
“Club-hopping. That’s what you call it when you go out with Bridget, isn’t it?”
“I think you need to give it a rest with the mind-reading stuff. You’re seriously creeping me out. Whatever the hell was in that relaxing berry tea you hooked me up with isn’t going to stretch that far.”
“Fair enough. Quite right. But drinks and dancing? Is that out of the question? For the record, I’m definitely not trying to date you. I want you to get a feel for the city and meet a few more people. The more you see now, the better. You don’t want to spend another boring night in your hotel room, do you? No, of course not. And it’s not like you’ll be alone with me or anything like that. It’ll be somewhere public. I vote for The Looking Glass. It’s my favorite club.”
“At this point, I’m not even going to bother objecting or asking more questions.” I laughed nervously and added, “It’s not like I’ve seen you before, as in ‘seen’, so I guess you’re fairly safe. Of course, that’s assuming I trust my brain to protect my body.”
I followed Rubin out of the restaurant. He’d spoken to our waitress, but hadn’t paid her. Was this woman a friend of his? He didn’t look like he had much money, whether he wanted to pay or not. I’d have to get around to that money question again, but unless cops started to chase us because we hadn’t paid for our meal, I had more pressing concerns. We walked slowly back towards downtown.
“Wait, Rubin. Can I ask one more thing? You really only answered one question at dinner.”
“I wasn’t restricting my answers to the dinner table, so go right ahead.”
“You mentioned that I’m ‘talented’ and assuming that you really read minds, so you know I’ve seen things with my Tarot cards. Why? How come I saw what I did? It’s never happened before, so I’m not sure it’s me instead of something special about that deck of cards.”
“Well, it seems to me that those cards were merely a trigger, but that topic strays into taboo territory. I’ll say that as you get older, and use your gift more frequently, it will develop like any other talent. It is part of you.”
I felt better somehow. I found it comforting to know that I wasn’t part of some trick of fate and that I hadn’t just picked up a magic deck of cards that would have struck anyone with visions. But if I really could ‘see’ real life, real world things, did I actually have to worry about what I saw? More disturbing than seeing a strange mystery man or a random landscape in my mind was the image of my parents, afraid and angry on our living room couch. My gut told me the near future held a nasty shock for them and instinctively, I wanted to stop it. I contemplated calling to check on them.
“I doubt there is anything actually wrong with your parents, but as before, please consider the job opening I mentioned. It really is the next step. Remember that some of what your mind shows you is the past and some of it the future. It is possible that not all your visions are from pivotal moments in time. We don’t know enough about precognition or remote viewing yet.” Rubin watched me as I glared at the sidewalk. “But if you’d like to call home right now, feel free to use my phone.”
I stopped and looked back at him. Having someone pluck thoughts out of my head took longer to adjust to in actual practice. He obviously wasn’t willing or able to rein it in for my benefit. I opened my mouth to say something, but sighed instead and accepted the cell phone he handed me. I punched in my home number and relief washed over me when Mom answered.
Rubin waited patiently as she launched quickly into a tirade about the fact that I hadn’t called home soon enough. I shared the news about my job lead. I got in one comment about their lack of enthusiasm for my trip, but Mom was relentlessly aggravated by my inconsiderate tardiness in calling home. I mumbled something about having to give a friend’s phone back and ended the call. Rubin smiled politely and pocketed his phone without a word.
We walked in silence again, re-tracing our route from the restaurant and passing my motel as we wound through the streets. Rubin’s route took us into a light industrial area. We approached a run-down building, thumping with bass. I saw a sign designed to look like a broken mirror with the words “The Looking Glass” placed between the broken shards.
As we got closer, I noticed the size of the line outside and I groaned with exasperation. The prospect of being seen with Rubin partaking in the slightest semblance of a date-like outing embarrassed me. And then I remembered he could probably hear my catty reaction and heat flooded my cheeks. He’d been nothing but nice and I still had bitchy thoughts in my head.
“We don’t have to stay here.”
I let guilt overtake me, hoping he’d feel it. “I’m very grateful that you’re taking me out. I definitely would have been bored back at the motel,” I said as sincerely as I could manage.
Rubin smiled and kept walking past the end of the line-up. I hesitated for a step, lifted my eyebrows, and followed. Were we going to walk right past this entire stream of people? I grinned. Everything else pointed to his unlikely VIP status. Why not a club too?
The bouncer’s gaze flitted briefly over Rubin and hovered on me. He looked me up and down as he raised his hand to stop me. It hit me. This bouncer was the man I’d seen in the street fight Rubin watched the other day. He intimidated me even more up close. His massive muscular arms had thick, dark scars running from under his T-shirt cuffs all the way to his wrists.
“Casey, she’s with me,” said Rubin as I prepared to verbally defend myself.
I gave a small wave, feeling like a complete dork as the people waiting near the entrance glared at us when we walked up to the doors ahead of them.
At Casey’s nod, I nudged my way gently through a crowd of punk and goth twenty-somethings that made my Prince George friends seem exactly that–PG hicks. Inside the club. I came face to face with a boy sporting a tall blue Mohawk, more vibrant than my streaks had ever been. His forehead had three metal cone studs protruding from barely healed openings. I’d heard of dermal anchors before, but this was my first up-close look. He glared at me and put a cigarette in his mouth as I passed.
I caught up to Rubin as he leaned in toward the bartender shouting multiple drink orders. I waited behind him, scanning the room. It was pointless to look for people. In this club, on the other side of the province, I wouldn’t find a table of familiar faces. Rubin tapped me on the shoulder and passed me a screwdriver. I thanked him, noting that his ability might come in handy in a loud, crowded place. I wouldn’t hear him back, but at a bare minimum, he’d know what drink I wanted.
For a moment, I felt trendy and out of reach to my former hometown betters who still hadn’t seen a club this edgy. Then, I realized that all the tables in the dingy bar were full leaving my strange friend and I stuck in an awkward limbo between having ordered and choosing a place to hang out.
A pair of mid-twenties boys caught sight of us from the upper level. They waved to Rubin. They were sitting at a tiny tall table next to the dance floor. There was no room for us to sit. I followed Rubin over, preparing to linger as indifferently as I could manage if they only wanted to talk to him.
“Rubin! What the hell are you doing out tonight? And with a date!” said the muscular, scruffy, blond skater boy. The other half of yesterday’s fight! I could tell he was joking with Rubin, but I blushed anyway.
“Cole, nice to see you. Keeping out of trouble, I hope. And Jonah, I see you’re both having a
fun night on the town,” said Rubin.
Cole had dark eyes and a five-o-clock shadow, making him look grouchy in spite of his enthusiasm. He rubbed his right hand through his crew cut and shook his head at Rubin.
“Dude, nobody talks like that–‘night-on-the-town’. We’re getting wasted. We both had a long, shitty day at work. I’ve been working on a tectonic event simulation that crashed again. Can you believe it? But seriously, what are you doing here? And who’s the chick?”
Flashes of Cole’s fight popped into my mind as he spoke and it made me uneasy. His friend Jonah looked almost as uncomfortable with his surroundings as me. A crisp striped collared shirt and gelled black hair made him look much more professional than anyone else frequenting The Looking Glass.
“This is Irina. She’s new in town and she’s a guest at the Capital City Motel,” Rubin shouted over the louder song that had just started.
“Ah, old copper-top,” said Cole. He turned to me and said, “How do you like the city’s most notorious brothel?”
“Cole!” barked Rubin.
“It’s okay; he’s kidding,” added Jonah. “That motel is known for its karaoke bar, but that’s about it.” He looked at me with light, vivid aqua eyes. His irises practically glowed against his smooth pale skin, dark glossy hair and he smiled crookedly.
“Uh, I think I need another drink,” I said as Rubin pulled my empty glass from my hand. “Oh yeah. I guess you knew that,” I said, but he had slipped into the crowd.
“So, Irina, what brings you to Victoria?” asked Cole.
I looked at him, then at Jonah as I considered telling them the truth. They knew Rubin and were obviously ‘talented’ too. Still, I didn’t want to risk it.
“I’m looking for work. I’m from Prince George and the job market up there is only awesome if you’re in a trade. Rubin offered to hook me up with a job already at a place called Inno-something-or-other. He’s been pretty cool.” I hoped to avoid adding an explanation on how I’d actually met Rubin. Even if they knew what he could do, it felt sketchy to admit that I let some complete stranger show me the city.
“Innoviro Industries! That’s where we work!” said Cole, beaming. His square stubble-covered jaw softened substantially when he smiled.
“Seriously? Small world, eh. Is it a good place to work?” I asked.
“You could say that.” Cole grinned and looked at Jonah who rolled his eyes.
“Yes, Innoviro is a good place to work. You shouldn’t listen to anything this guy says in most cases.” Jonah gestured with the end of his beer bottle. Jonah looked around the bar as Cole said something into the ear of a waitress. “What kind of job are you applying for?”
“I don’t have much experience. Mostly working at a car dealership as an assistant go-for type. Rubin suggested something in admin.” The buzz of my drink diminished. “Speaking of Rubin, where is he?”
“Probably chatting and making friends as usual,” said Cole, speaking into his pint. “But never mind him. We’ve got shots to do!” he said as the waitress returned with a tray full of miniature glasses. She transferred them to the table. Unlike Rubin, Cole handed over a twenty-dollar bill.
“To your new life in Victoria,” said Jonah, lifting a shot glass. Cole did the same and we downed hot cinnamon liquid. They each grabbed their second shot and gulped it, so I did the same. I tried to steady myself as I surveyed the collection of empty glasses on the table.
“Let’s go dance before the posers invade.” Cole shifted off his chair. At that moment, my friend with the blue hair walked past us. “It’s started already. Look at this guy. He thinks he’s a freak. He wishes!”
A girl with black hair in a black coat waved at Cole and he darted off after her. Jonah smiled at me and gestured towards the dance floor. I had my liquid courage back, so I led the way.
The Looking Glass felt like the kind of club where disorganized flailing was the dance of choice, so I didn’t feel too out of place. I’d never learned to dance back home and I didn’t have the kind of figure that moved well without much effort. I wasn’t overweight, but it took more than a hip-wiggle to make me look sexy–especially while wearing a hoodie and jeans.
We twisted away to a couple of mainstream hard rock songs. Then hopped along with excessively nasal punk I didn’t recognize. The exercise hit me quickly and I overheated. I unzipped my hoodie as gracefully as I could, glad that I had on a reasonably clean T-shirt. I tried to limit my eye contact with Jonah to a few casual glances. But it was hard to look away.
“Are you wearing contact lenses? Your eyes are so bright,” I said and blushed, again.
“No, that’s au-natural. Well, sort-of.” He smiled.
I didn’t want to pry, so I left it at that. What if he could read my mind too! Damn it! Oh well, too late.
We kept dancing until the music changed to slow and steady electronic beats. Trent Reznor’s croon came out of the speakers nearby singing about a pig. Mom had always been a Nine Inch Nails fan and their songs conjured fuzzy childhood memories of evenings when our house hopped with raucous partiers. Jonah held out his hand and I took it. He pulled me against his body, breathing heavily. I wasn’t the only one feeling the cinnamon shots. I put my arms around his neck and rested my head on his chest and we danced in slow circles with the other couples in the dwindling crowd until Rubin put his hand on my arm.
The next morning, the weary blonde waitress in the motel diner brought me crepes before I had the chance to order. I sent them back. I stirred my coffee longer than I needed to, irritated that Rubin had been giving her instructions about me, pissed that I hadn’t learned much from him in the first place, and completely embarrassed about being hung-over. I’d washed and redone my makeup but I still felt wrung-out.
I continued stirring my coffee. Jonah probably pegged me for a hick lightweight after the way I’d made an ass of myself clinging to him and gawking at him. I acted like a child petting an animal for too long when Rubin pulled me away and insisted on walking me to the motel.
I let my coffee spoon drip for a moment before I set it down on my napkin. I reached into my bag, fished out my wallet, and set it in the middle of the table where the waitress would notice it. I remained uncomfortable with the idea of not paying for my room and board without a decent explanation. I pulled the card for Innoviro Industries out of my wallet and turned it over in my hand. If I got a job there and still didn’t learn anything, I would at least have a paycheck. If I had regular income, I could rent an apartment where I wasn’t being watched.
I wondered if Innoviro was a scam. For all I knew, I would walk into some dive where I’d wind up with a needle in my arm, getting pimped out the next day. I smiled at my own sense of melodrama. Victoria wasn’t exactly a hub of human trafficking as far as I knew. I could try the cards again and maybe coax another vision or two out of them. My stomach lurched with helplessness and guilt as I recalled the image of my parents’ distress in our living room.
I had to admit that my worst-case scenario for Innoviro sounded a bit extreme. I wanted to believe that Rubin was genuinely trying to help me for a solid, albeit still unknown reason. I had two pseudo facts to cling to, firstly, I hadn’t seen anything bad involving Rubin in any visions so far and secondly, Innoviro must be a legitimate company if I’d met actual employees.
Jonah I trusted, even if he did unnerve me with those piercing blue eyes. Cole, on the other hand, clearly had powerful violence inside himself, although he’d obviously resolved the matter with that bouncer if he sat comfortably inside all night. I frowned at the business card, thinking that Rubin shouldn’t have left me with such an unstable person, especially knowing I’d witnessed that temper and extreme strength in action.
“I’m sorry about the crepes. Here’s your mushroom and cheese omelet,” said the waitress, watching my expression as she set the plate d
own on the table.
“Sorry, I acted bitchy. I’m hung-over and I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“I can imagine,” she said as she walked away.
I doubted she could. Rubin had told her what to bring me for breakfast, but I suspected she didn’t know much more about his friends than I did. I tried to calm down as I cut off forkfuls of stuffed egg and focused on filling my stomach before I left.
I found the Innoviro office easily. I’d unknowingly passed right beneath it when I walked around the courtyard market on my first day. I hadn’t noticed it before, but I had been looking at beads and candy and trendy clothes. Even the belowground basement level had drawn my attention with snacks and toys and home decor. The top level of boring blind-filled windows had floated right over my radar.
A smooth stainless steel door shone under a die cut sign that read, ‘Innoviro Industries’ with the slogan ‘Shaping the World of Tomorrow’ in smaller letters. I considered the sign for a moment. The prospect of working for a sophisticated corporation intimidated me. I wondered what to say to whomever I found when I entered. I didn’t even have a resume. Looking for work had been a line for my parents. I took the business card back out of my wallet and opened the door.
“Hello, welcome to Innoviro Industries,” said a silky voice before I’d gotten the door closed again after me. “How can I help you?”
The voice came from a beautiful woman in a lavender cashmere sweater and a French roll swept behind her head. I’d never made half that effort for a shift at the dealership. This receptionist was no more than a few years older than me, but her expression radiated class and confidence. I looked around the office. It was grey, beige, and glass–disappointingly normal, except for a vault-style door at the end of a short hallway.
In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) Page 4
