The Thought Readers Page 14

  Without much ado, I walk up to Stacy and touch her temple.

  * * *

  We’re walking into the room with Julia. Oh shit, he’s here, we realize, looking at Caleb. Of all the times we’ve made a fool out of ourselves, the time we got drunk with Caleb is hardest to forget for some reason. Probably because he’s a real man, unlike the rest of the guys here. It’s mostly a bunch of rich mama’s boys in this community. Well, except for Sam and the other guards.

  I, Darren, try distancing myself from Stacy, the way I did in the now-dead Sergey’s mind earlier. I latch on to her memory of something involving Caleb, and try to remember what happened. I also notice that the feeling of lightness coming over me is overwhelming this time. If I feel any lighter, I might actually start floating.

  “Caleb, you can’t drink that as shots. It’s sacrilege,” we say, watching our favorite customer down a shot of uber-expensive Louis the XIII Cognac like it’s cheap vodka.

  “How am I supposed to drink it?” he says, giving us a cocky smile. “Show me.”

  “Are you buying?” we say. “I can’t afford a three-hundred-dollar shot.”

  “Sure,” he says. “How much for the whole bottle?”

  We grin at him. “You don’t want to know. My suggestion would be to switch to good vodka.”

  “What’s good?”

  “Try this,” we say, pouring a couple of shot glasses of Belvedere, the better of the two pricey vodkas they stock in this place.

  We take a shot glass ourselves and cross arms with Caleb, planning to have our shot poured into his mouth, and hoping he does the reverse. “How about a toast?”

  When we see the expression on his face, our heart sinks.

  “I’m sorry, Stacy. I wasn’t trying to hit on you,” he says, gently pulling away.

  Goddamn it. Not this again. What’s wrong with the men in this fucking community? We know most others are probably just rich snobs, but Caleb is their security. What is his deal? And Sam’s? It’s like a girl can never get laid around here.

  I, Darren, distance myself again. I feel a little gross. After all, I’m in the head of a girl who’s clearly lusting after this guy. What’s worse, from Reading her, I completely understood what it’s like to want to take a guy home. I need to get out of Stacy’s head, fast.

  * * *

  “Okay,” I tell Julia when I’m out. “I think I have something to convince you. She wanted to sleep with him.” I point at Caleb. I stress the word ‘she’ too much, and Julia smiles at my discomfort.

  “You men and your homophobia,” she says, walking over to Caleb.

  In a moment, Caleb’s double appears, the animated version of him looking at Julia curiously.

  “He says that Stacy was interested in you,” Julia tells him.

  “That’s his proof?” Caleb says, grinning from ear to ear. “That sounds more like an educated guess to me.”

  “Right, because every woman wants you?” Julia says sarcastically.

  “You tell me.”

  “Not if you were the last man on the planet,” Julia retorts sharply.

  “Louis the XIII Cognac,” I say, tired of their back-and-forth. “Three hundred dollars for a shot; vodka shots; turning the girl down. Any of that ring a bell?”

  Caleb’s face turns serious. “I do remember that now,” he says, frowning at me. “But it doesn’t make sense. It was months ago.”

  He stares at me intently, like he’s seeing me for the first time. Julia is also staring. Then they exchange meaningful looks.

  “Okay, Darren,” Julia says, looking back at me. “You have to be one of us.”

  She walks toward herself and touches the frozen Julia’s cheek.

  The world comes to life again.

  Julia looks from me to Eugene, then back to me, waiting for Stacy to leave the room. When the bartender is finally outside, the short guy who went to get her closes the door.

  “Darren’s one of us,” Julia says. “I can vouch for that. He’s not Pusher scum.”

  Everyone seems to relax. There had been tension up to this point, but that tension is gone now. They really dislike Pushers over here. Given what Pushers did to Eugene’s family, and what I suspect they did to my own parents, I can’t really blame them.

  “That still doesn’t explain what that half-blood degenerate is doing here,” Sam—Caleb’s annoying doppelganger—says. A few people nod their heads and murmur their agreement.

  “Watch it, Sam. Eugene is my personal friend,” Julia says, staring the guy down. Sam sneers, but keeps quiet. When Julia turns away, however, the look he gives Eugene is even more hostile than before.

  “My sister has been taken,” Eugene explains, ignoring Sam. “And I think Pushers are behind it.”

  This last statement gets everyone’s attention, even the asshole Sam’s.

  “Why would Pushers be after Mira?” Caleb says, his eyes narrowing. It sounds like he knows her.

  “They’re not after her—they’re after me,” Eugene explains.

  “Is this a continuation of that story you told me about your parents?” Julia asks.

  Sam scoffs. “You mean that crazy conspiracy theory—”

  “Shut it, Sam,” Caleb cuts him off. “Let’s get the facts without needless commentary.”

  I can tell Sam is dying to talk back, but decides not to. I guess that means Caleb outranks him or something.

  “Please start from the beginning,” Julia says to Eugene. “Tell everyone what you told me.”

  Looks like I was right earlier. There’s definitely some kind of history between her and Eugene.

  “I believe,” Eugene says, giving Sam a hard look, “that my parents were killed because Pushers were trying to kill my father and me.”

  “Why would they want to do that?” Caleb asks.

  “Because of my father’s research. He was working on some things they would’ve found unnatural,” Eugene says, and there’s anger in his voice. “He was trying to figure out how Reading and Splitting into the Mind Dimension work in the brain.”

  The room grows tense again.

  “That kind of research is forbidden,” Sam says harshly, frowning.

  “It’s not forbidden,” Julia corrects him. Like Caleb, she seems to have some authority around here. “As long as the research is never published and is only discussed with peers who are Readers themselves.”

  “My father was very discreet. Very few people knew what he was working on,” Eugene confirms. “I believe something about his research made Pushers think that Readers would gain a big advantage if he succeeded.”

  “And would we?” an older woman asks. She’s been quiet up until now, but from the way everyone looks at her, I can tell she’s important.

  “I’m not really sure,” Eugene says. “I don’t know the practical applications of what he was doing—but I imagine so. Any good science has real-world benefits.”

  “Eugene is more interested in theory, Mom,” Julia tells the older woman. “He’s above politics.”

  “So they’re trying to kill you because you inherited the same research your dad was doing?” I decide to butt in.

  Everyone looks at me with surprise. They probably assume I already know what’s going on since I came with Eugene.

  “Exactly,” Eugene says. “When I used that first test on you to see if you were a Reader, I did it using the method Dad developed back in Russia. The fact that they tried to kill me today is extra evidence he was killed over his work. They missed killing me that day. I was shopping for groceries.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “For those of you who don’t know, my parents were murdered when their car exploded right in front of our house. My sister was coming back from school—she saw the whole thing.”

  Julia walks over to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. Her mother frowns, and Sam looks furious. I wonder if he has the hots for Julia, or just hates Eugene because he’s a ‘half-blood.’

  “Was there any proof of his words in the minds o
f those men you killed outside?” Julia’s mother asks.

  “Kind of,” says Caleb. “Sam and I checked them thoroughly. There were signs of Pusher activity in the mind of the driver. He drove their boss someplace, and the Pusher made him forget what he heard when the boss spoke to the Pusher on the phone. We couldn’t get a visual on the Pusher, of course.”

  “The fact that there’s a Pusher involved is good enough reason to help them as far as I’m concerned,” Julia says.

  “Right. The fact that his sister slutted around the Russian mob has nothing to do with her capture,” Sam says, sneering again. I really don’t like this guy. If he wasn’t so big and scary-looking, I’d strongly consider punching him in the face.

  “Mira was trying to find the people who killed our mother and father,” Eugene says defensively. “I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “Mira isn’t someone who’d be easy to control,” Caleb says, chuckling. Is that admiration I see on his face?

  “Well, if you ask me, the simpler explanation for the kidnapping would be his sister’s gambling debt,” Sam says. “As to the original explosion, it’s more likely that his father’s ‘friends’ from Mother Russia had something to do with it. Isn’t that more plausible than some crazy theory about Pushers?”

  “I think the Pusher used the Russian mob for that very reason—so that the police would think the explosion had something to do with what my dad did in Russia,” Eugene says, his face turning red with anger. “Only that’s bullshit; Dad was the most honest and peaceful man I’ve ever met.”

  “Okay,” Julia says. “We can debate this until the cows come home, and it won’t solve anything. The only way to figure out what’s really going on is to rescue Mira—which is what I think we should do.”

  “Julia, you need to consult your father on this,” Julia’s mom says, and Julia frowns at her.

  “She’s right,” Sam says. “Jacob would never want to get involved in these exiles’ business.”

  “Well, let’s find out, why don’t we?” Julia suggests, and walks over to a desk to get a laptop.

  Chapter 20

  “What are you going to do?” Julia’s mother asks.

  “Skype with Dad, if that’s what it takes,” Julia responds, turning on the laptop.

  As her video call is connecting, Julia motions for Eugene and me to come closer. We gather around the computer, and I see a middle-aged man with tired, beady eyes appear on the screen.

  An expression of distaste crosses his stern face as he sees Eugene.

  “Hello, Jacob, sir,” Eugene says respectfully.

  “Hi Dad,” Julia says.

  “Hello,” I say politely.

  “Who are you?” Jacob asks, staring at me.

  “This is Darren, Dad,” Julia says, “a new Reader we discovered.”

  “A new Reader?” he says, watching me intently. “You look familiar to me, kid. Who are your parents?”

  “He doesn’t know who they are,” Eugene jumps in, and Jacob’s face reddens at the sound of his voice. I’m glad Eugene volunteered this information because, as embarrassing as it is, I don’t know the last names of my parents. Just their first names: Mark and Margret. I need to find out their last names when we’re out of this mess. For all I know, I could have extended family in this very room.

  “Everyone knows who their parents are,” Jacob retorts, but he’s not looking at Eugene. He’s still boring into me with his beady eyes. “But we’ll continue this conversation another time. For now, I’d like to know what this call is about,” he says, turning his attention to Julia, “as well as what he—” he gestures at Eugene, “—is doing in our compound.”

  “Eugene needs our help, Dad,” Julia explains. She then proceeds to tell her father a much smoother, more plausible version of the theory about Eugene’s parents. She’s good. She downplays the research Eugene and his dad worked on, which appears to be controversial in this community. She highlights the Pusher involvement every chance she gets. “So I want to help them and learn more about this matter,” she says in conclusion.

  “Hell, no,” her father says, catching me completely by surprise. “I thought I forbade you from ever consorting with that half-blood.”

  “This has nothing to do with my personal life; it’s about standing up to the Pushers,” Julia says, glaring at her father. Her face takes on a rebellious look, making me remember my own interactions with Uncle Kyle.

  “My decision is final,” Jacob says. “I want him out of the community. He should be grateful our security saved his life. If I had been at the compound, that would not—”

  Before Jacob gets a chance to finish his last sentence, Julia closes the laptop with an angry bang.

  This seems like as good a time as any for me to phase into the Quiet, and I do.

  When everything is still again, I look around. Julia is clearly pissed. Her mother’s expression is neutral. Though Sam is standing a bit to the side, he clearly heard the conversation because he looks grimly satisfied.

  It’s interesting to contemplate the fact that in this room, everyone could be doing what I’m doing right now, at any time. Are people watching me frozen as they do so? It’s hard to imagine myself standing there, not moving, not thinking, as someone else goes about his or her business while I’m none the wiser.

  Shelving these thoughts for later, I touch Eugene’s forearm.

  “What do we do now?” I ask him when he joins me in the Quiet. “That was a huge flop.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Eugene says. “I didn’t really have a clear plan.”

  “This Julia, how do you know her? She seems to be sympathetic.”

  “We had a class together in college. Then, for some reason, she agreed to date me.” He smiles ruefully. “But when her father found out my status, he freaked out. He’s very traditional.”

  “And this is supposed to be more open-minded than Russia?”

  “That I’m alive is testament to that,” Eugene says. “I thought we might have a chance at getting help here because Jacob hates Pushers more than anyone. Under normal circumstances, anyone even remotely in trouble with Pushers automatically becomes an ‘enemy of his enemy’ kind of friend.”

  “Except you,” I say, looking at him.

  “Right. I think my history with Julia hurt our chances. The problem is, this is Mira’s life on the line, not mine.”

  “If you don’t mind, I want to talk to Julia some more,” I say, unwilling to give up.

  “Go ahead,” he says. He looks over at her, his face drawn. There’s something in his eyes, in the way he watches her, that tells me he’s far from over her. Then he shakes his head, looking away. “I’m not sure if it’s going to help, though.”

  Instead of arguing, I walk over to her and pull her in.

  “Darren.” She smiles at me. “I was about to Split to talk to the two of you. It looks like you beat me to it.”

  “It’s funny how that works,” Eugene says. “I have this time-slicing algorithm I developed that simulates—”

  “Eugene, I’m so sorry about my dad,” Julia interrupts him gently. My guess is that she wanted to stop a science diatribe. I suspect it’s not the first time she’s done this. “Let’s talk about what we can do for Mira, if you don’t mind.”

  “After the conversation with your dad, I thought you wouldn’t be able to do anything to help,” Eugene responds, science forgotten as worry shadows his face again.

  “I’m going with you,” she says. “Together, we’ll get her out of whatever trouble she’s in.”

  “No,” Eugene protests. “That would be too dangerous—”

  “I’m doing this.” She gives him a steely look. “I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do.”

  “No, Julia, I don’t mean to tell you what to do.” Eugene immediately backtracks. “I just worry about you, that’s all . . .”

  Her icy glare warms considerably, and she takes a step toward him.

&n
bsp; “With all due respect,” I interject, “how can you help us, Julia? This sounds like a job for someone like that.” I point at motionless Caleb.

  “I’m good at getting into places I shouldn’t—picking locks, that kind of thing,” Julia says, turning to look at me. “It’s a skill that could come in handy in exactly the type of mission I imagine this will become. But you’re right, we need Caleb or one of his people. We have to convince him to help without my dad’s orders.”

  “How do we do that?” Eugene asks.

  “Can we pay him?” I suggest. With the stock options I got at the gym, money will soon be easy to come by. Even easier than it usually has been for me.

  “If you’re talking about money, it won’t work,” Julia says. “But there are other forms of payment.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Eugene looks puzzled.

  “Nothing sinister.” Julia grins. “You see, your friend Darren seems to have impressed Caleb. Actually, he impressed both of us with his Reading Depth.”

  “Oh?” Eugene says, and I recall that this is a sensitive subject for these people. Something like asking about the size of someone’s paycheck or his package were the analogies used, I think.

  “What does my Reading Depth have to do with Caleb?” I ask.

  “Caleb is obsessed with improving his fighting skills,” Julia says. “He’s already rumored to be the best fighter among the Readers. Still, he’s always looking to get better.”

  “I’m not going to fight him, if that’s what you’re about to offer,” I say, shuddering. I’m not a fan of violence, plus I’m not suicidal. The guy will probably kill me before I get a single punch in.

  Julia laughs. If she weren’t laughing at my expense, I would say her laugh was nice. In general, she’s a very pretty girl. I can see why Eugene likes her, and I can tell that he truly does. I’m less clear why the reverse is true, but it must be, as I catch her giving him decidedly warm glances. It’s weird—I always thought geeky types like Eugene didn’t do well with women. Of course, this is based solely on my friend Bert, which isn’t exactly a valid statistical sample.