The Enlightened (Mind Dimensions #3)(17)

“Is there any way I can leave this place and do this with Julia in New York? Or come back in a little while?”

“No,” Rose says, and for the first time, the good-grandma act slips. “We’re not taking the risk of you disappearing on us for good.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Sure,” she replies. “Just like with the Joining, we’ll wait until you make the right decision.”

Translation: I’m trapped in the Quiet, and in this stupid temple, and I’m not going anywhere until I agree to impregnate Julia.





Chapter 7





“I’m taking a walk,” I say. “I need some air.”

“I’ll be in the Hall,” Paul says and heads for the door.

“I’ll join you,” Rose says to Paul.

We exit together and walk for a few moments in silence until I stop, deciding to stay here, on the frozen exercise field.

“Come get us when you’re ready,” Paul says over his shoulder.

“You’re bound to get tired of playing here sooner or later,” Rose adds.

The bitch is rubbing it in. In general, their confidence is infuriating. And in no small part, it solidifies my answer.

Fuck, no.

Could they be bluffing when they say they’re willing to ‘wait as long as it takes’? I recall Rose inadvertently saying something about Paul running out of Depth, which would make sense given how he brought over a dozen people into the Quiet and used his Depth for the Joining. But I have no idea how much Depth he has left, which means I have no idea how much time I’ll have to kill.

“Hey, Caleb,” I yell and walk toward the big guy. I have a half-formed idea on how I can pass the time until Paul hopefully runs out of Depth, and if that turns out to be unbearable, I also have a contingency plan.

Caleb acts as if he didn’t hear me, so I get up close and cough.

“I heard you, kid,” he says without facing me. “I was ignoring you.”

Usually I don’t talk to people when they’re behaving so rudely, but since I need something from him, I ask, “Are you still mad about Jacob?”

“Mad? I’m f*cking furious,” he says. “Was there a good reason for you to undo years’ worth of painstaking undercover work?”

“There was,” I say. “He was going to shoot Mira. I had no choice but to pull that trigger.”

Caleb stops his exercise and gives me a serious look. “Why was he going to shoot her?”

“Because she was going to kill him.”

Caleb looks thoughtful. “Looks like she figured out who killed her parents after all. Clever girl.”

“You knew?” I ask, unable to believe my ears. I bet if Mira knew that Caleb had been aware of her parents’ killer all along, she would want to shoot him right about now.

“I wasn’t certain, but I figured it was likely him,” Caleb says. “But it could’ve been his Pusher partner or someone higher up the food chain.”

“Do you know who his partner was?” I ask with little hope. I suspect if he did, he wouldn’t be here; he’d be wherever that person is, killing him.

“No, and thanks to you, I don’t have a lead on him either,” Caleb says bitterly. “I didn’t tell the girl because she was conducting her own investigation, and one way or another, she would’ve led me to the right people.”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “You used Mira’s quest for revenge for your own means?”

“And her as bait, yes,” he says.

“I thought you were friends.” I’m actually relieved. At one point, I thought there might’ve been deeper history between the two.

“We weren’t friends.” Was there some defensiveness in his tone? “When I showed interest in her little vendetta, she thought there was more to it than that and tried to flirt with me. Of course, you don’t need to worry,” he says with mock concern, after he sees I’m ignoring the ribbing. “I turned her down, gently. She wasn’t even eighteen at the time. Much too young for me and jailbait to boot.”

I recall how he pretended not to know why Pushers would be after her when she got kidnapped and Eugene came asking the Reader community for help, and how he then easily agreed to partake in the rescue mission. He wanted to see whether the Pusher he’d been stalking would take the Mira bait. He must’ve also been interested in seeing how Jacob would refuse to help, revealing a small clue as to his allegiance to the mystery Pusher.

These thoughts remind me of why I came over to talk to Caleb in the first place. I want to learn how to fight better. If I were a better fighter, I would have, for example, given in to my strong urge to punch him in his smug face. Today seems to be the day for violent urges.

“I’ve gotten into a couple of fights since we did that Joining,” I begin, changing the sensitive topic. “I noticed I can fight much better than before, but I still don’t really understand what I’m doing, or how.”

“Yeah. You aren’t that bad, all things considered.” Caleb actually looks serious. “I know from experience.”

This is as close to an olive branch as anyone has probably gotten from Caleb, so I say, “Thanks. How do I improve?”