The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(60)

“So these Pusher Traditionalists are like our Purists?” Eugene says, staring at me.

“Yeah, and they sound just as fun too,” I say.

“So it must’ve been one of them who killed Dad because of his research,” Eugene whispers.

“I’m not sure you should blame whole groups of people, be it Pushers or Traditionalists among them,” I say cautiously. “It might be just one crazy Pusher who took it upon himself to hire the Russian mobster we Read . . .”

“So you yourself are really a Pusher?” Mira says, clearly having a hard time digesting my story.

“I prefer Guide, but yeah, at least halfway, on my mother’s side, I am. I still don’t know much about my father, except I just confirmed that he was a Reader.”

“But that’s forbidden,” Eugene says, his eyes widening.

“You’re not one to judge,” I say defensively. “Don’t your people think half-bloods are forbidden, too?”

“It’s different,” he says uncertainly.

“Is it? Why couldn’t you date Julia?” I say.

Eugene doesn’t respond, and Mira seems to be trying to drill holes in me with her gaze.

“You lied when you said you were not feeling well when we spoke yesterday?” she finally says. To my surprise, that seems to upset her more than my being a Reader-Pusher hybrid. “You were actually going to a party?”

“I’m sorry I lied to you about that,” I say to her honestly. “I just didn’t think you’d like it if I told you the truth. ‘Sorry, Mira—can’t hang out, going to a Pusher party.’”

Eugene lets out a nervous chuckle and gets a furious look from his sister.

“And how do we know you’re not lying right now, or haven’t been lying to us all this time?” Mira says, turning to glare at me. “You lie so well when it suits you. How do we know this isn’t some kind of a Pusher trick?”

“A trick to do what, exactly?” I’m getting tired of constantly being accused. “Hand you the Pusher who killed your parents?”

“He’s right, Mira,” Eugene says soothingly. “I don’t see what possible nefarious Pusher purpose could be served by all this.”

“Fine. Let’s say I believe you.” Mira’s expression doesn’t soften. “What does it change? What do I care if some Pushers think they’re good and call themselves Guides? It doesn’t change the fact that one of them should die today. It doesn’t change our lack of plans. And no matter what you say about the few people you’ve met, the fact remains that they, like you, can f*ck with people’s minds—and that’s wrong.”

“It does change things because I have a plan in mind,” I retort. “And Reading can also be said to be f*cking with people’s minds. I think a lot of people would rather be made to do something than have their deepest secrets stolen.”

“Just like a Pusher to twist the truth,” Mira says angrily. “Mind f*cking is obviously—”

“Mira, please stop,” Eugene interrupts forcefully. He’s using that rare ‘big brother knows best’ tone of voice. “Let Darren tell us how we can deal with the situation at hand. We can exchange xenophobic drivel later.”

“Fine,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. “Do enlighten us, Darren.”

“Okay,” I say. “Thomas, the Guide from the Secret Service I mentioned earlier, offered to help me. Originally, it was in the context of what to do if I learned the identity of the person who tried to kill me at the hospital. Still, I’m sure he might be helpful in this situation, too.”

“And you think you can trust him?” Eugene asks doubtfully. “You only met him yesterday.”

“And he’s a Pusher,” Mira mutters under her breath.

“I think I can trust him, yes. If I didn’t trust him, it would certainly be for reasons other than his being a Guide,” I say, emphasizing the politically correct term. “The person I really trust is my aunt, but I don’t want to involve her in this situation.”

Mira gets a look of concentration on her face for a moment. “Fine. I just talked to Eugene, and he convinced me to give this insane idea a shot.”

“You talked—” I begin, but then I understand. She phased into the Quiet and pulled her brother in for a private conversation again.

“I’m sorry about that, Darren,” Eugene confirms my suspicion. “We had to think about such an unusual proposition. I vouched for you because I now see you as a friend. I hope I don’t regret it.”

“So you didn’t want to trust me,” I say, looking at Mira. Figures.

“If she didn’t, she wouldn’t,” Eugene says. “Mira doesn’t—”

“Shut up, Zhenya,” Mira says, giving him an icy stare. “Don’t you understand the concept of a private conversation?”

“Let me check to make sure Thomas even wants to help us,” I say. “Otherwise, this is all pointless.”

Since no one objects, I take out my phone and call Thomas.

“Thomas, this is Darren,” I say as soon as he picks up. “You said to call you if I needed help with the Guide who’s trying to kill me.”