The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(21)

“Let’s phase out,” I tell Eugene, and without waiting for his answer, I touch my forehead.

The world comes back to life, and Brad brings us the stupid salt. Eugene thanks him, and we walk back toward Eugene’s apartment.

“How was that?” Eugene asks on the way.

He has no idea this thing happened between his sister and his neighbor. I decide to respect whatever shred of privacy these two have, and at least not mention anything to Eugene.

“That was a good start,” I say. “I think we should go outside and do some more.”

“Eugene,” a pleasant female voice says. A voice I just heard in Brad’s memory. “Who the f*ck is this?”

I look up and find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. Again.





Chapter 10


Okay, I am officially sick of guns being pointed at me. Even guns pointed by a beautiful girl I just saw naked in someone’s mind.

“Mira, put the gun down,” Eugene says. “This is Darren. I just texted you his picture. You didn’t get it?”

She frowns, still holding the gun trained on me. “No, I haven’t checked my phone. Does your text explain how this creep stalked me all the way here from Atlantic City?”

“No, not exactly,” Eugene admits. “But you have to cut the guy some slack. He tracked you down, but he has a good reason to be persistent. You’re the first other Reader he’s ever met.”

I can tell that this knowledge surprises her. “How can I be the first Reader he’s met?” she asks skeptically. “What about his parents? What about the other Readers from wherever his home is?”

“Manhattan,” I supply helpfully. “And in regards to parents, I’ll be having a very serious conversation with my mom about this very subject. For some reason, she didn’t tell me anything about this. And I’ve never met my father, but Eugene convinced me that he couldn’t have been a Reader because my mother got his sperm from a bank.”

As I’m talking, Mira looks at me with more and more curiosity. “A sperm bank?” she repeats.

“Yes. My mom, she wanted a child, but couldn’t bring herself to be with a guy, I guess.” Thinking of my mom in this context is weird, at best.

“Why? Does she hate men?”

Did Mira just say that approvingly?

“She likes women,” I say. “I have two mothers.” I’m not sure why I added this last part. Usually you have to ask probing questions for a lot longer before I reveal such personal information.

To her credit, Mira hardly blinks at that. Instead she says with a frown, “If she got sperm from a bank, that would mean she voluntarily mated with a non-Reader. Why would she have done that? Surely she knew she’d get exiled, like our dad.”

“That’s a good point,” Eugene says. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that when Darren first mentioned it to me.”

“You say that like you’re surprised I could make a good point,” Mira says to her brother, but her tone is more teasing than sharp. “Don’t forget, you wouldn’t survive a day without me—the dumb, uneducated one.”

Eugene ignores her statement. “Can we get out of this hallway?” he says. “I want to get something to eat.”

Mira finally lowers the gun and puts it back in her purse. “Fine, I’ll be right back.” She goes into the apartment. I look at Eugene questioningly, but he just shrugs.

She’s back momentarily. She changed from her heels and dress into jeans and sneakers. I wonder where she’s been, so dressed up. She looks great in the simpler outfit, though, and I can’t help thinking back to my experience in Brad’s head.

As I’m sifting through the hot pictures in my mind, she tells Eugene, “Are you seriously going out like that?” She gestures toward his stained lab coat.

He mumbles something and disappears into the apartment as well. When he comes out, the lab coat is gone, and he’s wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt that looks two sizes too big. Mira shoots him an exasperated look, but doesn’t say anything else. Instead she walks over to the elevator and presses the button.

“I don’t think that works,” I say, remembering having to go up all those stairs.

“Trust me,” she says. “It’s just the first floor that doesn’t work.”

And she’s right. The elevator comes, and we’re able to exit on the second floor. From there, it’s only a single flight of stairs to get out of the building.

“What exactly does it mean to be exiled?” I ask as we walk in the direction of the bigger street, Kings Highway, in search of a place to eat.

“It’s complicated,” Eugene says, looking at me. “Our dad was exiled from the community of Readers in St. Petersburg, Russia, and that was pretty bad. He couldn’t visit his childhood friends and family. Readers in Russia, in general, are much more traditional, but it was especially bad almost thirty years ago, when I was born. It was terrible for him, he told us.”

“But he did it for Mom,” Mira adds.

“And for us. He left it all so he could have children with her.” Eugene sounds proud of his father. “Thankfully, it’s different here. In present-day America, especially the New York City area, the Readers’ community is more open-minded. They recognize us as Readers—unofficially, at least.”