Mystics 3-Book Collection (24 page)

Agent: Elizabeth Steele

Years in service: 15 years

Service stationed at: Hive # 416, Toronto
Branch. Last known station: Hive # 202, New York Branch.

Status: Single, no family or children on
record.

Parents: William and Nora Steele, both
deceased. No living relatives known.

At the bottom of the file written in big
bold letters was—MIA, PRESUMED DEAD.

Tears fell freely on her cheeks, and the
words on the paper blurred as she fought to control her emotions.
All those years of searching had come to this—her mother was
missing. There was no mention of her father, or of her for that
matter, but for now it was the best news she could have hoped for.
She held real tangible evidence in her hands. She had finally found
her
real
mother. There was no denying it—they were
practically twins.

As she started to flick through the rest of
the papers inside the file, voices came from outside the door.

Zoey shut off the flashlight. She crumbled
the file against her chest and flattened herself behind the chair,
against the wall and out of sight. Her face rubbed against the back
of the chair. It smelled old and musty and tickled her nose, but
she didn’t dare sneeze. She waited.

The door opened, and light poured into the
room. Zoey lowered herself until she lay flat against the floor.
She heard footsteps, and from the space under the chair she saw a
pair of ankles in dark gray pants and shiny black shoes. She prayed
it wasn’t Agent Vargas and kept her breathing to controlled and
quiet.

Then a deep voice said, “Hurry up, we don’t
have much time.”

Zoey didn’t recognize the voice. She
realized it wasn’t Agent Vargas, or Agent Barnes. But it still
wasn’t
good
.

A pair of black boots followed the black
shoes and stood in front of the desk. She heard a scraping sound,
the
beep
of a computer powering on, then the sound of
fingers typing on a keyboard,

“I’m in,” said a voice in a squeaky tone.
“It’ll only take a few minutes…”

Zoey caught her breath—she knew that voice.
But where had she heard it before? She strained to listen more
intensely.

“Good—find the codes. We can’t get in
without them,” ordered the man with the deep voice. “Are the others
ready?”

She heard more typing on the keyboard.

“Yes, everyone’s waiting for the signal. You
don’t have to worry.”

“Good, we make our move tomorrow night. Have
the others ready to move by morning. The Alphas will be waiting for
us at the safe house in London. Make sure no one sees you leave,
understood? You’ve already caused too much suspicion. We can’t
afford any mistakes now—we’re too close. You
do
understand
the importance of this, don’t you? I mean, you do know what we’re
fighting for—what we’re trying to achieve?”

There was a slight pause, and the other man
sounded a little annoyed. “Of course—I’m here now, aren’t I?”

From her hiding place, Zoey watched as the
pair of black shoes neared her. She stopped breathing. But then
they turned and walked over to the bookshelves. She heard the sound
of pages flipping in one of the books.

“We’ve been forced to abide by these
ridiculous
treaties
for too long. The Sevenths are a
pathetic excuse for an organization of Sevenths. These agents are
not the true disciples of the
Originals
—no Original would
dare befriend a monster. We were born with the gift to detect
monsters so we could protect ourselves from them—and destroy them.
The Originals rid the world of monsters, and now we will make them
our slaves like the rest of the Mutes.

“The Agencies are weak and useless—making
treaties with beasts and creatures from other worlds instead of
killing them. It’s deplorable. It’s disgusting—humans shouldn’t mix
with the beasts. The Alpha Nation is the only
true
nation.
There can be no other.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Mrs. Dupont trusts you,” continued the man,
“and I’m not sure why that is. I’m not entirely sure what
she
sees in you—your loyalty to the Alphas is
questionable.”

“Mrs. Dupont knows where my loyalties lie,”
said the man. His voice was edged with a bit of fear. “I don’t have
to
prove
anything to you. Her word should be enough. She
trusts me, so should you.”

And at that moment, Zoey recognized the
voice. It was the same squeaky mouse voice she had heard from the
man who spoke with the cat-lady. She was positive. It
was
him—and he was
here
at their hive. She was pleasantly
excited and scared at the same time.

The other man laughed. “Yes, well, we shall
see shan’t we? When the time comes, your true allegiance will
surface, and we will see whose side you’re really on,
friend
. Do you have the codes yet? It’s taking longer than I
expected. Hurry up before someone from your agency finds us in
here.”

There was a silence, then the other man
answered, “Yes, I’ve got them. It’s all here.”

Zoey heard a soft
clip.

“Good, now give me the flash drive.”

There was a pause, and the man spoke again
with a hint of irritation in his tone. “Give me the flash drive,”
he repeated, his voice rising.

“It’s all yours,” the other man replied
curtly.

Zoey listened closely. And what she heard
next changed things completely.

“Tomorrow is the brink of a new area.
Together we will witness the downfall of the agency
’s
headquarters, and once it is gone, every other wretched agency
around the world will be destroyed. One by one they will crumble
and fall. We will leave
no
survivors. The true nation will
rise.”

Zoey tried to control her nerves. If she
hadn’t been hiding so close to them, she might have risked a
glimpse. Without names, she would not be able to convince anyone to
believe her. She still felt a sense of responsibility towards the
agency. She knew she needed at least a description or a clue as to
the identity of these men. Zoey hesitated—should she risk showing
herself or not?

Just as she started to expose her head to
take a look, they left the room and closed the door. She raised her
head from behind the chair, the room was deserted. She crawled out
of her hiding place, the file still clutched in her right hand, and
made for the door. With a soft
click
it popped open about an
inch, and she peered out into Room 4A. It was just as dark as it
had been when she had stepped inside twenty minutes ago. There were
no traces of the traitorous men.

So much for that
, she told
herself.

She closed the office door behind her,
crossed the larger room, and slipped through the main door. She
closed it and listened carefully—nothing.

With the file clutched against her chest,
her adrenalin fluttered through her like butterflies—no one was
going to stop her from discovering the truth—rules or no rules.

Grinning from ear to ear, Zoey hurried
across the marble floors in her socks. How many traitors were there
in the hive? Why did they need codes? And what were they planning
on doing to the agency’s headquarters tomorrow?

One thing was for sure, she knew that the
cat-face woman’s name was Mrs. Dupont—and that somehow she was
connected to the Alpha Nation and to her mother’s imprisonment and
disappearance.

But first, she needed to warn the agency
about what she had heard. It was far too important.

She dashed down the corridor, thinking how
she could break the news gently. The gleaming marble floor was like
an indoor skating rink, and she skated in her socks, turned left,
and crashed into a hard body.

Z
oey slipped and
fell onto the hard marble floors. And when she looked up her smile
faded, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

“What part of you’re
not
allowed
anywhere near the hive didn’t you understand, Zoey?” growled Agent
Barnes.

Even in the dimly lit corridor, Zoey could
see the flush on his face.

“The fourth floor is off limits, especially
to you. What are you doing snooping around in the middle of the
night, Zoey? This doesn’t look good. This doesn’t look good at
all.”

She swallowed hard. “I—I—” she hesitated,
her cheeks burning. How was she going to explain this? She knew she
had broken like a
million
rules. Her mouth fell open but no
words came out.

“What do you have there?”

He grabbed the file from Zoey before she had
the chance to hide it. He flipped it open and stepped beneath one
of the wall scones for more light. After a moment, he looked up at
Zoey.

“Where did you get this?”

“In a file cabinet—in the Supernatural
Affairs room—”

“What? How dare you go in there!”

Agent Barnes leaned over her angrily. “You
can’t just go wherever you please! We have rules here. Room 4A is
strictly prohibited to anyone without proper authorization—little
girls are
not
allowed in there.”

He scowled and waved the file in her
face.

“Tell me something? Are you doing this on
purpose? Do you want to get kicked out of the program for good and
go live in some sad little neighborhood? You want to throw away a
chance of a lifetime? Well—do you?”

“No.”

“So why are you busting my chops? Why are
you making it so darn difficult for you to stay? You know how many
kids would kill to take your place?”

Zoey stared at her socks. “I just—I just
needed to find some answers about my mom. I can’t help it. I needed
to know who she was.”

Agent Barnes flipped the file open again.
“So, you think this is her?”

His voice softened when he saw the picture
in the file.

“
Elizabeth Steele
. Man, she really
does
look like you. I have to admit. Maybe it is her, and
maybe it’s not. But it says here she was never married and had no
children.”

“I thought about that,” said Zoey, “maybe
she kept me a secret.”

Agent Barnes raised his eyebrows. “Why would
she do that?”

Zoey pondered for a moment. “Because maybe
she knew I would be in danger.”

“In danger from what?”

“From the same people who imprisoned her in
Troll City—the Alpha Nation.”

Agent Barnes shut the file with a slap.

“The Alpha Nation doesn’t do dealings with
mystics. It’s just not possible. If you knew more about their
history, and
our
history, you would know that it’s
inconceivable. There’s just no way.”

He looked at Zoey with concern.

“I understand your need to know more about
your past, Zoey. I get it—really I do. And if this
is
truly
your mother, then I’ll help you find her. I promise. But you have
to promise to stop fabricating stories. It’s not exactly helping
your case. I’m on your side you know—you’ve got to give me
something real to work with.”

“They’re not stories, I’m telling you the
truth,” said Zoey. “Why would I make this up? Did you ask yourself
that? You can ask Tristan or Simon. They’ll tell you the exact same
thing. They were there. We went through it together. In a court of
law, they would be considered valuable witnesses.”

“Yes, well, I already had lots of
conversations with the both of them.” Agent Barnes shook his head.
“I don’t know what it is with the three of you, but you have to
stop—”

“But—” protested Zoey, but she was silenced
with one stern look from Agent Barnes.

“—at least until management’s come up with a
decision,” he continued. “You don’t want to make it worse. Your
future here is hanging on a thread.”

“You don’t believe me either?” said Zoey,
her voice wavering.

Agent Barnes pressed a gentle hand on her
shoulder. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that what
you’re telling us doesn’t make any sense, and it’s making it
really, really hard for us to believe you.”

Zoey struggled for a moment. Should she tell
him what she heard? Would he believe her? She decided it was too
important not to tell him.

“There’s something I have to tell you—”

“Oh good, you found her.” Agent Ward came
marching down the corridor wearing pink and white pajamas and pink
kitty slippers. She adjusted her glasses and swung a flashlight in
Zoey’s face.

“What are you doing here on the fourth floor
in the middle of the night! Operatives are prohibited from the
fourth floor, didn’t anyone tell you that?”

She pointed a long skinny finger at Zoey.
“Aria heard you, you know. She heard the front door close. And she
found your empty bed. Well, she woke us up in a panic.
You
don’t deserve her affection.”

“It’s fine, Sarah,” said Agent Barnes as he
lowered her flashlight from Zoey’s eyes. “Zoey was
sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking?” said Agent Ward
skeptically.

Agent Barnes nodded. “Yes, I’ve just woken
her up. I used to sleepwalk, too, when I was younger. They said I
had an over active mind. Guess Zoey suffers from that too,”

“Yes, we all know she suffers from
that
,” said Agent Ward.

“Well, we can’t punish her for
sleepwalking,” said Agent Barnes. “It’s not like she
knew
what she was doing.”

Zoey put on a sleepy face as best she could
and prayed the darkness would help her convince Agent Ward that she
had indeed been sleepwalking. It seemed to do the trick.

“Well,” she inspected Zoey. Her eyes stopped
at her socks. “Hmm, your socks are filthy girl. Next time you
sleepwalk try to remember to put on some shoes. Well, I suppose
that’s what happened. All right then, I’ll take her back.”