Mystics 3-Book Collection (25 page)

“Of course,” agreed Agent Barnes, and then
he added, “Hang on just a second, Sarah. Zoey, what was it you
wanted to tell me?”

Zoey froze for a second. Agent Ward was
eyeballing her through her glasses as though she was inspecting her
through a microscope. They would never believe her, especially
Agent Ward—not now.

“Ah, nothing,” she lied. “I don’t remember.
I guess I was dreaming.”

“Sleepwalking. My word. Off to bed, come
on.” Agent Ward steered Zoey by the elbow and then stopped when she
saw the file in Agent Barnes’ hands. “What’s that?”

“That? Nothing—just some paperwork I need to
catch up on.”

Agent Ward pressed her lips together in a
thin line. “Good night, Samuel.”

“Night, Sarah. Night, Zoey.”

As Zoey was led away, she turned one last
time to look at Agent Barnes who gave her a wink and then
smiled.

The next evening Zoey sat alone at table in
the
Wander Inn
staring at her dinner plate, her food
untouched. Through the window, the October sun was setting over a
blood-red sky.

Moving her food around in her plate with her
fork, she just couldn’t eat. She felt sick. The fall colors were
rich and striking, like a landscape painting, but even that didn’t
lift her spirits. Every passing hour made it worse. Earlier in the
day she had tried to leave the inn to look for Agent Barnes
herself, but each time Aria had stopped her. She had then asked
Aria to give him a message instead. But when Aria asked her what
this message was, Zoey couldn’t bring herself to say. Finally she
had scribbled the conversation she had overheard on a piece of
paper. She had folded the paper, written his name on the front, and
given it to Aria to deliver.

But that was this morning, hours ago, and
Agent Barnes still hadn’t come.

Aria walked over to Zoey’s table. “You
didn’t eat anything at all this morning either. Don’t think I
haven’t noticed, because I have. You need to eat something, Zoey.
You need your strength. It won’t do anyone any good if you starve
yourself.”

Zoey kept her eyes on the plate. “Did you
give Agent Barnes the note I wrote?”

Aria smiled. “Actually, I gave it to Agent
Ward. She was passing through, and she said that she would—”

“What!” Zoey dropped her fork, her heart
thumping hard in her chest.

“Oh, no, no, no. She won’t give it to him.
She thinks I’m a liar—she thinks I made everything up.”

“Zoey, what’s going on? What’s gotten you so
panicked? I’m sure Agent Ward will give him the note—why wouldn’t
she?”

Zoey felt the walls on the inn closing in on
her. “Because she probably read it.”

“What—”

Aria was interrupted when a strange man
stepped in. He wore a white polo shirt that looked like it was two
sizes too small and stretched tightly over his large gut. He pulled
out a chair and sat at a table facing Zoey. Even though it was a
cool evening, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. With dark
gray circles under his eyes, he looked like someone who hadn’t
slept in months. He combed the top of his receding straw-like hair
to the side with his fingers, in an attempt to hide the bald
patches on the top of his head. He got up and then sat back down
again, eying the room nervously.

Zoey lowered her eyes. There was something
very odd about his behavior. Why was he so nervous?

Aria looked at Zoey, “This conversation
isn’t over. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

She strolled off towards the man, sat down
with her back to Zoey, and began to chat,

Zoey got up slowly, without making a sound,
slipped away from the table and headed towards the door. She
reached out and wrapped her hand on the handle.

“Zoey! You’re not allowed to leave!” Aria
got up from the table.

“I need to speak to Agent Barnes, it’s an
emergency,” said Zoey hurriedly, and added with a smile. “Back in
ten minutes, promise.”

And with that she closed the door behind her
and galloped into the darkness of the grounds.

Suddenly, her skin prickled like a million
mosquitoes were biting her.

She stopped running and turned around, her
breath escaping her in coils of white mist. Trees swayed in the
cold winds, as their last leaves drifted to the ground. The forest
was dark and eerie this time of night. Even though she couldn’t see
it, she knew there was a mystic hiding in the dark. And from the
intensity of the reaction on her skin, she could tell that there
were more than one—and they were evil, very evil. Mrs. Dupont had
sent her dogs to finish her off.

She was at least two hundred yards from the
hive. She had no weapons, and she knew that someone wanted to kill
her. Should she turn around now? Could she make it if she ran? She
heard a twig snap and bolted.

Her adrenaline was like gasoline on a fire,
and Zoey ran fast. The orange light of the hive’s main entrance
shone more brightly as she got closer. Her thighs burned, but she
pushed on. She had run half way. She was going to make it.

SMACK!

A great white ball crashed into her, and
pain exploded on her side as she hit the ground. She managed to
roll over and get back on her feet.

She didn’t have to turn to see what had hit
her. Three humanoid creatures with sickly gray-white skin and small
red eyes had already surrounded her. They were fat and round with
no necks, like giant eggs with gangly limbs. They looked like
zombie versions of Humpty Dumpty.

“What do you want?” stammered Zoey. She
tried to look more confident than she felt. Her ribs throbbed with
pain, and she wasn’t sure she could make a run for it.

One of the mystics smiled, revealing two
extra-large and pointy fangs.

“Want?” it said in a high-pitched voice that
sounded like a violin. “What a funny question—don’t you know what
vampires
want?”

Zoey screwed up her face. “You’re
vampires
? But I thought vampires were supposed to be hot and
built like supermodels or something?”

“So what are you saying?” said the mystic,
looking slighted.

“Umm—you’re like—you’re like
fat
.”

The three vampires inhaled loudly and stood
still with stunned looks on their chalky faces. They looked like
three hard-boiled eggs about to crack. And then the shorter one
spoke.

“Vlad, the girl just called us
fat
,”
he said, his red eyes glaring.

“Are you going to let her talk to us like
that? Nobody talks to
us
like that. We’re vampires. We kill
people. She’s
soooo
dead.”

“Yeah, Vlad,” said the tallest of the three.
Zoey noticed it had drawn a pencil mustache under its flat
stretched nose.

“Let’s crush her. I want to feel her skull
explode under me. Then we can sip her blood like a milkshake on a
hot day.”

“We don’t
like
hot days, remember?”
whispered the short vampire, looking embarrassed.

“Oh, yeah right.” The tall vampire scratched
his round head. “Why is it again—why we don’t like hot days?”

“Cause the sun burns our skin, stupid.”

“Oh, right—because the sun burns us. Touché,
I forgot.”

The small vampire shook his head, disbelief
spread across his face. “How can you
forget
something as
important as that?”

“I just did. What’s
your
problem?”

“My problem? My problem is
you
—”

“Shut up, you two,” said the vampire
Vlad.

He waddled closer to Zoey. It was obvious
they didn’t use their legs very often. They looked like just bones
with no muscles.

He pointed a skinny finger to himself.
“We’re not
fat
we’re
round,
there’s a significant
difference. We are engineered that way for a purpose,
Agent
.
You see, contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t fly around with
bat wings—we roll.”

Zoey muffled a laugh. “Roll? Seriously? Is
this a joke?”

“She’s mocking us, Vlad,” said the short
vampire, his face twisting in rage. “She’s not taking us seriously.
I
hate
it when they don’t take us seriously! Why do they
always do this to us! It’s not fair!”

He kicked the ground in a tantrum.

“I’m with Victor,” said the taller one.
“Let’s kill her now—her voice is annoying. And she’s
small
.
I hate the small ones. They smell funny.”

He flashed his long gleaming teeth at
Zoey.

“But I’m sure her blood tastes good. Girls’
blood always tastes sweeter, especially when they’re young.”

“Patience, Virgil, patience,” said Vlad. He
smiled a toothy grin at Zoey.

“We will savor her blood and then take it
like a shot. They promised it would taste like nothing we’ve ever
had before. The blood of the innocent is always so delightfully
sweeter.”

Zoey took a step back. “Who promised? Who
wants to kill me?”

When they didn’t answer, she continued.
“It’s the Alpha Nation, isn’t. Mrs. Dupont? I know it’s them—you
can tell me.”

Vlad eyed her but didn’t answer, he just
smiled hungrily.

“I haven’t done anything to
you
,”
said Zoey. “Maybe we can make a deal or something? Or a trade?”

“There’s nothing you have that we want. It’s
nothing personal, my dear,” said Vlad. He picked at his teeth with
one of his talons.

“We’ve been hired to kill you, that’s all.
We’re on the job. Got paid quite a lot for you, too. Makes me
wonder why, for a scrawny little girl like you. You must have done
something that really made them angry.”

“I can think of a reason,” said Zoey. She
watched them closely. “The Alpha Nation wants to silence me because
of what I overheard them say—because I know what they’re planning
to do.”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been
eavesdropping. It’s going to cost you your life,” said Vlad as he
eyed her jugular vein.

Zoey suppressed a shiver.

“Why are you even working for them?” she
pressed. “They hate mystics. They want to destroy you and make you
their slaves. Why would you work for people like that?”

“Because…”

“Because
why
?”

“Because I said so! That’s why!” Vlad threw
his arms in the air.

“Enough with the interrogation—we’re not
here to play friends—we’re here to
kill
you…and that’s
exactly what’s going to happen, so stop your talking, little girl.
You’re the meal, and meals don’t talk back.”

“I’m sure the agency will double whatever
they’re paying you.” She blurted out. “If you’ll let me go and I
can explain to them—”

“HA! If you think we’re going to fall for
that again, you’re crazy.”

Zoey prepared herself to either hit
something or run. “But I’m sure if you’ll let me—”

“No.” Vlad raised his voice dangerously.

“We’ve already been paid. And we want the
blood we’ve been promised.”

His eyes went to her throat again. “Your
blood. It’s time for you to die. Roll her up, boys!”

Virgil and Victor leaped into the air and
rolled towards Zoey like giant bowling balls.

She leaped sideways just as she was about to
get hit like a pin. She couldn’t believe that she was going to get
crushed by giant vampire bowling balls. This was totally insane.
She wasn’t sure whether to be scared or to laugh.

Victor and Virgil skidded around. Leaves and
dirt spun in a blurry trail behind them as they rushed at Zoey
again.

Adrenaline pumping, Zoey ran as fast as she
could towards a large oak tree. The two vampire bowling balls
accelerated towards her, and at the last minute she jumped out of
the way. The two vampires hit the tree with a loud
crack
and
ricocheted back, spinning in the air. They landed hard, but kept
coming. It was like they were playing a game of pool, and she was
the eight ball—they were trying to
sink
her in.

The air shifted behind her, and she felt
someone almost upon her. She ducked down, twisted, and straightened
her right leg. The vampire hit her leg and flew into the tree with
a satisfying crunch.

But just as she turned, she was hit in her
lower back. She tasted the blood in her mouth as she fell. Her leg
was on fire, but she knew that if she stayed down she was dead.

“Fifty pints of blood if you crush her head
first,” she heard Vlad say.

He laughed a sick wet laugh. “It’s all about
getting the hit at the right angle, if you know what I mean.”

Zoey struggled to her feet, but she didn’t
have time to catch her breath before the other vampire bowling ball
spun towards her again. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
She was going to die—but she wasn’t going to go down without a
fight.

Just as he was about to make contact with
her, she jumped back and snapped her elbow into his chest, or what
she thought was his chest since he was a perfectly round sphere.
Her attacker crashed back, and the others tumbled over him.

She tried to run, but one of them crashed
into her back. Zoey fell face first into the hard ground with pain
so intense that she couldn’t even cry out.

With trembling hands she pulled herself over
and faced her attackers.

The three vampires rolled to a stop inches
from her feet.

Their evil grins distorted in their round
shape.

“Let me do it, Vlad,” said Victor eagerly.
“I want to mash her bones to a pulp. I want to hear her squeal when
I crush her skull. Oh, please let me do it, please, please,
please—”

“No,
I
want to do it,” protested
Virgil. “You got the old lady last night. It’s my turn now.”

“Old ladies don’t count.”

“
Yes
they do.”

“
No
they don’t.”

“Oh shut up, the both of you!” Vlad tried to
raise his arms.

“We’ll do it together,” he sneered.

“Yeah!” chorused Virgil and Victor
eagerly.