Mystics 3-Book Collection (38 page)

Then she got an idea.

She waited for the exact right moment and
whacked the two remaining twisters back towards the dust devil. The
mystic opened its mouth in surprise, and the twisters disappeared
down its throat. It swallowed inadvertently, belched, and then
exploded in a cloud of dust.

“Die, Agent!” echoed in the air as it
disappeared.

Agent Barnes and Agent Lee arrived at her
side, breathless from their own battles with the other dust
devils.

“Now that’s what I call,
eating
your
own
dirt,” remarked Agent Barnes with an astonished smile on
his face.

“You never cease to amaze me with your
inventiveness, Zoey. That’s why I wanted you to assist us today.
You’ll make quite the agent, and one day you’ll make us all look
bad.”

He looked at her like a proud father, and
she felt heat rise on her face.

Zoey smirked and sucked up the last remains
of the dust devil.

“I’m glad you think so,” she said, a little
out of breath. She raised her head and looked around. “Are there
any more of these dust devils to get rid of today?”

“No, the one that exploded was the last
one,” said Agent Barnes.

He inspected the ground, and when he looked
up he had a frown on his face.

“Judging by the size of the dust devil
combo, these critters must have crossed over into our world through
the same portal that was created by the stolen interlopers. It’s
the only way so many could have passed through without us knowing
about them.”

Agent Lee’s black shirt stuck to him, and he
reached up and brushed back the hair that was glued on his sweaty
forehead.

“These guys were nothing, compared to the
other monsters that crossed over.” His face looked troubled, and
Zoey had a feeling he was stopping himself from saying more.

Agent Barnes had told her that she had
closed the portal in time, but that loads of hostile mystics had
still crossed over — especially a very dangerous one.

“You mean that demon lord, right?” she
said.

She cringed at the memory of the hordes of
nasty beasts that had charged towards the opening of the portal a
few months back. It had been like a horrifying chariot race of
giant insect-like beasts and dead things. Ever since then she’d
been having nightmares in which their twisted faces stared down at
her from the London sky.

Now Agents Barnes and Lee shared a look.

“We haven’t been able to find him,” Agent
Barnes said.

“We
had
him but then he vanished
right off the grid. But he’s the least of our problems right now.
The Agency doesn’t want us to say anything. They don’t want to
start a panic at the Agencies, to scare you Operatives, but I
disagree. I think you should know.”

“Know what?” asked Zoey, her stomach in
knots. Her eyes darted from agent to agent.

“What is it?”

Agent Barnes’ eyes narrowed.

“For the past month, we’ve been gathering
intel that
mysterious
deaths are occurring all over the
globe. So far, the Mutes have labeled these deaths as
freak
accidents and even classified some as the work of serial killers —
but we recognize the signs — illegal hostiles are attacking humans.
Entire cities are affected. Thousands of hostiles crossed over into
our world, and we’re only just beginning to uncover them.”

“Why do you think you’ve been given more
field assignments than usual?”

Agent Lee picked some wheat out of his hair.
“It’s only your first week back. Did you wonder about that?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was the
normal
training,” answered Zoey.

The truth was, she
preferred
to be
out on field assignments rather than indoors.

When Agents Barnes and Lee had come to ask
for Zoey’s assistance on this job, Agent Ward had been making the
class learn a mystic dialect that sounded a lot like Klingon, and
it had given Zoey a massive headache. She couldn’t even sound out
the first letter in the mystic alphabet. She had practically thrown
herself out of the room when they had asked for her help; she had
been so eager to get away.

Agent Lee shook his head and adjusted his
glasses.

“Sorry to disappoint you Zoey, but this is
not normal training. Fourth years are out on the fields practically
every day — but that’s beside the point. You’re here because we
need as many able bodies as possible. We need to secure the cities
and protect the humans from the illegal mystics, before we get a
real uncontrollable mess on our hands.”

Zoey didn’t say anything. She knew the
Agency’s first priority was to keep the human population safe, and
she was glad to be part of something important. She felt honored to
be working alongside the two seasoned Agents. She would learn a lot
from them, and she desperately wanted to learn everything there was
to know about being an agent. For the first time in her life, she
was
good
at something. She just happened to be good at
catching monsters.

Her skills came naturally to her. Maybe it
was a result of her non-existent upbringing and the fact that she
had had to fend for herself since she was just a small child. Or
maybe she just had a natural flair for apprehending hostile
mystics. Either way, she was proud to think she could help.

Only last summer, Zoey had been cornered by
a group of people who shared her unique ability to see monsters. If
someone had told her a year ago that she’d be here now, fighting
the very same creatures that she’d tried to hide from most of her
life, she would have laughed in their faces and maybe even punched
them.

“I’ll take that now,” said Agent Barnes,
interrupting Zoey’s thoughts. He took her pink dust devil buster,
grabbed Agent Lee’s as well, and then shoved them all back into his
duffel bag.

“We better get these little devils back
soon. They don’t stay in their dust state for more than twenty
minutes. We don’t want to be near them if they unexpectedly
reform.”

“I’m trying hard not to think about it,”
said Zoey, as images of being shredded by thousands of
mini-tornados flashed in her mind’s eye.

Agent Barnes threw his bag over his
shoulder. Then he withdrew a round silver compact with a ring dial
and maps etched on the top from inside his jacket. Zoey saw his
reflection on the mirrored surfaces. The Double-Sided Mirrors
always made her think of fancy compasses.

“Double-Sided Mirrors ready!” ordered Agent
Barnes with a smile. “I want a smooth ride back home, people.”

Zoey flipped open her DSM. She could see the
reflection of her dirty, sweaty face staring back at her. She
desperately needed a shower and a Big Mac. Ready, she stood as
still as a statue and waited.

“There’s a cold beer I’d like to cuddle with
back at the inn.” Agent Barnes and Agent Lee shared goofy
grins.

“On my mark!” He angled his reflection in
his DSM. As his body started to flicker he said, “Ready — now!”

Zoey watched her reflection in her DSM. Just
as she began to shimmer, in the corner of her eye, just for a
second, she saw a dark shape standing in the middle of the field.
It was the same human-like silhouette she had glimpsed before. It
was staring right at her. But as Zoey tried to see more, her body
rippled, and the fields surrounding her vanished.

T
hat night Zoey
dreamed she was tied to a bed in a room with white walls. She had a
large sign around her neck that read PROPERTY OF NEXUS CITY, PLEASE
DON’T FEED THE LUNATIC. The walls glistened, and five men wearing
surgical masks and white uniforms emerged from the walls. She
couldn’t see their twisted, scary faces clearly. All at once the
men came at her. They wrapped their cold hands around her neck. She
couldn’t breathe. Her throat burned as she gasped for air. They
were going to kill her.

“Open the gates! Open them now!” said one of
the men angrily.

Zoey blinked the tears from her eyes. She
tried to speak, but she couldn’t.

“Do it, or you’re going to die!”

And just when she felt her life slipping
away, she woke up with a start. She was sweating, and her heart
beat in her ears like she had just run a marathon. Her head pounded
as though someone inside her forehead was trying to kick their way
out. A cold chill rippled down her spine as the images from her
dream lingered as if they had been real.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and
swung her legs off her bed. She stretched and made her way towards
the window. The sun blazed in a blue sky, and the grounds were
blanketed with a glittering white crystal carpet of snow.

Her nightmares had started a week after the
Alphas had attacked Headquarters in London. The dreams were always
the same. She would be tied to a bed in a white room with crazy
surgeon doctors going psycho on her and screaming at her to open a
gate to somewhere. And every morning she’d wake up in a sweat.

After the first nightmare, she had thought
about telling Tristan and Simon, but then had decided against it.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just the pressure of being in a
new environment. Besides, she didn’t want them thinking she was
going a little crazy.

Most of the kids would leave the Hive on
Friday evenings and spend the rest of the weekend with their
parents. But since Zoey had no family, she spent the weekends at
the Wander Inn with Aria, helping her with cleaning the rooms and
kitchen duties. She would also spend time talking with Agents
Barnes and Vargas who never seemed to go home. She would listen
eagerly as she picked their brains about their most dangerous
assignments. She was perfectly happy to spend her weekends
exploring the Hive and the woodland borders that surrounded it —
and practicing her new-found abilities.

Ever since Mrs. Dupont had insinuated that
Zoey, like her mother, had unusual abilities for a Seventh, she had
used the weekends to practice mirror-porting with her DSM in her
room.

After a quick shower, Zoey rushed downstairs
for a bite to eat. She skipped into the dining room and made her
way towards the long counter at the back. A few agents sat sipping
coffee as they conversed with each other. She pulled out a chair
and sat in her usual spot at the end table next to the window. She
had just gulped down half of the glass of orange juice that had
been waiting for her when six-foot tall Aria hurried over,
balancing four plates in her four arms.

“I made blueberry pancakes for you this
morning,” said Aria as she placed a plate toppling with pancakes in
front of Zoey.

Zoey stared at the mountain of delicious
pancakes. “You overestimate the size of my belly! There’s no way I
can eat
all
that.”

Aria placed a bottle of maple syrup on the
table. “You still need fattening up. You’re way too skinny. A
growing girl like you needs to eat more.” Her yellow cat-like eyes
sparkled.

Zoey laughed. “Duly noted, doctor. But I’m
sure I’ve already probably gained like ten pounds since I came to
the Hive.”

“You
needed
ten pounds,” said
Aria.

“Don’t think I don’t remember the state of
you when Agent Barnes brought you in. The Mutes had been starving
you. It’s just not right. All those foster children cramped
together in one room without enough food. What kind of Mute
government would let that sort of thing happen?”

“It’s all right.” Zoey plunged her fork into
the stack of pancakes. “I’m eating. See?”

Aria frowned. Her shark-gray skin creased on
her forehead.

“Take your time,” she said in a reproving
tone. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you rushing to get back into
your room on Saturdays. You spend all weekend cooped up in there.
It’s not healthy. You need to go out and play with your
friends.”

Zoey choked on a mouthful of pancake. She
coughed. “I have important things to do.”

“What
things
?” demanded Aria.

Zoey shrugged. “Just stuff. I need to catch
up on homework and Operative stuff. You don’t want me to fail, do
you?”

Aria’s yellow eyes widened. She pressed her
lips together. “You look guilty about something, and I’m going to
find out what it is. You mind yourself, Zoey St. John. I’m
watching
you. Don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”

And with that, Aria waddled over to the next
tables and served the agents.

After fifteen minutes of fighting with her
pancakes, Zoey felt like a stuffed turkey. She pushed her plate
away, leaned back, and wiped her mouth.

“ZOEY!”

Zoey looked up from her table. Tristan and
Simon walked through the dining room towards her. Tristan sauntered
between the tables. He wore a gray ski jacket over his strong
shoulders, a black T-shirt and baggy jeans. He was tall for his age
and built like a football player. His smile made him even more
handsome.

Simon was the complete opposite. He was
lanky, with blond hair, freckles and the goofy kind of face that
you could never take seriously. He had wrapped a hand-knitted blue
scarf many times around his neck, and it drooped over his
forest-green winter jacket. They both looked like typical
fifteen-year-olds, not soon-to-be-agents from a top-secret agency.
The three of them had become inseparable.

“Are you going to finish that?” asked Simon.
His large blue eyes were fixed on the four remaining pancakes on
Zoey’s plate. Before she could answer, he folded the pancakes
together like a sandwich and started eating them.

“Knock yourself out,” said Zoey, laughing.
“I don’t understand where all the food that you eat goes.”

“Me neither,” answered Simon, his mouth
full. His eyes widened. “Man, these are
awesome
. I’ve never
tasted pancakes as wicked as these. What’s in them? You think Aria
would make some more? I’m starving!”