Mystics 3-Book Collection

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Mystics 3-Book Collection Page 45

by Kim Richardson


  And then, amid all the chaos, she could hear someone singing - and doing a really bad job of it, too.

  They followed the noise of the horrible singing to the main hall where Agent Barnes and Agent Lee stood back-to-back singing a song. The front doors had been smashed in, and the two agents were surrounded by the strangest creatures Zoey had ever seen.

  They looked like orange and black housecats with small ears, large heads, and giant mouths full with rows of sharp teeth. Dozens of the orange creatures had latched themselves on to Agent Lee and Agent Barnes, who fought against the toothy creatures desperately. Orange fur flew in all directions.

  Zoey was the first to reach them. Agent Barnes’ face was the only part of his body not covered in orange fur.

  “What are these?” she called and jumped back from their razor sharp teeth.

  “Zoey?” yelled Agent Barnes. “Oh, thank God, these are Grims. Nasty little critters. I hate them more than I hate fairies—and I hate fairies—so I hate them a lot.”

  “How do we get them off?”

  “Please tell me you can sing?”

  “What?” said Zoey, puzzled. “Well, I’ve never had any lessons if that’s what you mean—”

  “Just sing something, please, anything!” cried Agent Lee. “They love singing.”

  His face was severely scratched, with red bite marks.

  “Okay…” Zoey tried to remember a tune by her favorite all-girl band, The Whizzes. She hummed one of their songs in her head and then began to sing.

  She was so embarrassed that she sang to the floor and avoided Tristan and Simon’s astonished looks. She was surprised that she remembered all the lyrics. When she looked up, the creatures blinked at her with big orange eyes. But then their fur began to bubble and grow, and they started to multiply. Twenty new Grims stared at her, opened their mouths, and attacked her.

  “Ah!” Zoey screamed, as she tried to get them off.

  Tristan and Simon jumped to her aid, but soon they too were overcome by the orange critters.

  “I thought you said you could sing?” said Agent Barnes, as he backhanded a furry mystic off his shoulder. “Well, they didn’t like your voice. Obviously, it wasn’t good enough - they multiply when they get mad.”

  “Jeeze, thanks.” Zoey scowled as she kicked an orange mystic with her boot. She grabbed another Grim by his tiny feet and sent him sailing across the hall.

  “I never said that I could. I told you I never had lessons.”`

  “I can sing,” said Simon.

  Everyone stared at him.

  “I can sing,” he repeated, a little annoyed.

  “So, sing!” cried Agent Lee under a blanket of orange fur.

  Simon cleared his throat and began singing. His voice rang out like an angel’s. She had never heard him sing before. He had a beautiful classical voice with a lot of range. She didn’t recognize the song, and before she knew it he had stopped. But it had been enough, and the Grims developed goofy smiles and closed their eyes. They started to drop like flies.

  Within seconds, the Grims peppered the floor in an orange carpet. They purred loudly and began to snore. The ferocious little fiends were fast asleep.

  Zoey stared wide-eyed at Simon.

  Simon shrugged. “What?” His ears turned red when Tristan patted him on the back.

  Agents Lee and Barnes rolled the snoring Grims into a pile.

  “They won’t wake up any time soon,” said Agent Lee, as he fixed his hair.

  Agent Barnes made his way towards Zoey. “You look like you’ve been to hell and back. Did you get it?”

  “Yes,” she answered proudly. “We ran into some trouble, but it was nothing the boys and I couldn’t handle. I’ve given the sample to Agent Franken. He says he should have a cure in about an hour or so.”

  “So it was right where you thought it would be?” Agent Barnes watched her closely.

  Zoey nodded. “Yes.”

  “The cat-faced woman,” interjected Agent Lee, still fixing his hair. “That’s who did all this?”

  “Yes, and she’s quite insane.” Zoey recounted her adventure with the Alphas and the transfiguration chamber.

  “She’s fusing mystics and humans together?” Agent Barnes dropped his gun. “What kind of crazy is this woman? Where did she come from? Does it even work?”

  “The woman’s in a psychotic class of her own,” said Simon. “She’s building an army of half-breeds. But it doesn’t always work. Tristan and I saw a lot of people die in the transfiguration chamber.”

  “There’s more,” said Zoey. “Mrs. Dupont’s been around for a long time…she has portraits of herself dating back at least four hundred years. And I think I know how she’s kept herself alive for so long.”

  “How?” said both agents at the same time.

  “When she had me brought into her special room,” began Zoey, seeing Tristan very interested in what she was saying, “I saw that she’d been experimenting on herself—injecting herself with mystic blood and genes. I think she looks the way she looks because of it. She’s fusing herself as well, but in a different way. I think it’s also making her sick. I think she’s losing her mind.”

  “So she was her very own test subject,” said Simon, looking as though he was about to be sick. “The woman’s seriously demented.”

  Agent Barnes looked at Zoey and added gently, “…And your mom?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to speak about it, so she just shook her head.

  Agent Barnes stared at her for a little longer then shouldered his giant gun and sighed.

  “Well, I hope Agent Franken cooks up our cure fast. While you three were gone, we’ve been hit by hostiles from the top ranks. We’ve lost a lot of good agents and mystics today—the Hive won’t survive another big hit. We need to get the borders up soon if we want to live through the night. Every hostile mystic that’s ever had it in for us—well, they’re out there right now, wanting our heads on silver platters.”

  A gust of powerful wind rolled into the main hall. Zoey heard shouts from outside and then a whop whop whop sound like a giant out-of-balance washing machine on the spin cycle.

  “I might be wrong,” said Simon, pointing upwards, “but that sounds like a helicopter.”

  At first everyone just looked at one another. Agent Barnes was the first to bolt, then everyone followed him.

  Ten large gray helicopters hovered above the Hive’s grounds. The words Eurocopter EC 175 were written on their sides. Zoey squinted in the strong winds and wrapped her arms around herself. The winter air was cold, and she had left her warm winter coat with the unconscious Alphas near the wall.

  One by one the helicopters landed and killed their engines.

  “Told you they were helicopters,” said Simon. His words coiled out of his mouth in cold white mist.

  “Yeah, but why are they here?” said Tristan.

  “Beats me. Who can afford ten helicopters? They’re worth, like, twenty five million each. Who’s got that kind of cash lying around?”

  But even before she saw her, Zoey already knew.

  Mrs. Dupont stepped down from one of the helicopters. She wore a white and gray tiger fur coat, a red fur hat, a white pantsuit, and red knee-high boots. Nazar stepped out beside her. His black coat billowed in the winds, and he whispered something in his mistress’ ears. Mrs. Dupont’s eyes widened and she turned to look at Zoey.

  Zoey scowled.

  “Great, it’s Madame Wax,” said Simon, exasperatedly. “I thought we’d be rid of her for a while. How did she find us, anyway?”

  “She knew where I was,” said Zoey. “She’s here for me.”

  Fifteen hybrid Alphas with batwings, large tails and extra limbs and heads stepped out of each helicopter - Mrs. Dupont’s army. Zoey shuddered at the thought that Simon and Tristan could have been turned into one of these horrible, mutilated creatures.

  They formed three rows behind Mrs. Dupont and Nazar, their red uniforms standing out against the whit
e snow. The man with the whip, the bear-man, and Deathray stood on Mrs. Dupont’s right side. A sinister smile spread on Deathray’s face as she looked at the destruction. This was a trip to the fair for her.

  The entire Hive emptied to watch the spectacle of helicopters and the strange newcomers. Director Hicks pushed to the front and was followed quickly by the other directors. Director Johnson had his usual poker face on, but his impeccable suit was torn. Directors Martin and Campbell were both covered in dirt and grime.

  Director Hicks wiped his red and sweaty face with a handkerchief. The front of his plaid jacket was stained in blood. But it didn’t look like his.

  “You’re not our reinforcements? What happened to Director Deveraux and the agents from Montreal?” he inquired, sounding more hesitant than cordial.

  Mrs. Dupont looked as if she was trying to smile, but her face remained contorted.

  “Oh, do you mean those inky flying objects that we passed? Well, they were in our way, so naturally, we destroyed them.”

  Director Hicks paled. “You destroyed two planes full of innocent people?” His expression darkened. “Who are you people?”

  “My name is Mrs. Dupont. And you are—?”

  Director Hicks frowned but didn’t answer her. He stared at Zoey for a moment, then he turned back towards Mrs. Dupont.

  “So, you’re the Mrs. Dupont I’ve heard so much about. I was beginning to think that you were a ghost. It was you who stole the interlopers and released the mystic hostiles into our world.”

  “Yes, I did.” said Mrs. Dupont proudly, “and if it weren’t for Zoey here, who ultimately ruined my plans—I would have succeeded in releasing more than a few monsters.”

  The agents and directors looked at Zoey. At least now they knew that she hadn’t lied when she had told them about Mrs. Dupont.

  “And these Sevenths?” asked Director Hicks, as he looked at the army behind her, “Are they Alphas? I’ve never seen Alphas looking quite like that before. Why are you here? What’s going on? And why are there ten helicopters in our driveway?”

  “I’ll tell you why we’re here, little piggy,” said Mrs. Dupont.

  Deathray started laughing. Director Hicks scowled but didn’t say anything.

  Mrs. Dupont snapped her fingers, and before any of them knew what was happening the Alphas had dashed around them like flashes of red light, and they were surrounded.

  Mrs. Dupont’s cat-like eyes settled on Zoey.

  “I’m here for her,” she said, and pointed. “I want Zoey St. John.”

  Chapter 19

  Making a Trade

  Zoey flinched. All eyes were suddenly on her, and she strained to remain where she stood, even though a part of her wanted to bolt. She could hear whispers. She looked over at the faces of the agents and directors. They were looking at her like she was a common criminal.

  Zoey glared at the cat-faced woman with as much malice as she could. Her own secret would be out soon, and this wasn’t the way she had planned on telling the Agency.

  The lights from the helicopters cast an eerie glow on Mrs. Dupont’s grotesque features.

  “Give her to me willingly and quietly and no harm will come to you. You have my word.”

  Zoey met Director Hick’s gaze, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She held her breath. Would they give her up to save themselves?

  “And if I disagree?” Director Hicks’ face was now purple, and he looked as if her were about to explode.

  Zoey exhaled.

  Mrs. Dupont raised her arms. “Then my family will destroy yours. And it will be an easy massacre. We outnumber you ten to one. I’d say your odds are zero. I’ve already destroyed your precious mirrors and borders with my virus. Yes, that was me. My family is capable of much, much more devastation.”

  Mrs. Dupont looked around confidently.

  “Your Agencies have been meddling in our lives for far too long. It’s time to put a stop to it. Your time is over. The time of the Originals is about to begin. We are going to rule now.”

  Nazar cleared his throat. “Better hand her over if you want to avoid bloodshed, old man. I think it’s a pretty good deal, don’t you? One girl for the lives of all these people. Give us the girl—”

  “Over my dead body.” Agent Barnes pushed to the front of the crowd and stood next to Zoey. He winked at her. She tried to smile back, but her face was frozen stiff.

  Mrs. Dupont removed her gloves. “You are prepared to let all of your fellow agents die for just one girl? How pathetic. You agents have always been overly dramatic and sentimental - another reason why you should be crushed - you’re too weak to rule.”

  She smiled and patted her fur coat as though it were real.

  “You’re the one that’s pathetic, lady.” Agent Barnes cocked his gun. “You come near her, and I’ll blow your head off.”

  He raised his double-barreled gun and pointed it at Mrs. Dupont.

  Deathray slipped in front of Mrs. Dupont, covering her with her body. She raised her hand, and her red globe glowed with fire.

  Agent Barnes laughed softly. “What are you - a circus performer? Get out of the way, lady, or I’ll shoot through you to get to your mistress.”

  Deathray smiled mischievously. Suddenly, a ray of red light shot from the globe. It hit Agent Barnes in the face. He dropped his gun and screamed. Deathray kept the red ray focused on his face, which was contorted with pain. He couldn’t look away.

  “Stop! Please stop! You’re killing him!” screamed Zoey.

  She ran to Agent Barnes and waved her hands frantically in front of his face. She put her hands over his eyes to block the rays, but he kept screaming. Zoey watched his face twist and warp. Tears welled in her eyes. Agent Barnes was going to die just like that man back at headquarters. She looked at Agent Lee for help, but there was nothing he could do.

  “Enough!” bellowed Director Hicks. “That’s enough.”

  Mrs. Dupont squeezed Deathray’s shoulder.

  “You can stop now, you’ve had your fun,” she said lazily.

  Deathray lowered her hand, the ray of red light vanished, and the connection was lost.

  Agent Barnes fell to his knees, sobbing. He rolled into a ball on the ground, and Zoey held one of his hands in hers. She could scarcely see through her tears.

  Zoey got to her feet slowly. She trembled in absolute anger. The man she almost considered to be her father had nearly died.

  She glowered at Deathray. She hoped the psychotic woman could read her mind. She was going to pay for what she’d done.

  Director Hicks wiped his face with his handkerchief and looked from Zoey to Agent Barnes. He turned his attention back to the cat-faced woman.

  “Please, we have lost many lives today. I don’t want to lose anymore,” he sounded tired.

  “Why is Zoey so important to you? She’s just a child. Has she done something to you? Is this why you are here?”

  “My reasons are my own,” answered Mrs. Dupont with a dry smile. “It’s simple. Give her to me, and you live. Don’t - and you all die. It makes no difference to me, really.”

  Directors Campbell and Martin exchanged dark looks. Then Director Martin moved towards Director Hicks and spoke to him. They turned and looked at her.

  For a horrible moment, she thought they were going to give her to the Alphas. A warm hand wrapped around hers. She and Tristan didn’t need to share words - she knew what he was thinking. She squeezed his hand back.

  “I’m getting real tired of waiting,” said Mrs. Dupont, sounding bored. “I haven’t come all this way in my favorite outfit for nothing. I’m giving you twenty seconds to decide. Zoey,” she pointed a thin finger, “…or we will kill every last one of you. You choose.”

  Director Hicks was sweating profusely. “This is a very serious matter; we need time to discuss it. We won’t give you one of our own without knowing all the facts.”

  “She’s not one of our own,” interjected Director Campbell. She looked at Zoey con
temptuously. “She’s a Drifter. We hardly even know her. How do we even know she’s not working with them right now? They’ve just told us that they poisoned our mirrors.”

  Her dark eyes settled on Zoey. “And by the looks of it, she helped them. They’re in this together. This is a trap—she is one of them!”

  Zoey lost her voice in her throat for a moment, and then she found it.

  “No, I’m not. I didn’t poison the mirrors. I would never do something like that. I’m not with them.”

  She glared at Director Campbell. She knew the woman had never liked her, but she had no idea that she hated her so much.

  “She’s a liar,” spat Director Martin. He turned towards Director Hicks. “She’s not worth all our lives. This woman is right. There are too many of them. We wouldn’t survive another fight. I say we give her to them.”

  Zoey heard mutters of agreement amongst some of the other agents. A terrible feeling stirred in the pit of her stomach.

  “Martin, you’re a coward.” Agent Lee aimed his gun right in Director Martin’s face.

  “I hate cowards.”

  Director Martin stepped back, trembling. “How dare you point your gun at me? I’m a Director!”

  Agent Lee shrugged. “And I’m directing my gun in your face.”

  “Enough!” Director Hicks pushed Agent Lee’s gun from Director Martin’s face. “There must be a way to settle things without any bloodshed.”

  “Yes, and that’s by handing over the girl,” said Director Martin. “Don’t be a fool, Hicks.” He gestured to Zoey, “Her—for all of us.”

  Director Hicks hesitated, and Zoey’s face slackened.

  “Just a second,” said Tristan, loudly. “Zoey just risked her life to steal the cure from this freak show.” He looked at Mrs. Dupont. “You all should be thanking Zoey, not feeding her to the wolves.”

  “Thank her?” laughed Director Martin, “She just led them straight to us. She’s with them!”

  “I’m not,” said Zoey, but her voice was drowned in the angry shouts from the crowd. “I’m not!”

  Director Hicks’ red face had turned to a sickly green. He looked as though he had made his decision. Just as he started to speak, Agent Barnes grabbed his ankle.

 

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