Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (24 page)

“We need to get out of here and find Agent Barnes,” she said
quickly.

“There’s no way we can fight them all—and there’s a
Daragon
on our trail back in the corridors somewhere.”

Tristan looked at her. “This place is huge. It’ll take forever to
search it. Do we even know where we’re going?”

“No, but we don’t have a choice, do we?” said Zoey.

The Alphas had already walked halfway across the auditorium and were
closing in on their hiding place.

“They’re coming, and they’re going to kill us when they get here. We
should double back. I saw some stairs near the entrance to the auditorium—so there’s
another level—maybe Agent Barnes is there. We have to check it out.”

“Anywhere is better than here,” said Simon peering through a gap in
the chairs. “If we want to make a move, we better go now.”

With a last look at the marching Alphas, they jumped up and sprinted
back towards the exit. Bullets whizzed passed them and peppered the walls above
them. They ducked and kept running. The corridor narrowed, and they made for
the stairs.

They had almost made it when the
Daragon
smashed through the wall in front of them.

They leaped out of the way as the beast hurled its giant battle-axe.
With a
whoosh
like a scythe through a
field of wheat, the blade spun over Zoey’s head. She fell to the ground amid a
shower of splinters and plaster rubble. She scrambled up to her feet with a
mouth full of dust and a searing pain in her shoulder.

“Zoey? Why are you over there?” cried Simon, as he backed away
slowly from the giant beast.

“Me?” Zoey coughed through the dust. “Why are you guys over there? I
just jumped.”

 
Tristan and Simon were on one
side of the
Daragon
, and she was on the other. She
blinked through the dust and saw the stairs up ahead.

The
Daragon
wailed, turning its head from
side to side to keep them all in sight. Its tail lashed out eagerly behind it,
and yellow drool dripped from the corners of its mouth. It swiveled its axe
playfully, taunting them. It seemed to want to slice them up rather than burn
them this time. It was enjoying their distress.

Zoey couldn’t think of anything clever to do without sacrificing
herself. How could she help Agent Barnes and the agency if she were dead?

Tristan seemed to read her thoughts.

“Go! Go look for Agent Barnes while we distract the
Daragon
,” he said.

“What? No!” cried Zoey. “I’m not leaving you guys. Forget it.”

“Yes, you are,” pressed Tristan.

He armed his slingshot. “You don’t have a choice, Zoey. You’re the
closest one to the stairs. Don’t worry—we’ve got this—Simon and I will take it
on.”

Zoey’s voice wavered.

“But I can’t—I’m not going anywhere without you guys.” Their eyes
locked.

But she knew Tristan was right—she had a chance to escape and get
help. She
had
to take it.

The
Daragon
, cold and calculating, watched
Zoey for a moment and then switched its attention on Simon. But as if it knew
where the real threat lay, it turned finally to Tristan. It was sizing him up
for something, and Zoey thought she could see an ugly smile forming on its
face.

“It wants to fight me,” said Tristan calmly. “
Daragon’s
love to fight a worthy opponent, and I guess I’m it.”

“What? But why?” said Zoey, “Why you and not us? Tristan, please,
don’t do anything heroic—it’s not worth it.”

“I
have
to do this. It’s
our only chance,” said Tristan.

“Right now, I’m its biggest threat. I’m stronger than the two of
you, so it sees me as a worthy challenge.
Daragon’s
are very arrogant—it wants to prove to itself that it’s stronger than me.”

“It
is
stronger,” said
Zoey. “I know what you’re doing. Stop trying to be brave and think. This is
crazy. It throws fire—remember? Tristan, don’t do this.”

“I have to. Go, Zoey—don’t worry—we’ll be right behind you.”

Zoey blinked the dust from her eyes. “Promise?”

Tristan smiled. “Promise.”

She looked at Simon, who blanched and was turning green. “Simon?”

“It’ll be all right, Zoey, go,” his voice cracked. “I’m sure Tristan
knows what he’s doing—I hope.”

“Zoey, GO!” urged Tristan as he armed his slingshot. “Quickly before
it changes its mind and decides to go after you.”

Tristan stepped forward as though he had acknowledged the mystic’s
challenge.

The
Daragon
grunted its acceptance of a
worthy opponent. It raised its head proudly and flexed its bulging muscles.

Zoey pulled herself away from her friends and ran for the staircase.
She took the stairs two at a time without stopping to look back. Tristan would
be okay—they would both be okay—they
had
to be.

She burst through the exit and onto the next floor, sprinting like
death itself was at her heals, but something caught her foot, and she went
sprawling.

Her breath had been knocked out of her like. She wheezed to catch
her breath and searched frantically for what had tripped her. She had fallen
over a bloody body that lay in the middle of the corridor. There was nothing
she could do for it now. She scrambled to her feet, and started to run again.

“ZOEY!”

Zoey halted. She knew that voice. She turned, and her knees weakened
when she realized that the body was not dead.

“Agent Barnes!” She kneeled beside him. “Agent Stokes is the
traitor! I figured it out! I recognized his voice—he’s going to try to get the
interloper. He’s going to use it against us!”

Agent Barnes was bleeding from his nose and from a gaping wound in his
stomach.

“Oh my God, I thought you were a dead body.” Zoey pressed on his
wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Her eyes burned.

“Zoey, listen to me,” croaked Agent Barnes through his pain. “You’re
right about Agent Stokes. He did this to me.”

He paused for a moment. “He took me by surprise and grabbed the
interloper. I couldn’t stop him. But you—you need to stop him.”

“Me? But how?” she stammered. “I’m not an agent.”

“Zoey, listen to me carefully. You
must
destroy the interloper.”

His face was pale. “Before it’s too late.”

Zoey swallowed. Her stomach twisted, but she knew she
had
to try.

“How? How do I destroy it?”

“I don’t know—maybe fire? Do whatever it takes to stop them from
opening up the portal.”

Agent Barnes started coughing. Blood covered his lips when he spoke.

“Agent Stokes is stupid—he thinks he’s doing the right thing—but
he’s being used. He’s just too stupid to realize it. You need to stop him
before he gives the interloper to the Alphas. Once they open it, it’ll be too
late for everyone. You
must
stop him,
Zoey. You must.”

“Okay, I’ll give it my best shot,” She hoped she sounded confident.

She looked at Agent Barnes. “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be back
with help. I’m going to fetch Tristan and Simon.”

She got up, but Agent Barnes grabbed her wrist with more strength
than she thought he still possessed.

“There’s no time. Go now. Forget about me—I’ll be ok,” he urged.
“The interloper is more important than my life. The fate of this world depends
on you destroying it. Everything else is secondary, even me. You must
understand. Now, go.”

Zoey looked around helplessly, “Where?”

“They’re on the roof. Go back and take the stairs. Go—go now!”

Zoey wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand. She
didn’t want Agent Barnes to die. With a final look at him, she ran back towards
the stairs and headed for the roof.

She drew strength from her anger—Agent Stokes was going to pay. She
was going to
make
him pay.

She pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. The sky was a
deep blue, and an orange sun was setting in the west. A cool breeze caressed
her hot face. London’s lights glowed like jewels around her. It was beautiful.

The rooftop was a giant rectangle. The buzz of the air exhaust vents
from the building’s air conditioning system masked her footsteps. She hid
behind an air conditioning box and peered around it. Her heart skipped a beat.

A skeletally thin woman in a black, tailored suit stood in the center
of the rooftop. She wore a floppy, wide-brimmed, red-feathered hat, like those
Zoey had seen on women from the costume shops. The woman’s face was just as
distorted and stretched as she remembered it. It was Mrs.
Dupont
.
She held something in her hands and was admiring it lovingly. Was it the
interloper?

A man was with her—the same man that had locked Zoey and her friends
in the basement and had killed Mrs. Andrews and the old man.

Zoey shrank back behind the air conditioning unit. The man was huge
and strong, and he had a gun. If she got a little closer, she could hit him in
the head with her boomerang. But even if she were lucky enough to get rid of him
somehow—there was still the creepy Mrs.
Dupont
. Zoey
suspected she might be a
mysterian
herself—she looked
part mystic—maybe even part
Daragon
. Was she super
powerful like Tristan?

It all seemed impossible. She hoped Tristan and Simon were having
better luck than she was. She held her breath and crept over to the next air
conditioning box. Mrs.
Dupont
and the man hadn’t
moved, but she was still too far away for a clear shot. She ducked down and moved
closer as silently as she could. She was close enough to hear the murmurs of
their voice. She was close enough to take a shot. She gripped her boomerang
firmly and aimed.

But something hit her on the back.

Zoey fell to her knees and dropped her boomerang.

Whoever had hit her, hit her again. She felt her ribcage split apart
with the force of the blow, and she rolled over on the ground in agonizing pain.

“So, you’re the one who’s been snooping around,” said an angry voice.

Blinking through her tears, she looked up.

Agent Stokes hissed at her. “The
Drifter—
you
tried to ruin my plans before, and you made me look stupid and disloyal in
front of my mistress.”

“You look stupid all by yourself,” spat Zoey.

He backhanded her across the face, and she tasted blood in her
mouth.

Zoey glared at him, wanting nothing more than to avenge Agent
Barnes.

“Well, you didn’t succeed,” he sneered, “and now I’m going to kill
you.”

Z
oey screamed as Agent Stokes
dragged her across the roof by her hair. Her eyes watered, and the world was a
blur. He hurled her to the ground and kicked her in the stomach again.

“You tried to ruin my plans, you little brat, but you didn’t succeed.
How could you? You’re nothing but a foolish little girl with a death sentence.”

“I’m not a little girl,” growled Zoey—where were Agent Barnes,
Tristan, Simon? The pain in her broken ribs was unbearable when she sobbed. She
tried to control her breathing.

“Oh, but you are, and a very stupid one at that. Did you really think
that you could come here and stop
me
?
I killed your beloved Agent Barnes, and you’re going to wish you were dead before
I’m finished with you. First, I’m going to rip it out your tongue—”

“Enough!” commanded a woman’s voice.

Zoey peered up at Mrs.
Dupont
. She cradled
a metal cube in her hands. It had rows of smaller cubes on each face, but
instead of colors, like a Rubik’s cube, the little cubes had geometric symbols on
their surfaces. The interloper.

“You’ve had your fun, Sylvester, now let her go.”

Mrs.
Dupont
looked down at Zoey. “I need
her alive to answer some questions first.”

“Mrs.
Dupont
, you don’t understand,” began
Agent Stokes. “She’s the one that almost ruined everything! Let me kill her!
Please!”

He pulled out a knife and grabbed Zoey by the hair. He yanked her
head back painfully, and she could feel the cool blade sharp against her throat.
She held her breath.

Mrs.
Dupont
walked casually towards her.
“Not yet. I have a few questions that need answering. You can kill her after. I
promise. Let her go, Sylvester—don’t make me ask you again.”

She smiled at Zoey, and her face twisted grotesquely—as though some
of the muscles in her face moved, while others did not.

Agent Stokes released his hold on Zoey’s hair and pushed her to the
ground. “You’re dead, Drifter.
Dead
.”

But then the man with the gun and the white eye moved closer and glowered
at Zoey.

“I locked you in with the monsters—you should be dead—or better yet,
torn to shreds. How did you escape?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” answered Zoey. She matched his scowl.

“Thank you,
Nazar
,” said Mrs.
Dupont
, and she waved him aside. “I’ll take it from here.”

Nazar
stepped back
slowly. His milky white eye was locked on Zoey, and she shuddered
involuntarily.

Mrs.
Dupont
turned her cat-like eyes to Zoey
and examined her more closely.

“So you’re the Drifter,” she said finally.

“How remarkable. I’m very impressed. You are exceptionally
resourceful for someone so young. Not even an agent has been lucky enough to get
as close to me as you stand now—and yet here
you
are—just a girl. But you’re not just a girl, are you? There is
something unique about you—am I right? Yes, of course I am. Tell me, what’s
your name?”

Zoey spit out some blood. “Zoey.”

“Zoey,” echoed Mrs.
Dupont
. “You’re a very
brave girl, Zoey. You’re the one who eavesdropped on my conversation with
Sylvester back in the hall. I remember you well. I never forget a face. Tell
me, how did you
find
us then? Did
someone tell you where to find us?”

Zoey shrugged. “No. I don’t know. Someone pushed me when I was using
my DSM, and I just appeared there. I don’t know really know how I did it. I
just did.”

“Very interesting.” Mrs.
Dupont
looked as
though she was trying to frown, but her brow only twitched awkwardly.

“Tell me, Zoey, what were you
thinking
—right
before you used your precious mirror device?”

“I don’t know—to get back to the hive?”

Zoey started to feel uncomfortable under the unnerving stare of Mrs.
Dupont’s
cat-like eyes. It was almost as though she
knew something else—something about her.

“Is it possible you were thinking about the stolen
interloper
?” Mrs.
Dupont
inquired. She sounded excited, and her feline features twisted in a grotesque smile.

Zoey’s hair rose up on the back of her neck. She remembered. She
had
thought of the interloper right
before Stuart had pushed her. She had wondered if the interloper looked like
their DSM’s, if it had mirrors. How did Mrs.
Dupont
know what she had been thinking?

“By the look on your face, I gather that you did.” Mrs.
Dupont’s
face twitched.

“I’ll tell you what happened, my dear girl. You
thought
of the interloper, and then you mirror-ported yourself to
the anchor that was nearest to it.”

Zoey tensed. “I don’t understand.”

“No—you wouldn’t—but
I
do.”

The way Mrs.
Dupont
was staring at Zoey
made her very uncomfortable. It was almost like Zoey was a prize that Mrs.
Dupont
had been waiting for, for a very long time.

Mrs.
Dupont’s
eyes shone excitedly. “Tell
me Zoey, where are you from? What are your parents’ names?”

Something clicked inside her, and Zoey decided to stop playing nice.
Nothing good could come of telling her the truth. The more information she gave
this woman, the more danger would come to her.

“Bill and Marge St. John,” she lied, putting on her best poker face.

Mrs.
Dupont
and
Nazar
shared a look, and then she looked back at Zoey. “Really? How interesting.”

Mrs.
Dupont
was quiet for a moment, but
she looked excited.

“That red hair you have—it’s almost like it’s on fire, isn’t’ it? It’s
very beautiful and very
rare
. I’ve only
seen it once before, a long time ago—on a woman—and her name wasn’t Marge St.
John.”

She focused on Zoey more intently. “You made up those names, didn’t
you? Don’t lie to me, girl. Tell me who they are. What’s the harm in knowing someone’s
name? You can tell me.”

Zoey’s insides twisted. What did Mrs.
Dupont
know about her already—about her past—about her mother?

“Those are their names,” Zoey lied again. “Mom and dad St. John—I
think they’re swell names, don’t you? And why do you care, anyway? What do my
parents have to do with any of this?”

“Plenty,” said Mrs.
Dupont
. Her voice was sharp,
and all the traces of false gentleness were gone.

“I know you’re lying, I can always tell when someone is lying. You
might call it a gift. I can see the lies and fear in your eyes. I see it all. I
can even see your desperation to keep your mother safe. But you can’t.”

Zoey’s heart thumped wildly.

Suddenly, Mrs.
Dupont’s
face warped grotesquely
in anger. She reached out and wrenched Zoey’s right arm painfully.

“Where
is
your mother?
Where is Elizabeth?” she roared. Her spit flew in Zoey’s face.

Zoey cried out, “I don’t know who you’re talking about? I don’t know
anyone called Elizabeth. I swear.”

“LIAR!” Mrs.
Dupont
twisted Zoey’s arm so forcefully
that Zoey heard a horrible snap.

Zoey sunk to the ground, her head spinning from the searing pain.
She blinked the black spots and tears from her eyes. Her arm lay limp by her
side, and panic rose like a cold mist in her mind. She shuddered. She tried to
stand, but just moving her leg made her cry out. She was too weak to fight
back.

She knew that after Mrs.
Dupont
had gotten
the information she wanted, they would kill her. That she knew for certain.

She inhaled shaky breaths and tried to calm herself. They could kill
her, but they couldn’t harm her mother if they didn’t know where she was—she
took comfort in that.

Mrs.
Dupont
leaned over Zoey. Her face was
flushed and clammy, like a store mannequin whose face had melted from the heat of
overhead lights.

“Fortunately for you,” she said, spraying Zoey’s face with more
disgusting, warm spit, “I don’t have time for this now. But rest assured, I
will
deal
with you later. I will get
some answers out of you—even if I have to cut your pretty little fingers off
one by one—you
will
tell me where
she’s hiding eventually. I can promise you that.”

Zoey cradled her injured arm. “And I promise I
won’t
tell you anything.”

Zoey could see the interloper clearly now. She was so close that she
could reach out and touch it.

Mrs.
Dupont
caught her looking at the
interloper, and a smile contorted her face again.

“You’d like this, wouldn’t you?”

Zoey didn’t answer, so Mrs.
Dupont
continued.

“Do you know what this is?”

She held the interloper for Zoey to see.

“This is the interloper you’ve been
thinking
about— the answer—the way to restore the balance between the
worlds to what it was in the time of the Originals. The world of beasts and
monsters shouldn’t mix with ours. It dishonors the Originals. We are the
superior race, and we should
rule
the
beasts, not coexist with them.”

“The balance is shifting in the Nexus, Zoey. A powerful demon
warlord is poised to invade our dimension with his savage army. He is at war in
his own world and angry that the agents drove him out from this world centuries
ago. So, we made a deal. We’ll open the portal to our world to let his army in—and
he’ll get rid of the agency for us. He will come with a vengeance, and every
last agent will die. Then the Alpha Nation, the true followers of the Originals,
will rise and rule this world.”

“It won’t work,” said Zoey, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in
her arm. “They’ll stop you.”

Even though her throwing arm was broken, Zoey wished she still had
her boomerang.

Mrs.
Dupont
laughed.

“Who? Who will stop me, my dear girl—the agency? Ha! Look around you,
Zoey—the agency has fallen. The mystics you love so much will destroy the rest
of you tonight. There is no one here to help you. The Alphas killed them all.
You’re all that’s left.”

Zoey remembered the bodies she had seen in the auditorium, and she felt
sick. She knew that whatever Mrs.
Dupont
was planning
was going to be a million times worse. Hot rage boiled inside her. The cat-face
woman had to be stopped. But how?

“Sylvester,” said
Mrs.
Dupont
, “Give me the other interloper. It’s
time.”

She held out her
hand, and Agent Stokes pulled the other interloper from the folds of his jacket.
Much to his disappointment, she gave it to
Nazar
.

“Why does
he
get to use it?” said Agent Stokes,
outraged. “
I’m
the one who took it
from Agent Barnes. I’m the one who went through all the trouble to get it! I’m
the one who got you the codes to break into the agency’s headquarters. I nearly
got caught! He didn’t
do
anything!”

Nazar
caressed the
interloper. “Stop your winning, Sylvester.”

He gave Agent
Stokes a self-satisfying grin. “Did you really think Mrs.
Dupont
would let
you
work it? You—a common,
good for nothing agent—a man as incompetent as a monkey? I think not.”

“But…” Agent
Stokes was lost for words. “—I don’t understand. I let you in to the Boston hive.
I was the one who got you past security. I risked my neck getting those codes!”

“And we thank you
for all your help,
Agent
.” Something
gray flashed from the folds of
Nazar’s
coat, and in an
instant he stabbed Agent Stokes in the chest. Agent Stokes opened his mouth, choking
on his blood, and then slumped to the ground.

Nazar
smiled wickedly
at the horror on Zoey’s face. She bit her tongue and said nothing.

“Let us begin,”
said Mrs.
Dupont
.

She guided
Nazar
to the edge of the roof. They stood side by side like
a bride and groom holding the metal cubes like flower bouquets.

Mrs.
Dupont
turned towards Zoey. Her cat-like features were amplified
disturbingly in the growing darkness. “It’s not every day you get to witness a
portal this size. You are a very lucky girl, Zoey St. John.”

“I don’t feel very
lucky,” answered Zoey shortly. Her arm throbbed painfully.

Mrs.
Dupont
laughed. “Oh, but you are lucky—
very
lucky—lucky that I’ve finally
found
you.”

“What? What is
that supposed to mean? We’ve never even met before?” Zoey hated the triumphant
look in her crazy cat’s eyes. What was it that she knew?

Mrs.
Dupont
smiled at Zoey’s distress.

“I’ve been
searching for you for fourteen years. Elizabeth thought she could hide you from
me, but she was wrong—and now I’ve found you.”

The puzzle of Zoey’s
life started to make sense. Her mother
hadn’t
abandoned her—she had hidden her away in the orphanage to save her from this
woman and the Alpha Nation. But why was she so important—what did Mrs.
Dupont
want with her? And if Elizabeth Steele was her
mother, then who was her father?

Mrs.
Dupont
nodded to
Nazar
, and together
they pressed down on the interlopers with their thumbs. The cubes began to glow
with a brilliant white light.