Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (26 page)

Most of Stuart’s gang stepped away slowly, trying not to make any
sudden moves. They were frightened, and Zoey was pleased to see that Claudia’s
beautiful face had become an unattractive mask of fear. It suited her.

A four-foot-tall man with a green top hat and orange, braided hair slowly
dismounted his motorcycle. His long, green leather coat billowed around him like
a cape as he stepped between Zoey and Stuart. His yellow teeth flashed as she
he smiled at Zoey.

“Hi, Zoey. It’s been too long since last we met.”

“Hi, Rusty,” said Zoey. Her smile widened when she saw the shock on Stuart’s
face. “It has been way too long. I missed you guys.”

Rusty McFearsome’s eyed the bracelet in Stuart’s hand.

“So you’re the thief, eh?” he said, glowering deeply. “No one
steals
from the leprechaun gang and gets
away with it. BOYS!”

The eleven other leprechauns leapt off their bikes and flexed their
muscles dangerously. They looked ready for a fight.

Stuart backed away slowly. “I’m not a thief!”

Rusty raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a liar?” His voice rose
ferociously.

“No—but—but
I
didn’t take
it.”

“What’s that you got there in your hands, then? That’s
my
bracelet, that is. It went missing
this morning, and my spies told me that I’d find it here—along with the thief
that stole it.”

Stuart looked at Zoey as he slowly realized that he’d been trapped
He pointed his finger at her.

“You! You did this to me! You set this up!”

Zoey shrugged and looked innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

“
She’s
the one who stole
it, not me!” cried Stuart. “She’s trying to frame me, to get back at me!”

“Never seen our king look so scared before,” whispered Simon so that
only Zoey and Tristan could hear. “This is like an early Christmas present.
Thank you, Santa.”

“I’m telling you. I didn’t steal it—
she
did.” Stuart pointed to Zoey. A cold sweat broke on his face.
“I just took it from her to report that she stole it.”

“Do you hear that, boys?” said Rusty. “He’s trying to put the blame
on a girl to save his own skin. If that’s not cowardly, I don’t know what is.”

“This is ridiculous,” spat Stuart, “I’m going to get Agent Ward.”

He started forward, but a bald and heavily scarred leprechaun with a
serial-killer look stood in his way. He crossed his arms over his wide muscled
chest and shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” said Warty O’Wicked. “Not if you know what’s
good for ya.”

Rusty cracked his fingers. “You know what we do to those who steal
from us?” he asked.

He smiled. “We put them in the
Cage
.”

“The what? What are you talking about?”

Stuart was suddenly surrounded by eleven leprechauns. “Stop this at
once! What do you think you’re doing? Get out of my way!”

A leprechaun with a green Mohawk waved a large club at him. “Move,
and I’ll pound ya, pretty boy,” said Crusher O’Looney.

Stuart looked around in a terror. The tiny men with tattoos and
piercings and big ugly weapons had him cornered. He looked at Zoey, and for a
moment she thought she saw a silent plea for help in them. But when she didn’t
respond, he lowered his eyes and coldness returned to his voice.

“I hate you,” he growled.

“Well, at least we have one thing in common,” Zoey answered, just as
coldly.

Rusty took the bracelet from Stuart. “I’ll take that now.”

The leprechauns bound his hands and feet, and Stuart’s panic turned
to rage.

“Don’t do this,” hissed Stuart, his face twisted. “Zoey, tell them! Tell
them we were just playing around. Tell them that this is just you’re idea of a
joke!”

Zoey smiled calmly. “Yes, this
is
a joke. Jokes on you, King.”

“NO!” He bucked wildly as Warty heaved him onto his ride.

“HELP! Someone help me! HELP! HEL—”

Crusher stuffed a cloth in Stuart’s mouth. “Man, the gab on that
one. We’re going to have
so
much fun with
him. Thanks, Zoey.”

Zoey smiled at the leprechauns. “No, it’s me who should thank you.”

She looked over at Stuart and lowered her voice. “You’re not
actually going to
hurt
him, are you?”

Rusty winked at her. “Of course not, we are
civilized
leprechauns, after all.” He clapped his hands together.
“All right, boys. Ride on out!”

Crusher dropped his club and spread his arms wide. “Come and give us
a hug.”

She laughed and embraced the leprechaun. She felt someone hug her
from behind and looked down to see Warty, his eyes filled with tears.

“Will you come visit us?” said Warty, his voice wavering. “We miss
you, you know. You remind us so much of your mother.”

He let Zoey go and blew his nose noisily into a handkerchief.

“I will,” she said. “Promise.”

Crusher wiped his eyes on his arms and both he and Warty made their
way back to their bikes.

“See you, Zoey.”

Their engines roared into life, and the leprechaun gang disappeared
back into the forest, with Stuart draped over a seat, and Claudia chasing them
and screaming like a banshee.

“Got to get this on film!” Simon ran after the motorcycle gang with
his cell phone.

 
Zoey smiled. Payback was awesome.

“Where are you going now?” asked Tristan after a moment of silence.

Zoey sighed heavily. “Management’s expecting me.”

Tristan looked back towards the forest. “I’ll go after Simon to make
sure he’s not going to do anything too stupid. I’ll see you later then.”

“If I’m still here,” said Zoey sounding a little deflated. She
turned around and started back towards the hive, then halted.

“Tristan?” she called.

“Yeah?” he said as he turned around.

“Can I ask you something? I mean, if it’s not too personal?” Her
cheeks burned and she wanted to kick herself for blushing so easily.

“Sure.”

“What part mystic are you?” She waited, her heart in her throat.

The fact that he didn’t answer right away made her feel like a fool.
“Sorry,” she blurted out suddenly, “I’m an idiot—none of my business—forget I
said anything.”

Tristan smiled. “It took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you
to ask me.”

He paused for a second and then answered. “My mother is a Seventh,
but my father’s an
álfar
—he
would look like mountain elf to you, I guess—with blue skin.”

Zoey didn’t know much about elves except for what she had read. Tristan’s
ears weren’t pointy, but it would explain his high cheekbones and the blue halo
and veins.

“They met while my mother was on an assignment for the agency near
the Apennines in Switzerland,” he continued. “They fell in love, and the rest
is history.”

Zoey bit her bottom lip. “So how does your mystic side work? Your
skin glowed blue and you had these veins all over your arms—how do you control
it?”

“Well, I’m just as human as I am mystic. Both are part of who I am. Most
of the time I’m the me you see before you,” answered Tristan.

“Like my father, the mountain elves have a super strength. It’s a
kind of adrenaline that pumps into my veins that gives me the strength of three
men. It’s dormant until I need it.”

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“Yeah, I have a little sister. She’s eight.”

“Can she do the things that you can?”

“You mean, is she strong?”

“Yeah.”

Tristan laughed softly. “Yes, she’s like me. She’s a lot to handle
at the moment though, I feel bad for my mom.”

Zoey looked to the ground. “I envy you. Your family sounds amazing.
I wish I had a family.”

Tristan took Zoey’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “You do now.
The agency is your family.”

Zoey looked into Tristan’s dark eyes, and blood rose to her cheeks. She
quickly looked away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She pulled her hand away.

Z
oey climbed up to the third
floor and stopped in front of the door with the inscription “Mystic Laws and
Regulations, room 3B
.
” From what
Agent Barnes had told her that morning, management wanted a full report. She
wasn’t sure what they were going to do with her. She felt a little nervous
because the hive had become her home, and she didn’t want to leave. She had
prepared a speech when she’d been lying in bed, but now she couldn’t even
remember how it started.

Letting out a shaky breath, she reached out and knocked three times.

“Come in,” said a voice.

Zoey pushed in.

The directors were seated on one side of the large table. Agents
Barnes, Ward, and Vargas sat across from them.

Director Hicks smiled as Zoey closed the door behind her. “Please
take a seat, Zoey.”

Agent Barnes lifted his crutches to make room for Zoey at the empty
seat beside him. He didn’t look at her.

“Your timing is perfect,” said Director Hicks. “Were we just about
to discuss the events following your encounter with Agent Barnes when he had
been injured at headquarters. But I’d like to go back first. I’d like to know
how you spotted Agent Stokes as the traitor. Please tell us what happened after
you saw him at the Wander Inn, and what led you and your friends to take that dangerous
trip to London.”

Zoey folded her hands in her lap and recounted her story. She told
them how Nazar had locked them in the basement, but she left out the part about
the fire stallion she had freed. She explained how they had made the jump to
London and had arrived in the middle of a full battle against the Alpha Nation.
She told them how she had found Agent Barnes, and then finally, how with the
help of Tristan and Simon she had destroyed the two interlopers. When she was
done she sat back and waited.

“So you believe that the people in red uniforms were with the Alpha
Nation?” inquired Director Hicks.

Zoey frowned. “Of course—who else could they be? They
are
the Alpha Nation—and they were
following the orders of Mrs. Dupont.”

“Right, the cat-faced woman of your previous stories,” interjected
Director Campbell.

“They’re
not
stories,”
said Zoey, her temper rising.

“No, of course they’re not,” said Director Hicks. He gave Director
Campbell a stern look.

“I believe that
you
believe what you saw was the Alpha Nation—of that I am positive. But you see,
Zoey, we’re not entirely sure that what you
saw
was indeed the Alpha Nation. Perhaps these murders were committed by another
terrorist group, one led by Agent Stokes, a very deranged individual—”

“No,” blurted Zoey. “No, you’re wrong. It was the Alphas, I’m
telling you.”

Director Hicks gave Zoey a kind smile. “But we don’t have any proof.
No one saw these individuals but you. Frankly, what makes it so hard for us to
believe that those responsible for this terrorist attack were the Alphas is
because we don’t accept that they would be part of a scheme to let mystics into
our world. They have been opposed to the idea of mystics coexisting with us for
centuries. I’m afraid it’s quite impossible that those you saw were the Alphas.”

 
“Without any evidence,” interjected
Director Martin, “we cannot take the word of a girl that the people she
thinks
she saw were actually Alphas. You
told us you saw a group of persons dressed in red.”

Zoey lowered her eyes. “Yes.”

“You saw them kill our fellow agents, but where is the proof that they
were actually Alphas? There isn’t any. We couldn’t question any of them,
because there was no one
to
question.
There were no bodies to be found, and no captives. The only real evidence is the
remains of the interlopers and the body of Agent Stokes. That is all the
evidence we have. That is what we must take into account. The facts. The proof.”

“But, I’m telling you, I saw—” The rest of Zoey’s sentence drowned
in her throat because the look on Agent Barnes face said,
stop it
.

Zoey stared at her hands in her lap. She was angry they didn’t
believe her, but she was afraid that her attitude might jeopardize her chance
to stay in the hive. She pressed her trembling lips together.

“Don’t look so distraught, my dear girl,” said Director Hicks. He
had a great smile on his face. “You have done a great service to the agency.
You and your friends have shown enormous courage for ones so young. We are
greatly impressed by your skills and cleverness. Your true devotion to the agency
will not be forgotten. We are very grateful for all that you’ve done and
sacrificed for the sake of all of us.”

Zoey felt a tightness in her chest—something was off. She remembered
how the administration in the orphanage would complement her, right before they
told her that her adoptive parents didn’t want her anymore—reverse psychology. Were
they doing the same now—preparing her gently for the fall? She didn’t want to
leave the program.

“Rest assured, my dear,” said Director Hicks, “we will be
investigating these attacks further. And I promise you—we will discover the
culprits behind this. Thank you for your time, Zoey.”

His voice was kind. “You may go now.”

Numb, Zoey got up and walked to the door. She didn’t say good-bye
because she was afraid she would start crying. With trembling fingers she
pushed open the door and closed it behind her. She shuffled down the corridor,
feeling like her life was over. Would she ever see Tristan and Simon again?

“Zoey!”

Zoey halted and turned.

“I was calling you?” said Agent Barnes hobbling behind her on his
crutches. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Since she couldn’t trust herself to speak she only shook her head.

Agent Barnes gave her a kind smile. “Don’t look so upset. They
didn’t believe me either when I told them what you told me. And since we don’t
have proof
yet,
we have to be
satisfied that what you’ve told them is on record. That’s a start. We can find the
proof later.

“But for now, there are more important things that require our attention.
Those mystics that crossed over need to be found and sent back to the Nexus. From
what I’ve gathered so far, they’re the worst hostiles you can imagine—a demon
lord and his cavalry—we’ll have a lot to catch up on.”

Zoey’s mouth fell open.

“What? You mean I’m back in the program? I’m an operative again?”

Agent Barnes smiled. “Of course you are. You’re probably one of the
best operatives the agency has seen in years.”

He pulled out a file from the inside of his jacket and handed it to
her.

Zoey smiled and opened it. Her mother’s picture was exactly how she
remembered it.

“Thank you for giving it back to me, and for keeping it secret.”

Agent Barnes hesitated for a moment. “I know you still have lots of
questions about your mother—and your
father.
But at least for now you have a
location
to start looking.”

He tapped the top of the file with his finger.

“See you later, Little Red.”

Zoey watched him hop away on his crutches until he disappeared
around the corner.

She looked down at the file and grinned.

“New York City,” she whispered. “Here I come.”