Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (4 page)

Grand double glass doors stood at the entrance, like the gateway to
some other world. She could see shapes moving inside, and her stomach did a
summersault. The ground began to waver, and when she realized she was holding
her breath, she exhaled and did her best to breathe normally, even though she
could feel a panic attack on its way. She couldn’t decide it if was from the
excitement or the fear in the back of her mind. This was still new territory.
Agent Barnes was nice enough, but he was a stranger. This whole thing could
still be a trap.

Agent Barnes drew himself up proudly and said with a smile, “Welcome
to the hive number 416, the best darn place on earth, if you ask me. It is the
only place where mystics and humans work together…and don’t
kill
one another.” He tapped his gun,
and Zoey could see a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Come along, Red. They’re waiting for us. Be prepared to be amazed.”
He strolled up to the front entrance with a hop in his step and held the doors
open.

Bracing herself, Zoey walked through the front doors and stepped into
a vast marble hall.

At first it looked like the normal lobby of a government building
with high ceilings, windows, and a comfortable seating area with brown leather
sofas and plush chairs. But the further she went, the more obvious it became
that this was no ordinary government establishment. She had never imagined such
a peculiar and wonderful place.

Tall mirrors lined the walls on either side of the great hall in the
same way that important portraits of past officials lined the walls of
government buildings. The mirrors were round, square, rectangle, some were even
triangle shaped, and they all hung low to the ground. They were made of gold,
silver, bronze—every metal imaginable. Some were even dressed with multicolored
jewels and looked as though they belonged in some make-believe castle. Some of
the mirrors were old fashioned, with brass frames and blackened mirrors—marked
with age as though they were hundreds of years old. Others looked new, with no
traces of wear. They reflected the light like a river catching the rays from
the sun in the early morning.

Two men in green uniforms were delicately removing a large cracked
mirror and leaving a large rectangular stain on the wall as though the mirror
had been there for ages. Another man with a broom was sweeping up the pieces.

As she strolled past, Zoey leaned forward for a better look. Above
each mirror were two light bulbs, a red one and a green one. Most of the red
lights were on—all except for one.

She could hear a low humming, and a sudden draft brushed her cheek
as though a gust of wind had rolled by. But there were no open windows nearby. Then
the only mirror without a red light shimmered as though the mirror itself was made
of water. The green light bulb flickered on, and a man in a yellow rain coat
stepped out, leaving a wet trail behind him.

Zoey’s jaw dropped.

The man smiled as he passed Zoey and said, “The rain is really
coming down in Bangkok.” She closed her mouth, embarrassed when she realized
she had been staring at him.

Did he just say that he just
came from Bangkok
?

There was a sudden loud buzzing from the opposite side of the hall. The
light bulb on another golden mirror flashed green, and a woman walked out. Her
body covered in orange smoke like she had just stepped out of a volcano. The
woman dusted herself off and walked calmly away with her chin in the air, as
though everything were normal.

“Keep moving, Little Red,” said Agent Barnes with a smirk. Zoey moved
along, but she kept turning around, trying not to miss anything.

And then she saw something that made her gawk even more.

An impressive glass panel on the right wall was a directory for the
building. The large black lettering read:

THE AGENCY

North American Branch No. 416

SUPERNATURAL AFFAIRS, Room 4A

MYSTICS LAWS AND REGULATIONS, Room 3B

CREATURE CONTROL, Room 2C

INTER-DIMENSION TRADE, COMMINUCATIONS & TRANSPORTATION, Room 2A

MILITIA AND DEFENSE, Room 1B

SEVENTHS’ ACADEMY, Room 1D

ILLEGALS, DETAINEES, OR ANY UNLAWFUL AND HOSTILE MYSTICS
,
Basement level

A small note at the bottom added:

“For all other matters, please see Ms. Andrews at the front desk.”

Zoey was mesmerized. As she passed, she could see her own astonished
face reflected in the countless mirrors that lead off the main hall. It
reminded her of the one time she had sneaked into the circus’s fun house, where
the mirrors distorted your face and body. But these weren’t ordinary carnival mirrors,
these were much more unusual.

Suddenly the entire hall buzzed, and masses of people stepped out of
mirrors all around her—people and monsters.

B
lood pounded in Zoey’s ears. A kangaroo-like
creature with a flat, human-like face and a very long feathery tail hopped
along the corridor. A dog with the face of an axe trotted alongside a man with
four legs in a navy suit. A woman with thick green and orange striped skin and red
eyes like burning coals carried a pile of important looking papers. Striding
next to her was an enormous man with bulging muscles, a pronounced forehead,
and a single piercing blue eye. Zoey’s creeps stung her skin like a nuclear goose
bump attack. The sensation wasn’t cold this time, though—it was unusually
warm
. Subconsciously, she reached for
her backpack, but let it go when she caught Agent Barnes’ warning scowl.

Zoey’s attention was quickly diverted when a beautiful steed
galloped by. Its body blazed like a wildfire in red and orange flames. She felt
the heat from its body on her face. She had never seen anything so beautiful,
but she resisted the temptation to reach out and touch it lest she burn her
fingers. She wasn’t sure if the fire was real.

“Get back here you insubordinate animal!”

A skinny bald man in overalls and a plaid shirt whose knees cracked
as he struggled to run after the horse called out, “You’re not allowed on the
main floor. Come back here! I’ll hose you down, horse!”

The horse neighed loudly and left only a fiery-red trail behind as
it disappeared through the main doors.

The strangest beasts Zoey had ever seen passed her by without even a
glance in her direction. With her heart hammering in her ears, she strained to
calm down—if Agent Barnes could be so cool, then so could she. But she turned
her head in every direction as they walked through the hall as she tried to absorb
everything at once.

A tall, thin woman flailed her hands in the air as she spoke to
another group of agents. “Rank six mystics took the Paris subway system hostage.
It took us five hours to neutralize the situation. I don’t get paid enough for
this kind of work…”

Agent Barnes grinned at Zoey’s amazement. “Told you it was awesome.”

Zoey wasn’t sure if she would call this awesome just yet—every
single monster she’d ever faced before had wanted to harm her.

But it was different here—the monsters almost seemed
nice
. It was like a whole new world had opened
up to her. Monsters and humans walked and talked together like it was the most
ordinary thing in the world, as though they were one big happy family.

She followed Agent Barnes to where a woman scribbling in a large
ledger sat behind a long, polished counter.

“I see they’re working you to the bone, Mrs. Andrews,” he said with
a smile. “Do you ever get time off? I hope you’re getting paid time and a half
for your trouble.”

Mrs. Andrews appeared to be in her late fifties. She wore thick
glasses and pinched expression as though she had never smiled in her entire
life. Her hair was done into a long blond braid, which fell over her light blue
suit. Her thin lips were pressed in a hard line.

“It’s late. I was on my way out,” she said without looking up. Her
voice dripped with contempt.

“You’re lucky you caught me, Agent Barnes. May I remind you that office
hours are from nine to
seven
? It’s
half-past eight, and the night watch doesn’t begin until nine o’clock.”

“So why are you still here then?” said Agent Barnes playfully. “Were
you waiting for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Agent Barnes. I was just tidying up for
tomorrow morning. Now, what is it that you want? I don’t have all night.”

“I’m here to see Management, my dear woman. They’re expecting us,”
he said importantly and threw out his chest.

At the mention of
us
, Mrs.
Andrews raised her head and gazed at Zoey. Her gray eyes were magnified by her
glasses and looked like giant crystal balls.

“And who might this be? I’ve never seen the likes of her before? Her
looks are certainly nothing to be considered, and those awful clothes—dear God,
her hair’s as red as carrots!”

Zoey glowered.

Mrs. Andrews didn’t seem to notice. “Well, she’s too young to be an operative.
You can’t just bring in
any
stray
Mute, Agent Barnes, we have strict rules about that you know—even if she looks half-starved
and in desperate need of a bath. The agency won’t approve.”

Agent Barnes leaned over the counter and whispered, “She’s not a
Mute—she’s a
Drifter
.”

Mrs. Andrews’s eyes quadrupled in size.

“A Drifter! You don’t say? Well, I must say—this is a surprise. I
haven’t seen a Drifter in over thirty years. Well, well, well. This will be the
talk of the hive! Wait till Mrs. Crawley hears—I can’t wait to see the look on
her face. Ha! The Wilson’s divorce is
nothing
compared to this bit of news, and I’m the one who saw her first.”

Mrs. Andrews clapped her hands excitedly, with a jubilant expression
on her face like someone who had just won the lottery.

Zoey caught several curious looks from people passing them. Her face
burned, and she wished Mrs. Andrews would stop fussing and stay quiet.

Zoey ignored the woman’s stares and looked around for Tristan. Maybe
he wasn’t back from Boston.

“Just tell them that we’re here and that we’re going up. Come on, Red,
let’s go.” Agent Barnes steered Zoey away from the counter.

She was glad to be away from those big, creepy eyes. Halfway down
the hall Zoey turned around and caught Mrs. Andrews still staring—an odd smile
covered her face, as if she were plotting something evil.

“So, where are we going now?” she asked, looking away from the
creepy woman.

Two large staircases led up to higher levels. Agent Barnes walked up
to the staircase on the right. The words “Floors 1 - 4, BL” were written in
black on the wall at the base of the stairs.

“Up to the third floor,” he answered. “That’s where Management is
waiting for us—well, waiting for
you
,
mostly.”

Zoey became uneasy again. What were they going to do with her? Had this
been a huge mistake? Were they going to fry her, after all? …lock her in the
basement like some criminal? Or worse—perform unconventional experiments on her?

Running was an option—she was very good at running away. If she made
a run for the woods she could probably make it. But how would she sneak past that
dreadful and unsettling Mrs. Andrews? Zoey’s legs felt like cement blocks.

She followed Agent Barnes up three flights of stairs, through a
doorway on level three, and into a hallway with light gray walls and a tan, polished
floor. Doors lined the corridor on either side, and tubular chrome sconces lit
the walls at intervals. Their treads resonated in the quiet hall and echoed the
beating of Zoey’s heart.

Agent Barnes stopped in front of the second door. Zoey read the
inscription: “Mystic Laws and Regulations, Room 3B
.
” The muffled voices from the inside sounded like they were having
an argument.

Zoey’s insides churned.

“What does this Agency
do
exactly?” she asked, her voice dry and cracking. She didn’t want to go in just yet—she
needed a little bit more information first—like what tools they were going to
use to torture her.

Agent Barnes turned and looked at her.

“The agency is a secret force that protects most major cities around
the world,” he answered. “Think of us as supernatural peace keepers. Our
mandate is to protect the human world from evil mystics that don’t respect the
treaty. We’re charged with keeping a balance between humanity and the mystics.
We patrol the borders between the two worlds.”

Mystics
, Zoey repeated in her mind. “What about this Management organization?
I get that they’re probably
your
boss, but are they everyone’s boss?”

“Management is
our
government,
so to speak. Each hive is governed by a group of seven directors. And each
director is in charge of a different division in the hive. Tonight
you
get to meet some of them. Young
Sevenths don’t normally meet so many directors on the same night—you’re very
lucky.”

Zoey thought she was going to puke.

“Don’t look so panicked. They don’t bite,” said Agent Barnes gently.
“Well, maybe just director Martin…but the others seem to be fairly decent
people.”

Zoey kept her eyes low to the ground. “You don’t sound very
convincing.”

She swallowed. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing that’s worth you fretting about like this.” Agent Barnes
put his hand on Zoey’s shoulder. His voice was compassionate.

“Listen kid,
we’re
the
good guys, and we’re going to do what’s best for you. It’s lucky we found you
when we did.
You’re
one of
us,
and we take care of our kind. You’ll
have a real home here, with kids your own age and people who care about you.
You belong here with us, not with the Mutes.”

Zoey screwed up her face. “I’m lost—what are
Mutes
?”

“Mutes are persons that are deaf and blind to the supernatural
around them. Their seventh sense has been turned off, muted, so to speak. Like
us, some are born with the gift, and some are not. Sometimes kids will have the
seventh sense, and then it will go away as they age. Then they become Mutes
like the majority of the human population.”

“So how many of us are there in the world?” asked Zoey.

“About 0.5 percent of the human population,” said Agent Barnes.

“Mutes and Sevenths don’t mix very well. In fact, most of them would
probably have us all locked up. Since they can’t
see
what we see, they think we’re crazy. It’s better that we keep
to ourselves and go about our business. Mind you, some Mutes have married
Sevenths, but that’s really rare. It’s not encouraged to lie to your spouse
about your job, or who you are. We just stick to the program.”

“So do all the people like us live here at the hive?”

“No, some of us work here,” said Agent Barnes. “Out-of-towners
sometimes stay here, too. But you see, Zoey, there are also small communities
all over the world with only Sevenths in them. Humankind has enough to worry
about without having to deal with a subculture that could be seen to threaten
their very validity. It is our job to protect the outside world from truths
that they are not yet ready to know.”

“Right,” said Zoey.

He gave Zoey a questioning look. “Any more questions before we go
in?”

Of course she had more questions, but they would have to wait. She
just shook her head and kept her mouth shut for the time being.

Agent Barnes gave a nod and turned towards the door. He knocked
twice, and they went inside.

The room was large and square with rows of windows at the opposite side.
Twenty chairs framed a great oak table in the middle of the room. Four
important-looking people sat on the opposite side of the table, three men and a
woman.

“Ah, at last, Agent Barnes,” said one of the men as he waved them in.
“Please come in and introduce us to our newest guest.”

He had a round, cheerful face, a neatly trimmed white beard, and
smiling eyes under a mass of thinning white hair. He looked like a retired
professor whose large girth was exposed because his plaid suit was two sizes
too small. His small red bowtie finished his look.

Agent Barnes walked up to the desk. Clasping his hands behind him,
he stood tall and proud. “Thank you, director Hicks.”

He nodded to the others, “director Johnson, director Martin, and
director Campbell. I’d like you to meet Zoey St. John.” He turned and motioned
for Zoey to move forward.

Obediently, she stepped in beside him. In the moment of silence, she
was afraid they would hear the loud thumping of her heart. She tried to breathe
normally, not sure what to do or say. Everyone was staring at her like she had
just landed from Mars.

One of the men had dark skin and a face that showed no emotion,
almost as if he were a wax figure, maybe he
was
a wax figure. The other man was younger with a pale face and dark eyes that
never blinked—he reminded Zoey of an android. The only other person who showed
an ounce of emotion was the woman. She looked bored. Her blond hair was cut square
across her pointy chin, and she was dressed in a bold, patterned jacket that
looked as if it had been made from old curtains.

Zoey’s nerves danced. She smiled at each director as she was
introduced, but only director Hicks returned her smile. She felt like she was
standing in front of a prison parole board—and they weren’t keen on letting her
out.

“Pleased to meet you, Zoey,” said director Hicks, still smiling.
“Welcome to the agency. Please sit down.”

Zoey blushed. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

She pulled out a chair and sat next to Agent Barnes.

“So this is the
Drifter
?”
said the youngest director. His raspy voice sounded as though he had smoked a
million cigarettes. Zoey didn’t like that way he emphasized the word drifter. His
pale face had wrinkled prematurely, and he looked much older than he probably
was. He had dark hair with splashes of gray, dark eyes, and a sunken face that
looked like he hadn’t eaten in months. His striped, gray suit was tailored to
perfection.

“She doesn’t look like much. She looks half-starved and dirty, like
one of those street kids,” he said with disdain.

Zoey disliked him immediately.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant, director Martin,” said director
Hicks.

He turned his blue eyes to Zoey. “So, Zoey, Agent Barnes tells us
that you are an orphan and that you have no idea who your real parents are. You
were given to the St. John’s orphanage without any sort of identification, without
any birth records. Is that correct?”