Mystics 3-Book Collection (60 page)

“Are you sure you’re okay, Zoey?” said
Tristan. “You’re bleeding,” he said, as he tossed his red shirt on
the ground. “You have a nasty cut on your forehead, and there’s
blood all over your shirt. What happened over there? Did the
spiders do that?”

Zoey told them about Araneae, and what Xenor
had told her about her mother.

“The Nexus?” Simon asked. “But why would
Mrs. Dupont sell your mother to some scumbags in the Nexus?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s for the same
reason that Mrs. Dupont experimented on her before.”

“Which is what?” asked Tristan.

Zoey swallowed. “It has something to do with
the blood of the Originals. I don’t know how I know this, but I
just do.”

“Then the mystics are performing experiments
on her,” said Simon. “That can’t be good.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”
Tristan had an intense look in his eyes.

Zoey looked away from him. “I do.”

“I don’t,” said Simon. “You two want to
share?”

Zoey turned to Simon. “It means that I need
to find her. It means I have to go to the Nexus and rescue my
mother.”

Simon was speechless. “Have you gone
completely
mad? What did that woman do to your brain? You
can’t
go
to the Nexus, no agent has
ever
crossed
over—I’m not even sure there’s air there! Besides, the minute you
cross over, you’re dead—”

“My mother crossed over,” interrupted Zoey,
“which means I can, too. And I’m going to find her. But right now,
we have to help to protect the Hive until Agent Franken conjures up
the cure.”

“That’s right,” agreed Tristan. “This
fight’s not over yet.”

Simon looked pale, and he lowered his voice.
“It might not work. His cure, I mean. I didn’t want to say it, but
I feel that I should. What happens if his so-called miracle cure
doesn’t work? What will we do then?”

“It
will
work,” said Zoey. “Have a
little faith. We didn’t go all the way to Mrs. Dupont’s Fun House
for nothing. It’s going to work. I know it will.”

She turned and looked at the old man in his
spacesuit. “I have faith in him. He only needed the sample, and we
gave it to him. Now we let him work. Come on.”

Zoey ran for the exit.

“Wait!” cried Simon.

Zoey jumped and looked around wildly. “What?
What?”

Simon pointed to his red uniform. “We can’t
go out in these. We’ll get killed.”

He started to undress.

Zoey was glad to be rid of the stinky
uniform. She tossed it on the floor next to Simon and Tristan’s
pile.

When they were all free of the uniforms,
Zoey reached for the handle on the exit again.

“Ready?”

They could hear muffled screams and shouts
now that they were closer to the door. Tristan and Simon nodded and
drew their weapons.

Zoey pulled open the door.

The smoke and the smell of burned flesh were
the first things that hit her.

Bodies were scattered under piles of
concrete and plaster. She couldn’t tell if they were friendly or
hostiles. She only knew that they were dead.

They moved cautiously down the corridor.
Holes peppered the walls, and entire chunks of the floor were
overturned like something big had crawled out.

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?
The
y’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 white 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.