Mystics 3-Book Collection (9 page)

With a final glower in Stuart’s direction,
Zoey followed Tristan out of the class. She tried to forget how
unwelcome he made her feel and strained to think about how
fortunate she was to be in the program—but she couldn’t. Her hatred
for the boy was growing. While she had found a new friend here at
the agency, she had also gained an enemy.

Lunch was at the Wander Inn. The dining room
was set up with a buffet lunch where everyone helped themselves to
plates of food and drink. A bulbous purple mystic with four eyes
and small mouth like a button was wearing a chef’s hat and stained
apron and served behind the counter. The thing squealed in delight
as it packed their plates with spoonsfuls of spaghetti and
meatballs.

The room was crowded with operatives and
agents. Apparently, everyone ate there, including Stuart and his
cronies. They stared at Zoey from the end of the buffet line,
whispering and laughing.

After they had served themselves with two
slices of pizza, fries, and two bottles of water, Tristan and Zoey
took a table near the window where they’d be out of earshot.

“So, Agent Ward wasn’t half as bad as I
thought she’d be,” said Tristan as he popped a handful of fries in
his mouth. “I thought it went pretty well.”

Zoey stared at him. “Are you kidding? The
woman nearly bit my head off. She hates me.”

“She hates everyone,” said a voice.

Zoey looked up from her plate. The voice
belonged to the boy who had tried to get her attention earlier. He
was lanky with a goofy kind of face, blonde hair, freckles, and
large pleading blue eyes.

“Can I sit with you guys?” he asked, and
before either of them could answer the boy sat at their table and
stuck out his hand. “Simon Brown at your service.”

Zoey laughed and shook his hand. “Nice to
meet you, Simon.”

She liked him immediately.

“Everyone’s talking about you, you know,”
said Simon as he angled a large slice of greasy pizza towards his
mouth.

“You’re like the main attraction around
here. People haven’t been this excited since Cameron clogged all
the toilets on the second floor. It must have been a real shock for
you when you came here, right? Yeah, must have been. I would have
been shocked. I mean—if
I
were you. But I’m not—but I would
have been—you know what I mean?”

Grease rolled down the sides of his mouth as
he chewed happily.

There was something Zoey had wanted to ask
Tristan since they had rescued her, and she figured there was no
better time than right now.

“What’s an
interloper
?” she blurted
out.

Simon choked on his pizza, and Tristan’s
fries fell on his plate. The entire dining room froze, and all eyes
were on Zoey.

“Agent Lee said that one was stolen
yesterday in Boston,” she continued. “So I’m thinking that you must
have seen it or something, right?”

Tristan and Simon looked at each other but
said nothing.

Zoey leaned forward on the table and lowered
her voice.

“What did I say?” She looked at them both.
“What’s the big deal? Why is everyone staring at me?”

Tristan waited until everyone went back to
their meals before answering. “Don’t say that word so loud.”

“What word? Interloper?”

“SHHH!”

Zoey covered her mouth. “Okay,” she
whispered and lowered herself even closer to the table, getting
pizza grease on her sleeves and hair.

“But what is it? And why do I have to
whisper about it?”

Tristan and Simon looked at each other
again, and then finally Tristan said. “It’s a top secret device
that only a few Sevenths and mystics have
ever
laid eyes on.
It’s used to travel through and back from the Nexus.”

“The Nexus,” repeated Zoey. She remembered
that both her foster mother’s demon and the agents had mentioned
it.

“Is that like where the monst—mystics live,
or something?” She caught herself.

Tristan took a sip of his water. “The Nexus
is where the mystics came from thousands of years ago. It’s another
dimension—a world filled with millions of mystics.”

A slice of pepperoni fell from Simon’s
mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

The pieces to Zoey’s puzzle were all coming
together now. She was getting the hang of it. “So why is it so
special…this interloper?” she said and lowered her voice on the
word
interloper
. “Why is it kept secret?”

“Because it’s one of the
few
devices
that actually work,” said Tristan, looking serious.

“Guys, I think I’m lactose intolerant,”
interjected Simon. “It’s the cheese—I think maybe that’s why I’m
afraid of cows.”

Tristan ignored him. “The mystics built the
devices thousands of years ago and used them to cross over to
Earth, to colonize our world—”

“—Like an alien invasion,” said Simon as he
took another bite of his pizza.

“But then the hostiles massacred hundreds of
thousands of humans,” continued Tristan, “they wanted to annihilate
the entire human race—”

“—Until there was nothing left of us but
dust,” added Simon, still chewing.

“The Mutes didn’t understand what was
happening to them. They couldn’t
see
their threat, so they
couldn’t fight back. That’s when the Sevenths got together and
destroyed most of the interlopers, to keep the hostiles from
crossing over to Earth again. And that’s when the Agencies and the
treaty were created.”

Simon licked the grease from his fingers.
“We patrol the dimension’s borders. We keep tabs on the hostiles.
Can I have a sip of your drink?” he helped himself to Tristan’s
drink.

Zoey watched Aria pouring water into empty
glasses.

“So why do they stay here? Why don’t they go
back to their world? Don’t they like it there?”

“Because to most of them
this
is
their world,” said Tristan.

“They were born here on Earth and have been
here for generations. Their home is here, just like you and me, and
they have the right to stay. Besides, from what I’ve heard, the
Nexus isn’t all that great. The hostiles use the weaker mystics as
slaves, and there are ongoing wars between races. It’s pretty
bad.”

“Guys, I think I’m going to become a vegan,”
said Simon as he belched. “Hey, I feel better now!”

“So they prefer to stay here because they
don’t want to go back.” Zoey remembered that the Skin and Duyen
demons had been determined to stay here on Earth. They were
prepared to do whatever it took to avoid going back to the
Nexus.

“I get it, it makes sense.”

She looked back at Aria and imagined her as
a toddler with her siblings as her own mother ran after them and
picked them up with her four arms.

Simon wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand. “It’s all there in the treaty. The mystics
must
respect our world and us, ‘cause if they don’t—well, that’s when
the agency steps in and things get ugly.”

Zoey looked at Tristan. “You said they
didn’t destroy all the interlopers, so where are they now?”

Tristan stared at her. “All I know is that
there are only a few left. They are hidden in major cities around
the world. They’re all heavily guarded—it’s not like you can just
walk in and take one. You’d be killed. You’d be insane to try.”

“But someone did,” said Zoey, her curiosity
growing by the minute.

She felt Stuart’s creepy blue eyes on her
but ignored him and turned her attention to Tristan again.

“Did Agent Lee find out who took it? Do they
have any leads and theories as to why they took it in the first
place?”

Tristan hesitated then shook his head. “No.
It was really bad. There were bodies everywhere, mystic and human.
It was horrible. Whoever took it must have had an army or
something—they got through the agency’s toughest security. We don’t
know how they found out where it was.”

“But
why
would someone steal it?”
asked Zoey, aware that Stuart was slowly making his way closer to
their table. It was so obvious he was trying to hear what they were
talking about.

“To travel without being detected,” answered
Tristan. “To let the hostile mystics who hate us
in.
There’s
no way we could keep track of all the mystics traveling to Earth if
someone had their own interloper.”

Zoey frowned. “You mean like,
illegally
?”

“Yup,” said Simon. “I mean we do get
illegals from time to time. They slip through the cracks, so to
speak. Usually they use other transporting devices, but those
things don’t work very well, and most of the time the mystics die
trying to get across. But a single interloper could let thousands
of undetected mystics through at one time—thousands of
big
ugly ones.”

“So who would want to do something like
that?” asked Zoey.

“Hostiles, probably,” said Tristan.

An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Zoey’s
stomach. “So whoever stole it, has big plans for it, like something
really bad, right? I mean, that’s the only thing that would make
sense, right?”

“Yup,” agreed Simon. “Like a nuclear
explosion of hostile mystics. They’d come here and destroy every
last human being. They would probably eat us, too.”

Agent Barnes had said that whoever had
stolen the interloper must have been an insider. Someone with
Agency connections must have stolen the device. But who had it now?
And why did they take it in the first place?

When they were finished eating, Zoey pushed
her seat back and got up.

“Okay, what’s next?” she asked.

“Now the fun
really
begins,” said
Tristan excitedly, sharing a look with Simon. “Now it’s time to see
if you’ve really got what it takes to be an operative.”

Zoey hadn’t expected to see a Viking when
she returned to class with her new friends, Tristan and Simon. A
giant of a man with angular features and muscles that bulged
through his white shirt stood at the front of the class in place of
Agent Ward. He looked to be in his late fifties, but was still as
fit and strong as an ox. His long blond hair was tied in a neat
braid. She had read that horned Viking helmets were a myth, but she
couldn’t help picture one on his head. It seemed to fit him.

He stared at Zoey without blinking.

“You must be the Drifter, Zoey St. John,” he
said in a deep commanding voice. Stuart and his gang laughed.

Zoey stood frozen in the doorway, she
suddenly felt very small and insignificant. She saw Tristan and
Simon take their seats, and she willed herself to her place and sat
down, doing her best not to look at the Viking.

But then something happened that changed
everything. The Viking smiled.

“Welcome, Zoey,” said the Viking.

“You may call me Agent Vargas. For your
practical training, I’ll do my best to teach you the art of combat,
weapons training, and self-defense. I will teach you how to
catch
and
restrain
illegals. If you are not
physically fit, then you cannot do your job. You can know
everything there is to know about hostiles and the mystic world,
but if you can’t fight or defend yourself—you’re just as good as
dead. Might as well quit while you still can, and go work in the
kitchen. Quiet down everyone. I’m going to make agents out of you,
if it’s the last thing I do.”

He winked at her, and she felt her face get
hot. She felt even better when she saw the disappointment on
Stuart’s face.

Agent Vargas smacked his great hands
together, making everybody jump. He rubbed them eagerly. “Well,
today’s your lucky day, my little colts. I have a special
treat.”

He surveyed the classroom. “I just got a
report that there’s a major power outage in Broken Hill, New South
Wales, Australia, and we’ve been assigned the job.”

The classroom erupted in cheers, as though
the fact that Broken Hill had no power was very
good
news.
Zoey was a little confused. Were they going to learn how to become
electricians? Australia wasn’t around the corner—she figured they
would have to fly. She looked forward to a group trip—it might be
fun. She had never been in an airplane before.

Agent Vargas stood up. “I want everyone
ready downstairs in the main hall in ten minutes. Don’t forget your
sprays.”

Zoey watched as everyone jumped from their
seats and ran to the collection of weapons and tools that filled
the shelves along the wall. Not sure if she should join, she stood
up but remained close to her desk.

Agent Vargas walked over to Zoey. He was
even bigger up close and his bulging muscles were distracting.
“There’s no better way to assess a new operative then to throw them
into the lion’s den. I believe in hands-on training, so you will
participate with the rest of your comrades today. I hope you’re
ready for a little excitement.”

Zoey’s face brightened—she was going to
become an electrician with the rest of them. It wasn’t what she had
dreamed about, but it was a start.

“But first,” continued the agent, “you must
come with me. We need to scan you.”

Zoey stared at Agent Vargas as he headed
towards the door.
Did he just say scan
? Her heart pounded in
her ears.
Did he mean a brain scan
?

Her excitement started to wane. She looked
over to Tristan and Simon who were happily conversing with one
another as they stuffed their pockets with what looked like hair
spray canisters.

Tristan caught her eye and frowned when he
noticed her panic. He started forward, but Zoey looked away. She
didn’t want him to think she was a scared little girl. Whatever
this
scan
was, the others had probably gone through it
already, so she would too. It was part of the program after all and
she was determined to see it through no matter what, even if it
meant to have a few brain cells fried.