Zoey couldn’t blame him. She was sure this scene was even worse for Tristan, because he was part mystic himself. It was like watching his family being tortured and burned.
She squeezed his hand in hers, and he squeezed back. Although she couldn’t shake the horror of the scene from her mind, she had to find the source of the virus. She needed to find Mrs. Dupont. And, judging by the strange looks they had started to get from the Alphas, she had to make it fast.
“You filthy monster!”
Zoey spun around. An Alpha man stood in front of a mystic with an egg-shaped body and elongated limbs, like an egg walking on sticks. The man swung his whip in the air, and lashed it at the mystic. The mystic howled in pain and fell to its knees. It raised its hands in surrender.
“Please, please, master. Please don’t hurt me,” it said, its voice quavering.
The man sneered evilly, raised his whip, and lashed it again.
Tristan grabbed the whip midair. The Alpha stared in shock at first, but then he glared at Tristan.
“What do you think you’re doing, boy? This monster deserves a whipping. Let go of the whip before I turn it on you.”
Tristan’s skin started to change color. A feral growl came from his throat. Zoey and Simon exchanged worried looks.
Zoey moved quickly beside him and grabbed his arm.
“Don’t,” she hissed in his ear, “If they find out who we are, they’ll kill us. We need the sample. We can’t do anything for the mystic now. Listen to me, Tristan. Please let the whip go. I promise, if we survive and get the cure—I’ll do everything in my power to come back here and stop this. Tristan?”
Tristan trembled in fury. The hints of blue that had risen from his pores for a moment dissipated and vanished. He let go of the whip.
The man yanked his whip back. For a moment Zoey thought he was going to use it on Tristan, but he wrapped it up and clipped it to his belt.
“You kids get back to your families. There’s nothing here for you. Move, before I report you.”
Tristan glowered at the man for a moment and then turned his head away, clenching his fists.
“Come on.” Zoey steered Tristan away.
They moved away from the wall and made their way silently towards the center of the village. None of them spoke. Zoey strained to keep her face expressionless and tried to numb her feelings. They couldn’t let the Alphas see how upset they were.
She glanced at Tristan. He looked like a time bomb, ready to blow at any second. He was breathing heavily, and Alphas were starting to notice.
A group of men and women passed them. Zoey held her breath. A man with short gray hair and dull eyes seemed to pay particular attention to them as he passed. The other Alphas walked by them as though they didn’t even exist.
“Keep moving,” said Zoey, under her breath.
They walked on in silence. When they had put enough distance between them, something in her gut told her to look back. Her heart skipped a beat. The group of Alphas they had passed moments before had stopped walking. They were talking amongst themselves. The man with the gray hair looked at them and then pointed to Zoey suspiciously.
“…take this to Mrs. Dupont,” said a voice behind them.
Zoey whirled around.
A tall man gave a brown parcel to a mystic who looked like a white werewolf. A red collar was fastened around its neck.
“Be quick about it,” said the same man. “And don’t try to remove that collar again, if you know what’s good for ya.”
The man went inside his shop and closed the door with a bang. The mystic snarled at the door. It held the package out like it might be a bomb and started up the road that led to the top of the hill.
“Guys,” whispered Zoey. “If we follow that mystic, he’ll lead us right to Mrs. Dupont. I have a feeling she lives up in that big manor at the top of the mountain. I knew we didn’t mirror-port here for nothing—”
“Apart from being witnesses to slavery,” said Simon.
“We get to that big house - we sneak in — I get the sample — and we sneak out.”
“Gotcha,” said Simon.
“Tristan?” There was a sadness on his face that she’d never seen before. It was like he was in a trance.
“And while we’re in there,” said Zoey, turning to Simon. “Look for something with a mirror, anything that I can use to get us out of here. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Dupont has lots of mirrors, so we shouldn’t have trouble finding one.”
“I don’t know why she’d keep mirrors. She looks like a freak of nature,” laughed Simon. “If I looked like that—I’d kill myself.”
Zoey glared at him, and then he added, “Okay, okay, don’t worry. I’ll find another mirror. Promise.”
Zoey looked over her shoulder.
The man with the gray hair was still watching them.
“Let’s go, before the Alphas figure out who we are—”
Something sharp jabbed into her side, and then a rough voice said, “Make any sudden movements and you’re dead, agents.”
Chapter 13
Changelings
Zoey froze.
Two more Alphas had appeared at Simon and Tristan’s sides before they could move. Sharp daggers pointed into their backs. Tristan clenched his jaw and scowled. Simon looked surprised but was stiff as a board.
Zoey moved her right arm—
“I said, don’t move!” The strange, raspy voice wasn’t human. But how could that be?
“Move another inch, and I’ll cut you right through to your aorta. You’ll bleed to death.”
Zoey winced as she felt something sharp break the skin on her side.
“Why are you doing this? We didn’t do anything,” Zoey tried to keep her voice calm.
“Oh yes, you did,” laughed the man. “And if you don’t want the rest of the Alphas to cut you up into pretty little agent bits, you’re going to come silently and willingly with us. Any sudden movements, any stupid attempts to run,” he jammed the dagger into her side again, “and I’ll cut you like the blood-bag that you are - there won’t be an inch of you that won’t have a mark.”
“And if we go with you willingly,” said Simon, “are you going to kill us?”
“No.”
Simon made a face.
“Man, what did you eat for dinner? Your breath stinks—” Simon doubled over as the Alpha punched him hard in the stomach.
Tristan inched forward, but the Alpha stuck his blade at his neck.
“Move, boy, and I’ll cut that pretty face of yours.”
Zoey watched the two men who held her friends hostage. Although they looked like middle-aged men, there was something odd in their behavior, like they were twitchy. Something in their eyes was off. They had a flatness, almost as though they were wearing contact lenses.
The odds weren’t in their favor. Zoey’s eyes locked with Tristan’s. It was impossible to read his mind at the moment. He looked like a wild animal ready to strike.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Walk straight to the end of this road and then make a left,” said the voice in her ear. “And act normal. If you and your agent friends want to live, then you’ll do as I say. Now, move.”
Zoey was pushed forward forcefully. She wanted nothing more than to punch the guy who was bullying her. But instead, she did what she was told and followed the path. His dagger poked into her lower back, and she knew he would stick her if she moved away.
Their captors were leading them away from the manor house. Somehow, she would have to get away…
Their kidnappers led them away from the center of the village to a more remote area where the moon illuminated a few houses among the trees. All the lights were on inside the homes—all except for one. A small gray house with a flagstone path sat alone at the end of the road. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn. Their kidnapers led them there.
“Keep moving. This way,” the man growled in Zoey’s ears as he pushed her up to the woode
n front door. With the blade still poking into Zoey’s back, the man moved beside her and knocked five times. She stole a look at her kidnaper. He looked the same as the others, middle-aged with the same strange, dull look in his eyes. What was wrong with their eyes? Were they sick? Something was definitely off…
The man stood back as the door swung open. Shadows moved in the dark beyond the threshold, but she couldn’t make out what they were. The air was stale and smelled of rotten eggs. The person who opened the door seemed to have vanished into the darkness.
“Get in.”
Before Zoey even moved, she was pushed forcefully again, and she staggered forward. Tristan and Simon followed her in. She heard the door close and lock behind them. It was dark inside. Zoey could just make out two rooms on either side of a stairway leading to a second floor. She could barely make out Tristan and Simon’s faces. She imagined they would be as troubled as her own.
“Bring them,” said a voice from somewhere on the right side of the house.
Zoey was shoved forward. One more push, and she was going to elbow him in the gut. The floorboards squeaked under their weight and water dripped from somewhere in the dark. Even if she wanted to spin around and punch the man on his jaw—she couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t see anything.
Zoey waited. The rotten smell was heavier here, like this was where it originated. She felt Tristan and Simon shifting nervously at her sides. Whatever this kidnapping was about, they would soon find out.
“Lights,” said the same deep voice from directly in front of them.
Zoey heard a click, and a soft yellow light engulfed them.
She squinted, blinking the spots from her eyes, and looked around. They stood in a living room with peeling wallpaper and antique furniture. The light came from an old chandelier with only two working bulbs. A Persian rug lay in front of a dull fireplace. Next to the fireplace was a decrepit green armchair, and in it sat a thin man in a blood-red Alpha uniform. Long oily black hair covered most of his face. He had a large hawk-like nose and a square jawline. Thick gleaming talons curled at the end of his fingers. His skin had a grayish tint to it, and he looked like he’d skipped a few good meals. He brushed the hair out of his face, and Zoey’s heart tightened in her chest.
His eyes were completely black.
The man with the black eyes grinned. Zoey could see his pointy yellow teeth. He leaned forward in his chair.
“Welcome, agents, to our humble home.”
“You’re not human,” blurted Zoey. “What are you?”
The man pointed to himself. “No? I’m not human?”
He looked to his cronies and laughed a sick, wet laugh. “Humans are so overrated. What’s so special about being human? They multiply like a virus. They get old, sick, and then they die. Humans are useless, pathetic creatures whose sole purpose is to serve as sustenance for the principal species. Why would I want to be human when I can be so much more? So much better. So much more powerful.”
“Now we know why some animals eat their own children,” said Simon under his breath.
The rotten egg smell was making Zoey’s head spin.
“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you? Because obviously you’re not Alphas.”
The man sneered. “Are you giving orders now, little Agent?”
He hesitated and then snapped his fingers. “Show them, boys.”
Immediately, Zoey felt the pressure of the blade in her back vanish. She turned to Tristan and Simon, and they all looked behind them.
Their kidnappers’ skin started to bubble. Large blisters and boils rose on their skin like third degree burns. Vapors coiled above their bodies. They howled and thrashed around like animals, just as their fingers and toes began to transform into gleaming black talons. And there, where the three men had stood moments before, stood five-foot creatures with soulless black eyes. They had large, misshapen heads, droopy ears, large bulbous noses, and protruding foreheads. They had wisps of black hair on the tops of their heads, and their skin was brown and thick, like leather. They looked like their fairy mothers had given birth to cavemen.
“FYI—that was totally gross,” said Simon, holding his stomach. “I’ll never look at onion soup the same way ever again.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I've come across rotting bodies that are less offensive than you are.”
Zoey wrinkled her nose and looked at the leader. “Why aren’t you changing, if you hate humans so much? Why not shed that costume and show your true ugly self, like the rest of your stinky friends?”
The man leaned back into his chair. “My friends here are changelings. But I’m not a mere skin fairy, little Agent.”
“No?” said Simon, who was now pinching his nose. “You sure smell like one. Do you stinkers believe in hygiene? It’s not that complicated. It’s called soap.”
“What are you, then?” said Tristan, through gritted teeth. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
The leader grinned. “I am Mysterian.”
Tristan flinched, but he didn’t respond. He still had that wild look in his eye, like an untamable beast that might charge at any moment.
The man with the black eyes raised his voice and said very proudly, “I’m Lord Xenor, lord of the Tantu realm in the Nexus. I’m the most powerful demon lord in my world; killer extraordinaire, master combatant, and murderer of thousands. You’ve probably heard of me. I’m very, very dangerous.”
“Never heard of you,” said Simon, and shrugged. “Don’t think you’ve made our list of bad guys.”
Xenor’s face fell. “Of course I’m on your list. Are you sure you’ve never heard of me before?”
“Nope.”
Xenor frowned. “That’s impossible. I’m notorious in the Nexus as the most dangerous demon there is. You probably just forgot - you’re very young. Young minds are feeble.”
Simon shook his head. “Trust me, Xena, I know all the bad guys, and you didn’t cut it. You’re not on the list.”
“It’s Xenor.”
“Right,” said Simon, “Never heard of either of you.”
Xenor’s face darkened, and he twitched nervously in his chair. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate on the matter further, and he looked at Tristan instead.
“I’ve fought against your kind for many years. You are álfar. I’ve always appreciated the strength of you blue-skinned warriors. You know, we’re practically related.”
Tristan’s face was cold. “No, we’re not.”
He watched the mystic lord without blinking. Tristan’s expression was gloomy, and he began to tremble.
“You call yourself a lord, but here you are — hiding. You should be helping the mystics out there. You’ve seen what the Alphas are doing to them. They’re torturing and killing them!” His voice rose in rage. “Why aren’t you doing anything?”
Xenor crossed his legs lazily, with a bored expression. “That’s not my problem—”
“It should be your problem,” growled Tristan, and even Simon took a step back, feeling his wrath. “It’s all of our problem. Those beings are from your world. How can you just sit here like this and not care?”
“It’s simple. Because I don’t care,” said Xenor. “I have my own problems to deal with, and they require my full attention. And if you don’t want me to throw you out there to join your kind—I suggest you stop talking.”
He scowled. Black veins appeared in his skin like spider webs. They spread slowly over his face and his arms until his body was covered in a network of moving black lines. Zoey had never seen anything like it, and her gut told her it was bad.
“You want us to kill them, chief?” smiled the changeling next to Zoey. His large nose drooped down his gaunt face like a sock, and his uniform hung loosely on his thin frame. He waved his dagger in front of Zoey’s eyes. His rancid breath burned her nose. “Oh, please say yes! I really feel the need to kill something. Let me cut her pretty face—”
“Yeah, Gall’s right,” said the change
ling near Tristan. He was the largest of the three kidnappers and the most like a caveman. “Let’s kill them and change into them, yeah! We can take their places and finally get out of here. What do you say, chief?”
“Stop calling me that, Grugg.” Xenor looked annoyed, “I’m your Lord.”
“I hate it here. There’s nothing to eat,” whined the changeling near Tristan. He was short, with a great big belly protruding from the front of his red uniform, like a very ugly Santa.
“Can we eat them? I’ve got some special spices that I brought from the Nexus. This one’s got a lot of meat on his bones…”
“We can’t eat them yet, Gorb,” said the changeling named Gall.
He started to juggle two daggers like a circus performance. “The chief has plans for them first. Maybe we can eat them after.”
“What plans?” questioned Grugg. “I don’t know of any plans. Why don’t I know of the plans? I’m first in command of this regiment!”
Gall scowled. “No, you’re not. I am!”
“No, I am!” said Gorb, and he stuck out his large abdomen. “Everyone knows that, I’ve got our mother’s brains—”
“Shut up! You useless changelings!” cried Xenor.
He jumped up from his seat. “I swear, if I hear one more word about eating them—”
“Sorry, chief,” the three changelings echoed together.
Xenor stomped his foot. “Stop calling me that!”
Zoey remembered something. “Are you the demon lord who crossed over into our world recently with the help of the interlopers? Is that you?”
Xenor’s black eyes lit up. “Ah! You see - you do know who I am! I knew it! I told you, I’m famous—”
“The great demon lord and his…” Zoey looked at the ugly changelings and frowned, “…and his cavalry. That’s you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” said Xenor impatiently, and he lowered himself into his chair.
“All of it is true. I am this demon lord. I’m the only one who got through.”
Mystics 3-Book Collection Page 39