Mystics 3-Book Collection by Kim Richardson Read Free Book Online Page A

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 point five 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