The Sight

  Liam appeared in the doorway, glanced at Tadji, at me.

  “Hey,” Tadji said. “How’s Eleanor?”

  “Resting comfortably,” Liam said. “Thanks for asking.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you get any information about the other attacks?” I asked.

  “There were two others,” he said. “One fugitive started the fire, two were at Eleanor’s, and two more attacked humans. One of Lizzie’s nurses lives on the north side of the prison. She was shot, but she’ll be fine. One civilian volunteer was inside Devil’s Isle, leading a literacy class. She was killed.”

  “They kill indiscriminately,” Tadji said.

  Liam nodded. “They’ve apparently decided everyone not in their group is supporting Containment, and therefore an enemy, a traitor.”

  “At least they’ve gotten all five fugitives contained now,” Tadji said.

  Liam nodded. “Assuming the original count was correct, yeah. If Containment miscalculated—and there was a lot of chaos during the blast; the cameras were toast—there are more waiting for another opportunity.”

  “We need to get to our meeting,” I said.

  “How long has the power been out?”

  Tadji glanced at the wall clock. “About an hour and a half.”

  Liam blew out a breath. “If the power doesn’t come back, we’ll be walking.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Do try to keep Claire injury free for once,” Tadji said, walking into the store again.

  “You say that like I have any control over what she does,” Liam called out over his shoulder, then looked at me.

  “I’m getting Eleanor out tomorrow, one way or another, and whether she wants it or not. But she won’t leave without Moses, and he won’t leave her side.”

  “Loyalty goes a long way,” I said. “So we better figure out a way to help both of them.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We had to wait another half hour for the power to come back, for Liam to be able to start the truck. Enough time to unpack the rest of the stock, add the boxes to the recycling pile in the alley for Containment pickup. And let the pain in my ankle dissipate.

  When the lights buzzed on again, we drove to the church, parked up the block to keep Containment patrols, Reveillon, or anyone else from getting suspicious about vehicles outside a seemingly abandoned church.

  The rain had cleared, leaving the western sky brushed with brilliant streaks of orange and pink, like paint carefully daubed across a canvas. The neighborhood was quiet and Reveillon free.

  We knocked on the door and were admitted by Burke. He nodded, waited until we were inside, then closed the door firmly, snapped new locks closed behind us. Someone had moved chairs and a table into one side of the room and lit taper candles in tall brass candlesticks.

  Erida stood near the table, arms crossed. She wore white trousers and a sleeveless top in the same fabric, her long hair waving over tan shoulders. She looked effortlessly beautiful—the kind of woman who was gorgeous enough to have stepped off a movie set.

  Her gaze slipped to me, and again there was something unpleasant in her eyes. It disappeared quickly, but it was definitely there. That made two times this woman I’d never met before had given me some Solomon-worthy stink eye. If circumstances had been different, I might have asked her about it. But I wasn’t going to waste time trying to prove myself to a woman I didn’t even know.

  A door opened, closed again, and Darby appeared in the back doorway, followed by Malachi. His wings were already hidden, and he was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a slim running jacket in a slick fabric. Burke wore his fatigues and looked tired and a little demoralized. Even Darby, who was smartly dressed in cuffed jeans and a boatneck shirt that fit her Marilyn Monroe–meets-librarian style, seemed to have lost her usual perkiness.

  “I guess we don’t need to apologize for being late,” Liam said as we walked to the table.

  “We’re all late,” Burke said. “You were at Devil’s Isle?”

  Liam nodded.

  “I told them what happened,” Burke said. “We’ve been helping the Joint Ops team search for Reveillon’s main camp, if there is one.”

  “Technically,” Darby said, pulling off a Loyola cap and ruffling her dark hair, “Burke has been helping. I’m just secretly along for the ride, since I’m still persona non grata as far as Containment is concerned.”

  “You find anything?” Liam asked.

  Burke shook his head. “There are more signs around town, more painted-over billboards. No obvious settlements.”

  “So they’re scattered,” Liam said.

  “That would be my guess. Probably all across the city—they can spread out Containment’s response that way, wreak havoc over a larger area.” Burke looked at Malachi. “You have any better luck?”

  We all looked at Malachi, and I only just realized the grim set of his features.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked quietly, but he looked at Erida, kept his eyes on her face.

  Malachi pulled off his jacket, revealing a bloody stain on his T-shirt that still looked fresh.

  “Oh my God!” Darby said, running forward. “What happened? I mean, other than the fact that you’ve been shot,” she added at his dry look.

  “I encountered a herd of them. A dozen young humans, all male, some with guns. They wore street clothes but made their Reveillon chants. They roamed the neighborhood like vigilantes looking for their presumptive traitors.”

  “You engaged them,” I said while Darby went into the back room.

  Malachi looked at me. “I did.”

  “Was that a wise decision?” Liam asked.

  Malachi slid his gaze to Liam, and there was nothing especially friendly in it. “In my position, what would you have done?”

  Since they were both as alpha as they came, Liam inclined his head, acknowledging the point.

  Darby rushed back in, first-aid kit in hand. “Let me take a look at that. Shirt off.”

  “It just grazed me,” he said. “That’s unnecessary.”

  When Darby just stared at him, Malachi pulled the T-shirt over his head.

  I wondered if Liam was aware that he’d moved incrementally closer, as if there was a real risk I’d jump on Malachi when his shirt came off. His body, while perfectly honed, wasn’t the surprise. It was the scars across his chest and abdomen, where it looked like he’d been slashed or burned over and over again.

  Consularis Paras had been forced to fight. Malachi had told us he’d been able to overcome the compulsion, but not before waging some war. I wondered if those scars were from that fighting, or because of his time in the Beyond.

  Darby didn’t seem surprised by them but moved him closer to the candlelight, made him sit on the edge of the table.

  “I could turn the overhead lights on?” I offered.

  “Better if they’re off,” Burke said. “It attracts less attention, which seems better.”

  “I can manage,” Darby said, frowning as she used snips to trim a piece of gauze. “Not my first rodeo.”

  I guessed we all had our war experiences.

  “So, what happened with the humans?” Erida asked as Darby worked.

  Malachi’s expression remained stony. “I attempted to teach them manners and fair play. Most of them scattered when they realized it wasn’t going to be a fair fight.” He smiled, but the look was more scary than joyous. “I left a few unconscious, so I activated the magic monitor and left them for Containment.”

  “Nice,” Liam said, and this time Malachi did the inclining.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Darby asked, closing the kit when she’d finished bandaging Malachi’s wound. “We can’t just stand around and watch them destroy the Zone.”

  “We actually have a request,” Liam said. “Two of the Reveillon fugi
tives attacked Eleanor and Moses today; they think she’s a Sensitive. Which means Ezekiel thinks she’s a Sensitive.”

  “They’ll try for her again,” Burke said, and Liam nodded.

  “Eleanor won’t leave Devil’s Isle without Moses. So we need your help. We need to break him out of Devil’s Isle.”

  —

  The church was absolutely silent.

  “You want to break a Paranormal out of Devil’s Isle?” Darby asked.

  “Yes,” Liam said. “Moses. She won’t leave without him. He wants to go. So . . .”

  “And how do you propose to do that?” Malachi asked.

  “That’s partly why we’re here,” I said. “We were hoping you’d help us.”

  Silence hung heavily in the room.

  “You’re talking about treason,” Burke said quietly. “I shouldn’t be hearing this. I mean, I’m not going to leave. Not when it’s getting interesting. But I shouldn’t be hearing it.”

  “I hear you,” I said, and I looked around the room. “Each of us is a potential prisoner. Burke and I, because we’re Sensitives. Malachi, because he’s Consularis. All of us because we’re sympathizers, because we’ve worked and communicated with Paras, helped them. We could all be arrested right now—so let’s not pretend this is the first time we’ve broken the law. And let’s not use that as an excuse.”

  I looked at Burke. Every Sensitive had a unique power. I could move things. Burke could make himself invisible. “Could you escort Moses out using your invisibility? I mean, make him invisible, so he basically walks out of Devil’s Isle?”

  Burke frowned, shook his head. “The magic makes me invisible, not anyone else. And I’d set off the magic monitors.”

  “But your clothes disappear,” I pointed out. “They aren’t inherently magic.” Quite the opposite, since they were Containment fatigues.

  “They become part of me, is my understanding of the magic. The problem is, I can’t expand the magic beyond that to encompass someone else.”

  “Perhaps you could do something about that.” We all looked at Erida, who was watching Malachi. Then we all looked at Malachi.

  “Could you?” I asked, and thought of our practice at Algiers Point, the way he’d used his magic to make that pinecone heavier. “Enhance Burke’s magic? Magnify it so we can make someone else invisible, too?”

  He frowned. “I’ve never tried to apply it to a Sensitive’s power before.” He looked at Burke, considered. “If I was close enough, and we moved quickly enough.”

  “How quickly?” Liam asked.

  “Minutes?” Malachi suggested. “He’s still a Sensitive. We don’t want to overexpose a Sensitive to magic.”

  Burke crossed his arms, worried his lip with two fingers. We’d all play our parts, but Burke would be taking a big risk. After a time, he looked at Malachi. “We’d have to try it out. Make sure this could actually work.”

  “I have no objection to that,” Malachi said.

  “Okay,” Burke said. “But that still doesn’t address the monitors. If they go off, Containment will close the gate, and none of us will be going anywhere.”

  “I think we can deal with the monitors,” I said, and glanced at Liam. “Moses is very, very good with electronics.”

  “A lot of moving pieces,” Darby said. “You have to turn the monitors off. Malachi has to be in the right place to affect Burke. Burke has to concentrate on his magic.”

  “We could take Eleanor at the same time,” Liam said. “That way, Claire and I are with you just in case something happens.”

  “And if we manage to pull it off?” Burke asked. “To get them out. What then?”

  I looked at Malachi. “When Containment first established Devil’s Isle, started moving Paras into the prisons, I bet you had a way to get Consularis Paras out of the city and into the bayous.”

  Malachi watched me carefully for a moment. “There were routes to be followed.”

  “Then we use that tactic here. If it’s what they want to do, we could move him—or both of them—from one way station to the next. We could use Royal Mercantile, since it’s the closest stop to the prison. Then Royal Mercantile to here.”

  “To the bayous,” Liam said, nodding. “That’s a possibility. There’s the cabin at Bayou Teche. I haven’t been there in years, but it’s a possibility. There’d need to be arrangements. Her medical care, getting supplies to them.”

  “We have mechanisms for supply drops,” Malachi said. “If Moses is with her, and considering her magic, there are procedures we can use. They are our people, too.” He glanced at me. “If that’s what they want to do.”

  Treason had never felt so good.

  —

  We talked for three hours. Debated, reassessed, and tried to plan for every complication, because the plan was already dangerous enough.

  “Burke will meet Liam and me at Eleanor’s house at noon,” I said. “That’s when the guard shifts change, which gives us a little flexibility. Malachi will direct his magic from a high point outside the gate. We’ll use a utility cart, drive Moses and Eleanor out of Devil’s Isle and to the store, where they’ll wait until the coast is clear. Gavin will drive them to the church, where Darby will be waiting.”

  She nodded.

  I looked at Malachi and Erida. “And you’ll get them to the Quinn place at Bayou Teche.”

  “We will,” Erida said.

  “I haven’t told Gunnar,” I said, apropos of nothing, but because it was bothering me. “I don’t think I will.”

  “Because you don’t think he’s trustworthy?” Darby asked.

  “Because I know he is, and that puts him in an impossible spot. He can’t do his job and ours, too. And frankly, we’ll probably need him in that spot before all this is said and done. But I’ll have to tell Tadji,” I realized. “I can’t take them to the store—put her in the middle—and not give her the truth.”

  “She comes from a long line of trustworthy people,” Malachi said, probably thinking of Tadji’s mother, who’d been instrumental in closing the Veil. “And she has a healthy fear of magic.”

  “We all fear a lot of things these days,” Liam said. “And speaking of which, we should get back to the store.” He glanced at me. “I’ll drop you off, and then I want to check on Eleanor and Moses, make sure the new guard has arrived.”

  I nodded.

  “I can meet Claire at the store,” Malachi said. “Work with her on her magic until you return.”

  I wasn’t sure what response Liam had expected to get, but he didn’t seem thrilled by Malachi’s offer.

  “Don’t you and Burke need to practice?” I asked.

  “We do,” Burke said, rising and pushing back his chair. “But I need to make some arrangements of my own, if I’m going to be running around Devil’s Isle. Actually,” he added, glancing at me, “if it’s all right with Claire, we could practice in the store, since it’s insulated.”

  “That’s fine by me,” I said. Better than fine, as it would give me the chance to watch them practice together. The more I learned about magic, the better for all of us.

  “Did you want a ride back to the store?” I asked Malachi, and he shook his head, unfolded his wings. Candlelight gleamed through them, making him seem a creature of light. “I have my own means of transportation.”

  He nodded at each of us, then disappeared through the back of the church.

  “Does he think they won’t see him?” Liam asked quietly. “Or does he want the fight?”

  “Both,” Erida said. “He is who he is, and prefers not to pretend otherwise. That’s why Devil’s Isle is anathema to him. Containment wants Paranormals to be humans—magicless, impotent.”

  Yet another reason for doing what we’d planned to do. Maybe we could start a change.

  —

  It was late when Liam dro
pped me off. Malachi already stood beneath the balcony, waiting for us, and the store was dark but for a small lamp behind the counter.

  “I’ll be back,” Liam said, and I wasn’t sure if it was a promise or a threat.

  “Be careful,” I said, and watched the truck’s lights disappear down Royal.

  “Let’s get inside,” Malachi said, waiting until I’d walked into the store, then closing the door behind us, flipping the locks.

  I walked to the counter, looking for the note that would assure me Tadji was safe, and found it beside the receipt pad.

  Late. Exhausted. Gavin’s going to bunk at my place until Burke arrives. Stay safe.

  Good. One less thing to worry about.

  “I want something to drink,” I said, and glanced at Malachi, who was picking through a box of colored duct tape, staring like they were exotic jewels. He browsed the objects here just as he’d done downstairs. And in much the same way as Nix, the Paranormal who’d betrayed us, had once done.

  “Would you like anything?”

  He shook his head, so I grabbed a bottle of water, found him waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Shall we see your magic?”

  “Lead the way,” I said with a flourish.

  I followed him to the second-floor storage room. He flipped on the light, moved immediately to the box of cast-off magic.

  “Good,” he said, fingers skimming, but not quite touching, its surface. “You’ve been casting off.”

  “I have plenty of incentive,” I said. “I’ve been working on using my emotions to control my magic. How did you know I’d be able to do that?”

  Malachi smiled. “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t?”

  Malachi just shrugged, a surprisingly human motion. “Magic isn’t inherent for humans, and I haven’t communicated with many Sensitives regarding their abilities. I wasn’t entirely certain what would happen.” He cocked his head. “What did happen?”

  “Insulation, I think. I can use the emotions to surround the magic, coax it to do what I want.”

  He looked intrigued. “Can you show me?”

  “I can try.” I’d used anger before, but didn’t feel especially angry right now. I felt unsettled. Unsettled and guilty and impatient. That was a different kind of emotion, but maybe still powerful enough to make the magic work the way I wanted it to.