The Sight (22 page)

Liam let out an audible breath of obvious relief.

It was only the first step, but at least we'd gotten there.

—

Unfortunately, the building's front steps proved trickier. There was plenty of grunting as Moses, Malachi, and Burke maneuvered their way to the cart, but they managed it.

Gavin loaded the suitcases and took the driver's seat. I took shotgun and Liam and Eleanor took the second seat. Our magicked crew took the back bench.

Gavin looked back at his grandmother. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she said with a decisive nod, and Gavin led us toward the Devil's Isle gate.

“Did I mention there's coffee at the store?” I said into the nervous silence, trying to keep the conversation light.

Liam lifted his eyebrows. “Actual coffee?”

I nodded. “I opened a new bag. Figured we could use a pick-me-up, what with Reveillon and the late nights.”

“Tadji's probably already got plans to pipe the scent out to the sidewalk,” Gavin said, rounding the corner, “lure in more customers like a siren.”

“She is weirdly good at the merchandising thing.”

“She interviews people in the Zone for a living,” Liam pointed out. “She knows who they are, what they respond to.”

His tone was relaxed, his gaze on the cottages and buildings we passed, and anyone who hadn't known him well would have assumed he was taking in the view. But I could see the tension in his body, the strength in the arm he'd banded around Eleanor's shoulders. Her head was back on the bench and she was smiling, her eyes closed as she absorbed the sunshine. I wondered how long it had been since she'd left the house.

When the vehicle slowed, I looked back at the street . . . and the barrier of Paras who stood in front of us.

S
olomon stood in the middle of the street, hands in the pockets of a very bad pin-striped suit. Was he trying to emulate a stereotypical mobster? If so, he was pulling it off pretty well.

While I thought he looked ridiculous, I still understood the danger. Liam and I had been attacked by Solomon's thugs on my first trip into Devil's Isle. As far as I knew, that business had been concluded, but Solomon was still a bully. And the four very large Paras who stood around him looked like they were, too.

“Son of a bitch,” Liam muttered. “I don't recall that we have any business today,” he added, expression cold and hard as Solomon walked toward the cart.

“I should think not, since it looks like parade season in New Orleans. Is it Mardi Gras Day, and nobody told me?”

Liam looked bored. “It takes more than one cart to make a parade.”

Solomon's eyebrows lifted, and he slid his gaze to the empty space behind us.
Shit,
I thought, and cold sweat trickled down my back, even as heat and humidity pummeled us.

He took a step closer, and so did his people, closing in around us. “You may be able to fool the humans, Mr. Quinn, but you don't fool me.” He sniffed the air, his large nostrils expanding. “I can smell my
repugnant little cousin a mile away.” I guessed Solomon was aware that Moses hadn't died in the explosion.

I could practically feel Moses baring his teeth at my back. But he maintained his control, just as he was supposed to.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Solomon, we're in a hurry. Claire's got to get back to the store.”

“It's shipment day,” I confirmed. “If I'm not there to accept it, I get dinged by Containment.”

By my calculation, it had taken seven slow minutes to get to this point in the neighborhood. That meant we had thirteen minutes to get out of Devil's Isle and all the way back to the store—nearly a mile away.

“And FYI,” I added, “there's a Containment agent on the corner watching you.” I pointed to the woman on the corner, saw her gaze slip from Solomon to the magic monitor. The light was red. But Solomon could have been doing all the magic in the world, and that wouldn't have changed.

Solomon looked pissed at my interruption. And also probably because I'd cried wolf about Containment the last time we interacted.

“Cross my heart,” I said, and made the motion. “Maybe one of your fine colleagues could look?”

Solomon snapped his fingers behind him, and the man directly behind him glanced around.

“Five o'clock,” he confirmed. “Dame.”

Seriously, had they learned about humans by watching 1940s mob movies? Give 'em spats and tommy guns and they'd be all set.

“So,” Liam said, drawing Solomon's attention again. “Since you stepped into my path, if you could tell me what you want and be on your way?”

Solomon grinned, and much like Moses's attempts, it didn't look quite natural. “Cash,” he said, “is universally accepted.”

Liam rolled his eyes dramatically. “Cash for what? Because your cousin has a stench that is apparently following us around the Marigny?” He pulled at his hem as if fanning fumes from his shirt.

Solomon stepped closer. He was shorter than Liam, but carried fifty more pounds, and a lot more ego. I didn't know if he'd earned it.

“You think we don't know something's coming? Bombing, fire, attack, all by outsiders. Something is happening out there, something Containment hasn't handled. We don't like it.” For the first time, there was a strand of fear in Solomon's eyes.

Liam watched him for a long time.

“Reveillon is big,” Liam finally said. “Ezekiel has an army. If you can stock some food and water, put it away, you'll want to do that.”

Solomon nodded, then squinted and glanced behind us again. “And as for today's business?”

“We just gave you advice,” Liam protested.

“That's appreciated,” Solomon said. “But it doesn't affect this transaction.”

Damn it, we were losing time.

“Twenty Devil's Isle tokens,” I offered, and Solomon's gaze snapped to mine. “And you walk away right now.”

Solomon's grin was feral. He thought he'd found a mark. “Thirty.”

“Twenty-five.” I glanced behind him. The Containment agent, ten or fifteen yards away, was beginning to walk toward us. “And you head off the Containment agent. And if you say no,” I threw out, heading off his argument, “I'll give them to your cousin.”

I could practically hear seconds ticking down in his silence.

Solomon growled but nodded. “When do I collect?”

“I'll get them to Liam. Liam will get them to you.”

“In that case,” Solomon said, as the Containment agent began to move closer, “it's been a pleasure doing business with you.” He turned. “Agent Correlli! A pleasure to see you as always.”

Liam gave the agent a friendly wave, rolled his eyes dramatically to signal his frustration with Solomon. But to his credit, Solomon kept her occupied while we continued down the street.

“He'd have taken twenty,” Liam said when Solomon was well behind us.

I grinned. “I'd have paid him thirty. This way, we both go away satisfied.”

We just had to be sure we could go away quickly.

—

Gavin looked bored when we approached the gate and flashed his pass at the guardhouse.

The guard nodded. “Agent Landreau told us to expect you and Mrs. Arsenault.” He lifted fingers to his forehead in a small salute. “Pleasure knowing you, ma'am. Best of luck out there.”

“Thank you,” Eleanor said with a regal nod.

The gate began its crawl open again, and we drove through. And I didn't breathe again until it closed again behind us.

We cruised down Royal, but as we neared the store, we found a cluster of people standing outside, murmuring and chatting animatedly.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Liam muttered, echoing my thoughts. “What's happening?”

Someone had seen Malachi, had been my first thought. Or maybe Broussard was causing trouble.

Gavin pulled the cart into the alley beside the store, behind a dark luxury sedan with tinted windows.

Liam sighed. “And where did you get the car?”

Eleanor gave Gavin a sour look. “Gavin Arsenault Beauregard Quinn.”

“Beauregard?” I said, grinning at him.

“It's a family name,” Gavin said. “And I'll hear nothing else about it.”

“The car?” Liam prompted.

“Borrowed. I left an IOU and everything.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Stay here,” he said to the rest of the group as he and I hopped out of the cart.

We walked around to the front of the store, where the windows and door had been covered with white sheets. Tadji had painted
PREPARING FOR GR
AND REOPENING
in large golden letters across the one that hung in the left-hand window. Cheery big band music piped from the store from a speaker Tadji had propped outside.

“Oh my God, she's a genius,” I muttered. She'd figured out a way to give us almost complete privacy. The sidewalk stragglers couldn't see through the sheet, and they wouldn't hear us talking over the music.

The dozen customers in front of the store shouted questions as we walked to the door.

“Are you remodeling?”

“Was there a fire?”

“Will there be door prizes?”

The door slitted open, and Tadji peeked outside. “I heard the crowd, figured you were out here.” She scooted aside just enough for Liam and me to slip inside.

“Sorry for the delay, everyone!” I said, offering them a wave. “I think you'll decide the wait was worth it!”

I didn't wait for responses, but closed and locked the door again.

“I'll get them in through the back door,” Liam said, jogging to the other side of the store.

Malachi, Burke, and Moses shimmered into view inside the store just as the monitor across the street turned off, blinked twice, then settled again into red.

We'd gotten very, very lucky.

—

Having done her duty by keeping an eye on the store, and apparently not in the mood for company, Erida slipped out the back. Burke settled Eleanor at the table while Moses inspected the store, peering into baskets and surveying shelves. Royal Mercantile was three-for-three on captivating Paras.

“I was pacing the floor,” Tadji said, bringing mugs and a fresh pot of coffee into the front room. “My hands are still shaking.”

“Then maybe I should take that,” Burke said, intercepting her and taking the carafe.

She nodded, handed out mugs.

“Introductions,” I said. “Tadji, you know Malachi, and this is Eleanor Arsenault and Moses. Eleanor and Moses, my friend Tadji.”

“A pleasure,” Eleanor said. Moses's face was buried in a gilded manuscript on a bookstand, but he lifted a hand.

“That might be the best you get from him,” Liam said. He ran his hands through his hair, linked them atop his head, grinned hugely. “I cannot believe we just pulled that off.”

Gavin looked at Tadji, pointed to the window. “That was a stroke of genius.”

“It really was,” I said, embracing her until she squeaked.

“I thought, in case things didn't go smoothly, you might need some time to regroup. Unfortunately, they are going to expect something pretty spectacular when we open the doors again. Which I'm working on.” She gestured to the markers and clipboard on the counter. “Everything on your end went well?”

“Well enough,” Liam said, pouring coffee into mugs and passing them around the table.

“It didn't occur to me that Solomon could sense Moses,” Malachi said.

“I'm not entirely sure he did,” Liam said, “versus making a very lucky guess. And that's my bad, too. I hadn't thought to plan for Solomon, who is a chronic pain in my ass. I should have.”

I left them to discuss the irritation that was Solomon, walked to Moses. He stood in front of the rack of walking sticks, pulling each one out, inspecting it, sliding it in again.

He glanced up at me. “So this is your place.”

“It is. What do you think?” It was suddenly very important to me that he like my store.

He looked around. “Humans make a lot of things out of wood.”

“Yeah, Nix said the same thing.”

Nodding, he walked to a box of doorknobs, picked through until he found one with a cut-glass handle that gleamed in the light. “That's a nice bauble.”

“Why don't you take that?”

Moses looked at me suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because it would be a favor to me,” I said, and suddenly realized that this fabulous person was about to disappear from my life. If not forever, then for a very long time. “Like, something to remember me by.”

Moses snorted, but tucked the doorknob into a pocket of his baggy pants. “Shines pretty good.”

“That it does,” I agreed.

“I guess we should go over there before they start hollering,” Moses said.

“I guess we should,” I agreed, but crouched down and hugged him before he had a chance to escape. “Thank you for everything. If it wasn't for you . . .”

“Don't say it,” he said, and embraced me back, his arms squeezing tightly, but only for a second. Moses released me, and sarcasm
was back in his tone and expression quickly enough. “No need to get all emotional. This is temporary.”

He walked back to the group, waved his arms. “Just temporary. This will all be worked out soon enough, this Containment and Devil's Isle nonsense.” He looked at Malachi, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Right?”

Malachi didn't miss a beat. “I'll do everything in my power to make it so.”

“As to things in my power,” Gavin said, putting a hand on his chest and gesturing to the store's back door. “Your chariot awaits.”

Malachi took shotgun in the black sedan, and Gavin held open the car's back door while Moses climbed inside. Then he looked at his grandmother. “We'll come see you as soon as we can get clear here.”

She nodded. “I know you will.” She glanced in our general direction, her eyes even paler in the afternoon sunlight. “Thank you for everything you've done. For everything you sacrificed.”

She put a slight hand on the car to balance herself as Liam helped her lean into the backseat.

But then she sucked in a whistling breath, fingers clutching at the car's roof as she stared wide-eyed at something only she could see. And there was horror in her gaze.

Liam looked around, but it was quiet except for the rustle of pigeons above us.

“Eleanor!” Liam said, and scooped her up when her knees trembled and she began to slide to the ground. He carried her around the corner to the courtyard behind the store, set her carefully on the bench.

Liam crouched in front of her. “Eleanor. What's wrong?”

“So much darkness,” Eleanor muttered, eyes blindly searching as she reached out, gripped Liam's hand. “I see so much darkness.”

“It's a rose, a blooming rose.” She swallowed hard, put her free hand against her chest. “Not a flower. Power. Darkness. But spreading.”

“I'll get some water,” Tadji said quietly, and went back into the store.

Burke kneeled beside Liam, his eyes wide with concern. “Tell me what you see, Eleanor. Is it magic?”

“A flower. Oily. So dark. So fluid.” Her breath shuddered in, then out.

Tadji came back, offered Liam the cup of water. He handed it to Eleanor, whose hands shook as she sipped from it.

“I've seen dark magic before,” she said, her voice so quiet, so delicate. “But not like this. Not this kind of darkness.” She turned her gaze toward Liam. “My book?”

That was her coded record of all the magic she'd glimpsed, organized by color.

“The book is in your suitcase,” Liam assured her. “It's in the car. Where did you see this magic?”