The Veil

There was about ten feet of space between the wings. That area was paved with bricks carved with the names of the units that had fought at Talisheek.

Two military vehicles were parked near it. And there were three dozen operatives on the ground and around the monument. Rutledge stood near the base of the wing on the left, with two other people in nonmilitary gear.

One was Phaedra Dupre. I didn’t recognize the other one—a shorter man with dark skin. If he was a Sensitive like Phaedra, did that mean there were only two locks left?

Wings fluttered, and Malachi landed behind us. “He has already unlocked some keys.”

“How do you know?” Liam asked.

“We are close to the Veil, and its fluctuations are obvious. It is wilder now, like a flag held by a single thread in a fierce wind. We must keep it closed.”

Rutledge opened a panel in the wing, pulled out a large gray box that glinted with gold. I guessed that was our prize.

There was a woman with Rutledge in green, but her back was to us. But when she turned, she looked much too familiar.

“Oh, damn,” Liam muttered.

It was Nix. Green dress, her magical mask thrown away to reveal her pointed ears, her faintly green skin, a golden staff in hand.

She stood beside Rutledge. He was telling her something. As though he was emphasizing his point, he turned, reached out, caressed her shoulder. She didn’t show any reaction to his touch. But longing was clear on his face.

“Double damn,” I murmured as the memory of her at the table in the store struck me. “She said she wanted to go home. He’s helping her open the Veil so she can do that.”

“Is she using him, or is he using her?” I wondered.

“Probably both,” Malachi said. “She has information and expertise, and wants to go through for personal reasons. He has personal feelings for her, but wants to open the Veil for financial and professional reasons. It is mutually beneficial.”

“And mutually repugnant,” I said, thinking of the trust we’d all put in her. “She put Broussard onto me,” I realized, and felt fury light inside my gut.

“Probably so,” Gavin said morosely.

I looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done,” he whispered fiercely, his features set and hard as ice. I’d seen Liam do the same thing—shut down his emotions. The Quinn boys were good at it.

“She is fallen,” Malachi said. “She is a traitor. Let it be heard and remembered.”

I reminded myself never to get on his bad side.

“The refinery isn’t safe,” Liam said. “She knew we were meeting there. We’ll need a new location.”

“We’ll discuss that after,” Malachi said. “For now, let’s focus on the task in front of us. He won’t know that Containment is on its way yet.” He walked forward, looked at me and Burke. “We have a few allies moving forward from Bogue Chitto, should the worst happen. But there are not many, and they may not be enough. We can’t wait.”

“So ‘hurry’ is what you’re saying,” Burke said.

Malachi nodded. “It would be best.”

“We’ve waited long enough,” Darby said. “Let’s do this,” and she pulled a handgun from a shoulder harness and held it like a pro.

“Gunnar, Gavin,” Malachi said. “Pull the outside guards right and away. Darby and I will take Rutledge and the operatives at the wing.”

“And Burke, Claire, and I will take the box,” Liam said.

Malachi nodded. “And may God have mercy on us all.”

? ? ?

Gavin and Gunnar began with a scream, a long and haunting yell as they emerged from the gate, immediately banked right, drawing off a couple of the guards. Darby and Malachi ran straight ahead toward Rutledge. He screamed out orders while Nix looked momentarily shocked, but then threw the male Sensitive to the ground toward the box, trying to get him to hurry.

I’d always thought there was something off about her.

“That’s our cue, kids,” Liam said. “Burke, you wanna work your magic?”

“On it,” he said, and his image fluttered and disappeared.

“Right up the middle to the box,” Liam said, talking to the spot where Burke probably was. “We’re right behind you.”

“On my way!” Burke said, and the only things that remained of him were the impressions he left in the grass.

We followed at a run, Liam at my side, gun drawn and shooting at operatives, as he kept an arm around me. I was, I thought, supposed to be saving my magic for whatever awaited me in that box. So I didn’t try to rip the weapon out of anyone’s hand, although I would have enjoyed seeing the look of magic-induced panic on their gun-wielding faces.

“I’ve got Nix,” Liam said, and I could hear that little revengy thread in his voice. He wasn’t just fighting for humans; he was fighting for his brother.

She met Liam with a bansheelike scream, thrusting her staff at him. He dodged it with a kick, aimed a punch at her side, which missed.

Burke came back into focus on his knees in front of the box. “Focus, Claire,” he said, snapping my gaze back to him and the terrified Sensitives.

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