The Veil

He walked toward me, looked me over. It was warm out, and Liam smelled like hard work and clean sweat. “You’re all right?”


I looked at him, tried to sound totally nonchalant, which was definitely not how I felt. I was relieved, more than I should have been, to see him standing there. “I’m fine. Your favorite Containment agent came by yesterday with a warrant to search for Magic Act violations. Seems to think I’ve been having secret Sensitive meetings here.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d he get that idea?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Gunnar didn’t know, either.” I looked around. “He helped me get things cleaned up. It doesn’t look like we made much of a dent, but we actually got quite a bit done.”

“Is it possible someone saw us at the refinery?” Liam asked.

“Maybe? My best bet is that it’s someone who wants to open the Veil and is working really hard to keep Containment distracted. And Jack Broussard, who is most definitely a tool, is a very good tool for that. I didn’t see him today. Maybe he’s cooled off.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

I nodded. “What about you?”

“I’ve been hunting,” he said, and I realized there was a faint shadow on his left cheekbone.

He hadn’t asked me to go. It didn’t surprise me to learn he’d wanted space. Hell, right now, even though part of me wanted him around all the time, I needed space. I wanted that beach scene Burke had mentioned, and a few hours of sunlit oblivion. I wasn’t sure either of us was having very good luck with that.

“Caught me with an elbow,” Liam explained. “Male wraith in Irish Channel.”

That was between the river and the Garden District. “He was one of Delta’s Sensitives?”

“He was. Lizzie’s got him now.”

I nodded. “Best place for him,” I said, but knew that wasn’t saying much.

“Speaking of Delta, do you want to go see Moses?”

“He found something?”

Liam nodded. “I’m not sure what, but I got a message he had something he wanted me to see. I’m headed back to Devil’s Isle, thought I’d see if you wanted to go with.”

I grimaced, gestured toward the still-disorganized store. “Do you think it’s safe for me to go in there right now?”

Liam considered. “You’re also supposed to be my trainee.” He pulled out a laminated card. “And I got you a transit pass.”

I took it, checked the print on both sides. It looked legit. “How did you manage this?”

“Like I said, I have friends in PCC. I didn’t know about the store—about what Broussard did—but I think going proves you aren’t afraid of Containment, or of being in Devil’s Isle. That says you’ve got nothing to hide from Containment or anyone else. I think that’s our strongest defense.”

“And how do we explain our visit to go see Moses?”

Liam smiled. “I’m a bounty hunter; he’s got information. We’re still trying to figure out where the wraiths are coming from, which is completely legitimate.”

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?”

“My good looks are exceeded only by my brains.”

“And your humility.”

He grinned. “I’ve got no need for humility.”

He had me there.

Since organizing literal nuts and bolts didn’t sound any better, I opted for the field trip.

? ? ?

I served a few last customers, then closed the shop a little early and locked it up. We walked down Royal. There were a few strollers out tonight, men and women that I recognized from the neighborhood or the store walking in the same direction as we were. The reason rang through the air the closer we got to Jackson Square.

“Memorial in Song,” Liam said as we reached the wrought-iron fence. We walked to the gate, looked inside. A hundred people stood in the Square singing “Over in the Gloryland.”

It had taken four days after the Second Battle to arrange for a memorial for the folks who’d died. Every year, just as we celebrated the victory of War Night, New Orleanians gathered in the square four days later to mourn those who were lost. They’d sing hymns until darkness fell, and then they’d light candles and sing until the wicks burned down, until the square was left in darkness again.

It had been so crazy since War Night, I’d totally forgotten about the memorial. I couldn’t carry a tune, but I loved being so close to something so beautiful. It made me feel, just for a little while, closer to my dad.

“Can we stand here for a minute?” I asked, closing my eyes and letting the voices wash over me. “Just for a minute.”

I could feel Liam’s gaze on me, looking, questioning. And then he settled in beside me. “Of course we can,” he said, and he began to hum along.

? ? ?

As it turned out, Liam could sing pretty well. We listened for two more songs, swaying to the music before we turned back to our task.

Hawkins was at the gate again. If there were standing orders to look at me sideways, he didn’t act on them. He scanned our IDs without comment, and didn’t say anything until the warning speech.

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