The Veil Page 100


“The wolf doesn’t come out until midnight,” I said when the clock struck ten and she disappeared into the workings again.

“Some werewolves came through the Veil,” Liam said. “At least, I’m pretty sure I saw one. I was at the Arsenaults’ cabin—one of the last nights I spent there.”

“Because of the werewolf infestation?” I asked.

“You joke,” he said with one of his surprising, dimpled grins. “Wait until you’ve seen the horde descending on you.”

“They are monsters in both worlds,” Nix agreed. “And friends of neither.”

That was good to know. I made a note to check the phases of the moon next time I wandered around in the dark.

Liam stood. “We should go. I want to take a look around the Garden District again. We still haven’t found two male wraiths.”

This time, I didn’t offer to go. I needed some space, and Liam and I being in close quarters again wasn’t going to help.

Gavin pushed back his chair, rose. “Get some sleep,” he said. “You’re going to need it after the work you did.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Nix followed him to the door, then Liam. I blew out the candles—I knew the store well enough to move around it in the dark—and met them at the threshold.

There was a small card on the floor in front of the door, apparently slipped into the mail slot. It was a business card. The cream stock was old and worn at the edges. KING SUGAR COMPANY was written across it in tidy block letters, along with an address in Chalmette. That was downriver, and the spot where the original Battle of New Orleans had been fought.

There was a note on the card: LIAM AND CLAIRE, MIDNIGHT.

“What’s that?” Liam asked.

“I think it’s an invitation,” I said, and handed it to him.

Liam glanced at it, flipped it over to check both sides, then passed the card to Gavin.

“King Sugar Company?” Gavin asked, handing the card to Nix. “That’s the one along the river?”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “It went out of business, but the buildings are still there. I guess someone’s decided to start using them again.” When Nix handed the card back to Liam, he ripped it in half, then again, then again, and walked back into the kitchen. I heard the water running, and assumed he put them down the drain.

“You don’t want to go?” I asked when he came back again.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “But I know I don’t want someone to find that. Even accidentally.” He put his hands on his hips, looked at Gavin. “What do you think?”

Gavin shrugged. “If it’s a trap, there’d have been much easier ways to do it. They could have just walked into the store.”

Liam nodded, considering, then looked at Nix. “Do you think this is from Consularis Paras?”

“I don’t know. There are other Consularis who are not incarcerated. But I don’t know of this request.”

Liam looked at me. “What do you think?”

“I think we have to go.” I wouldn’t deny that I was tired, but the card was pretty energizing.

Liam considered. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

•   •   •

I was starting to get used to the noises and knocks of Liam’s truck. But he was much more cautious tonight than he’d been in the Garden District.

Every few minutes, he glanced up, checked the rearview mirror. He wanted to be sure we weren’t being followed. I could guess why—to be doubly sure we weren’t heading into a trap.

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