The Veil
Page 65

 Chloe Neill

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Gunnar looked back at Liam, nodded. “I’d appreciate it. You’ll know more about them than any of us. And you’re welcome to the bounty if you can find them.”
Liam shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make sure your sister is safe, and go from there.”
“Why don’t I stay here,” Tadji suggested, “get things cleaned up? I can lock up the store or stay until you get back.”
“I could stay, too,” Burke said. “I’d be happy to help.”
I could see Tadji’s internal war—she’d rather be alone than deal with an uncomfortable assistant—but she was gracious enough to know that this wasn’t about her, but Gunnar and his family. And it probably wasn’t a good idea for her to be here alone, just in case.
She nodded. “That’d be great, Burke. Thank you.”
So as Burke and Tadji began to clear things from the table, we worked out the transportation. Campbell had driven, so he’d take me, Gunnar, and Liam to the house.
For now, that was plan enough.
•   •   •
Campbell had an old-fashioned, military-style jeep. Two seats in front, a bench in back, the doors open. The vehicle had been stripped of most electronics since they weren’t reliable anyway. It wasn’t pretty, but it was as solid as you could get in the Zone.
“Tell us what happened,” Liam said when we’d climbed into the back, and Gunnar and Campbell had taken the front.
“Emme was on her way home from school. She’s a sophomore at Tulane,” he added, glancing in the rearview mirror to meet our gazes.
“She has a car, gets home around the same time most days, and Zach keeps an eye out for her.”
“Zach?” Liam asked.
“My younger brother,” Gunnar said.
Campbell nodded. “He checked the window, saw them—two male wraiths.”
Liam and I exchanged a glance. It didn’t take much to imagine they were the same wraiths I’d fought the night before. But we wouldn’t know that for sure unless we found them.
“They attacked her when she got out of the car. Zach ran out to help her, used a flare gun to scare them off, but not before they got violent.”
Flare guns were popular in New Orleans during and after the war. When phones didn’t work, you could send up a flare to signal emergency or to alert Containment crews.
“He got her inside, and your father helped her.”
Campbell turned the vehicle onto St. Charles Avenue. Before the war, St. Charles had been the primary street on the New Orleans star tour—the street where the famous writer had lived, the actor, the chef, the former senator. They’d celebrated their money with architectural grandeur, not that it was worth much now.
It was a four-lane road separated by a median of streetcar tracks, what we called the “neutral ground.” Both sides of the street and the neutral ground had once been lined with trees, including tons of live oaks planted after the storm. Some had been knocked down in battle. Others had died when magic seeped into the soil, or when humans had cut them down to make firewood.
The neighborhood’s mansions, businesses, and high-rises hadn’t fared much better. Many had been leveled, especially near Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, where there’d been heavy fighting during the Second Battle.
“What happened to the wraiths?” Liam asked.
“I don’t know,” Campbell said. “I guess Zach scared them off?”
If it was the same two wraiths that I’d seen in the Quarter, that was two nights in a row they’d attacked and been scared off. I didn’t think we’d stay that lucky for much longer.