The Sight by Chloe Neill

hundred-foot radius. And they had enough time and wherewithalto get all that done and convince each other that death—theirs and others’—was worth it. That the cause was worth dying for. They won’t stop until they’re satisfied.”
    â€œWill they ever be?” I asked.
    â€œMaybe not,” Liam said. “At the very least, there’s more destruction to come.” He leaned forward, linked his hands on the table, and looked at his grandmother. “I think it may be time for you to leave Devil’s Isle.”
    â€œNo.” Eleanor’s answer was quick and brooked no argument. “Absolutely not.”
    â€œIt’s dangerous here,” Liam insisted. “And now with Reveillon—”
    â€œIt’s dangerous for
everyone
,” Eleanor finished. “As much as I appreciate your looking out for me, this is where I belong.” She looked at Moses. “I am magic, just like every other Para, wraith, and Sensitive in here.”
    Moses nodded. “Damn right you are.” It was clear he meant it as a compliment.
    â€œBesides, there’s no reason to think I’m any more of a target than anyone else.”
    â€œEveryone is a target,” Liam insisted.
    â€œAnd are you going to get everyone else out?”
    That question hung in the air, stained with guilt.
    â€œNo,” Liam said. “I don’t have that power.”
    â€œThen I stay where I belong.” Eleanor crossed her thin arms, set her jaw. There was determination in her eyes that belied her age, her apparent delicacy.
    Liam breathed in and out for a moment, staring down his formidable grandmother. Two generations, testing their wills against each other.
    â€œAll right,” Liam said, sitting back again. “But I don’t like it.”
    Eleanor grinned. “You don’t have to, dear.”
    â€œHardheaded,” he muttered.
    â€œDamn right,” she said, chin lifted. “I am no simpering miss.”
    â€œI would certainly never accuse you of that.”
    â€œMaybe we could come at this another way,” I said. “Educate Reveillon about how they’re wrong.” I looked at Moses. “Getting rid of Paranormals—even if they walked right back through the Veil again—wouldn’t really change anything, would it? Clean the soil, for example?”
    Moses rubbed one of his horns. “No. Magic doesn’t belong in this world; I don’t think anybody would argue with that. But whether the magic comes from the Veil or the Paras, it’s already out there. Killing us isn’t going to change anything. Now, if these Reveillon assholes were smart, they’d talk to Paras about fixing the soil, the power grid. Making the damaged areas usable again.”
    My eyebrows lifted. “Do Paras know how to do that?”
    Moses shrugged. “I don’t know that anybody has tried. I’m guessing you’d have to use magic to fix magic, and that’s not something Containment wants to talk about.”
    Considering, Liam leaned back. “They also won’t talk about treating Paras as temporary allies, even against a group with an arsenal.”
    â€œWe have friends in Containment,” I pointed out. “Maybe they could use their influence, try to get Delta involved.” After all, Delta had been crucial to keeping the Veil closed at the Memorial Battle. And giving me hope that becoming a wraith wasn’t an inevitability.
    Moses snorted. “Red, I know you’ve only been recently indoctrinated to the church of the actual fucking truth, but to do that, they’d have to admit Paras aren’t all enemies, and Devil’s Isle is fundamentally unfair. They won’t do that.”
    â€œSooner or later,” I said, “they’ll have to. That’s just history. Kingdoms don’t last forever. People change, attitudes change. Maybe we can speed that process along.”
    Liam looked at