The Sight by Chloe Neill Page A

me. “You’re sounding very optimistic.”
    â€œWe’ve got a prison full of Paras who shouldn’t be in there, a magical curtain that could split at any time, and a group of humans who think the way to fix the Zone is to kill everyone and everything in it.” I looked at Liam. “It’s almost certainly going to get worse before it gets better, so might as well hope for the better to get here sooner rather than later.”
    Moses’s eyes narrowed. “There may have been logic in that, but if so, it was buried deep, deep down.”
    Liam smiled at me. “That’s a redhead for you.”
    â€”
    â€œDon’t be such a stranger,” Moses said, when we said our good-byes. He looked up at me with those gleaming green eyes. “But also don’t be killed by xenophobic idiots.”
    â€œI will try to not do both of those things,” I promised.
    â€œYou should probably send a pigeon,” Liam said when we walked downstairs. “Tell Delta what’s happened, and what might be coming. Like you said, it will probably get worse before it gets better.”
    In the Zone, things seemed to work that way.

CHAPTER FIVE
    I ’d expected to walk into Royal Mercantile, find the store dark and empty, Tadji behind the counter reading a book, waiting impatiently for me to come back.
    Instead, she stood in front of a counter that was now dotted with displays and racks of product. In her beautiful, waving script she’d made pretty signs that now hung from the ceiling and pointed customers to different areas of the store.
    And that wasn’t the only difference. Business had always been steady; the customers knew me, and there just weren’t a lot of options. But even as the sun set, when most remaining NOLA residents would be returning home for the night, there were a dozen people milling around the store, carrying wicker baskets to hold their goods—baskets I recognized from the storage room.
    In the half dozen hours that we’d been gone, she’d turned Royal Mercantile into a bustling retail establishment.
    â€œDamn,” Liam said quietly as the bell strap on the door rang our arrival. “Even Mos would be impressed by this.”
    I was sure Liam was right. I had clearly not been giving my best friend enough capitalistic credit. So why did I have an angry clench in my belly, irritation at the sheer number of people in the store, and anger that she’d rearranged it—and better than I ever had?
    Tadji’s head lifted at the sound of the bells, and she said something to a customer at the counter, then hurried around it to get to us.
    â€œThank God,” she said, looking us over. “I was frantic. You’re all right?”
    â€œWe’re fine,” Liam said when I didn’t answer.
    â€œI’ve been getting reports from people about what happened.” Her eyes darkened with anger. “It was Reveillon, wasn’t it?”
    â€œThat’s what it looks like,” Liam said, “but Containment’s still investigating. It’s going to take time to piece everything together.”
    â€œYour grandmother?” Tadji asked.
    â€œShe’s fine. Thanks for asking.”
    Tadji nodded, shifted her gaze to me, and I could feel her eagerness, which only made me more irritated.
    â€œI hope you don’t mind,” she said, waving a hand at the store. “I was antsy, and I needed something to do, and this was the least destructive thing I could think of.” She looked around. “I tried to think like a customer and, I guess, take everything up a notch.” She looked back at me, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “I’ve got some more ideas, too, actually.”
    â€œUh-huh,” was all I said.
    She frowned at me, the enthusiasm shifting to concern. “Are you all right?”
    I wasn’t. I was suddenly itching with irritation, with anger, and I had no idea why. And