“I’m sure they’ll try.”

“My brother, declaring independence from the world.” He shook his head. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Is he ever?” asked Lena.

“You have no idea.” I rubbed my forehead, thinking of the various reports and emails waiting on my desk. “I’ve got three different proposals for starting a school. The vampires are negotiating with local cattle farmers for a steady blood supply. Vegas jacked up water and sewage prices. My research team is squabbling over office space again. Now that I’ve kicked out most of the DHS and NIH folks, we need to completely revamp our oversight process. Then there’s negotiating with different countries about setting up additional New Millennium sites around the world. I’m tempted to drop Smudge on top of the paperwork and let him deal with it.”

Lex tugged her mother’s hand. “Can I go play tag with the werewolves?”

Angie paled. Toby winced. They both looked at me.

“She’ll be fine,” I assured them. “Those two are from the pack in the U.P. They know me, and they know what will happen if they hurt anyone. Especially my niece. They’ll be as gentle with her as they would a newborn pup.”

“Thanks!” Lex took off before her parents could speak. Toby and Angie both started running after her.

“Have fun,” I yelled.

Toby turned long enough to shout, “Mom and Dad said to call them!”

“I will!”

I wished they could stay longer, but we needed the room. The Metrodora Medical Tower was ninety percent full, with more patients arriving daily. I had a team poring through our catalogs, searching for the most efficient healing magic and technologies for the influx of disease and injury. We only accepted patients who couldn’t be helped by mundane medicine, but their numbers were in the millions.

It was overwhelming, but we’d figure it out. This was magic, after all. The possibilities were limitless.

My name is Isaac Vainio. Until a week ago, I was the Director of Research for New Millennium.

Johannes Gutenberg never believed humanity could accept magic and those of us who use it. He feared humanity would use magic as a weapon of war. That you would work to enslave or destroy us. Looking at the events of the past few months, I can hear his “I told you so” as if he were standing right beside me.

Gutenberg was right. He was also wrong.

One year ago, I wrote a letter to the world, a revelation of magic. Today, I write a declaration.

We’ve been here for millennia. We’re not your enemies. We’re your friends and family. Your neighbors, whether you knew we were there or not. And we’re not going anywhere.