Bishop nodded but said, “They also possess shields unlike any we’ve ever encountered before. Most of us have learned over a lifetime, half a lifetime, even only a few years, to build our shields; the psychics of Salem have learned over generations.”

“Still, something we should probably try to understand,” DeMarco said slowly. “Maybe those special shields provide protection. Or blindness, even to a threat.” Since he himself possessed a unique double shield, he understood better than most both the pros and cons of a shield that could at times be too strong.

“We haven’t been invited,” Bishop repeated.

Quentin said, “And so we do nothing? Stand by and wait for the first victim to land at Finn Deverell’s feet?” He had learned to keep a tight rein on his native impatience over the years, but right now it was clearly threadbare.

“I didn’t say that,” Bishop responded.

“You always say to watch for signs,” Hollis reminded him, and said what Bishop had been expecting her to say. “That was a giant red warning flag from the Universe. We need to be in Salem.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that in the gray time,” Diana said.

Bishop didn’t comment on the elephant in the room: the holes in Diana’s memory due to the strong medications supposedly treating a “mental disorder” both mainstream doctors and her own father had not recognized (or had not wanted to recognize) as psychic abilities. She had drifted unaware through years, nearly half her life, and gaps in her memory still remained. How could she be certain she had never seen what she simply might not remember having seen?

Of all the agents at the table, Diana had the least experience in the field as an agent. On the other hand, she’d spent most of a lifetime learning to function in regular visits to her gray time, and no one doubted that experience—or the extraordinary strength that had allowed her to learn to use her abilities despite every effort to smother them.

Quentin spoke up before Bishop could respond. “Having a psychic like Deverell leading their law enforcement is a giant plus; we all know that. But even more than that, if what Diana and Hollis saw and were told is even half right, he’s in danger; his family is in danger. All of the five families are, and probably others as well. That town spawned one monster; what’s to stop it spawning another one?”

“Spawning another monster isn’t a possibility we can ignore,” Bishop said. “Given that particular town. Given the people there. Finn will listen, at least. Beyond that—”

The conference phone on the table rang, cutting him off.

Bishop reached for the phone, and a sudden flash of certainty made him hit the speaker button. “Bishop.”

A strong, steady voice came from the speaker. “Bishop, it’s Finn, in Salem. I have . . . a situation here.”

—

Salem

HE HAD BEEN watching Salem for a long time.

Watching, listening, learning. All his life, really. His mother, and before her his grandmother, had made sure he did. And made sure he never forgot.