“Nellie can.”

“Well, yeah, but—” Finn stared at him for a moment, then said somewhat warily, “You’re dangerous.”

“Sorry,” Bishop said, not really sounding it.

“Please tell me that’s not a . . . transparent thing to anybody but you.” He was ignoring the tinge of heat that had crept into his cheeks.

“Probably not.” Bishop appeared to think about it, either not noticing or more likely ignoring the other man’s reaction. “Although, again, maybe to Hollis. But, if so, she won’t say anything about it.” He thought a moment longer. “Publicly.”

“Good,” Finn muttered, not quite under his breath.

Miranda came into the sitting room to join them then, saying mildly, “We keep our own shields up generally, and probing just to find out if we can isn’t encouraged and isn’t common. But then, neither is Salem. Common, I mean.”

“But,” Finn said, turning his gaze to her, “since we’re reasonably sure our potential killer is already here . . .”

She nodded. “Best to probe now and then as we go along. All of us, in our own unique ways. It won’t be intrusive, unless any of us finds something suspicious. You were thinking a question a little while ago, so it was easier for Noah to pick up on it.”

It occurred to Finn only then that what Bishop knew, his wife and partner knew as well. Finn had picked up on their extraordinary bond the very first time he’d been in the presence of both, sensing it was both deeper and more complex than any outsider could possibly understand.

Miranda sent him a quick smile. And had he been susceptible to sheer beauty, Finn probably would have felt his toes curling in his shoes, because Bishop’s wife was drop-dead gorgeous even before she smiled.

Luckily for his composure—and for the working relationship with Bishop—Finn was appreciative without being at all drawn these days.

Equally mild, Bishop said, “Quite a few of the townsfolk will probably be thinking about questions, certainly about us, but how many of them we’ll be able to pick up is something we’ll just have to wait to find out.”

Finn nodded but said, “Outside the Five, shielding varies widely among the psychics here. Naturally.”

Miranda said, “But inside the Five, you’re all accustomed to shielding pretty much all the time.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Miranda said, “it being more likely we’ll be able to read psychics outside the Five—”

“—may or may not mean a damned thing in terms of being helpful,” Bishop finished.

FIVE

He knew the feds were in Salem. He’d known long before they had arrived. They’d been invited, after all.

Not that it mattered.

In fact, he viewed their arrival as something of a challenge. After all, he’d laid his plans long ago. And now he was acting on those plans.

Sooner than they expected, he was sure. Because word was out that one of the Blackwoods had reported a farseeing, and that was what had drawn the feds here. Details of the warning were garbled, and growing wilder by the hour.