“Right.” Quentin’s gaze was once more roaming about them, sharp without appearing to be. “Problem is, other than Hollis picking up what she did, none of us seem to be sensing the psychics here, certainly not as individuals. Might know one if we come face-to-face, but other than that all we’re getting is static. Though Bishop did say he and Miranda could pick up some thoughts from some people who were physically close, but nothing like their usual percentage.”

“Dammit. What time is it?”

Quentin was one of the rare SCU members who could wear a watch most of the time, in large part because he was solely a receiver and his visions were, thankfully, rare beasts. Checking his watch, he answered, “Nearly five. I’m a little surprised it isn’t already dark in this valley, even with daylight savings time going, but it will be in another hour.”

Diana glanced up at the gray and brooding sky, wondering again if there was a winter storm looming. Maybe that was why she suddenly felt colder than she had only moments before.

Maybe.

—

THE CROW SETTLED silently onto the bare branch of a big oak just seconds after the human pair passed the tree and continued along the faint path, still talking quietly to each other. He watched them, head turning alertly this way and that, black eyes fixed on them.

On, especially, the woman.

She walked with the dead. He knew that. She walked with the dead, and that made her far more akin to the crows than she knew.

Than any of them knew.

It also made her a threat.

He opened his beak to emit a very soft sound, inaudible from only feet away. He watched the pair disappear around a bend in the path, and stretched out his wings and beat the air soundlessly, then lifted off and flew silently just far enough to perch in another tree and keep them in sight.

—

“WE’RE MOSTLY HAMSTRUNG in the dark, especially in a mountain valley we aren’t familiar with, hunting a killer we wouldn’t recognize if we fell over him,” Quentin said to Diana. “So I’m betting the unsub is playing the odds there, doing his . . . work . . . as late in the day as he can. Especially since Finn was clear about nobody being out after dark except his deputies in pairs, and even then not on the slopes.”

“Which means we’ll all have to head back in soon.” Diana’s voice was restless, and she kept glancing up at the leaden sky. “Maybe if I tried the gray time—”

But Quentin was shaking his head. “We agreed. We all agreed that you shouldn’t try that yet. Especially with Hollis up on one of these mountains with Reese. He still might be able to pick up on the victim or the unsub. Which means he doesn’t need to be distracted, much less completely focused on Hollis, and if she’s as wide-open—at least to emotions—as she says she is, I’m betting she’d be pulled in with you.”