The top said nothing of the sort.

“But not so you’d get that at first glance,” Mos said. He flipped over the pages, folded it once longwise about a third of the way across, then again. When he turned it back, he folded the flap again, hiding some of the letters in the middle.

“Cheap way of encrypting,” he said. “Effective if you don’t do print.” He grinned with sharp teeth, turned the list toward us again. “But ineffective if you do.”

It became readable. And it became a list of three columns: name, location, power.

“Oh, damn,” I murmured through the horror. “It’s a list of Sensitives. Probably the ones who worked with PCC during the war.”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Their persons of interest.” He flipped to the second page, reoriented the folds so the names lined up, scanned them. “I count forty-three names in total. And they’ve been working through the list.”

He was right. The first two dozen names had lines through them; they’d been marked off the list. Marla Salas was right in the middle, her name struck through. And we knew what had become of her.

“Damn it, Liam—she wasn’t saying ‘contact.’” I looked at him. “She was saying ‘ComTac.’ She was trying to let us know. She was communicating with us.”

Liam’s eyes widened, and he stared down at the paper. It was the first proof we’d had that wraiths really were capable of communication. “Damn,” he said quietly. “ComTac is trying to open the Veil. They have to investigate each one. Eliminate them one by one to find out if they had the encryption keys.”

I looked back on the list, scanned through for names that looked familiar, as if I’d somehow be able to match up the wraiths I’d seen with the Sensitives on the list.

And on my second pass through, I saw it.

“Oh my God.”

Liam’s gaze snapped to mine in alarm. “What?”

The names had been crossed out in order—one after another. And the next two names on the list, the ones that hadn’t yet been crossed out, were frighteningly familiar. I knew them.

Phaedra Dupre Chenal Conduct magic

Zana Dupre Chenal Call animals

“This is Tadji’s family,” I said, looking up at Liam. “Her mom and aunt. Is Chenal in Acadiana?”

“Yeah. Pointe Coupee Parish, I think.” He frowned. “Why?”

“She said she wasn’t sure where they were—that they moved around a lot—but she told me she grew up somewhere in Acadiana.”

“That a friend of yours?” Mos asked.

“My best friend.” I turned to Liam. “We have to warn her, and we have to get them out.”

It only took Liam a moment to realize the implication, what they were in line for.

“We’re going right now,” he said, and put a hand at my back to guide me to the door. But he looked back at Moses.

“Take care of yourself, Mos. If this is ComTac, or even if it isn’t, they’re willing to hurt people. I don’t want you to be one of the people hurt. Hell, we’ve probably put you in danger just by coming in here.”

“People come in, come out, all the time. You’re no different.” His voice was gruff, but I saw the understanding in his eyes. “I’ll be careful like I always am. You take care of yourself and Red. And you let me know what you find out.”

We left Moses to his store and ran for the gate.

•   •   •

Ten sprinting minutes later, we were back in front of my store, where Liam had parked his truck. We climbed back in and flew toward Tadji’s cottage.