The psychic stain on the empty lab floor was a painful mark that only Jonah and Vanessa could see. It was the one clue the Bureau couldn't erase.
"So, they made one," Draven's voice was a low, dangerous rumble from the driver's seat. "And they moved it. The trail is gone."
"Maybe not," Jonah said, his eyes still closed, his mind connected to the tiny, invisible Progeny floating in the sterile chamber miles away.
Seraph turned, her expression hard. "What are you thinking, Jonah? They scrubbed that place. Physically, magically, there's nothing left."
"But they left a digital ghost," Jonah countered, opening his eyes. "They had to have records. Shipping manifests, transfer orders, project notes. They're professionals, which means they keep logs. And even if they deleted them…"
