Kenton trusted his team at the SSD. And no one else.

A loud burst of music broke the night. Hard-hitting rock. His eyes narrowed because the music was coming from Lora.

Lora yanked out her phone. “Spade.” Her breath sucked in. “Shit. Okay, I’m on my way.”

He caught the tremble of her fingers. “What’s going on?”

“Fire. Looks like our guy’s back in the game.”

Kenton wasn’t sure that he’d ever left. “How do you know it’s him? Fires do happen, you know. It doesn’t have to be—”

“The jerkoff called it in, said the chief had to hurry.” She was already whirling around to run away, but he easily heard her last words. “The bastard said to hurry because the vic didn’t have much time.”

Damn.

Kenton ran after her and caught her arm. “Sweetheart, no way in hell you’re leaving me behind.”

Partners. For now.

The building was still burning when Lora braked to a stop on Byron Street. Firefighters scrambled, some dragging the long hose toward the building. The cops were there, keeping the perimeter blocked, though no one stood in the street. No watchers this time.

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Not in this neighborhood.

Lora jumped from her car, then slammed the door with a hard thud. “Chief!” Frank was there, close to the truck, with his head down. He started at her call and spun around.

“I don’t see the victim,” Kenton muttered from beside her.

The flames shot higher.

“Pull back!” Frank snarled into his radio. “Every damn one of you, pull back.”

The fire licked at the night sky. The yellow flames twisted and turned while the thick, black smoke billowed in the air.

“Gasoline,” she whispered. “This time, he used gasoline as the accelerant.”

“What?” Kenton asked immediately. “How do you know that?”

“The color of the smoke.” She pointed to the fire. “And the yellow flames. Those are two damn good indicators.” Firefighters learned early on to match up the smoke and fire color with the accelerants.

Two firefighters ran out of the building.

Sometimes they don’t make it out.

“Carter!” The echo of that scream was in her mind, and God, she’d screamed his name for so long. Screamed and begged, but he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t answered her.

“Lora, get him the f**k back!” Frank’s snarl snapped her attention back to the present, and she grabbed Kenton’s expensive shirt.

“Not safe, GQ.” She yanked him with her. She shouldn’t have brought him inside the perimeter line, but dammit, she hadn’t been thinking. She’d jumped from the car, run for the chief—

And Kenton had been right beside her.

Lora licked her lips. “We’ve got to move!”

Those flames were rolling, tightening, and spreading too fast. She knew the signs; she knew what was coming even before she heard the loud groan as the roof gave way.

“Shit!” She shoved him, knocking him to the ground as debris shot into the air.

Even this far away, she could have sworn she felt the lick of that heat on her skin.

You never forgot the touch of fire.

Her hands slammed into the earth, and she raised up, trying to get a look at the agent. “You okay?”

The scream of another siren blasted. The backup truck had arrived. Thank God.

Kenton let out a groan. A frown pulled his brows low as he stared up at her. “Damn, sweetheart, you hit hard.”

She had three older brothers, and they’d taught her to tackle long ago. “You’re welcome.”

His face was close to hers. The guy had a line of stubble starting to grow along that hard, fierce jaw.

His eyes glinted. Her br**sts were pressed tight against his chest. All muscle. So that was what he hid behind his fancy clothes. Strength.

And…

Her leg shifted. Made contact. Okay. No room to hide that.

She jerked back, then stumbled to her feet. “Just—ah… stay low.” Lora spun away from him, sucking in a deep breath.

The other team had their hose ready now, and they launched another attack on the blaze.

Lora and Kenton headed behind the second fire truck. Cover, just in case.

Frank ran toward her. “Dammit, Spade, you know better than to bring a civilian into—”

“Where’s the vic?” Kenton snapped, cutting across the words. Ah, some anger there. Probably didn’t like being called a civilian.

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “What do you—”

“Chief—he’s the agent Hyde sent.” Lora jumped in. “He’s here to find the bastard doing this.”

Frank knew what was happening in this town. He’d connected the dots after the second blaze.

“Where’s the vic?” Kenton pressed.

“He didn’t make it.” Frank wrenched off his helmet and threw it against the truck, revealing the gleaming scalp of his bald head. “The poor ass**le never had a chance.”

“He was cuffed.”

At the gruff words, Lora turned and saw that another firefighter had marched up behind them. Rick Suvalis stood to the right, his tall frame stooped, ash and soot covering him. “I—I saw him, right before the roof—” His dark gaze shot to Lora, then away. “The guy was already dead, but I saw… he was cuffed to the radiator. I–I think it blew, when the fire hit. There must have been some—”

“I’m tired of this ass**le!” Frank’s hands clenched. “I could have lost men in this blaze. This isn’t some f**king game.”

“It is to him.” Kenton shifted slightly, and his gaze swept the street. “That’s exactly what it is.”

There was a tense note in his voice. An alertness. “Kent?”

But he strode over to two cops and flashed his badge. “Get backup out here, ASAP,” Lora heard him say. “We’re searching these houses.” He pointed to the broken row of boarded-up windows and doors.

She hurried to his side. “What’s going on?”

Hard lines were etched on the sides of his mouth. “It’s his game, Lora. A game I’m betting he likes to watch.”

She stared at those windows again. Here. The guy could be right here.

Bracing her legs apart, she stared into the darkness and wondered who watched.

• • •

Too late. He rocked backward on his heels, and his hands tightened around the binoculars. The fire had won again.