“Don’t leave me! Don’t l-leave—”

The night air was thick and hot when he went outside. He glanced around, scanning the streets. He couldn’t take any chances. When he was sure the area was clear, he hurried back to his truck.

He knew better than to leave any evidence behind. The container went into the bed of his pickup. He ditched his gloves and changed into a fresh shirt.

When he went back inside, Larry’s sobs filled the air. Loud. Wet. Desperate.

He pulled out his match and lit it with a quick swipe against the wall. The flame flickered in front of him. So small.

He grabbed the brown bag he’d brought from his truck. Smiling, he ignited the top of the bag.

Fire could grow so fast.

As fast as Larry’s hope faded.

“Don’t, p-please…”

He bent toward the line of pooled fluid. “Maybe they’ll save you.” He tossed down the burning bag and stepped away as the flames grew.

“Don’t! Fuck, n-no!”

“And maybe they won’t.” He hurried back as the flames flared fast and raced across the trail of accelerant. Soon enough, the flames would drown out Larry’s screams.

He’d have to hurry so he could get to his hiding spot and enjoy a nice, clear view of the show.

Because it was gonna be good.

“So that’s his game,” Lora said, easing back. “He traps the victims, lights the fires, lets them watch death come—”

“And he calls in the firefighters.” Why? Because he wanted them to save the victims? That didn’t make sense. Kenton shook his head. He’d need Monica on this. She could work up a profile and help him figure out what the hell was driving the guy.

“You don’t get it.” Bitterness coated her words. “He sets it up as a race, but there’s no chance for us to win. Even if we get the vic, he won’t let everyone survive. In his fires, someone dies. Someone always has to die—that’s just the way he plays.”

A death game.

Sick f**k.

CHAPTER Three

Kenton followed Lora outside. She kept her keys gripped tightly in her hand, and she walked with quick, long strides.

But then she stopped and turned to face him.

A few other folks were in the parking lot. A guy had his date up on the hood of his Vette. His arms were locked around her, and his mouth crushed hers. Kenton caught the flash of a badge. Figured, the place had smelled of cops.

A car door slammed. Two men strode toward the bar.

A woman eased out of the heavy doors.

“There’s something you should know…” Lora began, voice grim.

His brows raised.

“Carter and I—”

He waited, because he’d known this was coming. It was the way she said the guy’s name. The softness that whispered in her voice. It told him they’d been—

“We were involved.”

“Lovers.” His voice was flat.

Her eyes widened, reflecting the moonlight. “Yeah, yeah, we were.”

She’d buried her lover. Lost him to the fire.

And gone back to battle the flames.

“It’s been six months, and the guy hasn’t struck again. Could be he’s moved on or could be he’s lying low, waiting for his next strike.” Lora rocked forward on her heels. “But I was tired of waiting for this case to break. Carter needed justice.”

Carter? Or her? “What makes you so sure the fire on LeRoy wasn’t set by your guy?”

“At first, I thought it might be him, even though there was no 911 call. A liquid accelerant was used, and the vic was locked in the closet. But my guy—the guy we’re after—he doesn’t kill first. He lets the fire do the dirty work for him.”

Yeah, he’d been thinking about that, and he’d realized… “He’d kill if he wanted to make damn sure the victim didn’t survive.” Jerome had called the Bureau with a tip about an arson fire in Charlottesville. Jerome had lived near Charlie Skofield, and the guy had said he wanted to cash out on what he’d seen the night of that fire.

Jerome had been ready to cash out, all right; then the poor bastard had been trapped in a blaze.

Kenton didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Why? Why that guy?” Lora demanded. “I don’t—”

He wasn’t going to tell her. Not yet. Because while he needed her knowledge, he didn’t trust her.

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.

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 a**hole 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 a**hole!” 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.

But she always won. She took out his prey, burning so brightly, charring the flesh of his victims and sending the guilty to hell.

He stared down at the swirling lights. The running firemen.

Lora.

And Lora—she stared right back. A woman who knew the touch of fire better than she knew a lover’s touch.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear Lora’s screams. She’d tried so hard to save her lover. Gone right back into the flames with him.

The others had run out, but she’d run in. And then dragged out a body.

The screams had come, when she couldn’t get the man to breathe. The choked sobs that wouldn’t stop.

Even when they hauled the body away. Poor Lora.

She looked so lovely by firelight.

“I want in that building,” Kenton growled. “I need to check the scene.”

They were back at Mickey’s. Three hours had passed since the flames had eaten their way through the walls and the roof of 419 Byron Street. The fire was out. All of the old houses near the fire scene had been thoroughly searched.

No sign of their pyro.

Lora turned off her car. “Tomorrow—” She broke off, shaking her head. What time was it? “Today, the arson team will go in first. But we should be able to get in maybe around two or three.” Once Seth and his guys had given the all-clear.

“I’ll go in with the team.” The scent of smoke clung to Kenton, filling the interior of her car. “And you’ll go with me.”

“Seth isn’t gonna like that.” The guy was more than territorial.

“Screw what he likes. From here on out, this is my show.”

Another man with a territory complex. “Have it your way, Special Agent.”

He turned on her, fast, and Lora realized that her car was way too small for the two of them.

“Keep it up, Spade. Keep pushing.”

’Cause, yeah, that’s what she was doing. Pushing. Sparring. So what? That was the way she worked.

“I’m calling my boss when dawn hits,” he said. Dawn wasn’t far away. She could already see the pink hues lighting the sky in the distance. “I’m getting a profiler down here. I’m going to rip apart every case the arson unit has worked on—and I’m going to make damn sure we haven’t missed another one of this guy’s hits.”

Now that was what she’d been hoping to hear. “Good.”

“If I’m right about this perp, and he’s been watching the scenes, then he’s seen you, Lora. He knows every man on your team. A guy like this—he wouldn’t take chances. He’d know you all.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Because it hit too close to the weird feelings she’d had lately. Watching.