“Anything…else.” I swallow the ache clogging my throat.

He cocks an eyebrow, then rakes his gaze over my dress. A sinful gleam alights behind his gaze to make me regret my words and then, with a groan, he drops to his haunches.

He grasps the flare of my hips, igniting a searing heat that threatens to burn me to ash as his palms travel painstakingly slow down my thighs. His fingers bunch the fabric, driving any rational response from my mind.

His hands stall above my knees, and I feel the pressure of his fingers…then cool air touches my skin as Kallum tears my dress down the seam. He grunts as he rips the material, leaving me with half a dress.

Mortification envelops me as I stare down. He discards the shredded lower half of my dress in the same shrub as he stands.

I grab the torn hem, a raw ache burning my throat.

Features shadowed by the dark, he inspects his handiwork appreciatively. “You do care,” he says. “And I care.” He moves in, and I’m unable to escape him before he clasps the back of my neck.

He pulls the hair tie free, letting my hair fall loose around my shoulders. Then, trailing his fingers up the curve of my neck, he touches one of the dangly earrings. “These distract from your eyes.” After he removes my earrings, he says, “Natural beauty should never compete with decorations.”

He places the earrings in my hand as he steps around me.

I stare at the silver jewelry in my palm, unable to move, feeling as if I’ve just been stripped naked by Kallum—and my body is betraying me.

Curling my fingers over the earrings, I give myself a moment to let the infuriating mix of emotions sear through my veins, then I throw them in the bushes. By the time I’ve caught up with Kallum, he has the front door open and reaches behind to grab my hand.

A shocked second where his fingers lace between mine, then he pulls me over the threshold and into a throng of undulating bodies.

Multi-colored lights strobe and pulse with the beat of the raging house music. The dense body heat coats my skin in a balmy wrap, making me partially grateful I’m not suffering the full coverage of the dress. Shouts and obnoxious laughter bleed over the music, and as we head deeper, the dim lighting obscures my vision.

But none of the distractions are enough to remove the heightened awareness of my hand in Kallum’s.

As we weave through the gathering in the main room, I’m met with bloodshot eyes and slack features. Despite crashing into several intoxicated dancers, no one really notices us. But I notice a familiar face on the edge of the crowd.

I tug at Kallum’s hand, and he looks back as I nod toward Devyn. “I’m going that way.”

Brow furrowed, he releases my hand. “I’ll find drinks.”

I won’t be ingesting anything from here. However, I refrain from telling him as much, using the much needed space away from him to breathe, even if it’s laced with vape smoke.

Devyn spots me, regarding me curiously as I weave a path toward her. She’s wearing civilian clothing. Jeans and a cropped blouse. Her hair is pulled back in a thick headband. She’s attractive and stylish, and she could pass for one of the teens. I lean in toward her ear. “Are you undercover?”

She laughs. “In this town? That’d be impossible,” she says, her voice pitched over the music. “I’m helping cover for a friend on the force. Someone called in a noise complaint.”

Eyebrow arched, I glance around. “Your approach doesn’t seem to be working.”

Her throaty laughter makes me smile. “This is the Lipton house,” she says, implying a common local knowledge. “The Liptons pretty much do what they want, and so do their entitled asshole offspring.” She nods to a tall blond guy who looks like he was DNA-coded to be a star quarterback. “I’m just here to make sure no one gets hurt and nothing burns.”

I nod toward her plastic cup. “And the incentive to babysit the prom king doesn’t hurt.”

“Oh, you’re a funny fed.” But her voice is playful, and when she laughs again, she holds up the plastic cup in mock toast. “To whatever gets us through the day.”

As I’m empty-handed, I tap her cup with my knuckles.

It’s been a long time since I was able to actually make a joke, or be around anyone I wanted to joke with. A familiar twinge blooms in the center of my chest, reminiscent of homesickness.

Shoving the sensation aside, I cast a look around the scene. “I haven’t seen Detective Emmons around town. Is he avoiding the feds?”

She lowers her cup as her features fall. “DNA on one of the remains was matched today,” she says. “Came back a positive ID to his brother.”

“Oh, my god.” I shake my head, not knowing how to respond. I recall his hostility at the crime scene, his reluctance to be there, and I now understand why. “I’m sorry,” is all I can manage.

She waves her hand, relieving me of the burden. And I wonder who went missing from her life, who she’s thinking about—hopeful, or dreading the outcome—every time a match is announced.

“So I take it you are undercover.” She switches the topic as she scans my wardrobe with interest.

“The sick dress gave me away, huh?” I lift the torn hem for emphasis.

“Look at you with the hipster lingo. You won’t stand out at all.”

A full laugh slips free, and my head catches a tiny buzz from the effect. Then, as an electric current zips across my flesh, I feel his eyes on me. I can sense him drawing near, and like a droplet of ink clouding water, Kallum’s presence permeates the air like a dark vapor.

“Want a drink?” Devyn asks, but then she spies Kallum circling back with a bottle in his hand. “Oh, this must be the consultant, and I think he has you covered…in more ways than one. Damn.” Her voice drops low as she makes an obvious point to check him out. “Well done, Halen.”

I should object, but my mouth goes dry at the way his heated gaze traps me.

“You made her laugh,” he says to Devyn, his eyes never straying from my face. “A difficult feat to pull off.” He then turns his attention on Devyn. “I’m Kallum.”

“I know who you are.” Devyn apprises him with a smirk. “I’ve heard rumors.”

The panty-melting grin he pulls off should be illegal. “Well, rumors are entertaining, but only Halen and I know the truth.” He winks at me, and the frantic need to escape and find fresh air assails me.

Before I can devise an excuse to leave, he leans in and whispers, “You sound like a pixie when you laugh. It’s fucking adorable.”

I put space between us and say to Devyn, “Can you do me a favor?”

“Feds and favors.” She tsks teasingly. “This time, you’ll owe me one. And tomorrow, I want a full update on what the feds have. No one is getting anything done around here.”

“I promise, I will,” I assure her. “Actually…” I go to grab my phone and curse. Realizing I left it in my bag, apprehension grips my chest. I never forget my phone.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worry creasing her features.

“Yeah…yes.” I shake my head. “I was going to send you my profile, but I’ll have to send it later. But I will. Then you can help me narrow down a suspect.”

This seems to persuade her, and her expression turns serious. “All right. What can I do?”

I nod in the direction of the arched hallway. “There are two very obvious special agents stationed out front,” I say. “Keep them from crashing the party?”

She downs the rest of her drink. “I have practice marking my territory with the feds.”

After seeing her handle the reporter, I believe her. “Thanks.”

I’m not sure why I’m just now realizing she really can help on the case. Devyn is a local. She knows this town, its people. Having her read over the profile would garner more information then observing a party full of wasted youths.

“Nice to meet you, Professor Locke,” Devyn says to Kallum, then touches my arm, leaning in conspiratorially. “I want intel on more than just the profile tomorrow.”