Shouldn’t he be pleased to get that pain-in-the-ass ex-agent off his back?

Instead, he found himself pulling for the team.

He wanted another day to challenge Alex Kinton.

Another day to piss him off, watch the rage in Kinton’s eyes and the pain in the lines on his face. Darrin swore Kinton had twice as many lines around his mouth as when they first met.

He’d glimpsed Alex a time or two before the “accidents” at the group home. The resemblance between Alex and his retard brother had been startling. It was like the retard had suddenly been injected with brains, pounded by a personal trainer, and had his hair trimmed. But it wasn’t until after Samuel’s incident that Darrin got to know, really know, Alex Kinton.

After Samuel’s death, Alex had raged through the group home, upsetting all the residents and making the owner cry. He’d been something to see. Those gray eyes had become a shade of steel that burned, and the tendons in his neck had looked like taut bungee cords. He questioned every resident and employee multiple times, and he had harassed the homicide detective until the cop had ordered him escorted out of the home by a couple of uniforms.

When Alex cornered Darrin for questioning the first time, he’d felt the heated rush of Kinton’s rage flow across his chest. Heavenly. When he’d stopped Darrin in the hallway, nearly face-to-face in the narrow corridor, Alex had smelled like clean sweat and hot anger. The two men weren’t all that different. They were about the same height, but Darrin had ten years on the agent and Alex had a lot more hair.

“Where were you last night after nine o’clock?” Those steel eyes had been dagger sharp.

Darrin had put on his best worried face, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “In my room. I always watch TV after the residents go to bed in the evening.” He’d inhaled slowly through his nose to get more of Kinton’s scent. All pissed-off male.

“What’d you watch?” The question was like a whip.

“Uh. That guy in the jungle. The reality show where the army guy survives wherever the show decides to dump him. Then the local news.”

“Did you see Samuel go to his room that night?”

“Of course. I’m usually the one to get everyone moving in that direction. Kathy doesn’t care to supervise bedtime, and I don’t mind. I saw Samuel leave the bathroom and close the door to his room.”

Kinton had worked his jaw as Darrin watched in fascination and decided to throw him a little piece of bait. “I did hear someone’s door open around eleven or so. I figured someone was using the bathroom again.” Darrin scrunched his forehead. “The sound did come in the direction of Samuel’s room. I can’t say for sure that it was his door.”

Kinton’s jaw had grown harder. “Did you hear the door close?”

Darrin had twisted his mouth. “No…I can’t say I did. I was only paying attention to the TV.”

“Why didn’t you get up to check? Why didn’t you make sure that person was back in their room?” Alex had leaned forward an inch, somehow seeming taller at that second.

Darrin had blinked and stepped back a little, his spine touching the hallway wall. “Well, usually the residents are great about returning to their rooms. Kathy has never had a problem with wanderers before.” He’d injected a small quiver in his voice and licked his lips. He hadn’t thought Kinton’s eyes could get any hotter, but they did.

Darrin had started to sweat. In a good way.

“Rosa died the other day and you’re not watching the residents? You don’t get up to check late-night noises? Two people from this home are dead. Don’t you think you should’ve stepped it up a little?”

Darrin had thought his spine would melt. Kinton had been physically pumping testosterone into the air. Darrin had sniffed and dropped his gaze. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Thinking is what you’re paid to do! These people need extra attention,” the man had said with clenched teeth.

Darrin had squeezed his eyes shut, afraid he wouldn’t project the right level of sorrow. He’d been luxuriating in the hot rush. The whole confrontation had turned into an emotional heat wave Darrin had never experienced before.

Darrin had an empty chasm deep inside him. He felt nothing. All the time. Other people were born with something in their brains that Darrin was missing. An important chemical or hormone or synapse. Even as a child, he’d known something was wrong.

The antidote had appeared the first time he’d watched his young cousin die. He been in the pool with her and simply watched. The rush that’d rolled over him as her last breaths left her lungs had addicted him. He’d sought more from other victims over the years, needing his fix, feeding hungrily on their terror as he physically squeezed out their life’s essence. But Alex Kinton was giving him the same dizzying rush in his brain and Darrin hadn’t laid a hand on him.

“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Maybe if I hadn’t been so tired your brother would still be alive.” He’d slowly let his eyes open, gradually dragging his gaze up from the floor, aching for the next reaction.

All color had rocketed out of Alex’s face, and his bloodless lips clamped together. His eyelids had widened the tiniest bit, and Darrin had held his breath. Alex had looked ready to collapse. Instead, the agent had turned, made tracks down the hallway, and strode out the front door. Pushing past two residents, Darrin had darted to watch from the living room window. Outside in the hot sun, Alex had leaned on his palms on the hood of his truck and stared down at the asphalt between his arms. He’d looked like a man resting from a hard run or someone waiting to vomit. He didn’t move as Darrin had slowly counted to ten.