The fifteen-thousand-dollar dress, borrowed sneakers, and pink diamond tiara that I’m wearing don’t change the fact that I’m about to break into a mansion on the shores of Lake Washington.

The facts are these: I either find a way onto these grounds and into that darkened house or I go back to that horrible party with those horrible people and know that I failed. That, when an infamous acquaintance of mine once said that this town was cursed in blood and diamonds, he was right.

Because tonight is the night.

I can feel it.

Later, when I recall that very moment, there are two things that I’ll remember most of all. Not the imposing metal gate or the harsh panting of our collective breaths, not the brick wall on our right, covered in ivy and casting strange shadows in the moonlight. Mostly, I’ll recall those silver beams of light streaming across Chasm’s blue-black hair and the crisp white of Maxim Wright’s suit jacket.

Those are the two images that stick, that burn, that even now make me ache in a way that I cannot explain in rational sentences, only flickers of powerful feeling and deep knowledge.

Gamer Girl, professional sleuth, petty thief, vandal, and most of all: in love.

That last bit sems to be a recurring theme, one that has—and will continue to—cause me trouble in ways I never could’ve dreamed up. Not even if I were a writer the way my mother is, an expert in crafting words and pretty prose.

And killers.

She’s good at making those up, too.

Only this time, the killer is real, and he’s very much interested in one thing: me.

The gate, of course, is locked, but that’s never stopped us before.

“Now what?” I breathe as I look up at it, realizing even as I do that its presence is metaphorical at best. I can get past this gate; we all can. It’s what we’ll find on the other side that scares me.

Maxim—or Maxx or X, depending on your persuasion—wets his lips and then moves over to the wall, hopping up and grabbing the stone top with his fingers. As muscular as he is, as athletic, it’s an easy feat for him to situate himself astride it.

He peers down at me, and my entire world shifts. I’m not fully aware of it then, but my life is about to change forever. I’ll soon suffer irreparable damage and perfect joy, all wrapped up in a single moment. I’ll never quite experience duality the way that I will in just a few, short hours.

Pure happiness and absolute rage—at the same time, and in equal measures.

Maxx offers out a hand.

“Boost her up, Chas,” he says to the other boy, knowing that any one of us would sacrifice the world to accomplish our task tonight.

Chasm kneels down, like a dark knight, like the protector I always knew he was, and allows me to use his leg as a step. My hand reaches up, questing for Maxx’s, and his fingers curl around my wrist, lighting me up on the inside, igniting my soul with brilliant flames.

He yanks me up to join him, and it feels like I’m flying, pink tulle skirts fluttering around me in the darkness. Once I’m seated beside X, he does the same for Chasm, hauling him up to sit beside us. The boys very easily hop down on the other side, but I’m left to sit there in my expensive dress, staring into the woods and wondering.

What will happen once we’re inside? How will things change? There’s a joy to this night, but there’s a sadness, too. I can feel it when I look down to find them both waiting for me. A seismic shift is about to take place in my relationship with both guys, and I’m not the only one who’s dreading it.

“Here,” Maxx says, holding up his arms. “Jump to me. I’ll catch you, Kota.”

“You’ve got this, Little Sister,” Chasm agrees, but as much as I appreciate their encouragement, I’ve never needed it less.

I can do this; I want to do this.

I jump into Maxx’s arms, ignoring the chemistry between us as he catches me and then, very purposefully, reaches up to adjust the tiara for me. When he puts his hands on my hips, well, that has nothing to do with our little murder mystery party.

Come on, Gamer Girl. If you’re half as clever as you wish you were, this could be it.

There’s also an equal chance we’ll be arrested—or hunted—tonight.

But sometimes, assumptions must be made in order to solve difficult puzzles.

As we approach the grand staircase of the house, the temptation is there to let my imagination run wild. I’ve seen bodies. I’ve seen blood. I’ve done terrible things. But, as the world’s most famous murder mystery writer, Agatha Christie, once wrote: “You gave too much rein to your imagination. Imagination is a good servant, and a bad master. The simplest explanation is always the most likely.”

And the simplest explanation is this: The Seattle Slayer led me to this spot for a reason.

So in this spot, it truly begins.

A broken window, a disabled alarm, a very creepy painting, and the flashing blue and red lights of a cop car.

Yep. Love has made me crazy.

Not once, not twice, but three times over.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Guess we’re about to find out how true that really is.