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The music was shitty and the company was even worse.

Even if he was the company he was referring to.

Calix Valimir stood by the punch bowl and tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt as he faced the rest of the party. The high school reunion was in full swing three hours in, and many of his old schoolmates were tipsy or on their way to being drunk.

Since Emergency was considered one of the largest occupied planets in the Edith galaxy, there were many options for public and private schooling in each major city. Gradient High happened to be one of five well-known locations, and they held a reunion once every eight years and invited all the alumni to attend.

He’d had no interest in going, but his superior officer, Gideon, had assigned him a case on planet with dates that happened to coincide, and so…here he was.

What an epic mistake.

It wasn’t like he was delusional enough to assume people had forgotten about that horrible event when he’d been eighteen, but a part of him had still hoped the reaction would be better than this. Every time he caught someone’s eye, it was to find them glaring or looking at him with unbridled disgust.

At least when they’d been kids, it’d made sense, but now they were all adults, and to still garner this much hatred for something that had been an accident? He’d been found not guilty on all charges. His name had been cleared.

No one had cared back then. And no one cared now.

After the incident, Calix had been forced to give up on his dream to teach and instead immediately enrolled at the Academy, a military style training facility located on a man-made planet.

There were different fields of study at the Academy, same as any other school, though the focus was on training soldiers and police officers. Every galaxy in the universe had its own Academy, most kept separate from regular society in an attempt to help cadets cut ties with their roots. Once a person graduated, they could no longer be loyal to their home planet and instead swore an oath to uphold law and order throughout the universe.

He hadn’t planned on that path, but once there, Calix had quickly realized he was actually pretty good. He’d breezed through hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, always top three in his classes. His course studies had also gone well, with him grading in the top five percentile all four years of attendance. When it’d come time to pick his focus, studying to become a detective had been a no-brainer.

He'd poured everything he had left into training, into proving himself to those around him. The determination to become something despite the incident. The dark thoughts that haunted him and called him a freak.

The guilt.

The shame.

All of it.

In some galaxies, the Academy was the only thing on planet, but not in Edith. Graduating cadets who went on to become commanding officers, detectives, inspectors, off-site forensic scientists, etc., were all housed there as well. They were on the opposite side of the globe and didn’t often come into contact with training cadets, but it was nice not having to pick up and relocate to a completely new planet.

Calix’s decision to join the Academy had been the best he’d ever made. The people there hadn’t known about his sordid past, hadn’t questioned him or his sanity. If he hadn’t been able to make any strong, lasting friendships, so what? The goal had been to live normally, not splendidly, and he’d somehow managed it. Managed to coast under the radar even with his perfect grades and stellar record as a sixth-class detective—impressive for his age.

Until Troya Shaw arrived.

In the center of the dancefloor—and the center of attention, as per usual—Calix’s partner, Troya, laughed and swayed his hips to the gods awful techno beat thrumming through the bass speakers.

The two of them were from different graduating classes, with Troya a year behind, but that hadn’t stopped his partner from entering the Academy already carrying the hatred of everyone back home as though it was his mission to uphold their honor through fury or some shit like that.

When they’d still been at the Academy, it’d been relatively easy to avoid him, at least, but that had changed when Calix’s original partner got injured last year, and he’d needed a replacement to step in permanently. To this day, he still couldn’t figure out why the two of them had been paired together. Just because the rest of the student body hadn’t known about his past, didn’t mean it wasn’t written in his file.

The two of them should never have come into contact in the field, let alone have to work together. The worst part? Calix couldn’t even put in for a transfer without seeming like a dick. It’d been over eight months since the two of them started working together and he kept waiting for Troya to do it, but the guy kept surprising him.

Which made no sense, considering how openly he loathed him.

Even tonight, they’d arrived separately, and Troya hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction. While everyone else openly glared or whispered spiteful words behind Calix’s back, the man he’d spent six hours traveling on a spaceship with this morning acted like he didn’t exist.

Cumbersome.

Infuriating.

Deserving.

That last one made him flinch, and he quickly turned away, hanging his head as he reached for another cup of the weird-tasting punch.

Only for someone to step up to his side and offer one before he could.

Calix prepared himself for the worst and glanced over, breath catching in his throat when he registered it was Heathe.

Heathe D’Leo, his first crush.

What were the odds he’d heard about the incident? He’d been a grade above Cal in school and had already graduated when it’d happened…

Wishful thinking again?

“Hey, it’s Calix, right?” Heathe waited until he accepted the cup and then held out his hand. “I think I remember having a class with you?”

“Fifth period history.” He nodded and slipped his palm against the other man’s, warmth trickling through where they connected. It’d been a long time since he’d last thought of the older guy, but this close, all those old longings and memories came to the forefront of his mind.

It hadn’t been that big of a crush—had been practically erased after the incident when Cal had met the doctor assigned to his case—but it’d certainly been something. Calix remembered gazing at Heathe, fascinated by his whitish silver hair. It always reminded him of moonlight, and he caught himself staring at it now, just like he used to.

The color wasn’t even that uncommon.

Maybe he’d had too much punch.

The stuff was spiked, after all.

Nervously, he dropped his hand and took a deep gulp of the drink he’d been given, because if he was already buzzed, what would a little more hurt.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around the city since then.” Heathe propped a hip against the edge of the table. “You move after graduation?”

“To the Academy.” Did that mean he really hadn’t heard? Calix was pretty sure the other guy had gotten into Holder University on the other side of the planet. That should have been far enough for him to avoid the gossip. Still… “You?”

“Spent four years at Holder and another two at Divine Jury.”

“Law school?”

“Yeah, I only just moved back about a year ago. Dear old dad kicked the bucket and my mom needed someone to take over the family firm.”

“Oh,” Calix’s heart shrank, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Dad and I hated each other.”

“Oh.” Some of the attraction fizzled, which wasn’t fair. Even back then, rumors about Heathe’s father had been abundant. The guy was supposedly an abusive prick who kept his wife and kid on a tight leash, hanging financial security over their heads.

The D’Leo family came from a line of Imperials who’d left their dying homeworld centuries ago. Without the title or the planet to rule, they’d been reduced to old money and keeping up appearances in society.

Not that Calix would really consider that a reduction.

Not when the man standing across from him could probably afford to buy a third of this planet’s resources, if not more.

Calix would never tell someone they were lucky for withstanding abuse.

But he also didn’t shirk the idea of inherited wealth and always having a home to go back to.

“You remember that old diner? My sister bought it and cleaned it up. Isn’t that funny? She’s always been the odd one in the family. Shit,” Heathe grimaced, seeming to realize his mistake and straightened. “Sorry, I forgot. You’re an orphan, right? My bad, man. I didn’t mean to bring up old traumas.”

“It’s not a trauma,” he lied, forcing his lips to form a friendly smile even though he was back to wishing he’d never come. “Anyway, that’s great you’re doing so well. We always knew you would.”

“We?”

“The school,” he motioned toward the crowd. “You were pretty popular back then.”

Heathe laughed. “Is that your discreet way of asking if I’m seeing anyone?”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “What? No, no! Of course not.”

“Relax.” He dropped an arm over Calix’s left shoulder and leaned in, his warm breath gusting across his mouth. “I’m only teasing. Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. But not here.”

Calix frowned when Heathe pulled away and glanced around them as if to make sure they weren’t being listened in on. Suspicion swirled to life in his gut, but he tried banking it down. All his memories of the older guy were good ones. He’d been student body president of his class, had volunteered for several charities, and no one had ever had a bad thing to say about him.

Heathe wasn’t the type of person he needed to be wary of, it was just old habits unhinging their maws, threatening to swallow him whole.

But he wouldn’t let them.

He’d never go back to that weak, frightened place again.

“That sounded weird, didn’t it?” Heathe must have seen something on his face before he’d gotten a hold of it because he chuckled awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair. “Here’s the thing, it’s about…” he glanced around once more and then bent to keep his next words between them and said, “the killer.”

Calix’s brow winged up. No one was supposed to know he and Troya were here investigating a string of odd murders. That was half the reason they’d been ordered to attend the reunion in the first place, to give them a believable cover.

“I’m close with the chief of police,” Heathe explained. “And I also happen to have known one of the victims.”

“Okay.” This wasn’t exactly the time or the place for this, but it wasn’t like he could ignore a potential lead. He downed the rest of his drink and then set the empty cup on the table and motioned toward the side exit of the school gym. “Let’s go find somewhere quieter we can discuss this.”

“I think the third floor has been cordoned off,” Heathe said as he turned and led them out and toward the east stairwell. “We should be able to have privacy there.”

Calix considered going back and getting Troya, but the guy was in the middle of a crowd. If he walked up to him, he’d draw attention, which wasn’t something they wanted at the moment. With any luck, whatever Heathe wanted to talk about would help speed up the case so they could solve it quick and get out of here.

He stumbled a bit at the top of the stairs, pausing with his hand on the railing as he tried to recenter himself.

Heathe frowned. “You good?”

“Headrush,” he said. “Probably the alcohol.”

“Oh yeah. I didn’t even think about that. Look, if you want to do this later at the station, I totally get it. We can—”

“No,” Calix stopped him when the other man went to descend the steps. “No, it’s all right. Please,” he held out a hand indicating he should keep going, “after you.”

The sound of their footsteps clipped down the hall as they made their way to one of the classrooms furthest from the stairs. The whole way, his head ached, a strange feeling overcoming him rapidly so that by the time they’d stepped beneath the threshold leading to the empty room, he was swaying dangerously on his feet.

Calix’s legs went out from under him, and he fell into an easel, taking the wooden object down with him as he hit the ground. He stared at the contraption, his mind struggling to place it as his blurry vision started to wink in and out.

By the time he realized what it was—and more importantly, where they were—it was too late.

“What’s…What did you do?” The drink. Cal struggled to sit up, his body refusing to listen. He found himself sprawled out on the cold, tiled floor, blinking up at the ceiling instead. He had a decent tolerance when it came to alcohol, which meant the cup he’d been handed had to have been spiked. “Why?”

“Just doing as I’m told.” Heathe stepped closer and started undoing his belt. “Someone asked me to lure you here and make you pay for what you’ve done. Any idea what that could be? Oh, good, it looks like you do. That’ll make this easier then.” His fingers went to the button on his jeans.

Fear zipped through Calix as the realization of what was to come dawned on him. Adrenaline kicked in, and he tried to get away, managing to flip onto his stomach and crawl a few feet before all of the energy drained out of him at once.

Whatever drug he’d been given, it was working fast. He fought against unconsciousness, panic, and actual horror, but his mind wasn’t strong enough to keep his body in check. He was already slipping into a dark abyss when he heard Heathe’s next comment, as though spoken from very far away.

“Ever been fucked up the ass before? I really hope not. I like it when they bleed.”