Page 1 of Shadow

One

Asher Morrison was tired of being a traitor.

Never mind that his heart bled red, white, and blue, that he’d signed up for this ever-so-fun adventure into darkness.

He should have expected the assassin to show up, probably. After all, he’d been the one to give away the date of the trial.

But okay, he’d never actually thought they’d attempt the hit here, in the middle of the Renegade courthouse, at eight in the morning.

Shoot. He stood at the coffee cart, eyeing the man with the newspaper across the courthouse lobby, and his hope of the last eighteen months of living in the shadows did a quick and brutal nosedive.

And to think this morning he’d thought—just get through the next two hours and then…maybe, please, he could walk away from the darkness, into the light, and take a long-awaited shower.

Or a vacation to the Keys.

Anywhere, really, outside of Renegade, Colorado, would work.

All he had to do was make sure that Martha Lintz made it through her plea hearing, deal intact—one that would give the government everything they’d need to pin a RICO indictment on Draven Frost and the Shadow Syndicate.

Then the evil that had infected this valley for nearly seven years would implode, and with it, finally—finally—Gemma would have justice.

Instead, his sins had come back to haunt him.

Asher adjusted his FBI credentials and scanned the marble lobby of the Renegade courthouse. Autumn sunlight slanted through the tall windows, turning the white marble floor into a chessboard of light and shadow. Lawyers in rumpled suits clutched briefcases. An elderly couple perched on a worn wooden bench, looking pensive. Hank—the security guard who’d been three months from retirement for the past five years—scrolled through his phone at the metal detector, oblivious to the actual detecting part of his job description.

And across the room sat Dmitri Turek, bag man, enforcer, and all-around syndicate thug, reading a newspaper. Like, just another Tuesday. Nothing to see here.

Asher would bet dollars to doughnuts the man was here to make sure that Martha Lintz didn’t walk out.

So yes, that put an inconvenient damper on Asher’s day.

Especially since he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He’d done some bad math when he’d revealed Martha’s trial date.

He checked his watch.

Martha Lintz’s bail hearing started in four minutes. The witness who could tie Draven Frost to financial records that would cement their RICO case.

Dmitri looked up, glanced at him, but Asher looked away.

The syndicate didn’t send babysitters to routine jobs—that was Asher’s role. Observe, take notes, and call his contact later with details about security protocols. In other words, keep the syndicate informed, their inside man in the FBI.

That was the deal, as far as the syndicate knew.

But he was hardly going to stand by and watch someone get murdered.

Asher pulled out his phone. Official FBI cell in his right pocket. The burner—the one that connected him to his contact—stayed in his left.

Asher kept his face neutral and opened up his text.

Asher

Syndicate here. Should I pull Martha?

Movement near the security office. Dani Kim emerged—FBI agent, dark suit, credentials clipped to her belt. Her eyes swept the lobby, cataloging faces, mapping exits, calculating threat levels.

Professional. Capable. Good at her job, despite being a rookie.