Page 75 of Shadow

But walking into the warehouse at midnight with burned hands and smoke in his hair and the image of Daphne’s face when the explosion lit up the night—calm was a lie he couldn’t sell anymore.

Draven’s text sat in his pocket.

Unknown Number

Next time, you won’t just get burned.

So yeah, the car fire had looked like an act of nature.

But the text had sliced through him.

Draven knew where they were.

And whatever the source of the fire, Daphne was rattled—he’d seen it on her face, despite her attempts to hide it.

He needed to get back in control of this game. Which meant finding out what Draven knew.

Asher pushed through the warehouse door. Metal scraped concrete with a shriek that echoed through the empty space. Cold air hit his face, carrying the smell of rust and motor oil, and standing water pooled in dark corners. A single bulb hanging from a chain cast yellow light across stacked pallets and abandoned equipment. Shadows stretched, long and distorted, across the concrete floor.

Dmitri stood near the back wall with his arms crossed. Leather jacket worn soft with age. Dark jeans. Expensive boots that caught the light. He looked relaxed. Almost bored.

“Rough night?” His voice carried across the empty warehouse.

Asher moved closer. Let Dmitri see his face in the harsh light. See the rage barely contained. “That was sloppy.”

“What was?” Dmitri pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Shook one loose with practiced ease.

“The car bomb. Mark Sullivan. The explosion that brought the fire department and police and FBI to a location that’s supposed to be off the radar.”

Dmitri lit his cigarette with a silver lighter. Flame flickered in the dim warehouse. Smoke curled upward toward the rafters, where pigeons rustled. “Unfortunate accident. We had nothing to do with it.”

Asher folded his arms. “People could have gotten hurt.”

“That’s the point.”

He swallowed.

Asher moved into Dmitri’s space. Close enough to smell cigarettes and enough body odor to leave a mark.

“You look upset,” Dmitri said.

“You want to compromise all the work we’ve done? You could have killed me. And you do that, the entire department comes looking for you.”

“A corrupt agent?” He made a sound, almost a laugh. Then it died, his face darkening. “Draven’s getting impatient. You’ve been stalling. The testimony is in three weeks. It’s time to eliminate the witnesses.”

“Not yet.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“That’s exactly how this works. I’m the one with access. I’m the one keeping the FBI from figuring out there’s a mole. You don’t make moves in my operational area without my okay. I’m not going down for this—and I’m not sacrificing anyone else either.”

Dmitri studied him, a smile tweaking his face. “This is about the girl.”

“It’s about not ending up in a cell beside Draven.”

Dmitri stepped closer. “You’ve had access to two federal witnesses for a whole week and they’re still breathing. That makes Draven nervous.”

“Then stop being nervous and start trusting the plan.”