Page 68 of Shadow

Sounded like the world had come down. He got up and moved to the window. Cracked the curtain slightly. Scanned the street.

The trash lay in the street. And not just his, but a few others, one of them rolling.

The rain came down in sheets.

Footsteps on the stairs.

He glanced behind him. Daphne appeared, wearing her yoga pants and a tank top. Weapon in hand, her eyes sharp.

“You heard it,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Kill the lights,” Asher said.

The house went dark, only the security monitor glowing.

They met at the door, no words, and Asher eased it open.

Outside, the wind howled.

He darted onto the porch, the wind licking the rain into the alcove. Daphne grabbed his jacket off the hook and pulled it on as she slipped out behind him.

“There,” he said and pointed to Mark’s oak tree. A branch had sheared off, hit the Nova, denting the hood.

And yet, even with that, something just…felt wrong.

Asher’s gaze went to the Nova—a glow. Under the hood.

The front door of Mark’s house opened. Mark, on the porch.

He started for his car.

And in his gut, Asher just…knew. “Mark—don’t!”

He came off the porch, heading for the car, Daphne behind him. The odor of fuel hued the air despite the rain, and he shouted again—“Mark, stop!”

The fire ignited, licked out flames from the hood.

“Ash—”

Daphne. He turned. And then instinct, maybe, caused him to grab her.

“What—” she started.

Then he tackled her into the grass as the explosion lit up the night.

Seven

Her witnesses were still inside. While fire lit up the night sky and the acrid odor of burning fuel seared her lungs. While neighbors rushed outside, shouting, as the storm raged.

And while she lay in the cold, soaked grass, Asher Morrison’s body pinning her to the ground.

Okay, protecting, not pinning, but it felt a little that way with his arms bracketing her shoulders, his head down against hers, his legs bracing him above her.

Very husband-like.

Except they weren’t married, and she had a job to do.