Chapter 1 - The Shadow in the Glass
Titan’s entire body went rigid as a low, rumbling growl vibrated through the floorboards of my small pet store.
His massive head locked onto the rain-streaked window near the back alley.
I followed his gaze but saw nothing except the reflection of the dim overhead lights.
Then a thin red laser beam cut through the darkness and danced across Roman Calder’s chest.
I did not think about survival or the fact that this man was Boston’s most dangerous criminal.
I simply lunged forward and slammed my hands into Roman’s shoulders.
We crashed hard onto the linoleum floor just as the back window shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
A high-caliber bullet tore through the space where Roman’s heart had been a fraction of a second earlier.
The deafening crack of the sniper rifle echoed over the cheerful squeaky-toy music still playing on the speakers.
Roman’s four armed guards instantly returned fire, their weapons flashing blindingly in the dim store.
Titan barked, a sound so loud and ferocious it shook the remaining glass in the window frames.
The massive dog stood directly over me, shielding my body with his own 130-pound frame.
Roman rolled onto his knees, his eyes scanning the shattered window with terrifying calmness.
He pulled a dark pistol from his overcoat and aimed it into the alley.
The return fire from the alley abruptly stopped.
One of the guards shouted that the shooter was fleeing down the fire escape.
Roman slowly lowered his weapon and looked down at me.
His expensive suit was covered in glass shards, but his sharp eyes were entirely focused on my face.
He asked me why a civilian pet store owner would risk her life to save a mob boss.
I told him I was just trying to get out of the line of fire and he happened to be in the way.
Roman did not smile, but a strange flicker of respect crossed his scarred face.
He stood up, dusted off his coat, and walked toward the shattered window.
He knelt near the broken glass and picked up a small, silver object the sniper had dropped during the escape.
Roman held it up under the flickering store lights.
It was a customized silver Zippo lighter with a very specific police precinct emblem engraved on the side.
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My blood ran completely cold.
It was the exact lighter I had given my ex-boyfriend, Detective Mark Vance, three years ago.
