Page 50 of Dagger

Flash’s smile faltered. He’d half expected that, but hearing it sent that restlessness since he met her to a sharper edge. “Alone?”

Ndhlovu shook his head. “Nah. She’s got help. Two Shadowguard, Ryu and Bagh. They’re good men, from what I’ve seen.”

“Interesting code names.”

“Yeah, we Shadowguard choose our callsigns from our ancestors. For me, I’m a descendant of the South African Zulu tribe, so Ndhlovu is powerful and fitting for my callsign. I watch over others, move with patience and strength, and embody resilience.” He touched his temple.

“Bullets bounce off?” Flash asked.

Ndhlovu smiled, his teeth bright. “Something like that.”

“And Ryu?”

“Second generation Japanese American. In Japanese culture, Ryu is dragon and stands for strength, wisdom, and mystical protection. They’re revered as powerful forces who bring fortune or devastation. The sense of awe lines up perfectly with his formidable skill set and the heritage of disciplined samurai warriors.”

Flash wasn’t so much interested in Ryu. His attention was focused on this Bagh. “The other one?”

Ndhlovu chuckled. “Bagh? He takes his name from the Bengal Tiger native to Nepal, second generation American, and inherited his forebears Gurkha grit.”

“Gurkha. They fought with the British, right?”

“A reserve unit of the British army. Once a Gurkha sets a goal, there’s little that can deter him. The man is unflinching in battle, infamous among our group for his tiger’s courage and ability to stay focused under extraordinary pressure. He has an affable intensity. Even under fire, he runs on adrenaline and unwavering resolve. Big contrast to Ryu who listens more than he speaks, master of the subtle, fluid and stealthy, he blends into the shadows.” The man’s dark eyes were full of mischief. “You’re not going to ask?”

“About.”

He chuckled longer this time. “Lechuza means owl in Spanish, but you probably already knew that.” That look of deviltry intensified. “She’s a beautiful woman, but she’ll cut your heart out if you call her pretty.”

Flash grinned. “You pulling my chain?”

“Maybe…a little.”

“Fuck you, O-voo.” Some rebel spirit inside him wanted to see her again so he could not call her pretty, but gorgeous, and see how she would react. Part of him didn’t want to think that she would need to carve out a heart she already possessed.

His deep laughter was rich. “Fair enough. Do you want to know about her callsign or not?”

“You know I do, you cagey bastard.”

“She has patience, wisdom, and silently observes for hours, a formidable opponent, even in captivity. She’s a silent predator, killing with precision and intelligence, and she strikes out of nowhere. There have been times when I thought I knew where she was, and I turned around and she’s right behind me. Silent as hell. I never hear her coming.”

Those were the things he suspected about her, but he hungered for something more. “Her ancestry?”

“Sapa Inca. She comes from people who built one of the greatest empires in history, they mastered guerrilla warfareagainst the Spanish, and that tactical knowledge was passed down through generations of resistance fighters. Combat, stealth, and assassination are in her blood, that of a fallen empire. She’s a Krav Maga master, probably can wield any weapon she touches, and she makes a mean chili.”

Flash tried not to let that piece of information settle too deep. “Glad she’s not flying solo,” he said casually. “But…is she okay? Really, okay? She went through a helluva trauma, and then to go right back after Herrera—” He blew out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “I know it’s gutsy and all, but it’s also?—”

“Risky?” Ndhlovu finished for him. He studied Flash’s tense posture. “She’s been through worse, though, she doesn’t talk about it much. You know her. She’s stubborn. Determined.” He paused for a moment. “You sweet on her?”

Flash straightened so fast he almost tripped over himself. “What? No, no.” He coughed, searched for a joke. “Just wanted to make sure you guys were all right. We saved your asses, after all, and it’s not often I get the chance to do a hospital check-in.”

Ndhlovu responded with a dry, knowing laugh. The protective edge in it was unmistakable, like an older brother warning off a rival. “Sure, man. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Good luck, by the way, nailing that girl down. She’s not flighty, but she’s got her own agenda. Like her namesake. She doesn’t stop until she’s finished the job.”

Flash swallowed hard, bracing for whatever came next. He tried to crack another grin, but it felt thin. “She was looking a little rough last I saw her. I just wanted?—”

Ndhlovu cut him off. “She was looking at you the same way, if you ask me, so clearly there’s something unfinished between you two. But if you’re planning on stepping into that ring, you ought to know you’ve got competition. Bagh’s been after her for a while now, and that guy’s as smooth as they come. Charismatic as hell.”

Something in Flash went primal, possessive at the notion of another man being close to Lechuza, closer than he was. Who was this Bagh guy, and why was it churning him up so much? It wasn’t like he had any claim on her…did he?

Still, he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he forced a lighthearted shrug. “Better watch my back, huh?” he said, feigning that easy humor he was famous for. “I don’t even know if I stand a chance, but good to know my potential competition’s a real charmer.”

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