Page 35 of Devil in Her Details

“Well now,” one man drawled when Dagger stepped outside, his boots crunching over shattered glass. “Pretty little shop.”

Dagger didn’t bother with words. He shifted the dagger in his grip, reversing it to add weight to his fist, and attacked. Fast. Effective. Accurate. The first man barely had time to react before Dagger’s fist struck his jaw.

The man dropped with a grunt, unconscious.

The second swung immediately, the club cutting through the air with a vicious arc.

Dagger pivoted.

The wood glanced off his shoulder instead of his skull. Pain flared, but he used the momentum, stepping inside the man’s reach. His elbow drove hard into the brute’s throat.

The man staggered back.

Infants.

That didn’t mean he could let his guard down. The third came in from the side. Too slow, fool. Dagger caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting hard. Bone gave a satisfying snap. The man howled, his weapon clattering to the ground. “You really are as predictable as you look.” He drove his knee up, folding the man in half, then sent him sprawling with a single shove.

Behind him, he heard a strangled gasp.

Damn it.

He’d told Lilly to stay bloody put.

Focus.

He couldn’t look. Couldn’t give these men that advantage. The second man recovered faster than expected, and a blow landed to his side. Air left him in a sharp curse. He staggered back a step.

“Dagger!”

“Get back,” he growled at Lilly, unable to spare her more attention.

The damn grimy man grinned, raising his club again. “This is the end for you, lad.”

Dagger chuckled, straightening slowly, clutching his flank. “I haven’t been called a lad in a very, very long time. Are you sure you want to strike this lad again?”

The man hesitated. That was all Dagger needed. He lunged, driving his dagger into the man’s shoulder and ripping it out. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would leave a pretty scar to remember him by. “I’m no bloody lad, boy.”

The arse collapsed to the ground.

Useless.

Dagger glanced at the blood slicking his blade and scowled. He hated the sight even though it couldn’t be helped. Without hesitation, he dragged the dagger clean along his coat, surveying the three fools. They’d have to clean up this scene. Christ, Maxen was going to have a fit of nerves when he learned about this. It was too public. The very opposite of their unspoken rule to move in the shadows.

Ironic, since a shadow broke free from his left at that moment—a fourth man, previously hidden from view. Their eyes locked. Pistol in hand, he aimed straight for Dagger’s heart.

“Dagger!” Lilly’s cry came again.

Well, hell.

Was this how he died?

Sorry, little lynx.

Reaper’s grim face suddenly appeared behind the man, his brother’s body twice the ruffian’s size, and knocked him out with a blow to the head. He tucked his pistol back into his own trousers, scowling. “This is not good, frère.”

“You don’t have to bloody tell me,” Dagger growled even though he’d never been so damn relieved to see his brother’s mug. Christ. His life had nearly flashed before his eyes at that moment. For once, he could appreciate his brother’s stalking. On the other bloody hand, “If you were here the whole time, you could have lent a damn hand.”

“I assumed you could handle a few half-witted dock rats.”