Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(2)

Elin glared at Nena but said nothing. But the mark’s a federal attorney, Nena was thinking. And what did Dad mean by “show of good faith”? Since when did the Tribe dispatch people as a “show of good faith”? She didn’t like it one bit, but who was she to question their father? He’d never given her a reason to doubt him, not since she was fifteen and he and her mum had adopted her off the streets. Still, the thought niggled in her mind.

“This mark seems out of the norm, no?” Nena asked when they’d ended the call. “Out of the norm for us. I mean, we’re not mercenaries.”

“Why the second-guessing?” Elin countered, rifling through her bag. “Do you have something better to do than the job? Sit out in the hot-ass sun in your backyard? Or go play with your best bud with the crude name.”

“Keigel,” Nena supplied helpfully. He was her neighbor three doors down and also the head of a large local gang. “I ask because this guy isn’t our typical mark.”

Elin let out a burst of exasperated air. “I could use a smoke. You’re stressing me the hell out.” Elin produced her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe the guy’s a perv or crooked. That seems to be the standard to get the—” She completed the sentence by slicing a well-manicured finger across her throat.

Nena leaned forward from her perch on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. “You’re quite rude. You know that?”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Elin broke out into a magnificent grin and wouldn’t stop until her sister shook her head in defeat.

“Is this guy really more crooked than the man he’s prosecuting?” It had been all over the news. Alleged money launderer Dennis Smith was to be tried on RICO charges and witness intimidation.

“You know how it all goes down,” Elin said. “Council makes the decree and sends up the names; I work the intel at Network; Dispatch carries out their orders. We never question the Council’s reasons.” She shook her head in concession. “Anyway, Smith’s dealings are questionable at best, and while the Tribe wouldn’t normally get involved, they’re doing it to secure our new Council member. Politics.”

“Politics isn’t what the Tribe is supposed to be about,” Nena griped.

“Yes, well, plot twist, this member happens to be the father of the man I’m screwing, so there’s that.”

Nena scoffed. “Screwing? Is this an arrangement? A traditional pairing like back home? Did the man’s father present goats and liquor to Dad?”

Elin shot her a middle finger. “No. He brought a country.” She deflated, suddenly looking tired. Or perhaps annoyed. “The Council wants Lucien Douglas, and Douglas wants Smith—for whatever reason—to remain prison-free. It’s easier to take the lawyer out and keep the man happy. And it’s cheaper and less time consuming than buying off a jury.”

The words were cold and callous coming from Elin’s lips. To be killed just because it was the easier choice. It didn’t make the Tribe sound inspirational when the advancement of the African diaspora was supposed to be their ultimate goal. It made them sound selfish, greedy . . . wicked.

“Dispatching this federal attorney, this Cortland Baxter, sounds a bit self-serving, yeah?” Nena ventured.

Elin gazed at the cigarettes longingly, then gave her sister a pouting look, but Nena shook her head. Elin released a frustrated sigh and shoved them back in her bag. “Douglas has close ties with one of the countries that have been hard to bring on the team. So if making the new guy happy means the African Tribal Council secures this country so we can shore up imports and exports from the coast, then yeah, the Tribe is self-serving.”

She twirled her ponytail of long box braids around her fingers, studying Nena for the first time since she’d arrived. “Are you all right? Real talk.”

Nena shrugged. It was the only answer she could give at the moment because she didn’t know how she felt. She was thinking about how the attorney’s dispatch felt like a break from the Tribe’s norm. It wasn’t her job to like or dislike any dispatch. It was her job to carry it out as commanded, and doubting the organization she’d pledged her life and loyalty to was what made her uncomfortable.

“Anyway,” Elin said, “don’t think too much on it. It’s just another job. Focus on the Cuban dispatch coming up in a couple nights. I can’t make the dignitary party that night, so you need to attend that, too—as yourself.”

“Elin.” Nena felt her anxiety heighten a notch at the thought of having to attend a pretentious party as the Knights’ youngest daughter. “You know I don’t care for those people. The party plus the Cuban is double duty.” Nena paused, thinking some more. “I can go alone, right?”

Elin ignored her. “We’ll call in the rest of the local team.” She ticked off the jobs on her fingers. “You just completed the Nigerian dispatch; the Cuban is next, and then the attorney. After that, little sis, you need to lie low for a few months. Witt’s on board with it. He’s hated having to assign you these back-to-back jobs, but it’s been difficult trying to square all these different factions away.”

“And the party? I prefer to go without a date.”

Elin wouldn’t answer, but her face said it all. She clomped in her thick-heeled sandals to the front door, throwing it open just as Keigel’s fist rose to knock, his other hand bearing a container of lemon-pepper wings. It was Nena and Keigel’s thing, their shared love of this wing flavor. Nena saw the hopeful look on his face, the puppy dog way he looked at Elin, on whom he had a major crush. He’d likely seen Elin’s car and thought to use the wings as an excuse for coming over, rather than waiting for Nena to pop up at his home like she normally did.