head. “I didn’t go to school with him. He was there briefly, just for a short time, maybe four years, but even as a kid he was quiet and kept to himself. He had a younger sister, quite beautiful. Calina, I think was her name. They were pulled out of the school when he was thirteen or fourteen. I never saw him again.”
“Great,” Alena said. “He’s probably the plant the Russian sent to spy on us. Or assassinate us all. And you want to bring him right in and let him join, Czar.”
“Do you have something you want to share with us about Rurik, Alena? What do you know about him that the rest of us don’t?” Czar asked.
Absinthe put a restraining hand on Alena’s wrist beneath the table. He recognized the little bite that could barely be heard in Czar’s voice. For some reason, Czar was championing the unknown biker. It was clear that Czar knew something about him, something very important, and that somewhere earlier in Czar’s history, the two men had crossed paths. Alena needed to listen before she drew her own conclusions.
“I don’t like him,” Alena said, ignoring Absinthe’s silent instructions not to voice her objections yet. “He’s a total asshole.”
“Has he done something to you we should know about?” Czar challenged softly when the others sat up straight. Ice and Storm leaned toward their sister, shaking their heads.
Alena tossed her wild, naturally platinum hair back over her shoulder a little defiantly. “No, of course not. If he had, he’d be a dead man. I’m like the others in his chapter, I guess. He makes me uncomfortable.”
“That’s total bullshit.” Czar glared at her. “We aren’t anything like those in that chapter. If you were like them, you wouldn’t be alive right now. Savage is your brother. Reaper is your brother. If either of those men walk into that chapter on my orders, you better believe they’re going to make them uncomfortable. He’s called Razrushitel for a reason. They know it and they fear him. He belongs with us.”
Alena rolled her eyes. “Destroyer? Ruiner? What the fuck, Czar? He calls himself a name and builds himself a rep and joins them. They believe him because he stands around looking like a hard-ass. I’m telling you right now, the man is a spy for the Russian. If he didn’t go to school at the same one Gavriil attended, for more than a couple of years, then he either was a golden boy and was cut loose because he sold someone down the river, or he attended one of the easier schools and skated by.”
Absinthe winced at the real venom in her voice. This was personal. She carried a real personal grudge against the man and every single member of Torpedo Ink had to hear it in her voice, just the way he did.
“Ice? Storm? Since your sister refuses to tell the truth and I don’t want Absinthe to have to use his skills on her on his wedding day, I’m asking you both a direct question. There is no way you aren’t aware why your sister is holding a grudge against Rurik.”
Alena went white. “That is so wrong, Czar. I have the right to vote not to admit a new member into our chapter and I just did.”
“You have every right to vote no. I haven’t called for a vote. We need information and that’s what we’re doing, gathering information. Actual facts, not that you don’t like him because you think he’s an asshole. Or your bullshit lie, that you’re uncomfortable around him.”
Czar’s fury nearly shook the room. For the first time, Alena seemed to be aware of it. Whatever grudge she was carrying against Rurik Volkov paled in comparison.
“Ice?” Czar prompted relentlessly.
Ice was the eldest of the twins by only a few minutes, but he was still the acknowledged older brother. Ice sighed. When Czar demanded answers, when he, as president of Torpedo Ink, demanded anything, he was given a response out of sheer respect.
“When we were teens, Rurik would sometimes show up at some of the same events where we were working. Clearly there was more than one target, so we ended up knowing one another by sight. Once in a while, he would have his sister with him.”
He looked at Alena, who shook her head and then looked down at the table, both hands in her lap, twisting her fingers together. Absinthe put his hand over hers, trying to ignore the images pushing into his