Bone Deep(37)

Not today.

“I was born in the Ural Mountains of Siberia. My father, Sacha Asinimov became a prominent leader of the Russian mob and retained his position for years. When I was young, my sisters and mother were taken from us. My father searched but was unable to find who was responsible. It wasn’t until I was eighteen that I took up the search myself and it was that search that led me to The Collective.”

He remembered locating a single operative who’d given up information about The Collective and what he’d told Dmitry still had the ability to send chills down his spine. Child prostitution, slavery, death, arms dealing—all of these were the bread and butter of The Collective’s operations and at the head? Joseph Bombardier.

A few years after that encounter a female assassin stood behind him on a London street and told him she was granting him a reprieve but that if he didn’t leave questions about Joseph alone, she would come for him again and next time she would not be so lenient.

It was the same assassin he’d held in his arms earlier that night, tasting and kissing…loving. Dmitry shied away from the word as soon as his mind gave it voice. It was too soon. His heart laughed at the dismissal.

Rand and Adam waited patiently and when he realized he’d simply withdrawn into his thoughts he continued. “I had been trained from the time I was six years old to be an enforcer for my father. I was sent abroad to study among masters. My father was very good at killing, you see, and wanted his sons to be equally so. Unfortunately, even the best become a target. Five years ago he was killed on orders by one of his own, his blood-brother Vadim Yesipov.”

“You went to Russia for Yesipov?” Rand asked in a hard voice.

“It was but one reason. It is important to note here that from the time I signed on with Trident, I have been your man. It is this company’s interests that have held sway in every decision I’ve made. That doesn’t mean I didn’t do my own searches for my father’s killer and the people who took my sisters and mother.”

“And?” Adam demanded harshly.

“I was made aware of Trident as I searched for a group of female assassins known as First Team. They were whispered about in the underground circles as the preeminent assassins. Expensive, but if you approached The Collective through the appropriate channels, they could be paid to dispose of anyone for the right price. If I could get my hands on them perhaps they could help me discover what had happened to my sisters. It has always been my feeling Joseph Bombardier was wrapped up in it all somehow.” Dmitry stood, walked to the bar and poured another vodka. He drank it in one swallow, let the burn track a path to his gut and then he sat back down. “Anyway, Trident was looking for the same women and it made sense to join with you as our goals lined up. What began as a way to discover more about The Collective became a friendship and now a partnership with some of the best men I know. But I have information to share with you now and it may change how we view things from here on out.”

“So you weaseled your way in under false pretenses and have operated under the radar waiting for the right time to make your move on the ones responsible for your father’s death?” Rand asked in a silky tone.

Dmitry nodded. He would not lie. “Yes.”

Rand sighed. “You have done no more and no less than any of us have in our quest to end The Collective. Your motivations are your own and you have more than proven that Trident is your number one concern. But I would hear your information and I will tell you that if you lie to us again, you will pay for it, Russian. My stake in this fight has risen dramatically and while that’s not something I ever expected, I will kill for Gretchen.”

Dmitry got up and walked to the window. “Understood,” he said. And then, “Minton was revenge and a warning for Joseph. When Bone killed him and her sisters watched, it was simply another way to get payback and goad Bombardier. But then Bone took Yesipov’s life in Russia and I realized that was First Team’s next move. But Bone is not finished. There is another head of Joseph’s Russian snake and she will go back soon to set that move in play. I thought Yesipov was mine so when your women asked me to follow Bone, I was more than ready to do so in the hopes I could take Yesipov and bring Bone back—as you Americans say, easy peasy, no muss, no fuss. But Bone took him and I let her because she gave me something I’d been searching years for—she gave me Ninka.”

Rand’s dark eyes speared Dmitry to the spot. “Ninka is the lost one they speak of. Bone yelled her name as she broke Minton’s neck. What is she to you?”

Dmitry nodded, the pain fresh and vicious. He remembered his sister. Remembered her fair hair and bright smiles. Her blue eyes, so like his own, so like their father’s, had been filled with happiness and laughter. He remembered her sweet voice and laughter. To know Joseph had cut her down like chafe sent hot burning pokers burning straight into Dmitry’s heart.

“Ninka was my sister and she was with Bullet, Arrow, Bone, and Blade before she was killed.”

Saying the words hurt. But it was an ending he’d expected for years. Many times he’d prayed for his sisters to have died rather than suffer the hell of childhood slavery or prostitution. Apparently, his prayers for Ninka had been in vain.

“There is more, Dmitry. Something else you’re holding back,” Adam said intuitively.

“There are more killers after First Team. Joseph calls them his Sciariorum. They are the male equivalent of First Team. Bone fought two of them in the woods surrounding Yesipov’s mansion. They are mean. They are vicious,” Dmitry parlayed.