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“That’s because you boys mark yourselves all up,” Bruja said. “Banshee, you mentioned you and Demon were briefly on the same team. I would’ve sworn you were military intelligence until you gave a ‘hooyah’ and then pounded your Trident into Tanner’s casket.”
“We were both Knights for a short while.”
“Gold Squadron,” Gray clarified without a trace of emotion.
“Then I was recruited over to Black Squadron.”
“Oh, shit,” Ryland murmured, tipping his head Banshee’s way in a silent nod of recognition. Of all the color-coded squadrons, Black Squadron was the ultra-secretive arm of DEVGRU, responsible for intelligence, reconnaissance, and surveillance.
“Real name?” Bruja asked, leaning forward.
“Zane Hawkins. What about you?”
“Well, you already know I’m former Army. And my real name is Inda Diaz. To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of being called a witch.”
“But you’re a beguiling witch,” Zane said, and she grinned, rolling her eyes.
“Save your charm for someone who cares,” she told him, and he chuckled.
No one focused on Gray because they already knew his story from Zane.
“Saint?” Ryland asked.
“My name is Nik Valentine.”
“Nik Valentine?” Inda repeated dubiously. “That sounds made up.”
“It’s the name I choose to go by. My birth name is Nikolai Vasilevsky.”
“Ha! I knew you were Russian,” Ryland exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.
“I claim no kin,” Nik stated.
“How did you get hired by a U.S. government agency when you’re not even American?” Zane prodded.
“I am an American, you asshole,” Nik said. “I left Russia years ago and became a citizen.”
“And you worked for Russian Intelligence?” Pharaoh asked.
Nik leaned back in his seat and sent a defiant look to everyone. “Let’s be clear that I don’t talk about my past. But since Rip—excuse me,Ryland—is having trust issues, I’ll tell you once and don’t ever fucking ask me again.”
Everyone seemed to be waiting with bated breath and Ryland’s gaze dipped to the black ink along Nik’s knuckles, hands and forearms. He recognized some of the symbols—tattoos always told a story—and Nik had already revealed he’d spent time in a Russian prison where every inmate was marked and every drop of ink held meaning from time served to crimes committed.
“I worked for the Federal Security Service and was sent deep undercover in the Bratva. I barely made it out alive. If you didn’t already know, the Russian mob are a bunch of cocksuckers. But, again, let me be crystal clear. I don’t talk about it, so don’t ask me any more fucking questions.”
He speared them all with a look that clearly stated he was done sharing.
Damn, how deeply undercover had he been willing to go?Ryland wondered. Between working for the FSS and the Bratva, it was a wonder Nik had survived those two monsters.
“Alrighty then,” Bruja said, and everyone looked at Pharaoh who was the last to share his story.
“Braxton Graves, former Delta Force commander. Spec ops.”
“I knew it!” Ryland exclaimed.
“Same!” Zane said and the two slapped hands and bumped knuckles.
“Why would you think he was Delta Force?” Harper asked.
