Kraven

by Laurann Dohner

  “Believe me now?”

  “What was that about a Lycan whipping?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Uncomplicate it for me.”

  “Fine. Drantos and my father argued in front of some clan members. That’s a no-no. So he has to be punished. We’re not a democracy. My father leads our people and Drantos openly questioned his authority. The punishment is to discourage others from doing the same. Drantos will take some lashings. It’s no big deal.”

  Bat frowned.

  “You know we heal fast,” he gently reminded her. “My father would have attacked and killed anyone else for arguing with him. He would have seen it as a challenge. Others can’t see him as weak, even for his own sons. Drantos needs to be punished in some form for what happened.”

  “Sounds kind of messed up to me.”

  “My people come with claws and sharp teeth, Hellion. It’s about the alpha mentality. Weaknesses aren’t abided in a leader.”

  “Got it.”

  Kraven put on his belt. “We need to go. I figure at the rate we’re traveling, we should reach Los Angeles sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I have to pee.”

  He clenched his teeth. “Or perhaps tomorrow evening.”

  “Just find me a bathroom.”

  “Fine, but it slows us down every time we have to stop.”

  “My bladder doesn’t work on a schedule. Don’t take me to one of those horrible rest areas either. They have the most disgusting bathrooms.”

  Kraven checked traffic and accelerated on the shoulder, merging over into the slow lane. “You’re really demanding.”

  “It’s called having standards. I can’t just whip it out and aim. Women need to get up close and personal in a stall. Men have it easy. I don’t think it’s asking too much to find decent facilities.” She pointed. “There. See that sign? A restaurant has health inspectors.”

  Kraven sighed.

  “And I’m hungry again.”

  “You bought some snacks at the gas station, remember? They’re in the bag at your feet.”

  “I’m in the mood for something hot.”

  “Maybe we’ll arrive in Los Angeles the day after next.”

  “Don’t be a drama queen.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t even know how to take that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bat was glad the road trip had ended. Kraven had refused to stop at restaurants after the second one, determined to arrive in L.A. before nightfall the following day. His mood had turned outright snarky when that hadn’t happened.

  The taxi finally stopped in front of her building forty minutes after they’d dropped off the rental car. Traffic had been a nightmare. She tried to get out of the vehicle the moment it stopped but Kraven grabbed her arm.

  He shoved money through the slot to pay the driver. “Stick close to me.”

  She jerked out of his hold and shoved open the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. He slid out after her, dragging his bag.

  “Wait.” He closed the door and latched on to her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

  Bat tapped her foot until the taxi pulled from the curb. “I just want to take a shower and eat real food. That stuff you tried to shove at me earlier tasted like cardboard. Hustle it.”

  He had the nerve to growl.

  “Don’t even. I’m never taking another long road trip with you again.”

  “It was no picnic for me either. I’ve got kinks in my legs from sitting and drive all night and day.”

  “I bet you love picnics, living in Dog Bark.”

  “Howl.”

  “Whatever. I’m cranky.” She could easily admit the obvious. “So are you.”

  He inclined his head. “Agreed. It’s been a trying day.”

  “Nobody likes shit traffic jams. Your snarling and blowing the horn didn’t help either.”

  “Humans are stupid.”

  “Not all of us are,” she snapped. “But yeah, there seemed to be a lot of morons out on the road today.”

  “I thought you wanted to pack some of your things. Well? We’re at your building.”

  She turned her head, staring at the large glass doors of the elegant building across the street. Some of her anger faded. “I wondered if I’d ever see it again.”

  “We’re not staying long. In and out. That’s it, Bat. Twenty minutes, tops. You pack one bag and we’re gone.”

  “We’ll be safe here. You’ll see.” She spun, striding toward the crosswalk.

  Kraven hurried his pace and caught up to her, clutching her hand. She allowed it since they’d joined a group of people clustered together waiting for the lights to change. It was bumper to bumper traffic. The walk sign lit up and Bat stepped off the curb. He stayed at her side.

  “What in the hell does that mean?” Kraven finally asked.

  “I’m going to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  She decided to stop arguing with him. Her stomach rumbled from the distant memory of the inedible lunch she’d tried to choke down. She’d kill for a shower too.

  Bat led him to the front doors that automatically slid open. The reception area was a glassed-in space with couches and a few artificial plants. She spotted Doug at the front desk and grinned. He stood up behind the glass security walls that separated him from the rest of the room. He clicked on the intercom.

  “May I help you?” His gaze gave Bat a once-over and his upper lip curled.

  She’d forgotten what she was wearing. Kraven’s cut-up sweats and oversized shirt, plus she probably looked horrible. Her clothes were wrinkled from being in a car for so long. “Yes. You can let me in. I don’t have my keys.”

  Doug actually rested his hand on his holstered gun. “Excuse me?”

  It sank in that he didn’t recognize her. Bat felt irritated but quickly let it go. She wasn’t wearing makeup and he’d never seen her less than impeccably dressed. “It’s me, Doug. Batina Dawson.”

  Doug’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. His gaze lowered down her body again, then he seemed to study her face closely.

  “Seriously?” Her irritation grew. “I give you a two hundred dollar Christmas bonus every year. You just had a little boy with your wife over the summer. You named him Mike. He’s got your wife’s green eyes but looks just like you. You show me pictures of him often. He’s just learning how to crawl. I sent catered food to your house once when the security team said you and your wife both had the flu and I figured neither of you probably felt like cooking; I had soups and specialty breads delivered. Ring any bells?”

  “Ms. Dawson.” Doug released his gun, still appearing stunned. He gave her one more inspection from head to foot. “You look so different.”

  “I was in a plane crash and just survived the road trip from hell.”

  He paled. “Shit.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I lost everything. My luggage. My purse. I’ll need my spare key from the safe.”

  Doug nodded but his gaze slid to Kraven. “Who’s your guest?”

  She had never asked him his last name. “This is Mr. Kraven. He was nice enough to bring me home. He’s a fellow survivor. We met in Alaska.”

  Doug nodded. “You know procedure.”

  “Of course.” She’d forgotten. She turned her head to peer at Kraven. “You need to step outside for a minute.”

  “What?” Kraven frowned.

  She pointed at the glass barriers in the room. “See those? We need to be buzzed through. No one can get past them without a resident’s permission. You need to step out so he knows you’re not forcing me to let you in.”

  Kraven just gawked at her.

  “It’s for the safety of every resident in the building. I told you the security here is excellent. Go outside and take your bag with you. I’ll wave you back in when he knows you’re not some criminal intent on robbing me or worse. You could be threatening to shoot me, or have a bomb in your bag ready to go
off if I don’t do whatever you want. See where I’m going with this? Just step out and he’ll know you’re here because I want you to be and not because I’m under duress.”

  “Unbelievable.” Kraven released her hand and stormed toward the sliding doors.

  Doug released his gun and stepped over to the controls. The doors locked with a buzz after Kraven exited the building. Bat waited for Doug to look at her again.

  “He’s really a friend.”

  “Okay. Are you alright, Ms. Dawson? Do you want me to see if one of the doctors are home and can take a look at you?”

  “That’s so sweet but I’m fine. I just need real clothes again, and food. I’ll be ordering something so expect a delivery.” She grimaced, glancing down. “I really did lose everything.”

  Doug released the exterior locks with another buzz. Bat waved at Kraven and he strode back inside. He didn’t appear too happy. Doug opened the interior doors for them both, and Bat led Kraven through before Doug locked the doors again and came around his desk.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Ms. Dawson. I’ll need your code for the safe.”

  “Of course. Three, three, six, nine, zero.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Doug walked over to the door behind his desk and pressed his thumb on the lock, then punched in a code. As soon as he disappeared, Bat turned to Kraven. “It won’t take long. He’s just grabbing the spare keys to my place.”

  “Code?”

  “Every resident has a small safe inside the security office where we store spare keys.”

  “Why?”

  “In case we lose ours.”

  “I meant, why a safe?”

  “In case of a breach. That way thieves can’t just grab the keys to everyone’s units. They’d have to get past reception to here, which is tough, since that glass is bulletproof and rated to withstand small bombs. Next, they’d have to break through that security door to the next office.” She paused. “After that, they’d have to deal with individual safes to obtain keys. The police would arrive and arrest them around that time, so the residents are pretty safe.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve said that. It’s a high-security building. I also need a key card for the elevator. Every key is coded to a floor. My card takes us directly to the fourteenth floor, and the general floors like the lobby and parking garage. That’s it.”

  “Who the hell lives here to warrant that kind of paranoia?”

  Bat crossed her arms over her chest. “This is Los Angeles. Not Howl. Crime is high. This is how we avoid home invasions, some residents have stalkers…then there are the paparazzi. They can’t be allowed into the building.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Who needs protection from all that?”

  “Other attorneys. Doctors. Trust-fund kids.” She shrugged. “There’re a few movie studios who keep apartments here, so we get plenty of movie industry people. Musicians. You name it. If they have money and want to live in a safe place, this is it.”

  He glanced around. “I bet it costs a fortune.”

  “Hence why I said ‘if they have money’. The association fees alone are nearly three grand a month.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “It’s worth every penny.”

  Doug returned, holding an envelope. “I’ll send Brian up with the food as soon as it arrives, Ms. Dawson. Welcome home and I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. Doug was one of her favorites.

  “Call down if you change your mind about wanting a doctor to look you over. I’m pretty sure Dr. Mitchells and Dr. Young are going to be home for the rest of the evening.”

  “I appreciate that but I’m fine.” She reached out and patted his arm, accepting the envelope. “Thank you.”

  Bat used her fingernail to unseal it and led Kraven to the elevators. She pulled out the keycard and pushed the button. When doors opened, she entered and he followed her inside. She slid the card in a slot, the doors closed, and the elevator began to lift.

  “You didn’t push any buttons.”

  “I don’t have to. We’re at the lobby.” She reached inside the envelope again and withdrew the single key to her home. “I’d have to press a button when I leave my floor. I could go to the lobby, or parking garage one or two.”

  Kraven shifted his weight. He didn’t look very comfortable. “Who’s Brian? What food?”

  “He’s one of the runners. They run errands for the tenants. Food deliveries are accepted at reception, since we can’t have delivery people inside the building. It’s a security risk. One of the runners brings food to the tenants. All employees here have had extensive background checks done on them, as well.” She licked her lips. “I’m starving. I plan to order us something.”

  “Why can’t you just go down and get it yourself?”

  Bat grinned. “Because I don’t have to, and it’s part of the perks of living here. I mentioned those steep association fees.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “Is that your new word for the day?”

  He glared.

  The elevator stopped and Bat stepped out first. “You’re so grumpy. Come on.”

  She stopped at her apartment and grabbed the mail off the table next to it before unlocking the door.

  “They just leave your mail there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you worried someone will steal it?”

  “There are only six residents who have access to this floor and there’s a camera.” She jerked her head toward the far corner to indicate where it was located. “It would be stupid of them; they’d be caught.” She shoved open the door and flipped on the lights, stepping aside for Kraven to enter.

  She watched his face, curious about his reaction.

  He took a few steps inside and looked around. His mouth pressed together in a tight line. She guessed he didn’t like her decor. She glanced around too as she closed and locked the door. The walls were dark, the floors white, and it complimented her black furniture.

  “You don’t like black and white?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I like it, and it’s my home.” She bent, tearing off the shoes. “Let’s order food. I’m starving. Don’t bother arguing with me. I know what you’re going to say but I want cooked food from a real kitchen, by people who take pride in their work. Does Chinese sound okay? They’re the closest and can deliver quickly.”

  “Sure.”

  She walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer. “Here’s the menu.”

  “Just order whatever you usually do. I guess we can eat.” He dropped his bag on the floor and entered her living room, seeming interested in some of the photos she kept of her and Dusti over the mantel of the gas fireplace.

  She removed the right menu and dialed, recognizing the voice of the woman who answered. “Hi, Vera. It’s Batina Dawson.” She sized up Kraven. He was a big man. “Send me the variety dinner spread I usually order. Make it for six people. Charge it to my card with the normal tip.”

  “Of course, Ms. Dawson. You said dinner? Not just appetizers?”

  Bat realized it must be later than she thought. “Yes.”

  “What time does your company arrive?”

  “Immediately.”

  Vera chuckled. “You forgot you have guests coming again?”

  She sighed. “It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. I invited some of the interns over to my place. We’ve had to put in a lot of overtime and they’ve been busting their ass so they deserve a reward,” she lied. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem. We always appreciate your business. We’ll have it there in about twenty-five minutes.”

  Bat hung up and frowned. Kraven had moved to her shelves, reading the titles of books displayed. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

  “We’re not staying long. I told you that. Go pack. We’ll eat and then we’re out the door.”

  “You saw the securit
y my building has. We’re safe here, Kraven. No one is going to get past reception.”

  He abandoned her shelves and entered the dining area near her. Bat narrowed her gaze, leery as she watched Kraven take notice of the framed headlines she’d carefully cut from newspapers to hang on the wall. They were some of her toughest cases that she’d won. Most hadn’t earned her public likability but she was proud of beating the seemingly impossible odds. His mouth twisted into a grimace but he didn’t speak.

  “You don’t approve?” It was a good guess.

  He turned and held her stare. “You helped killers remain free.”

  “Everyone deserves the best defense possible. Even pond scum. I’m supposed to win because that’s my job. Some people are actually innocent of the crimes they’re accused of, you know. I do a lot of good in some cases.”

  He glanced over at the wall, then back at her. “Why do you hang these?”

  She gave up on the idea of an immediate shower. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  She yanked open the fridge, removing two bottled waters. The island was between them when she spun, slamming both of them down. She used her toes to close the door. The silence in the room grew uncomfortable as they watched each other.

  Kraven advanced until he paused on the other side of the granite slab. “Why keep trophies if you hate the people you represent?”

  “I’m good at what I do.”

  “Why are they there, Bat?”

  He reached over and rested his bigger hand over hers. She jerked away and he lifted one of the bottles of water, twisting the cap open. He took a long sip of the drink and she watched him swallow. He didn’t fit into her apartment with his rugged good looks and biker clothing.

  “Answer me. I refuse to let this drop.”

  She believed that. “Fine. I do hate my job. But I beat the odds on some of the toughest cases. It’s a challenge. I like to look at them in the morning when I’m having my coffee. It helps motivate me to go to work.”

  He blinked a few times but didn’t say a word.