Kraven (VLG Series Book 2)
Read Kraven (VLG Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Laurann Dohner
Batina Dawson wants two things most in her life. She’s determined to become a partner at her law firm and secure her younger sister’s financial future. That’s why she talked Dusti into flying to Alaska, to mend fences with their terminally ill, rich grandfather. It seemed to be a perfect plan—until things go wrong.
The plane crashes and their lives are saved by two large, muscled brothers. Kraven is a spiked-haired menace with a handsome face and a killer body. He also believes she’s in danger from her own grandfather, and that Vampires and Lycans once bred, making him a VampLycan. He even claims her mother was one too. He may have kidnapped Bat, but his misguided hero complex is almost sweet. She knows exactly what defense she’ll use if he becomes one of her clients. Insanity.
Kraven is frustrated. Bat refuses to stop arguing with him at every opportunity. She’s stubborn, mouthy, and oh so sexy. She might be right when she accuses him of being crazy—she’s driving him nuts. But she’s in danger and he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.
Author Note: VLG stands for Vampires, Lycans, Gargoyles…and breeds in
between. Living in Alaska’s harsh, pristine territories, these creatures live and love
fiercely. These are their stories.
Dedication
Always and forever, my thanks to my wonderful husband. He’s more than a partner and a lover, he’s my best friend. This year marks twenty years of marriage, twenty-five years of cuddling with you in our sleep. Where did the time go? It seems like only yesterday when you stole my heart and changed my world for the better.
I’d also like to thank Kelli Collins. She ROCKS as an editor. Thank you for taking me on.
Kele Moon - You’re my sounding board and the person who always keeps me sane and laughing over the trials of writing. I cherish your friendship. You are AWESOME!!!
VLG Series List
Drantos
Kraven
Kraven
Copyright © January 2016
Editor: Kelli Collins
Cover Art: Dar Albert
eBook ISBN: 978-1-944526-02-3
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, except for the case of brief quotations in reviews and articles.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
By Laurann Dohner
Guilt and regret were two things Batina had experienced most of her adult life. She’d talked her baby sister into this trip to visit their dying grandfather. She’d believed it would be for the best if they made peace with their only remaining relative.
Bat’s greedy need to also persuade him to leave them money in his will was about to get them killed.
The tight squeeze on her hand drew Bat from her self-loathing. She turned her head to meet a nearly identical gaze to the one she faced in the mirror every morning. Dusti’s blue eyes were wide open, terrified, and she’d paled with alarm.
The small charter plane’s pilot had informed them they were going to crash. Vibrations shook their seats, the overhead compartments rattled loudly, and no amount of regret would save them.
“Fire in engine two,” a panicked pilot shouted. “Shit! The system is offline. It’s not responding. We’re only twenty miles out but we’re not going to make it to the airfield.”
“Dump the fuel,” the second pilot demanded harshly.
“Got it.” The pilot cursed. “Do you see anything? Do you?”
“It’s just trees. We’re going down hard. Why the hell aren’t they answering? I know it’s a tiny airport but Jesus. Where are they? Maybe we lost communications and they aren’t getting our mayday.”
“Damn cheap bastards for not giving us a backup system,” the other man hissed. “Fuck. We’re going down. Seventeen hundred feet and falling.” He paused. “Sixteen hundred.” He paused again for several long seconds. “Fifteen hundred. Shit!”
“It’s been good knowing you, Mike.”
“You too, Tim. Drop the landing gear but I don’t know why we should bother. When we hit those trees we’re going to come apart.” There was a pause. “Shit. Cut the mic!”
The attorney inside Bat grimaced. If anyone survived, they’d probably attempt to sue the small airline for that screwup alone, never mind the crash. The pilots had obviously lost their professionalism but she could hardly blame them. They were going to crash, and one glance out the window beyond Dusti confirmed there wouldn’t be a safe place to land. In law school, she’d studied suits filed by families of the deceased enough times to know the end result of plane versus wooded area.
Bodies—dead ones.
Her grasp tightened on Dusti. They were born two years apart but had been as close as two people could possibly be growing up. It had fallen upon Bat at the tender age of eighteen to raise her younger sister, still in high school when their parents had died tragically. She’d had to make tough choices…selling the family home they both loved, moving them into a cheap apartment. She’d entered law school to make a better life for them both.
What did it get me?
Her frantic mind paused on that thought. She’d just earned a huge promotion by nearly killing herself, putting in massive amounts of overtime. She’d accepted nightmare cases no one else in her firm would touch with a ten-foot pole. No amount of soap would ever clean away the filth she called clients. Most had been guilty of crimes she’d secretly hoped would send them to prison, but losing on purpose hadn’t been an option.
I hate my life, hate what I’ve become, and now I’m going to take my sister out with me because I thought our grandfather would leave us his damn money.
Movement from the right tore her from her thoughts. Two burly thugs were making their way toward the cockpit along the narrow, downward-sloping aisle. They had to grip seats to avoid being pitched forward when the entire fuselage quaked.
Terrific
, she thought.
They’re probably going to storm the cockpit, thinking they can do better than the pilots. Who gives a shit at this point? We’re going down either way.
The guy in the lead suddenly paused next to her seat. His jean-clad thigh rubbed her arm before nearly crushing it against the armrest. She jerked it away—and then gasped when he lifted a leg to step over hers. He wedged his big body between Dusti and the seat in front of her.
Something brushed her leg, again from the aisle, and her mouth dropped open completely when the second thug put a boot between her high heels. He nearly stepped on her foot. Both men faced Bat and her sister.
Astonishment muted her when he planted the second boot between her feet and shoved her legs apart until her knee breached the aisle. She gaped at the front of his tight, faded jeans directly in front of her face. He had a skull on his belt buckle, and her gaze lifted to take in a flat stomach covered in a black tank top, a leather biker jacket, all the way up to his tanned face and spiked black hair.
He didn’t look at Bat, but instead glanced at the man in front of her sister.
Dusti gasped. “What—”
“Good luck, Kraven. Love you.”
The guy wedged between Bat’s thighs replied, “Love you too, bro.” He sighed, a look of grim resignation on his ruggedly handsome features.
Ask them what the hell they think they’re doing!
she ordered her mouth, but it refused to work.
The one in front of Dusti spoke. “I’m Drantos.”
He needs a haircut in the worst way. He also needs a personal shopper to pick out clothes that don’t make him look like a biker
, she determined.
Wait a minute. I’m losing my mind! What the hell am I thinking?
Oblivious to her inner crazy-talk, the man continued, “We’re hopefully going to save your asses by protecting you with our bodies. We might survive this if we don’t blow up or get ripped apart on impact like the pilot thinks. I’m hoping he’s wrong about that.”
The spiked-headed hulk in front of her dropped to his knees and put his hands on her before she could do more than gasp. Her knees were shoved up roughly, pinned under his leather jacket and tight to his sides, nearly in his armpits, his thick biceps trapping them in that position. Her mouth parted to scream but his body slammed roughly against hers with enough force to knock the air from her lungs.
Shock kept her from fighting him off when he unfastened her seat belt. An arm encircled her ass and jerked her against something metal that painfully pressed into her pelvic bone. The scent of leather and male filled her nose when he adjusted enough for her to pant in air again.
The hard press of something against her panties finally made her struggle, but the guy had a death grip on her. He wiggled his hips in a suggestive manner that had her crying out. Whatever was digging in to her rubbed when he adjusted again, and she wondered if this was the beginning of a sexual assault. One last nasty thrill for him before the plane went down.
It wouldn’t surprise her; not after the guy she’d defended two years ago who had been into necrophilia. Of course, Bat wasn’t dead yet, so it was probably considered a bonus to the psycho to rape her both before and after she died.
“Let her go!” Dusti shouted.
Bat would have turned to check on her sister but the asshole assaulting her squeezed her in a bear hug that threatened to crush her rib cage. She clawed at him as best she could with her hands, her nails digging into his thin cotton top, and she could feel hard flesh under her fingers. He snarled next to her ear, gripped her wrists, and shoved them down his body between his thighs. They clamped around her hands so tightly she winced.
What in the hell? What does he think he’s doing?
Her stunned mind remembered what the long-haired guy in need of a haircut had said.
They think they’re going to protect us with their bodies? They have to be on drugs.
She ceased her struggles, knowing no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t win against a possibly amped-up drug addict.
Screams erupted inside the small fuselage and Bat grabbed hold of the guy’s thigh just for something solid to cling to. The other passengers could see what she couldn’t, what with her face buried against a black top and most of her head tucked inside his thick jacket. She moaned softly, knew with certainty they were about to slam into the ground, and she actually pressed firmer against the stranger.
We’re going to die, he’s holding me, I’m not alone.
I love you, Dusti. I’m so sorry I―
A violent impact with something threw the guy holding her backward, her body slamming hard into his, and the sick sensation of her stomach being shoved up into her throat kept her from screaming along with the other passengers. Strong blasts of air whipped her and the plane slammed into something else, hard enough that she heard metal screech in protest.
One vicious jolt sent her and the man cradling her into the air, and she momentarily knew pure terror. Memories of a childhood trampoline flashed at the weightless feeling of being tossed, and then they landed brutally. She came down on top of the man, his body cushioning the impact. He made a horrible hissing grunt and while his hold on her didn’t loosen, his hands did slide a little on her body. The arm under her ass ended up around her lower back, and the one protecting her shoulders was now pressed firmly against the back of her head.
Something slammed into her, the press of perhaps another body falling on top of hers. She couldn’t breathe, sandwiched between the stranger’s torso and the pressure against back. Then an explosion sent a sharp stab of pain directly into her brain through her ears from the loud blast, and they rolled into something hard, unforgiving, before agony shot up her rib cage.
The back of her head bounced painfully against the floor, which vibrated with an intense shudder before everything came to a grinding halt that rolled their bodies once more.
The sudden stillness was eerie. Then everything she could hear became proof of life.
The guy sprawled over her had a heartbeat that pounded erratically where her ear remained crushed securely against his chest. Bat lay there pinned until he suddenly yanked his arms out from under her body. She gasped in a lungful of air when the guy lifted up enough to separate their torsos. She opened her eyes to stare at him but remained too traumatized to speak.
She took note that some of the spiked-up hair on top of his head had been flattened during the crash, giving him a dazed, somewhat boyish appearance.
On closer inspection of his ruggedly masculine features, she ditched that opinion.
A grim man in his early thirties regarded her with an air of danger that couldn’t be considered boyish or innocent by any standards. He blinked a few times, drawing her attention to thick, lush eyelashes the same color as his jet-black hair. The light blue shade of his eyes made them appear intense, as if he could peer straight into her soul or read her mind.
He growled in a manner that reminded her of a guard dog about to attack. Bat startled.
“Let go.” He was the owner of the deepest baritone she’d ever heard.
Her confused brain struggled to make sense of anything at that point. She continued to stare up at him until one thought surfaced.
We’re not dead.
“KRAVEN?” It was the other man’s voice, from somewhere nearby.
“Fuck,” the guy on top of Bat snarled. “We’re alive. Did yours make it?”
“She’s alive.”
Bat prayed the stranger referred to Dusti. But she needed to see her sister herself, make certain she wasn’t hurt. Her mouth opened but the huge guy on top of her continued talking to the other man.
“I hate flying.” He grimaced. “I mentioned that, right?”
“Several times, but we’re not flying anymore, are we? I don’t mind flying but I hated the crashing part. I bet you wish you were still in the air right now. Quit bitching and let’s see how bad the situation is. We survived. That’s all that counts in the end.”
They’re joking? Seriously?
Rage quickly replaced the numbness from the disaster they’d just endured. “Get off me. You’re crushing me!”
The guy frowned but didn’t move. Bat tried to move her hands but they were still trapped between their bodies, his weight locking them in place at her pelvic area, and frustration rose quickly.
“Bat?” Dusti’s voice quivered. “Are you okay?” She sounded close.
Bat twisted her head, trying to peer around the man on top of her, but couldn’t see anything in the aisle but the sides of seats next to them in the narrow space. “Dusti! Thank goodness you’re alive! Are you all right? Get
off
me, asshole! You weigh a thousand pounds. I need to check on my sister!”
A soft growl came from the man—Kraven—and his blue gaze narrowed to give her a murderous look. “Maybe I
would
get off you if you weren’t gripping my dick. That’s not my thigh you’ve been clutching in terror, woman,” he snarled. “Let.
Go
!”
Bat’s fingers unclenched slowly, hesitantly, until she confirmed
exactly
what she’d gripped in her left hand. Her eyes widened when, as if on its own, her hand gave a gentle squeeze around flesh too small to be his thigh, but still a handful.
She tried to yank her hand away but it had nowhere to go, since he still pinned her. Her only option was to leave the fingers wide open to avoid gripping him again.
“Ewww!” She hated that the squeal escaped her, as if she were a little girl. “Get off me, asshole! My hand is trapped there, damn it.”
