“Like I give a damn what she thinks,” Kraven grunted as he climbed to his feet.
Dusti stared at the other man when he appeared in the aisle a row ahead of where she sat. His black hair looked worse for wear, some of his spikes crushed flat on one side of his head. It gave him the bedhead look of a punker gone bad. Maybe a punk biker, considering the leather jacket he was sporting. He frowned down at something below him.
“What are you? A masseuse?” He lifted his chin and shot Drantos a dirty look. “I swear she crushed my dick.”
Bat struggled to her feet, her blonde hair in a messy ponytail now that her neat bun had been loosened from the crash. She glowered at the man, who gave her that angry look right back. “Why did you grab me like that? What the hell is your problem?”
“I was protecting you. I’m Kraven. You can thank me later, by the way.”
“Thank you?” Bat gawked at him. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t have your ass arrested for sexual assault, battery, and…hell, bad hair! Move out of my way. I need to check on my sister.” Bat tried to shove him aside, her gaze locking on Dusti. Relief showed on her features.
Dusti forced her body to move and she tried to stand but Drantos held out his arm, holding up a hand as if to tell her to stay. She stared up at him.
“Could you please move? You’re in my way.”
He arched a black eyebrow at her. “My brother can take care of your sister. He’s in charge of her now. You just stay put while I deal with this mess.”
Shock rolled through Dusti again. In charge of her? His words played through her mind. They left her even more confused as her gaze flickered back and forth between the two men standing just feet apart, with only a seat between them. They both had tan skin, huge bodies and black hair, but she wouldn’t have previously pegged them for brothers.
Now, as she stared, she started to see some similarities—the strong bone structure for one and the generous lips for another. The spiked-haired guy had light blue eyes though instead of dark.
“Help me,” a man called from the back of the plane. “Please, help!”
Drantos sighed. “I’ve got it.” He inched out from between the seats and into the aisle. “Kraven, watch them and keep them both where they are. We’ve got dead bodies in here, and panicked types who I never trust not to go crazy in a crisis.”
Kraven nodded. “I have the women.”
“Have this, you jerk.” Batina sounded riled still.
Dusti flinched when her sister nailed the unsuspecting guy in the chest with her expensive footwear. Kraven staggered back in astonishment and Bat lunged around him to reach her. Dusti rose to her feet on trembling legs, a moment of wooziness making her see spots, but she pushed the sensation back to hug her sister.
Bat clung to her tightly, both of them enormously relieved the other had survived.
Dusti pulled back enough to get a really good look at her sister’s face. There was a red mark near Bat’s right temple. It wasn’t bleeding but it looked as if it might become a bruise. Her complexion was unnaturally pale but Dusti figured she probably had that in common with her. They’d just been in a plane crash, for God’s sake.
“It’s okay, Bat. I’m okay. Are you hurt?”
Bat eased her hold on her a little. “Nothing a good drink won’t fix. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Dusti gave a little nod but then looked away from her sister to stare in dismay at the cabin around them. Injured people were still strapped in their seats, but worse, a guy lay sprawled in his seat across the aisle next to the torn-away section of the fuselage. He was bloody and definitely dead. No one could be missing an arm that had been sheared off at the shoulder and survive. Bright red drenched his chest and lap—fresh and wet looking.
Dusti heard someone gag, only to realize she’d made the sound herself as bile rose.
Bat grabbed her face by cupping her cheeks. It jerked her horrified gaze away from the sight and forced her to stare at her sister instead. “Look at me and not that.”
Tears welled in Dusti’s eyes that she tried to blink away. She stared into her sister’s gaze, very much resembling her own since they looked so similar. “Oh God!”
“I know,” Bat crooned. “We survived though. We’re Dawsons. We’re tough, remember? Just take deep breaths. In and out. Remain calm.”
Dusti didn’t feel very tough at all. She was in shock, and she knew it. It was difficult to think, a surreal feeling fogging her mind. Too many awful things had happened in a short timeframe and everything seemed a nightmare at that moment. It helped to concentrate on her sister’s face. Bat caressed her gently with her thumbs.
“It’ll be fine. We both made it. We’re okay.” Her sister always knew how to keep her head—if not her tongue—in a bad situation.
“Sit down,” the spiked-haired man ordered harshly. “And I’ll spank you if you hit me with another shoe, you little hellion.”
Bat released Dusti’s cheek without missing a beat to raise her middle finger at the guy behind her. “Take a hint and get away from me, you perverted bastard. You should have picked another woman to molest.”
Kraven, if that was his real name, stepped closer. He looked dazed when Dusti glanced at him. He didn’t seem like someone you could be rude to without dire consequences, but her sister dealt with the dregs of humanity and didn’t seem overly concerned. She was used to stressful situations. Plus, her sister could be a first-rate bitch. That’s how she’d made partner at her law firm by the age of thirty-three. She defended the worst criminals, and had made a name for herself as a cold-hearted ball-buster in the courtroom.