Chapter Six – Hunter

 

“Just knock,” I muttered to myself, knuckles poised over Kris’s hotel door. “What’s the worst that can happen? She turns you down?”

No, the absolute worst was that she could empty her pistol’s magazine through the door, bloodying my shirt and blowing our cover, all for the sole reason that I’d been foolish enough to disturb her without first calling ahead.

I lowered my hand, running it over my smooth cheeks. Hopping in the shower and running a razor over my face had been the first thing I’d done, after plugging in my phone for a recharge. Never underestimate the ability of a good, close shave to make a man feel less like a savage. Luckily, Harrington’s lackeys had laundered what bit of normal clothing I had, so I wasn’t completely out of place here.

My hand drifted back to the door, knuckles poised once more. I swallowed hard, nearly having to chastise myself for a moment about being frightened of asking Kris if she’d like to grab a drink at the hotel bar I’d seen downstairs after our check-in.

Besides, this wasn’t about being friends. This was about inspiring trust, even in the smallest amounts. Kris was a tool to me now, nothing more. And getting her to come out with me for a drink, even just one, would help me to insert myself more fully into her life. After all, she wasn’t going to take advice from someone she didn’t trust.

“You’re not frightened,” I muttered. “You’re just nervous.”

“Hunter?”

My heart stopped for a second, and I fought the urge to duck down and avoid the peephole as it darkened.

“Is that you outside my door?”

Shit. I cleared my throat. “Yes, Kris, it’s me.”

“Are you talking to yourself out there?”

“What? No, of course not.”

The peephole lightened as she moved away, and the chain loosened, and the deadbolt flipped back on her side of the door.

I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and wiggled my fingers like I was loosening them to try and pick a particularly complicated lock.

“What do you want?” she asked as she opened the door just far enough for her to poke her head through the gap, a certain terseness to her voice. Moments later, the hammer on her pistol clicked softly as it settled back into place, followed by her switching the safety back on.

“Just to see if you cared for a drink,” I said, forcing myself to smile. It was always disconcerting to be reminded just how skilled of a killer Kris was, even by dragon standards. “That’s all.”

She frowned, furrowing her brow. “A drink? We have to fly out of here first thing in the morning. Seven in the morning, and we still need to get through security check. Can’t you wait till tomorrow night?” She paused, and her eyes traveled up and down my body. “Wait, are you wearing flannel?”

I smiled. “It’s in style here. Do you want me to seem out of place among all these lumberjacks and rough necks?”

She snorted. “All you need to do is open your mouth, Hunter. No amount of flannel’s ever going to cover up your impeccable breeding.”

I quirked one side of my lips. “Impeccable, hmm?”

“So-called.”

I grinned fully. “At least grab a bite to eat.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s too late to grab a drink, or to sit down for a meal. You should have come by an hour ago.”

I made a face. “It’s only nine o’clock, Kris. I think you can have one drink before you call it a night. And I would have been here sooner, but I was too busy getting cleaned up and deciding on which plaid shirt to wear. I swear, you’re acting as if you’re as old as me.”

She narrowed her eyes till they were nothing but thin slits. “Are you saying I’m some kind of old maid?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “No, I’m saying you’re acting like one. There is, believe it or not, a difference. Besides, it’s been three months since I had a decent scotch. Do you know how many lifetimes that is in the Highlands?”

She didn’t reply, just continued that glare.

“By that rationale,” I replied, “did you just insinuate I was an old man? I’ll have you know, I don’t feel a bit over three centuries. Besides, it’s only how old you feel, not blah blah blah.”

One side of Kris’s lips turned up in a smile. When she actually let herself relax a little, her loveliness really shone through. Not that she wasn’t beautiful already, but knowing that someone isn’t seconds away from pumping you full of rounds does add to the level of attractiveness.

“Well, I would never even imply something so untrue,” she said. “You know that.”

“Uh-huh. Of course not. A no on the drink or dinner, then, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I really shouldn’t, Hunter. The flight down took more out of me than I thought it would, and tomorrow is already going to be a long day. I’m just going to order up some room service, at this point.”

“So you’re a preemptive pumpkin?”

She chuckled, her eyes shifting a little. “Something like that, yes. With my phone on, I’m actually getting emails from the office. I figure I have three months or so of backlog to go through. If I can get through them tonight even part of the way, I’ll be able to hit the ground running first thing tomorrow.”

“As admirable as that sounds, I still think the option I first presented sounds more fun,” I said, sidestepping a little. “I’d say I’ll have one for each of us, but I’m afraid I would awaken your ire once more.”

She frowned. “Just so long as you’re out the door the same time as me, I could care less.”

“Five thirty, then?”

“Five thirty. See you in the morning.”

Kris carefully closed the door behind her, and I spun on my heel and marched down the hall to the elevator.

As I walked, I wondered what it was about Kris that drove me up the wall, in both a good and a bad way. It couldn’t be that we were both dragons. After all, that had never stopped me in the past.

Idly, my thoughts drifted back to the last woman I’d really cared about. Natalya. I’d left her just before the revolution in Russia, headed west from St. Petersburg for my own ends. Some revolutions, you just can’t sign on to, no matter how righteous the revolutionaries believe their cause to be. Besides, you could smell the peasants readying themselves to pick up their pitchforks in the street, and I’d never been one to stick around when the kicked, stomped, and oppressed eventually turned their eyes towards the ivory towers lording over them.

She’d stayed behind, said her allegiance was to her country, and to its intelligence services.

When the coup happened, I returned to the home we’d briefly shared. They’d never even bothered to bury her, just left her to become bones in the basement where they’d forced her up against the wall.

But, it hadn’t been government forces that had done it to her. No, it had been something…darker.

I shook myself free of my depressing trip down memory lane as the elevator buzzed, and stepped inside the carriage. I pressed the button for the lobby and tried to clear my thoughts of her red hair, the way her lips had felt, the way she’d smelled of plums and gooseberry.

Clearly, it didn’t work, and I was still clawing back my reminiscences as the elevator carriage’s door opened. I’d never found mourning over times long gone to be conducive to a sober experience in a bar. And, like I’d promised Kris, I needed to be out the door by 5:30. I stepped out of the elevator and rounded the corner, headed for the small bar just off the lobby area.

It wasn’t exactly what you would call chic. In fact, it was little more than a bar, a set of stools, and a few tables scattered around the area, all coated in a layer of nearly sepia-toned lighting. Seated at one of the barstools was the round-faced young lady who’d checked us in earlier, a half-finished drink resting on the bar in front of her.

I took a seat one over from her, and ordered their best scotch from the bartender when he turned his attention to me.

As I sat there waiting for my drink, the receptionist turned and appraised me with one raised eyebrow.

I smiled a little, flicking my eyes in her direction, but only briefly.

She was attractive enough, with her semi-professional blouse, work skirt, and short hair cut into a bob. What was the phrase? A big city seven, but a small town ten?

“Excuse me?” she asked in a sweet voice.

I glanced her way again. “Yes?”

“Didn’t you check in earlier today?”

“Yes, just an hour or so ago, maybe earlier.”

“This is going to be a strange question. But, didn’t you have a beard?” she asked as the bartender returned with my drink.

Drink in hand, I turned more fully to her as I crossed my legs. I lifted the glass to my lips, took a sip. Awful, but drinkable. I smiled as I set the glass aside. “You’re correct. I did.”

She laughed a little.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, it’s just that, most men who first arrive in town start to grow their beard out, not the other way around. It’s almost like they get a bug or something. First guy I’ve ever seen shave his entirely off.”

“There would lie the problem,” I said as I rubbed my hand over my smooth, shaven cheeks. “I haven’t just arrived in Alaska. I’m actually flying out tomorrow.”

“Oh?” she asked, brushing her golden blonde hair from her face as she propped her head up on the bar with one hand. “Did you enjoy your stay?”

“It’s beautiful up here. But, three months north of the Arctic Circle is plenty for me.”

“Three months?” she asked, eyes wide. “Wow. What were you doing up there? Working a rig or something?”

“Do I look like the type to be working a rig?”

“Well, you are wearing the uniform for it.”

I glanced down at my flannel shirt, chuckling. “No, I was visiting an old acquaintance.”

“Must have been a pretty good friend to travel all that ways for them.”

I smiled a tight smile. “To be honest, no.”

“Why travel all that ways, then?”

“They had something of mine.”

“Did you at least get it back?”

I shrugged. “Not exactly. But they’ll put it in the mail as soon as they can. It’s an odd situation.”

“Sounds like it. What was it like up there? Lived here all my life, and I’ve still never been that far north.”

“Cold,” I said. “And windy.”

So many questions. Natalya had had questions, too. Like how I’d hidden my true nature from humans for so long. And if I was going to stay. And what America and Paris were like.

“What about you?” I asked, taking another sip. “What brings you to Alaska?”

“Born and raised. Lived here all my life.”

“You must have some interesting stories, then.”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Well, maybe not to other people who’ve lived here forever. But surely you know a couple good ones for an out-of-towner like myself?”

Her eyes gleamed a little as the bartender walked up. “Rachel? One more?”

Rachel glanced down at her glass, a look of uncertainty on her face.

“One more, Chuck,” I said. “My tab.”

Her eyes glittered a bit more brightly as she turned to me. “You didn’t have to do that. I practically drink for free, here.”

“I insist,” I said as I got down from my seat and climbed into the one right next to hers. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to have such engaging conversation with an attractive young lady.”

Now, she blushed. And I just gave her that half-smile of mine, which had worked so well in the past.

Drinking alone is never a good idea, especially not when old loves are on your mind. Neither is running into attractive, willing young women.