Chapter 9
9
AUSTYN
The explosion rocks the house, and I grab the nearest bedpost as shouts and footsteps thunder around us. Tate clings to the tall dresser, his face ashen. Is he going to be sick? We don’t have time for that.
“There’s our cue. Times up, lads. Let’s go.”
Walter checks the hallway and motions for us to follow. My heart pounds faster as I grab my bag and give Tate a pointed look. He nods, reluctantly releasing his hold on the dresser. We aren’t ready for this. Tate isn’t ready. But what choice do we have?
The shouts are farther away now. Will Walter’s plan actually work? And can we trust him?
The faint smell of smoke drifts up the stairs as we make our way down. What the hell did Walter blow up? He stops abruptly, halting us in our tracks. Tate bumps into me, and I grab the banister to keep from dominoing into Walter.
“Sor—” Tate starts, but Walter’s glare cuts off his apology. He gulps and, after a few seconds, gasps for breath. Tate is a hot mess. Why didn’t I focus more on meditation and staying calm?
Oh, right. I didn’t know Walter would blow something up and stage a rescue. Or a trap.
After a few heart-stopping moments, he signals us to move forward again. The door is only a few feet away. All we need to do is get outside. If the explosion was on the other side of the property, we have a chance. Jacobs and his goons will be preoccupied.
Or they’re waiting for us on the other side of this door.
Walter holds up his hand and checks outside. Tate vibrates beside me. Fear? Or is his dino eager to play? Don’t do anything rash, Tate . But I can’t say the words aloud, so I touch his wrist until his pulse slows and evens out. If he hadn’t hid so much from me, we could have accomplished more. I could have prepared him—but there’s no time for recrimination or regrets. This is happening.
“Get ready, lads,” Walter says in a low voice. “It’s party time.” He slips out the door, and as I take a step to follow, Tate grabs my arm.
“Aus?”
I can hear his question as if he’d said it aloud. Can we trust him? This could be a trap, but we don’t have time to debate it. And—I actually believe Walter. They could have ambushed us while we slept. He didn’t have to help us. I squeeze Tate’s wrist and then pull his arm off me as I follow Walter out the door.
The floodlights over the door shine a spotlight on us, and we rush across the perfectly manicured lawn and duck between two smaller buildings. Should we shift? I’d be more effective in my dino form. I’m small and quick. Walter is bigger. He’d be hard to miss. But he’s not the only Pentaceratops here. But Tate? The impression I got from earlier when he was trying to shift—no, trying not to shift—is that he’s big. Too big to hide. And would Tate willingly shift? Doubtful.
Tate leans against the building, his breaths loud. It’s almost impossible for Tate to be quiet. But does it really matter? The compound is in chaos. People yell from multiple directions. Burrrrbuuuboo. Burrrbuuuboo. Fuck. A T. rex. Not far from us. I’d know that sound anywhere since one almost took my head off.
Black smoke billows in the air by the training area. What did Walter blow up? The scent of burned metal and the metallic taste in my mouth gives me clues.
We continue on, avoiding lit paths and skirting around the building lights. I have no idea where we are or where we’re going. During my visits, my movements have been restricted to the mansion and the sparring area. Walter works here. Does he live here too? Did he live here?
Unease twists in my stomach. Why is he helping us?
Walter signals for us to stop and cocks his head. Does he hear something? Other than the chaos around us? Grabbing my arm, he tugs me into the shadows of a nearby building. I grasp Tate’s wrist and pull him with us.
We hear the men before we see them. They aren’t trying to be quiet. There are five of them. All armed. Some with M16 rifles and others with handguns. Great. The man leading them is tall and bulky with a flat face and a buzz cut. One of his eyes is slightly bigger than the other, giving him a lopsided look. The scar on his temple isn’t visible, but I know this T. rex shifter. I gave him that scar.
Johnny—he hates being called Johnny—stops, and the other men follow his lead. His voice is low as he talks into a handheld radio. The voice on the other end is too muffled to make out. “Yes, sir,” Johnny shouts, and beside me, Tate flinches. Johnny holds the radio out, and the men gather around.
“Find them and bring them to me.” The voice over the device is raspy but still distinguishable. Petroni. “Am I clear?”
Johnny pushes the talk button, and they all chime their agreement. “Unharmed?” Johnny asks, sounding disappointed.
“Did I fucking say that?” Petroni shouts, and the men jump, darting nervous glances at each other.
“Um…no, sir.” He swallows hard.
“Don’t kill them. Don’t do irreparable damage. But hurt them all you want. It will be nothing compared to what I have planned.”
“What about the pirate?” another man asks Johnny in a low voice. Walter tenses beside me.
Johnny pushes the button. “What about the pirate?”
“Don’t kill him either,” Petroni says, and Walter relaxes. But only for a moment. “I’m going to kill that fucker myself.”
Johnny tucks the radio away, and Tate sucks in quick breaths that seem too loud now that no one is talking. I take his hand and catch his gaze. Trying to reassure him. How long can Tate hold on? This has the potential to go horribly wrong. I quietly unsheathed my knife from my boot.
Johnny and the others don’t seem to notice as they call dibs on which of us they get to hurt. Jesus. If this is the best Jacobs can do, we might have a chance.
“I want the tailor,” one man says. His big teeth and hunched back remind me of a hyena. Tate stiffens. I can feel it in his body beside me and his hand. Jesus, he’s strong. I hope he doesn’t break my fingers.
“No,” Johnny barks, making the guy and Tate jump. “I have plans for Austyn Burkes. He’s mine.”
What the hell? That was years ago. How can he still blame me? He’s the one who panicked and tried to take my head off. I was just defending myself. But the scar runs from his temple to his jaw. Dinos heal quickly, but if you go deep enough, especially if they’re mid-shift, you can leave a mark.
Tate growls, and my attention returns to not getting hurt. And not letting Tate get hurt. Walter can take care of himself.
“What was that?” Hyena-boy asks, but before anyone can answer, Walter jumps out and stabs the guy next to Hyena-boy with his sword. Taking advantage of the stunned silence, I rush out of our hiding spot. I can’t worry about Tate. He’ll either follow or not.
Johnny is closest to me. As he raises his rifle, I kick his arm with a roundhouse and follow it up by slashing the unscarred side of his face as I twist around. He grabs his cheek and screams curses at me.
“Nice,” Walter says, with a wink and a thumbs-up.
Hyena-boy knocks off Walter’s hat and yanks him off his feet by his hair. “What are you going to do now, pirate?”
“Ow, you fucker.” Walter claws at the hand as he squirms to get loose.
The guy laughs maniacally. “Poor Walter. Always trusting the wrong people.”
He seems to know a lot about Walter, but that’s not surprising since Walter has worked for Jacobs for decades.
Hyena-boy is still grinning when Walter kicks him in the balls. He releases Walter with a high-pitched scream and drops to the ground, wailing. One down. At least for the moment.
Hands grab me and wrench my arms behind my back. I swallow my gasp as pain shoots through me. My shoulders feel like they’re being twisted out of their sockets. I slam my head back and hit nothing but air. This guy must be smarter than the rest. Pain and a punch to the gut force my breath out of me. My body bends into the pain until the guy jerks me upright. But those few seconds were enough to glimpse the men behind me and catch my breath.
Johnny, bleeding profusely from one side of his face, punches me again. I cough, struggling to breathe as adrenaline surges through me. I helped all of these asshats at one time or another. My Troodon wants to destroy them, but I keep control, letting my anger simmer instead of boiling over.
“I’ve dreamed about this moment so many times.” Johnny grins, the blood from his face staining his teeth. His eyes are wild, and I swallow the laugh bubbling in my throat. He never believed in yoga or meditation.
His loss.
“Sorry, Johnny,” I say, keeping my voice even. Disinterested. “I’m taken.” Maybe. But that’s not really the point. He snarls in response. Yup. There it is. That’s the point. “And you’re not really my type.”
You would think dino shifters would be more tolerant. Inclusive. But nope. Some, like Johnny here, are bigoted assholes. “I’m not— That’s not— Fuck you!” His hands clench into tighter fists as rage takes over his face. This next punch is going to hurt.
Which is why I’m not waiting for it. The guy behind me relaxes slightly as Johnny throws his tantrum. Now his fingers flex—wait for it—and he tightens his grip. Adrenaline fuels me as I wrench my arms free and slam my foot down on his. His screams mix with the others around him.
Grabbing my knife, I pivot my focus to Johnny as he’s whooshed away. Tate whips him over his head and then slams him to the ground hard enough for his bones to crunch. Holy shit. How is he that strong in human form? And what the fuck is his dino like?
But I can’t get distracted by that. I turn to the only man standing—currently unarmed. His gaze shifts from his fallen brethren to the rifle on the ground in front of him.
“Go ahead,” Walter says, holding his sword high and grinning ear to ear.
The guy gulps, his eyes huge as he darts a glance at Tate, who is clearly the bigger threat. Aaarrh! Tate raises his arms as he yells at the man. Even in human form, he looks about to bust out of his clothes. The Incredible Hulk, indeed.
Thankfully, he has a good tailor.
The guy squeaks and runs off.
“Should we go after him?” Tate asks, rolling his shoulders. He gulps in air, looking slightly ill. Probably the adrenaline rush. Or the fact that he body-slammed a man so hard that the guy lost consciousness. Or both.
“And do what? Break all his bones? Nah.” He chuckles. “But you did good, kid. Grab their weapons. We need to skedaddle before they wake up.” Walter grabs a rifle and another knife. Tate and I collect the rest, and I grab the handheld radio. It might come in handy.
After going around several buildings, we get to a clearing that leads to the farm portion of the compound. Off to the left are fields of potato and onion crops. On the right is a barn and a few sheds. We dump the weapons we don’t need in a small pond and head up the hill toward the bright-red barn that looks freshly painted. The shed next to it holds several large tractors. In the barn, the sweet scent of hay mixed with manure greets us. A horse whinnies, and we stop, waiting for the animal to settle before moving deeper into the barn. No one’s around. Not that I expected anyone, but it’s good to know we’re alone.
“Are you okay, Tate?” I ask, catching his gaze.
He takes a shaky breath and nods. He isn’t used to this. Any of it.
Some of my tension eases, and I turn to Walter. “What now?”
“We can’t stay here for long.” He scrubs at the stubble on his jaw as he thinks. “We need transportation.” One of the horses snorts, and Walter scowls. “Not a horse. Too slow. Or a tractor. Too obvious. We need a truck or one of the ATVs.”
There are plenty of them here—not in the barn but on the commune—but that doesn’t mean we can use them. “But we need the keys unless you can hotwire one.”
He smirks. “I have many hidden talents.” His wink is aimed at me but not meant for me. This is confirmed when Tate growls and Walter laughs.
I roll my eyes. Jesus. “Then use them to find a way out of this mess.”
Tate groans as he sags against the wall. Is it from exhaustion or guilt? He’s a big teddy bear who doesn’t like hurting anyone. Yet he slammed a man down like he was a WWE wrestler. Tate yawns and his eyes drift shut before he blinks them open again.
I can relate. My eyes feel heavy and itchy from lack of sleep. Was it really only hours ago that Tate held me in his arms? Before I knew he was hiding things from me.
Sitting on one of the haybales, I take a deep breath, clearing my mind of noise as I meditate. This is the only way to gain clarity. To control my emotions and my body. In. Out. In. Out.
When I feel grounded, I open my eyes. Tate is still braced against the wall, and his eyes are closed. Is he meditating? Or sleeping? He struggled with meditation, so my guess is the latter. His lips are parted slightly and his vulnerability, his sweetness, calls to me. I’m still smiling when I glance at Walter. He is not smiling.
“Aus…” He sighs and shakes his head. I’m not used to seeing this side of Walter. Serious but not loud. Not dramatic. I hate it. I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
“Everything’s fine,” I jump in before he can speak. “We’ve been in worse scrapes.”
“When the time comes,” he says in a voice softer than I’ve ever heard from him, “we’ll need to shift. Can he do it?”
My gaze darts to Tate—still “meditating”—and back at Walter. “I don’t know.”
He nods like he expected my answer. His silence speaks volumes. I know his concerns. Hell, I share them. If we shift and Tate doesn’t, he could get hurt. In our dinosaur forms, our focus will be on survival. On taking out the threat. If Tate gets lost or harmed in some way—a thundering ache starts deep in my chest and spreads through my body. My only focus: protect Tate.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
How many guys have I hooked up with in the last million or so years? Too many to count. This isn’t that.
Dinosaurs protect their mates.
“Austyn?” Walter’s voice has a bite to it. Can he tell what I’m thinking? I’m not ready to share my revelation with Walter…or Tate. So I focus on the other thing bothering me.
“What’s going on with Jacobs?” Trying to read Walter is like trying to figure out why we exist in this world. I have theories, of course, but I might never know the truth. But I need answers, so I have to try. “He’s always an ass. But this is new.”
“Is it?”
I’d heard the rumors of dino trafficking, but I hadn’t actually believed them. Was that my way of protecting myself? I worked with Jacobs. Connected other dinos to him so they could get help. What if I was handing them over to someone who hurt them? Sold them. My stomach clenches with nausea and disgust. And overwhelming rage. I take another cleansing breath to clear my mind. And then another.
Walter drags a haybale over and sits across from me. His foot taps mine. “You and the big guy, eh?”
I laugh and shake my head, relieved for some reason. This is the Walter I’m used to. “I’m not giving you details if that’s what you’re after.”
“Pity. Maybe Tate will spill some juicy tidbits.” He leers at me, and I’m pretty sure it’s all an act.
No movement from Tate. We’re talking low, but some shifters have enhanced hearing. Tate is one of them. Hopefully, the lack of reaction means he’s getting some sleep.
Walter shifts his gaze to Tate and back. “He’s the one they want.”
My pulse kicks up at his overly casual tone and the calculating look in his eyes. “Walter?—”
“You know it’s true. Jacobs is annoyed by us, but he’s after Tate.” His eyes are intense. Is he gauging my reaction to his words? “I know you want to save everyone, Aus. But we’re risking our lives.” He leans closer. “Is he worth it?”
I glare at him, fighting back the uncertainty and anger lighting every cell in my body. “This rescue was your idea,” I remind him in a furious whisper. The flash of his grin halts my next words. He’s playing me. But why? What is he after? I say, in a much calmer voice, “Don’t get me wrong, Walter, I appreciate you saving our asses. But second-guessing yourself isn’t your style.”
The amusement fades from his eyes as he picks at a hay straw. “I’m not—” He swallows, still not looking at me. “Tate is valuable to them. And that can’t be good. But sweetheart,” he says, his gaze catching mine, “you’re the bait.”
Right. “That’s why we have to escape.”
“And if we don’t?” He crushes the straw in his hand. “They’ll hurt you to control him.”
Walter, I didn’t think you cared. The jab is there, but I don’t use it. It no longer feels like a joke. “But what’s the alternative? Split up? We’re more powerful together.” Unless…that’s not what he means. “Are you suggesting we give Tate up?” It hurts to even think the words but to say them?—
Tate clears his throat. “Maybe you should.”
My heart races as I jump to my feet. How can I explain this? “Tate…”
“I mean it, Aus,” he says, pushing off the barn wall. His shoulders are slumped as his eyes stare past me. “Turn me over to Jacobs and his men.”