Chapter 11
11
AUSTYN
I can’t believe that fucker deserted us.
There’s no hope that Walter will return, no matter what I glimpsed on Tate’s face. Thankfully, he was already out of the barn when Walter went off. Complaining that I was coddling Tate and he’d done his best to help us, but he was done. It was out of his hands.
Fuck him.
Except, this is all my fault. I crossed the line with Tate. I should have been focused on getting him ready.
“You were supposed to be guarding him.” Petroni’s hard voice matches his eyes.
“Yes, sir. I was—I mean—” Crack. The guard’s mouth drops open, and he falls to the ground.
“No more mistakes.” Petroni lowers his Sig Sauer P-320 handgun. “Find the pirate. But don’t kill him. He’s mine.”
No one moves as they stare at him with wide eyes. This isn’t usual. Killing humans is sometimes necessary. But killing fellow dinos?
“Now,” he bellows. A few men scatter. Unfortunately, not the ones guarding Tate and me. But this should make it easier to escape. Except, in his current mood, Petroni might kill us without another thought. Maybe not Tate, but I’m expendable.
One brave—or stupid—guard steps forward. “Sir, what about them?”
Petroni grips his gun so tight his fingers are white, shining off the faint light of the building. He seems conflicted. “Take them to the holding cells and separate them. The rest of you, find me that pirate.”
They herd us into a side-by-side ATV. Tate and I are in the back seat with two guards in the front and one on the flatbed standing over us. My thoughts race as I push back the panic threading up my spine. Why are they separating us? It doesn’t make sense. Not if I’m the bait. Maybe I was right before. They no longer need me.
We get tossed around as the goon drives fast over rough terrain. Something knocks against my foot too many times to be anything but intentional. Tate’s boots—the ones I convinced him to wear—are scuffed and dirty. When his foot taps mine again, I sneak a glance and try to hide my smile. He grins. It’s quick and reassuring. My mind flashes back to earlier in the barn. Tate’s arms around me. His whispered promises that he’ll never let anyone hurt me.
Emotion clogs my throat, making breathing difficult. I let him down. Wait, that’s not just regret. We’re driving through smoke. I cough a few times and cover my mouth. The explosion site—the ammunition shed—has thick black smoke pouring from it. Is the fire still going, or is it just smoldering?
I have to give Walter credit. The ammunition shed was the perfect target. Not only as a distraction—even though it didn’t work to our advantage—but it also took out their cache of guns. The destruction from the explosion extended past the charred building. Several of the surrounding buildings are also damaged. Men crowd the area. How many men does he have? And how can we escape if Tate refuses to shift?
A guard herds me toward one of the outbuildings while the other two escort Tate in the other direction. He glances over his shoulder, searching until he finds me. Then, a guard smacks him on the side of his head with a gun. Fuck. I struggle to break free from my guard, but he pushes me into the building and shuts the door. The locks click.
My Troodon thunders to get out. I can’t shift. Not yet. But I entertain myself by imagining my razor-sharp claws slicing open his throat.
“Good morning, Austyn.”
I twist around, my body automatically going into a fighting position.
Now I have a new target. Victor Jacobs is dressed impeccably in a gray Fiore suit. My fingers itch to touch the expensive fabric, but I focus on the anger simmering under my skin. The fucking gall of this asshat. He wears fancy suits while his men do the dirty work and finance his rich lifestyle off his fellow dinosaurs. God, I fucking hate him.
He snaps his fingers and a guard I haven’t noticed grabs my arm and pushes me into one of the chairs in front of Jacobs. “Now that you’re here, we can have a chat.”
I tuck my anger away. It won’t help me. “We’ve worked together amicably for years. Decades. Now, suddenly, I’m being strongarmed. Kidnapped. That’s no way to do business, Vic.”
The room is large and empty except for a few chairs. It seems like a waste. Or is this room used for something else? Jacobs sits across from me and rests his arms on his legs. “True. Our alliance has always been profitable for both of us.”
“I didn’t do it for the money. I want to help our people.”
His lip twitches. And I fight to keep my face impassive. Stay calm.
“You still took the money, Austyn.” He brushes something off his pants and the gold band on his ring finger catches my attention. The gold has red streaks in it, reminding me of something. “But to answer your unasked question, things have changed. A war is coming.” His eyes meet mine, and I’m immediately cold. The lack of warmth is—terrifying. “Whose side are you on?”
I don’t react because that’s what he wants. But inside, I’m a mess. I’ve heard the rumors, of course. And then the visit months ago from Killian and Beau. They talked about a secret government operation. And controlling dinosaurs. Is that what this is about?
But Jacobs awaits my answer, and I’ve been silent too long. “You first, Vic.” I wave my hand. “You tell me which one you’re on, and I’ll happily be on the other side.”
“Don’t be flip.” His eyes spark to life as he leans forward. “The danger is real. They want to cage dinosaurs. Control them. Treat them as property?—”
“And how are you any different?”
He stands so quickly that I jerk back. Shit. I should have kept him talking. “I’m trying to save dinosaurs, unlike our government friends .” He spits the words like they’re offensive. “You’re talented and useful. But I will not let anyone get in my way. Do you understand?”
“Absolutely. I get it. I’m not expendable. Until I am. Just like the guard Petroni killed. A Triceratops, if I remember correctly. Are we killing our own kind now? If so, we’re no better than they are.”
He blinks and his lips part, but nothing comes out. Did he not know? He straightens. All uncertainty vanishes. “I’ll deal with Petroni. You do your part.”
“Which is?” But I already know what he’s going to say.
“Tate Goodman needs to shift.”
He’s halfway to the door before I ask the question. “Why?”
“We need to assess his capabilities.” And before I can ask why again, he adds, “We’re building an army. And no one has the luxury of sitting this one out.”