He twists around and glares—although calling it a glare is like calling Mardi Gras a small get-together. An inferno rages in his eyes as he advances on me. One step. Then another. My heart jumps around like it’s forgotten how to beat properly, and I can’t get any air in my lungs. Damn ropes. The amount of fury and passion in his eyes and body is breathtaking. All that emotion barely holds together as he approaches me…stalking me like prey.

  When he reaches my chair, he plants his feet in front of me. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking up. Which means my gaze is right where it doesn’t need to be. Wait, is he— His hands slam on the arms of my wooden chair, barely missing me, and the only thing keeping me from jumping in my seat is the fact that I’m anchored to it.

  “They should have gagged you, Walter.” His voice is rugged and deep, reminding me of the gorges of Mt. Hope. My eyes slam shut against the onslaught of emotion. Lust, sure—touching all those muscles and God, his mouth—but also a deep longing for the days of old. Not my pirating days. The blissful days of ignorance. Living with these men in a shared space. Being a part of something important. Sharing meals with them. Sparring with them. Hell, even fucking some of them.

  A low guttural sound—one my body recognizes before my brain—has my eyes snapping open. Jatel pins me with a predatory gaze, and a deeper longing squeezes my chest. The cheesy-as-fuck picnic in the English countryside. His warm smile and even warmer words as he kisses my hand and makes plans for our future. Then barely two months later, I fuck it all up.

  But that was almost three hundred years ago.

  Nothing like the brief reunion we had when I joined Jacobs’s team twenty years ago. We couldn’t stay away from each other, our bodies colliding as if starved for each other. Will that feeling ever go away?

  And then I fucked that up too.

  Jatel leans in, clutching the chair with white-knuckled fingers, his voice rough with barely controlled fury and something else—something that has my body’s full attention. “I would have gagged you.”

  Wood scrapes against the concrete as the door near the office catches at first and is then forced open.

  Jatel jerks away and rises to his full height, once again a statue with his hands by his sides. No doubt awaiting orders like the good little soldier he is.

  I hide my grimace as Victor Jacobs and Frank Petroni stroll into the room. Johnny follows and takes his spot next to the door.

  Jacobs ignores me as he walks past, and I imagine gouging him with my horns and wiping the floor with him. His precious suit and white beard would look perfect covered in oil. His grandfatherly looks are deceiving. The man is ruthless.

  Petroni is a different story. His beady eyes dart to me almost against his will if his sneer is anything to go by. The man hates me. Almost as much as I hate him.

  His nose is crooked, broken twice now. Both times by my unlikely friends and rebels—fellow dino shifters also tired of Jacobs’s crap. The fucking A-team. Jesus. Was that Austyn’s idea or his boyfriend Tate’s?

  If they knew I was here, would my so-called friends try to rescue me? I’m not exactly their favorite person at the moment. Especially Rad. But those thoughts are fleeting. I don’t need or want their help.

  Jacobs and Petroni confer in a corner of the room. My dino wants out. Wants to fuck something up.

  I’ve been here for two long days, left to stew in a tiny room until my sudden upgrade to a larger, more disgusting room. With a chair. And ropes.

  “Gents, I thought ye wanted to chat. It’s rude to ignore yer guests.” I keep my voice free of emotion and the desire to slice them into shark bait with my sword. The sword I no longer have. Arsewipes. At least I still have my hat.

  “You said I could kill him.” Petroni’s eyes glitter dangerously, flashing his dinosaur. He wants out, and I’m here for it. I’d like nothing better than to use my horns to gut him.

  “That was before you fucked everything up. Now, he’s useful.” Jacobs doesn’t spare him a glance as he studies something on his phone.

  Useful? I don’t hear those words often. Not when describing me. Interesting. “I’m touched, Vic. Petey said you didn’t care about me, but I knew better.”

  Jacobs slides his eyes at me and then over to Jatel. “Why isn’t he gagged?”

  Jatel opens his mouth, maybe to respond, and closes it again. Jacobs is texting someone on his phone and no longer paying attention. And that kind of stings. I mean, he went to the trouble of abducting me. The least he can do is keep me from being bored out of my skull while I devise my escape plan.

  I can’t take them all, but my Pentaceratops can do a lot of damage. Go after Petroni first. Then Johnny. The man bares his teeth, and I can almost see his T. rex wanting to get out. The overhead lights highlight the scars on his face. I chuckle at the memory. Austyn slicing Johnny from his temple to his jaw. That man is as handy with a knife as he is with scissors. He makes stunning clothes for dino shifters, and he can cut the skin deep enough to leave a scar. Not easy to do when shifters heal lightning fast.

  “This is a downgrade from your last place, Vic. All the other evil lairs taken?” I tilt my head. “Or did you just miss New Orleans?” I have my suspicions about why they’re here and not in the mountains of Idaho, but I keep those to myself.

  His glance flickers to me. He’s calm. Too calm. The last time we faced off, he was practically foaming at the mouth. “Will someone please shut him up?”

  Petroni grins maniacally. “My pleasure.”

  “No—don’t kill him. Use a gag,”

  “A ball gag if you have it.” I wink at Petroni.

  His face distorts with fury. “I’m going to cut you into little pieces. Tiny, tiny⁠—”

  “Is that a size joke, Petey? Rude.”

  Huh. I’ve never actually seen anyone’s head explode, but it seems likely given the purple shade of his face. “You⁠—”

  “Stop.” Jacobs’s voice is brisk as he slips his phone into the pocket of his dark suit and pulls on black leather gloves. “It’s time.” He gives everyone in the room, but me, a pointed look. “Our visitors have arrived.”

  2

  JATEL

  “Aye, you’re in trouble now, Jay,” Walter MacKenna says in a singsong voice. His dark hair, usually tied back, curls around his face. His equally dark eyes glitter with mischief. “The cavalry is here.”

  Walter taunting me isn’t new. It’s one of his favorite sports. Right along with sparring and…fucking. But I watched his face when Victor made his announcement, and I’m sure of two things: Walter assumes our visitors are his friends. And he’s not happy about it.

  I just can’t figure out why.

  Not that it matters. This mission is too important. The future of all dinosaur shifters is at stake.

  My daughter’s life is at stake.

  I need to focus on that, and not on my ex.

  Victor and Petroni converse in low whispers while Johnny grins like an idiot. The man is an imbecile.

  I can feel Walter’s dark eyes on me as if I’m the one in the wrong. Six months ago, in Idaho, he made the wrong choice. He betrayed me, and it wasn’t even the first time. Hell, he betrayed us all. And for what? Taking the moral high ground? Since when does Walter care about morals? Or anyone but himself?

  Once a pirate, always a pirate.

  Still, I thought I’d enjoy this more. Seeing Walter squirm. But I don’t particularly like the look in Petroni’s eyes. I’m fine with Walter getting hurt. I just want to be the one to do it. I’ve earned that right.

  The door opens and one of the younger guards escorts our visitors into the room. Walter’s cavalry consists of three men. Where are the rest?

  Austyn Burkes strides in with his head held high. There’s no hesitation or signs of fear. He’s a good man. Losing him to Walter’s little rebellion was a blow. Sure, Victor found another tailor—all the way on the East Coast—but he’s not as good. Austyn’s clothes almost breathe with you. But no one asked my opinion, and I’m sure Victor has his reasons.

  Tate Goodman follows close behind Austyn. He’s not as confident as his mate, but he’s more sure now than he was when I saw him last. He’s big—as tall as me—and taller than Austyn by a foot. He’s also extremely clumsy. Walter’s stories used to crack us up—but that was before. No one’s laughing now. Tate is a Brachiosaurus, one of the largest dinosaurs to have ever roamed the Earth.

  Tate tries to move in front of Austyn, but he gets a hand on the arm and a fond head shake for his trouble.

  The other man with them is a man no one knows—not even the man himself. They call him Killian because he doesn’t know his real name. I’ve heard all the stories. And he was there six months ago when all hell broke loose. He’s tall and muscled with brown hair, a classic face, and a Grecian nose. Seeing him this close and not in the middle of a battle has me wondering if we’ve met before. I mean, before the altercation at Mr. Jacobs’s home in Idaho. His face looks familiar.

  I’d never met a Llukalkan shifter before. His dinosaur name means the one who strikes fear. Not sure how many know that, but I read as much as I can. Knowledge is power. Or at least a way to stay alive. Walter should try it sometime since he’s always putting himself in danger. But he’s more the act first, think later type.

  No wonder we didn’t work out.

  The small convoy comes to a stop in front of Victor.

  “We’re here,” Austyn says briskly. “And since you tried to kill us the last time we met, we brought backup.”

  “You were always resourceful, Mr. Burkes. I think we can conclude our business without bloodshed.”

  Walter snorts, but everyone ignores him. I’m not sure how I feel about these men risking their lives to save Walter. He certainly wouldn’t return the favor.

  But hadn’t he done just that?

  Shaking off thoughts of Walter, I focus on my mission and getting through this with minimal bloodshed.

  Johnny lets out a low growl. His eyes are on Austyn, and he tightens his hold on his gun. My stomach clenches in response. Did he get specific instructions from Mr. Jacobs, or is he thinking about going rogue? He hates Austyn enough to do it.

  “What do you want from us?” Austyn asks, his voice tight.

  “A trade. I mentioned that in my message to your assistant. Where is he, by the way?”

  Rad. That’s who’s missing. The sparkly ninja. That’s what Walter likes to call him.

  “Hold on,” Austyn says. “You sent those messages?”

  Tate seems to get bigger, and I hope he doesn’t try to shift. The building wouldn’t hold him. “I thought Walter sent them.”

  Mr. Jacobs shrugs. “Walter’s phone did, but not Walter. He’s a little tied up.”

  “Not funny,” Walter mutters, and I shake my head. He’s going to get shot if he keeps mouthing off.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Killian glances around as if he’s taking stock of everyone and everything in the room.

  Austyn’s eyes widen. “Your…spidey sense?”

  Killian smiles briefly—and fondly—at Austyn. Which doesn’t make sense. “Yes,” he says, and that one word has layers…and then it clicks. Beau. Killian is talking to Beau Tremere, his boyfriend. They’re wired. All of them? Or just Killian?

  Should I tell anyone? But what if I’m wrong?

  “So you mentioned a trade,” Austyn says. “You give us Walter and we give you⁠—”

  “You can’t trade Tate for me. That’s just—no,” Walter says loudly. “And I can’t believe I’m even saying that.”

  Judging by the looks of surprise, neither can anyone else. Least of all me. Months ago, when Victor tried to recruit Tate, it turned into a big mess. Walter blew up our ammunition shed and helped Austyn and Tate escape. But he helped them back then because it benefited him. Why would he sacrifice himself for them now? My heart does this weird thing that I haven’t felt in a while. The last time was when Walter and I⁠—

  “Explain what you mean by trade,” Austyn says. “The last time we met, you held us at gunpoint. Threatened to slit my throat if I remember correctly.”

  Petroni cracks his knuckles with a grin. The man is a loose cannon.

  Victor waves his hand. “That was all a misunderstanding, Austyn. We aren’t interested in abducting anyone⁠—”

  “Hello? Currently tied to a chair over here.”

  His eyes darken. “You weren’t abducted, Walter. You strolled into my home⁠—”

  “Your lair.”

  “And made a nuisance of yourself.”

  Austyn sighs. “That does sound like Walter.”

  “Rude. Did I tie me own hands?”

  I snort. No matter what he says, Walter brought this on himself. No one steals from Victor and expects to get away with it.

  “If he wasn’t abducted, why is he tied to a chair?” Killian asks, studying Walter.

  “As I said, he made a nuisance of himself.”

  Walter shrugs. “What’s a few broken heirlooms between friends, eh?”

  Mr. Jacobs’s expression doesn’t change, but his face twitches like he has a tic. “Enough. Are you willing to deal or not?”

  “Untie Walter first,” Tate says, folding his arms over his big chest. “Then we can talk.”

  “No way.” Petroni glares at them, and Mr. Jacobs puts a hand on his arm.

  “It’s fine.” He nods to me. “Untie our guest, Jatel.”

  Some of my tension eases. Not that I care if Walter goes free, but I want to end this with no one getting hurt.

  My fingers feel big and clumsy as I try to undo the knots. “Out of practice, Jay?” Walter asks in a low voice.

  “Stop talking.” I bite out the words, trying to keep the heat from rising in my face.

  “My offer stands. Anytime ye want to play with ropes, I’m your guy.”

  The ropes come loose around his arms, and I move behind him to untie the ropes around his chest. At least this way I can’t see him. But I can still hear his low chuckle at my expense. The room is quiet. Is everyone waiting on me? God, I hate this.

  “What’s taking so long?” Victor asks, and the irritation is clear in his voice. Great.

  “Almost done.” I try to ignore Walter as I move around and drop down to untie his legs.

  “While yer down there…”

  “Shut. Up.” My gaze snaps to his. And there’s something other than his usual sass swirling in the dark depths. I must be imagining it. Walter avoids strong emotions like they’re the black plague. My eyes snag on the outline of his swelling cock.

  Is he thinking about the time we played reverse pirate, where the lord did all the capturing? Walter tied up and spread out as I rode his cock. Arousal zings through my body and my face ignites with heat. Now is not the time.

  My fingers feel like fat sausages, unable to do the bare minimum. I stretch them out, trying to get my blood to flow to them and not to other places.

  “Do you want me to untie him?” Johnny asks, sounding closer, his voice way too eager.

  “Fuck off.” Now the room is even quieter. Keeping my head down, I try to focus on my task. I rarely cuss or say anything mean. But the thought of Johnny touching Walter again has my Spinosaurus wanting to shred him. I take a deep breath, ignoring everyone, including Walter, as I work on the last knot.

  It isn’t easy, since Walter is taking advantage of his free hands to touch me. My jaw, my cheek, my lips. I can’t yell at him without drawing attention to us. More attention. Even worse are the memories assaulting me. Walter’s hands on my body. His scent. His taste. His hands gripping my hair as I swallow him down.

  “Stop touching me,” I hiss. Walter removes his hands with a low chuckle. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Bastard.

  It’s humiliating. I take a deep breath and untie the last knot.

  The room is still quiet as I stand and move as far away from Walter as possible. I nod at Victor, but he narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to figure me out.

  “Ah, much better.” Walter jumps out of the chair. “Thank you, lads, for the hospitality, but I must be off.” He grabs his pirate hat from under the workbench and dusts it off. It’s black with a crumpled red feather.

  “Stay,” Victor says, and it’s not a request. “We still need to conclude our business. Mr. Burkes, here’s your pirate. Let’s trade.”

  Austyn straightens, opening his stance, as he leans back on his right foot. “You can’t have Tate.”

  “Tate?” Mr. Jacobs chuckles and shakes his head. “We don’t want Tate.”

  Austyn glances around. “Then who…?”

  Killian growls before Victor even says the name.

  “Dr. Beau Tremere.”

  3

  RAD

  Walter’s announcement six months ago about a war coming had been anticlimactic when nothing, absolutely nothing, happened.

  Now things are happening. Tate, Austyn, and I drove twenty-eight hours from California because the dumbass pirate managed to get himself captured. Beau and Killian have been traveling since our run-in with Victor Jacobs, so they got here before us. And after the last time, we needed the backup.

  I’m currently stuck on comms with Beau in this decked-out RV because I’m the only logical choice. Tate isn’t into computers, and the one time Austyn let him touch something, he deleted a week’s worth of work. Just, no. Obviously, Beau knows his stuff since he rigged the RV with this amazing setup—and also somehow made it homey with plants everywhere, including a honeysuckle vine winding through a makeshift trellis. But Killian? He still doesn’t remember his past, let alone how to work anything electronic. Phones confuse the poor guy. He’s a modern-day Tarzan.

  So yeah. Being the IT person sucks. I mean, I love technology and computers. It’s not hard to figure out. None of this beg-you-to-take-a-chance-and-then-ghost-you fuckery. And I’m good at it. But I hate being left behind. Again.

 

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