“I had a fucking nightmare!” Beau’s yell jerks me out of my memory, and I sigh at the loss. It was a mighty good memory. And now he’s back on his feet. “That’s the only reason I was awake. Looking for my dad—you know what? It doesn’t matter. Why are you here?”

  Dr. Tremere and Jacobs share a glance. “I wanted to see you. But yes, there are other things going on.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s late, Beau,” he says, pulling out a gold pocket watch. “Why don’t we⁠—”

  Beau gasps and grabs his hand. “Where did you get that?”

  “The watch? It’s mine⁠—”

  “You left it!” He’s practically vibrating with anger. I’ve never seen Beau this upset. Austyn? Occasionally. Rad? Definitely. “It was the only thing I had left of you—until some asshole took it from me.” His eyes widen. “And now you have it.” His glare shifts from his dad to Jacobs. “Have you been working with the army this entire time?”

  Killian growls, moving in front of his boyfriend.

  “Oh my God.” Beau’s eyes are huge as he looks from Killian to his dad and then to Jacobs. “This is a trap. It’s all a fucking trap.”

  “No, Beau, hold on. I can explain.” Dr. Tremere moves as if to touch Beau, but Killian growls again, and he drops his hands. He turns to Jacobs—and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look on Jacobs’s face. Like a trapped animal. “Victor, this is all your fault. Do something.”

  Jacobs regains his composure and nods. “Yes. Fine. But I need everyone except Beau and his father to clear the room⁠—”

  “Absolutely not,” Killian says, surprising no one.

  “Yeah, it’s a no for me too,” I say, winking at my old boss. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

  As Jacobs gives me the evil eye—touchy—Jatel grabs my arm and pulls me to safety. Heh. I can see Jacobs gearing up to have another go when the door to the library bursts open. What is it with all the dramatic entrances?

  Our new arrival is a man with long blond hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing camo that can’t be regulation. He saunters in like he’s taking his place on stage.

  “Hey, dolls. How’s things in dino land?”

  Jatel smacks my shoulder, and I realize I’m the one making the growling sound. But fuck, I really hate this guy.

  “You were supposed to wait,” Jacobs snaps.

  “Waiting is not my style. You should know by now. And dino daddy clued the kid in, so there’s really no point.”

  “Who is this guy?” Austyn asks.

  “It’s not—” Jacobs begins, but he gets cut off by the man himself.

  “Captain James Sallee. S-A-L-L-E-E.” He bows. Actually fucking bows. “I’m the head of Operation Keeping Dinosaurs In Check. A covert—mostly unsanctioned—military operation designed to study dinosaur shifters.”

  Austyn laughs. “Operation Keeping DIC? Is this a joke?” He scans the room. Tate is the only one who looks confused. Even Dr. Tremere doesn’t react to this announcement. That answers that question. Everyone else has already had the pleasure of meeting this fucker.

  “Now that everyone is informed, whether they needed to be or not, go ahead and explain your involvement in all this, Captain Sallee.” Jacobs returns to his chair and his pipe. “But please do it quickly.”

  Sallee toys with a thin braid in the front of his hair. “Quick isn’t my style either, sweetie.” And then he winks. If I had my cutlass, his braid would be gone along with his head. Sallee swivels toward us with a toothy grin. “Hey, peeps. Good to see you all again. Especially you, A9. You’re looking very…sturdy.” He bites his lip. “Did you miss me?”

  Beau makes a sound low in his throat, but Sallee just laughs and pats Killian’s bicep. Jacobs’s frustrated “Sallee” goes unnoticed. He scrutinizes the rest of the room, and his eyes land on Jatel. Oh, hell no.

  Jatel freezes, and it’d be funny any other time, with anyone other than Sallee. But I’m tired and cranky and feeling a wee bit possessive.

  “Hello, there, handsome. Where did you come from?”

  “The Late Cretaceous period,” I say just to be a smartass. Or maybe to remind Jatel I’m still in the room.

  “Oh! My favorite.”

  He circles like a shark, and Jatel throws me a helpless look. And normally, I’d laugh my arse off, but my heart has other mutinous ideas.

  “I like my guys big, but you’re…chef’s kiss.” Sallee actually kisses his fingertips. Twinky poser.

  Jacobs sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sallee,” he says in his I’m-fucking-done-with-your-shit voice. He uses that tone with me a lot.

  “Sorry, babe.” He flips his hair or tries to since it’s up in a bun. But he does the motion of flipping his hair. “Anyway, y’all, the ‘scoop’ is”—he uses air quotes for some reason—“I’m a spy, a plant, a double agent. A sexier and much gayer James Bond.”

  I can’t listen to any more of this crap. I stomp over to Sallee before he’s even finished talking. Jatel tries to grab my arm, but I shake him off and get in Sallee’s face. Or as close to it as I can get. “No fucking way. I don’t believe it.”

  “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite pirate.” He smiles, and I wonder how many of his pretty teeth I can knock out. “You doubt me, Walter?”

  “Why would you help us?”

  “Obviously, as a dino shifter⁠—”

  I scoff. Loudly. “Prove it.” I jab his chest with my finger. “You’ve always had a reason why you can’t shift. I thought you were just scared, but now…I call bullshit.”

  Sallee rolls his eyes. “So untrusting. What happened when you used your dog whistle?” The whistle in question is a weapon that sends out a signal at a frequency that knocks humans unconscious. It worked great against the army. Most of the army. “It had no effect on me.”

  “Nothing happened to Beau, and he’s not a dino shifter,” Killian says. He really doesn’t like Sallee.

  “Are ye not willing to prove it? Shift right now⁠—”

  “Stop, Walter.” Mr. Jacobs stands, clutching his pipe. “This is a waste of time. Is there a reason you’re here, Sallee?”

  Sallee doesn’t take his eyes off me. Does he want to continue this? Bring it. He flexes his hands and stretches his neck from side to side. His smile seems…amused as he turns to Jacobs. “I was invited.” His eyes dart to Dr. Tremere.

  Jacobs flinches. “This is premature. Unnecessary. I have everything under control.”

  Jatel sucks in a breath and then coughs as if he’s trying to hide his reaction.

  Is Dr. Tremere the one in charge? Or someone else? The thought sours in my gut.

  Sallee claps his hands and side steps over to Beau. “Wonderful news. So our cute little doc has agreed to join us?”

  “No,” Killian says before Beau can answer.

  “Down, boy.” Sallee smirks. “I mean, this whole touch-him-and-die thing you have going on is super hot.” He fans his face. “But I need an answer from the doc.” Sallee pats Beau on the cheek, and Beau smacks his arm away.

  “No. Is that clear enough for you?”

  Dr. Tremere steps between them. He’s facing Sallee, so I can’t see his expression, but Sallee immediately backs away, holding up his hands. The room is quiet as everyone digests this little tidbit. Jacobs puffs on his pipe like he needs it to breathe.

  “I asked Sallee to join us—and I didn’t intend for it to be all of us—but here we are.” I swear Jacobs’s eyes are on me when he says that. Does no one think I’m useful? “There are recent developments we need to discuss. But, Beau, we do need your assistance. Your expertise.”

  “You’re the renowned paleontologist, Dad. You figure it out.”

  Beau sounds a little bitter. But I guessed I’d be bitter too if I’d been discredited by a bunch of asshats who now might need my help. Which gets me thinking. Did Jacobs help discredit Beau? I thought it was Sallee and his bunch. But if they’re all working together…

  “You know the legend. And you studied the raptor bone.”

  “And you stole it.”

  “Dammit, Beau,” he says in a strained voice. “I’m not working for the stupid task force. “We’re trying to keep them from gaining control. Captain Sallee is annoying and a pain in the ass⁠—”

  “Hey, now. That’s not nice.”

  “But he’s on our side. That jawbone is important. I’d like to hear your conclusions. We’re so close to figuring this out. And I wanted to see you. Work with you, Beau. It’s been my dream⁠—”

  “Fuck off.” Beau lets out a humorless laugh. “This isn’t about working with me. I actually thought for a second—fuck.” He turns to Killian. “Let’s go, cher. I’m done.”

  “Beau, listen⁠—”

  “Jason, hold on.” Jacobs touches his arm. “Why don’t we let you and Beau talk privately?”

  Jason?

  Beau shakes his head, but Killian pulls him close and cups his face. “You should do this. Get answers about your dad. About the bones. Then decide. Don’t worry. I’ll be with you.” After a few minutes, Beau nods.

  Jacob smiles. “Wonderful.” In a louder voice, he says, “I’d like everyone to make themselves at home. Tomorrow, we’ll reconvene and devise a plan for going forward.” As everyone starts to move, his gaze travels over to me. Then he nods at Petroni, and my stomach starts acting up. Like I just ate something rotten. The smile is still on his face when he turns to Jatel. “Can you show our guests to their rooms?”

  “Of course.” Everyone mills around, and as Jatel makes his way to the door, I slip behind him.

  “Except you, Walter. We’d like to have a word.”

  My gut is never wrong. Jatel turns and catches my worried look. I can’t read his expression. There’s the usual irritation, but also something else. “On second thought,” Jatel says, “I’d like to join you.”

  The milling stops and the room goes quiet. Has Jatel ever questioned his boss? Jacobs clears his throat. “I appreciate your eagerness, Jatel. But that won’t be necessary.”

  Jatel folds his arms over his chest, looking like a damn Greek god holding court at Olympia. “I’m staying.”

  My eyes dart to Jacobs. Confusion flits across his face before he secures it down. “Frank, ask Tess to take care of our guests.”

  What is Jatel doing? He stares straight ahead while the others file out. Austyn gives me a worried look, but I wave him off. I’ve got this. Or I would have it if I knew what it was. Or what Jatel was up to.

  Once everyone is gone and Petroni returns, Jacobs motions for us to sit. “Walter, we need to discuss your…situation.”

  “No need for discussion,” Petroni says with a sneer. “Let’s just kill him.”

  “That’s certainly an option.” Jacobs taps his fingers on the arm of his chair.

  I let out an undignified sound. So far, Jatel isn’t saying anything. Just brooding. Is he helping or part of this? I ignore Petroni and focus on my old boss. “I, for one, would like to hear the other options.”

  His sigh sounds regretful. “I can’t let you go, Walter. You know more than I’m comfortable with.”

  “What about those questions ye had? I can still be useful.”

  “You have a tendency to go rogue. And, as I said, you know too much.”

  “Don’t worry, Vic. I’m good at keeping me mouth shut⁠—”

  Jatel snorts. “Since when?”

  “Whose side are you on?” I glare at him. As Jacobs studies me, Petroni is practically salivating. I try again. “I wouldn’t tell a soul. No one would believe me anyway.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Jatel says.

  Jacobs hesitates and tilts his head from side to side as he seems to weigh his options. Then he shakes his head. “Easier to just kill him. And I did promise Frank.”

  Their matter-of-fact tone as they discuss my demise is pissing me the fuck off. “Hello, I’m still in the room. And I vote for not dying.”

  Jacobs studies me again with a tap, tap, tap of his fingers, and I sort through my options. The door is probably locked, knowing Petroni, and although windows line one wall, I’m not sure they open. Or I could wait and take my chances with Petroni. He’s easily distracted—and probably my best option.

  Jacobs gives a final nod and stands. That’s that. “Sorry, Jatel.” He gives Jatel a sympathetic look. “Time to go, Walter.”

  Sorry, Jatel? Like I’m a toy he doesn’t get to have? I hop to my feet. Not to comply, but so I can run as soon as I get the chance.

  Petroni grins, showing his broken front teeth. Why am I the one he wants to kill? Tate’s the one who broke his face.

  Jatel moves between me and Petroni. “No.”

  “Move.” Petroni’s barely controlled anger at being challenged distorts his face.

  Jatel plants his feet, one slightly behind the other. His fighting stance. “I won’t let you kill Walter.” Are they going to fight over me? How exciting. Where’s me popcorn?

  “Like hell⁠—”

  “Frank.” Jacobs’s sharp tone stops Petroni. The poor man looks confused. He’s not the only one. I’ve been gone for barely six months. When did the power dynamics shift? Jacobs clears his throat. “It’s fine, Jatel. I promise, we don’t need him.” Jacobs sounds like a parent reasoning with a child. And the toy analogy fits a little too well. “Walter has been nothing but a nuisance.”

  Jatel doesn’t back down. The muscle in his jaw ticks again. “The men like him.”

  I scoff. “You’re not going to win that one, my friend.”

  “Shut up, Walter,” he hisses. Dragging his fingers through his long blond hair, he ties it with a leather strap and folds his arms across his massive chest. “Walter is mine.”

  I manage not to scoff at that. Or laugh hysterically. Hey, I’m good with whatever keeps me alive.

  Jacobs’s face clears. “Ah, yes. I’m aware of your history, but that was years ago⁠—”

  “No.” Jatel’s voice is sharp like the edge of my blade. “Walter belongs to me.” I choke on my spit, but he doesn’t even glance my way. “We’re…together.”

  We are? Could’ve fooled me.

  “How is that possible?”

  Jatel’s gaze cuts to me and back. “We’ve kept it a secret.”

  A secret even from me.

  “Keeping secrets, Jatel? That’s concerning.” He glances at me for a second, then back to Jatel, waving his hand. “It doesn’t matter. There are plenty of guys you can sleep with⁠—”

  I growl. Unexpectedly. Shouldn’t I be more upset at the thought of dying than of Jatel sleeping with some other guy?

  “No, you don’t get it,” he says, something primal lacing his words. “I’m not giving him up.”

  I should keep quiet, but that’s not really my style. “Hey, asshats. I’m not a thing.”

  “Quiet,” Jatel says in a commanding voice that, for some reason, I obey.

  Petroni bounces on his feet, his broken teeth on display as he grins. “Sucks for you, Jatel.”

  Jatel seems to grow taller. “If you touch him, Petroni, you will die.” All the air in the room isn’t enough to help me breathe. Would Jatel really fight for me? What if they turned the entire crew against him?

  Can I let that happen?

  “Jay—”

  “I swear to Christ, Walter. Shut up or I will gag you.”

  Holy hell. “Is that a promise?” I ask in a low voice. “I still have the ball gag⁠—”

  He jerks around and grabs my shoulders. “For fuck’s sake, Walter,” he says in a super growly voice that does all kinds of things to my body.

  But I tell my body to stand down. This isn’t playtime. This is buckle-up-and-stay-alive time.

  Jacobs watches us, and it looks like he’s actually considering it. But why? That’s the part I don’t get. He considers his men pawns in his quest for power. He doesn’t actually care about them.

  “Is this true, Walter?” Jacobs asks. “I’m finding it hard to believe you and Jatel are together.”

  “Is it a demonstration ye want? Will a kiss do, or should we fuck right here on your white sofa?” I waggle my eyebrows. My eyes are on Jacobs, not my supposed mate, but I can feel Jatel’s disapproval.

  “Don’t be crass. And how would that prove anything? You’ve slept with half my men.”

  “Rude. It’s not half.” The number is closer to three-fourths. But mentioning that might make things worse. “And there’s been no one since Jay and I got together.” Go big or go home, am I right? “Now that we’re married…”

  Jatel’s mouth drops open. So much for his poker face. “Walter⁠—”

  “No sense in hiding it anymore, babe.”

  A muscle ticks in Jacobs’s jaw and his eyes are sharp points trying to stab me. This bothers him. Even more than the thought of us sleeping together. Is this about power, or is he…jealous? Ew. Gross. I scrub my mind of that thought.

  “You’re married to Walter?” he asks, his voice tight. His next words sound shaky. “Since when?”

  Jatel unclenches his hands. He looks ready to kill but also somehow vulnerable. The urge to stand in front of him and protect him jolts me awake. This isn’t Jatel being nice. He has his own agenda. “A few months after the fight at the compound. We knew we might not make it through this war.”

  He glances at me, and the emotion swirling in his eyes confuses me. It’s not love or affection. It’s more possessive than that. Or is his poker face better than I give him credit for? “So we got…married.” He lifts his chin and stares at Jacobs. “I won’t give him up without a fight.”

  Jacobs frowns and his eyebrows squish together. “What about—” His mouth snaps shut and the mask returns.

  Jatel’s face softens. “Victor, nothing has changed. I believe in our cause. And everything related to it.”

  They’re talking in code. Not wanting me or maybe Petroni to know. It irritates me. Is this any way to treat your husband? We will have words later. But for now, I need out of this room. “Are we agreed then?”

  “Fine.” The response is wrenched from Jacobs. And seeing him so pissed off gives me a certain amount of joy.

 

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