Page 242 of Shadowman

“This is all very romantic, but the answer is still no.” The Ivory stands, glaring at us. Trevel opens his mouth to continue arguing, but The Ivory cuts him off with a snarl, “Don’t push me.”

In an effort to diffuse the tension, I take Trevel’s hand. “I’ll be fine, I promise. In and out.”

He doesn’t look sold in the slightest, but he doesn’t have a choice, either.

And just like that, we’re trudging through the mansion, toward the front door. Trevel squeezes my hand until he absolutely has to let go. Giving him one last look, I try to convey everything I’m feeling, but it’s hard when I barely understand it myself.

Despite what The Ivory says, I know there will be no negotiating. I’m not going in there to collect Velle’s list of demands… He’s playing us.

“I’ll be back soon,” I whisper to Trevel.

His Adam’s apple slides in his throat. “I’ll save you some dinner.”

I breathe out a small chuckle, and it makes him smile.

Glancing at The Ivory, I turn reticently, following his men outside.

“Oh, and Byron…” His voice gives me pause as I’m walking out the door. “If there’s even a sliver of doubt as to which side you’re on, then I suggest you stay there.”

The journey across the island is quick. It would be quicker, but we have to make a sort of zigzag to get to the spot the Warden’s guys have deemedsafe.

They drive me along the coast in a large black SUV with bulletproof glass windows—a trip in itself since I haven’t even been in a car in years. Then we get out and make the rest of the trek on foot.

I’m no soldier. Sure, I like to fight, but my weapons are my extremities, and more than anything, I like the act of hand-to-hand combat. The premise ofwar, fighting battles on behalf of turf and things like that, has never appealed to me. Neither has the idea of using guns.

But these men are talking to me as if we’re brothers in arms. Assault rifles slung over their shoulders, decked out in camouflage garb, they guide me down a path, from the shore inland, through the trees.

“You’ll want to enter from the South Gate,” one of the guys instructs. “There’s a main entrance about a quarter mile from here. That’ll be your best bet. Avoid where the walls are down. That’s where they have the most eyes and the fewest blind spots. The woods between the tower and the cliffs is literally the Wild West.”

“We’ll cover you to the gate,” another guy says, lifting binoculars. “Stay hidden. Between the trees, along the walls… Anywhere that’s not in plain sight.”

I can’t help gawking at them like they’re mental. Two days ago, this island was quiet. Dangerous, sure, but only forus; the prisoners locked up inside the Pen. Gazing over what it’s become, my jaw strains, fists squeezing to control the adrenaline in my veins.

This feels like we’re inApocalypse Now.

It’sinsane. Velle used to threaten to shoot us damn near every day. But the thought of himactuallyshooting me now seems so bizarre.

I guess it’s not, though.

History aside, thisisdangerous. If Velle has the armory, that means the gunshots we’ve been hearing haven’t just been from The Ivory’s men alone. There’sactuallya war going on, and I’m stepping into hostile territory.

But… they shouldn’t be hostile towards me. We’re friends.

I’m one of them. Right…?

I stay close to the guys as they jog between the trees, aiming their scopes all over the place before calling out, “Clear.”

Part of me feels like they’re being extra as fuck. I almost chuckle.

But then a loud pop has me jumping out of my skin.

“Down!” someone yells.

A bullet zips right past my head, hitting the tree behind me.

Holy shit, what the fuck?!

Everything is moving at hyper speed, yet I feel like I’m underwater. Ducking, I shield myself with a tree while the guys lay down cover fire.