Rexes & Robbers

by Kendra Moreno

  “I think it’s because this town is special,” Ro whispered, eyeing the dinosaurs walking freely about. No doubt there were more mingling in their human forms, but there were many in their scales, traveling alongside humans, carting things to and fro, as much a part of the bustling town as any human. Ro had never seen such a thing, never seen so many dinosaurs in their scales and humans perfectly happy to walk beside them.

  “It’s somethin’.” Clem finally took her eyes off a Triceratops with children riding on its back. “You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” Ro took a deep breath and checked her revolver at her side. It wasn’t her only weapon, her pistol was tucked safely away as well, but it was her main protection. “Before we get a room, let’s find the saloon.”

  The first step into town drew almost every eye in the vicinity. Newcomers were always looked at suspiciously when they arrived, no matter what town it was. A few of the dinos sniffed at Clem in acknowledgement before dismissing her as a threat. She may not be one of the biggest reptiles, but she was certainly a contender in any fight. They must have dismissed her on her species alone, that or because she was female. Ro hoped it wasn’t the second option. She would hate to dirty her opinion of Embertown so quickly.

  The saloon was in the center of town, past the jail and the general store. There were a few shops even tailored to those with scales. A man stood on the side offering to sell extra long brushes to wash the taller dinos. It really was an integrated town, scales and flesh living in harmony.

  A woman dressed in a corset and bustled skirt stood at the front of the saloon, the maroon fabric bringing out the rouge on her cheeks and the bright blue of her eyes. Her skin was alabaster white, her eye shadow heavy.

  “You ladies looking for a good time?” she asked, her eyes skipping over Ro and settling on Clem.

  Ro grinned and looked over at her partner. “Not quite yet, but I have no doubt Clem here will come looking for you later.”

  Clem didn’t deny it and Ro didn’t expect her to. The gorgeous woman with the hourglass figure was exactly her friend’s type, her bedroom eyes already sizing up the working girl. Clem would certainly be looking for her later.

  “The name’s Dolly,” the woman purred, reaching out and trailing a fingernail along Clem’s shoulder. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Ro gently pressed against Clem’s back, nudging her to go inside before she threw all caution to the wind and disappeared with the woman before their work was done for the night.

  “I’m going,” Clem grumbled. “No fun.”

  “You can have lots of fun later, lover girl. We’ve got work to do.”

  They pushed the saloon doors open and stepped inside, leaving Dolly behind to bat her eyes at other patrons. The room fell silent the moment they entered, every eye focusing on the newcomers. Men outnumbered the working girls threaded throughout the room; a few were on laps and some surrounded by men who had been flirting and whistling a few moments before. There were no empty tables, but there were two chairs side by side at the bar. Ro and Clem headed that way automatically, not drawing any extra attention that they didn’t need. The goal was to sit at the bar and listen. Nothing more, nothing less. They wanted to learn about two things—the bank and the law. The bank was large, that much they knew, but they needed to know the layout, information about the owner, any workers, and any patterns. And the law was self-explanatory. They needed to know all about the sheriff, if he was a drunk or a hardass, if he took his job seriously or resented it. Sheriffs tended to be weathered men long overdue for their grave. They could only be so lucky for Embertown to be overseen by the normal type.

  “What’ll ya have?” the bartender drawled, his accent so thick it was almost impossible to understand. Luckily, there weren’t many things a bartender needed to say.

  “Two whiskeys,” Clem answered. She cocked her brow at Ro, a tiny smile on her face. “Make it three and send one out to Dolly, would ya?”

  The bartender grumbled something under his breath, but he went to work pouring whisky into three cloudy glasses, which Ro pretended was the color of the glass rather than being so dirty they changed color. The moment he set the glass down in front of them, Ro tossed it back quickly rather than savoring it, gesturing toward the glass for another. The bartender didn’t hesitate before he poured another fifth and walked away, sending the third glass with another working girl to Dolly.

  “Real talker, that one,” Clem commented, watching the bartender. “He’ll be useless.”

  Ro nodded her head in agreement, looking from the corner of her eyes at the others in the saloon. The chatter had started up again, deciding the two new women were nothing more than two broads too big for their britches. That would be their mistake.

  Ro and Clem sat there for no more than what had to have been five minutes before a few of the men stood and made their way toward them.

  “Here we go,” Clem grumbled, tossing her whisky back at the same time Ro did. If it got ugly, there was no use wasting good liquor in a fight.

  “What’s two women coming in here dressed like they something for?” one of the men said, as he took up residence behind Clem. His stance was one meant to block her in, make her feel uncomfortable. Too bad for him that Clem was far stronger and tougher than any of the men in here. From what Ro could tell, most of the men were human, which meant they had the upper hand.

  “I think they’re trying to be equals or something.” Number two’s accent was so heavy it was like listening to gravel churn when he talked.

  “We don’t want no trouble, fellas.” Ro raised her brow at the man who took up a similar position behind her, trying to block her in as if she was some frightened child. “Don’t go makin’ it.”

  “Did you hear that, Rob? They don’ want no trouble.”

  They both laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world.

  “I heard her, Frank.” The man behind Ro moved a little closer, and she felt the scowl pull across her face. “Thing is, I think this one is pretty. How much for a night with that smart mouth?”

  “So, two women walk in alone and your first thought is to proposition them like prostitutes?” Clem inquired, turning in her seat, bringing her closer to the man behind her. He didn’t take a step back when she looked at him in challenge. “Didn’t your mama teach you any manners? You’re supposed to buy a lady a drink first.”

  Ro watched Clem’s fist tighten around the glass, and she shook her head the slightest bit, not enough to draw attention but just enough for Clem to notice. Her fingers didn’t loosen around the glass, but she didn’t lift it, not yet.

  “How much?” he asked again.

  Ro grinned and turned fully in her seat until she was right up in the man’s personal space. He smelled like stale piss and tobacco, like he hadn’t bathed in a few days. Ro fought to keep her nose from wrinkling as she met his gaze head-on, her boldness already causing him unease. Her knee barely touched his leg, and she mentally reminded herself to wash the appendage later to remove the stink. “How much you got?” she queried, her fingers curling around the revolver at her hip. The man didn’t even look down, his eyes focused on her chest.

  “For you, I got a half-dollar. Frank there might have a Double Eagle somewhere.”

  Ro perked up at the mention of a Double Eagle. They were hard coins to come by, worth plenty enough to pay for what they needed.

  “What do you say?” Frank questioned, eyeing Clem like a piece of meat. She lifted the whisky glass in her hand and studied it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

  Ro didn’t waste any more time. She pulled the revolver from her hip and had the barrel pressed against Rob’s genitals before he knew what happened. Frank didn’t even flinch, not quite knowing why his buddy was as tense as a board. “I have a better deal for you.” Ro kept her voice low, making sure not to attract the attention of the other patrons. The bartender watched as he wiped a glass dry, but didn’t step in, not yet. At the first sign of tro
uble, he’d no doubt reach for the shotgun Ro knew he kept hidden under the bar. “You give us that Double Eagle, and I’ll let you leave with your cock still attached.”

  Clem laughed at Ro’s words, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

  “You fuckin’ bitch,” Rob snarled, and Frank finally caught on to what was happening. He reached for his gun, but he was a slow draw. Clem slammed the whisky glass against his head, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Ro sighed.

  “Sorry. It was quicker than kicking him in the balls.”

  The moment the glass shattered, all hell broke loose in the saloon. The thing about a bunch of testosterone fueled men in the same room with strong liquor, was at the first sign of a fight, the fists started flying. The working girls screamed and moved out of the way as tables were overturned and glass flew.

  “They never change, do they?” Clem huffed, ducking as a chair flew over her head. “I thought Embertown was supposed to be different?”

  Ro shoved Rob into the fray where he immediately got hit in the head by someone’s gun hilt and dropped. She watched as the bartender pulled his shotgun out and leveled it on the fighters. “You got three seconds to cut it out or I’ll blow yer heads off!”

  Ro raised her brows at the man who suddenly spoke far more clearly than he had before. He never got to fire the shot though. The saloon doors flew open and a new man walked inside. He pulled a large revolver from the holster at his hip and fired a single shot into the wood of the ceiling, letting in a small beam of light. Ro watched everyone duck at the unexpected sound, the saloon growing suddenly quiet.

  “What in the devil is going on in here?” the new man asked, his eyes trailing around the room and landing on Ro where she leaned her elbows back on the bar languidly. She propped her boot up on the seat next to her, watching his eyes take in the movement before narrowing. The beam of light hit his chest and a gold flash caught her eye. Sheriff. This was the sheriff.

  “Get them all out of here,” the bartender growled, pointing to the men either knocked out cold, bloody, or bruised.

  “You heard him. Get out.”

  There was a mass scramble as they funneled out of the doors much to the dismay of the working girls. A few of them called for the men to come back later, but none of them turned around.

  The new man walked farther inside, his spurs clicking as Ro got a better look at him.

  Clem whistled under her breath. “Take a gander at that one,” she whispered.

  Ro understood exactly why. The sheriff of Embertown was not a weathered old man like they’d hoped for. No, he was quite young, probably close to Ro’s age or a little older. He had a nice square jawline covered in the best kind of scruff, and his hair curled around his ears. His eyes were bright as he looked first at Clem and then Ro, where his stare caught and held. Ro prayed he didn’t recognize her, that he didn’t know she was a fugitive of the law. Their plans would be ruined if he did, their lives at stake if he tried to take her in.

  The sheriff was wearing clean slacks with only a little dust caked on the bottom as if he’d recently changed into clean ones. A leather vest displayed the gold star of his trade and his hat looked well loved. “You ladies alright?”

  “Never better,” Ro answered automatically, her voice a little huskier than she’d intended. Clem gave her the side-eye but didn’t comment. “You make a habit of breaking up bar fights, sheriff?”

  “I make it a habit to have a whiskey in peace,” he replied, stepping farther into the room. “What brings you two to Embertown? I haven’t seen y’all before.”

  “We’re here to see the sights, sheriff,” Clem responded, grinning. “We heard this place is a bit like a paradise.”

  “It is and it ain’t.” The words were almost a grumble as he took the glass the bartender slid across the bar to him.

  “Why’s that?” Ro asked, moving a little closer.

  He turned and met her gaze, the deep blue of his flashing bright for a moment, so quick Ro almost missed it. She sucked in a breath the same time Clem did. Clem’s fingers clenched on Ro’s back, the urgency in whatever she had to say digging its nails into her skin.

  “I don’t have to just make sure the humans follow the law. I gotta make sure the dinos do, too. It’s a nice town, Mrs.—”

  “It’s Miss,” Ro corrected for some god-awful reason. “You can call me Ro.”

  Those bright eyes sparkled again, sizing her up with interest. He took a swig of the whiskey in his glass.

  “Well, Ro. Welcome to Embertown. Stay out of trouble, would ya? We welcome all here but there’s still outside travelers who don’t follow our way.”

  “I can’t promise that, sheriff. Trouble seems to follow me.” She pointed towards the doors where the goons had been dragged out and left in the dirt to recover.

  His eyes trailed down her form, as if he could see through the dusty clothing to what was underneath. Ro’s body heated under his gaze against her better judgment. Oh no, sleeping with the sheriff was probably the worst idea she’d ever had. Or it could be the best.

  “I bet it does,” the sheriff mumbled so low Ro almost missed it. “If anyone gives you a hard time, tell them Sheriff Bennett said to knock it off.”

  “Much obliged, sheriff.” Ro winked and stood, dragging Clem behind her. “I’ll see you around.” She flipped a few coins on the counter, gesturing toward the Sheriff’s whiskey. “Drink’s on me, for coming to our rescue.”

  “I highly doubt you needed any rescuing, but I appreciate the gesture.”

  It took everything in Ro not to rush out of the saloon, to walk calmly from the bar and out into the sunshine. They didn’t speak until they were at the hotel and in their room before Clem practically burst with her words.

  “Fucking Christ, Ro! The sheriff is a goddamn Rex!”

  Ro’s face was solemn as she took in the small room with two smaller beds. “It’s not a deal breaker.”

  But hell, didn’t their hit just get a whole lot more complicated.

  “Whatever you think. I saw you making googly eyes at the dino. He liked what he saw too. You might have to distract the man.”

  Why did those words excite Ro just a little too much? Trouble really did follow her wherever she went.

  Four

  Boone stared after the two newcomers, watching as they pushed through the saloon doors with false calm. The thing about being a Tyrannosaurus Rex was that his senses were heightened. He could smell the anxiousness of the scaly that had been with Ro, her species one of the smaller predators. He’d known instantly, but he also knew that she hadn’t recognized his species until the end. The problem with being a Rex, everyone automatically got a little weird in his presence. Something about such a large predator just made them uneasy. Boone had dealt with it his entire life, and while it had its benefits—you don’t catch anyone trying to bully a Rex—it also had its downfalls.

  The one with the braided hair and red hat had claimed her name was Ro. Boone wasn’t sure what Ro was short for, but his hide was itching, and if anything told him there was something amiss more, he’d never believe it. His hide had saved itself many times. Ro may be human, and her comrade a smaller predator, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t cause any harm. Hell, his deputy would tell him he was insane. Two women couldn’t make that much trouble, but Boone knew better than to judge based on that alone. He’d met working girls that could beat the daylights out of any man, and he’d met men who were good for nothing besides sitting on a porch and smoking their tobacco. The gender of a person didn’t make or break them, even if the world wanted everyone to believe it did. Boone was certain that woman could hold her own, and she’d probably look just as good while doing it.

  “Can I get you anything else, sheriff?” Riley, the bartender, asked.

  Boone glanced down at the coins Ro had flipped on the counter, gold ones that were hard to come by in the West. Cash trains were robbed far more often than towns, their cargo far easier to pick off than a fo
rtified town. It meant that lots of money never made it to the banks they were intended for. Embertown was different. Virgil, the bank owner, never allowed his trains to travel without guards of the scaly variety. He hadn’t been hit in ages.

  A woman like Ro could have those coins because she came from old money and was running from her family. It wasn’t uncommon. Not all women wanted to be married off like prized cattle. Boone couldn’t blame them for that. Perhaps, even though Ro had looked at him with interest in her eyes, her and the Deinonychus could be partners. Those that liked the same sex were looked down on with scorn much the same way dinosaurs were looked down on outside of Embertown. Boone hoped it wasn’t that. It’d been a while since he had any interest in a woman, and far longer since a woman looked at him the same way, even recognizing him for the predator he was.

  “Can I get a gin?” Boone finally asked Riley. Riley was already pouring the favored drink before he’d finished his sentence, sliding it across the bar.

  “Thanks for breaking up the fight, but you owe me a ceiling patchin’.” Riley pointed to the tiny beam of light coming through where Boone’s bullet hit.

  The sheriff grinned. “It livens up the place a bit, don’t ya think?”

  “Until it’s the rainy season and suddenly there’s a stream coming through my ceiling.”

  “I’ll have old Miller come take a look at it tomorrow.” Boone tossed back the liquor in his glass, savoring the smoothness as it went down his throat. He had a mystery to solve, and maybe a woman to study a little closer.

  The age-old zing went through his body, his skin itching to shift, but Riley would kill him if he did it in the saloon. His scales were too big for buildings, but he needed to do it soon to work off the steam. The new woman had gotten under his scales, and short of chasing after her and kissing her like his Rex demanded, he’d have to play it safe for now.

  Women weren’t always about the chase. Sometimes, they were about the mystery.