Page 1 of Claimed By the Psychos

Chapter

One

JUNIPER

The salt on the rim tastes like blood.

I run my finger around the crystal edge, watching the red liquid swirl in my glass like a tiny ocean of violence. The bartender keeps shooting me looks, and I guess I can't blame him considering I'm wearing more gemstones than fabric.

My dress clings to me like a second skin, blue as a bruise. The fabric whispers secrets against my thighs every time I shift on the barstool, and the neckline is just one little piece of body tape shy of public indecency.

Down the bar, I spot him in his perfectly tailored suit that cost a small fortune. The black fabric hugs his tall frame like it was born to worship him, and even from here I can smell him. That crisp, clean scent that makes me think of diamonds and winter mornings when the world is so cold it could shatter, tinged with alpha musk. His dark hair is pulled back at the nape of his neck, looking almost blue in the dim lights above the bar.

He's talking to a man whose face I recognize from newspapers. A politician. One with soft hands and hard policies.

"How much for the pretty little thing in blue?"

Pretty little thing.

The words slither through the air and wrap around my throat. Evan used to call me that.

The glass shatters in my hand.

Crystal bites into my palm, a kiss of pain that brings me back to now, to here, to this bar that smells like expensive cologne and desperation. Blood wells up, ruby drops mixing with the cocktail as I let the jagged edge fall into the drink. The bartender glares at me, his mouth moving into a thin line that probably means I should apologize.

"Sorry," I giggle, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and dark. I suck the blood from my fingertip, iron and salt dancing on my tongue. "Long nails, ya know?"

Felix beckons me with one long finger, and I slip off the stool like water finding its level. My heels click against the marble floor, tap tap tap, like a countdown to something beautiful and terrible. I make a game out of trying to follow the gold veins in the marble and probably look tipsy doing it.

Felix's hand finds the small of my back as I approach, warm through the thin fabric. "Juniper," he says, and his voice is silk over steel. "I'd like you to meet my new friend."

I have to stifle a nervous giggle that the man thankfully seems to find charming. The idea of Felix having friends is too funny. He has clients and he has me. There's no room for anything else between us.

The politician extends his hand, and I take it even though his palm is damp and his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"James," he lies, because of course he does. Men like him always lie about their names, as if changing the label changes what's inside the box.

James and George and Paul and Curtis and Dan, and don't even get me started on the Johns. A surprising number of Johns in this line of work, really. Guess that figures.

I know who he really is. Senator Owen Fairview, the man who recently tried to strip omegas of their right to hold office. The man whose former staffer still flinches when she hears his name. The whispers follow him like loyal dogs, and now he wants to add me to his collection of pretty little broken things.

"Pleasure," I purr, letting my voice go soft and sweet. Men like him expect soft and sweet. They never see the thorns until they're already bleeding.

Felix's fingers press against my spine—one tap, two taps.Be good.As if I need the reminder. As if I don't know the game by now.

Myfavoritegame.

"Shall we?" The senator's eyes are already undressing me, peeling away the blue silk to get to the flesh beneath. "I have a suite upstairs."

We move toward the elevator, Felix's hand never leaving my back. The senator tries to crowd me against the wall as soon as the doors close, his breath hot and bourbon-sweet against my neck.

"Not until we get to the room." Felix steps between us, smooth as smoke, and his smile is all teeth. "It's policy."

The senator's face darkens. Men like him aren't used to hearing no, aren't used to barriers between them and what they want. "I'm paying enough to skip the policies."

"The policies exist for everyone's protection." Felix's voice doesn't change, but something in his stance does. Something that makes even an alpha like the senator take a small step back. Felix looks pointedly at the small light in the upper corner of the elevator. "Never know who's watching. I'm sure you understand."

The elevator climbs higher, and I count the floors in heartbeats. Seven, eight, nine. The senator grumbles under his breath, but he keeps his distance. Felix has that effect on people.There's just something about him that screamspredator.Must run in his family.