Page 30 of Claimed By the Psychos

Bane's scarred jaw clenches. "Carlisle?—"

"She's our scent match." The words go off like a shotgun blast.

Elias sighs. "Obviously."

Even Bane is uncharacteristically quiet.

"All the more reason not to rush things," I mutter. "She's easily spooked."

"Rush?" Carlisle laughs, the sound sharp as broken glass. "My dear Archer, she tried to kill us. Successfully drugged me, might I add. Nearly took Bane's eye out with a chandelier. I'd say we're well past the 'taking it slow' phase."

Through the window, Juniper suddenly goes rigid. Her head snaps up, turning to scan the room like she heard something. Or someone. Her lips move again, but this time it's clear she's not talking to Felix. She's having a conversation with empty air, her free hand gesturing at someone who isn't there.

"Is she..." Bane trails off, but we all know what he's asking.

"Hallucinating," Elias confirms quietly. "She keeps talking to someone who isn't in the room. Some form of psychosis, possibly schizophrenia given the auditory and visual components."

"That explains the erratic behavior," Bane says, but there's no judgment in his voice. Just assessment. "The mood swings, the sudden shifts in focus."

I watch her argue with the empty corner of the room, her face animated with frustration. Whatever she's somehow seeing through the blindfold, it's pissing her off. She makes a sharp gesture with her hand, like she's trying to shoo something away, then turns back to Felix with a protective snarl.

"We need to be careful," I say, forcing my thoughts back on track. "She's traumatized, dealing with what looks like severe mental illness, and completely dependent on someone who might not ever wake up."

"He'll wake up," Elias says with the confidence of someone who's pulled people back from worse. "The transfusion is working. His vitals are stabilizing. Give him twelve hours, maybe less."

"And then what?" Bane asks the question we're all thinking. "What do we do with them when he wakes up?"

"We can't let them go," Carlisle says immediately. "They know where our base is."

"She's blindfolded," I point out.

"You really think that matters? She's smart. She was counting turns, measuring distances. I watched her doing it." Carlisle's smile sharpens. "Besides, they were hired to kill us. Someone out there wants us dead badly enough to pay for quality. We need to know who."

"We could interrogate them," Bane suggests, but even he doesn't sound convinced. "Get answers."

"Right," I scoff. "Because torturing our scent match sounds like a spectacular fucking plan."

"No one said anything about torture," Bane says, but I can see him struggling with it. The cop in him wants answers, wants to solve the case. But the alpha in him is probably screaming the same thing mine is—protect, provide, claim.

Fucking biology.

"There's another problem," Elias says quietly, and we all turn to look at him. He's staring at Felix's chart again, frowning. "She won't let me examine him properly. Every time I try to do more than basic vital checks, she nearly takes my hand off. I could sedate her, but..."

"But that would destroy any chance of earning her trust," I finish. "She'd never forgive us."

"So we're stuck," Bane summarizes. "Can't let them go, can't interrogate them properly, can't even provide adequate medical care because our patient's guard dog won't let us near him."

Through the monitor, Juniper starts humming. It's a children's song, something about rain and spiders, but the way she sings it makes it sound like a funeral dirge. Her fingers trace patterns on Felix's arm, and I realize she's writing something. Letters maybe, or numbers. Some kind of code only they understand.

"She loves him," I say, not sure why I need to voice it. "Whatever else is going on, she genuinely loves him."

"And he loves her," Elias adds. "The way he protected her, put himself between her and us even while bleeding out..."

"Then why didn't he mark her?" I challenge.

He says nothing. None of us has the answer to that question.

"There's a lot we still don't know. Which makes this whole scent match thing even more complicated," Bane says. "She's not going to abandon him for us. Even if we told her, she'd probably try to gut us with a rusty spoon."