Page 72 of Claimed By the Psychos

"Me!" I bounce forward before Felix can protest. "Make it tight. I want the full hostage experience."

Carlisle's grin turns predatory as he moves behind me. His fingers brush my hair aside, unnecessarily gentle, and I feel the silk slide across my eyes. The world goes dark, but not scary dark. More like expensive hotel blackout curtains dark.

"How's that?" His breath ghosts across my ear, and I suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with fear.

"Perfect. Very kidnappy. Ten out of ten, would be abducted again."

Someone—Archer from the sunshine scent—takes my elbow to guide me. "Steps coming up."

"If I trip and die, I'm haunting all of you," I announce cheerfully. "I'll move your shit around and make weird noises at three AM."

"You already make weird noises at three AM," Felix points out from somewhere behind me.

"Those are the shadows, not me."

The plane interior smells like leather and money and that particular alpha cocktail that's becoming dangerously familiar. Someone guides me to a seat, and I hear Felix settling beside me.

"Blindfolds stay on until we're at cruising altitude," Bane's voice rumbles from somewhere up front.

"What if I peek?" I ask, already tempted.

"Then Carlisle gets to throw you out of the plane," Bane responds without missing a beat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

The engines roar to life, and we're moving, taxiing down the runway with the kind of smooth acceleration that suggests Archer actually knows what he's doing up there. The takeoff presses me back into my seat, and I can't help the little whoop of excitement that escapes.

I cling to Felix's arm, leaning in as I listen to the alphas discussing their boring paramilitary shit in the background. "Isn't this fun?"

"You've always had a funny definition of the word," he says in his usual bone dry tone.

"You're just jealous of my infectious optimism," I say, groping his face until I find his mouth and push one corner upward with my finger. "See? Infectious."

"I'm going to let them tranquilize you."

I snicker, nuzzling into his side. Aside from the fact that we're climbing thousands of feet into the air and our lives are in the hands of a pilot who might not even be licensed for all I know, it's kind of relaxing.

"You can remove the blindfolds now," Archer calls back once we finally level out.

I yank mine off immediately, blinking in the sudden light. The plane's interior is exactly as bougie as I expected—cream leather, polished wood, and probably a fully stocked bar somewhere.

"I'm going to explore," I announce, already unbuckling.

"Juniper—" Felix starts, but I'm already moving toward the cockpit.

"Can I look around?" I ask Archer, peeking in past the partition, my hair brushing his shoulder where he sits looking very official and piloty. Archer glances back with those warm brown eyes that still carry too much hope for someone in his line of work.

"Sure, just don't touch?—"

I'm already sliding into his lap before he can finish, settling myself sideways so I can see all the instruments. "What's this button do?" I ask, pointing at a big red one.

His entire body goes rigid. "That's—that's the autopilot indicator."

"And this?" I point to another dial, very aware that my ass is pressed against what's definitely not a joystick in his pants.

"Altitude gauge." His voice cracks slightly.

"And this?" I lean forward, deliberately pressing closer.